The Hunters Of The Sun

Ch 47: The Hunt Begins

HE COULDN'T HELP IT. His chest constricted with pain and he tried not to let the tears fall. But he failed miserably. He walked out of the silver tent, head bent, his eyes watering slightly. Even the death of his friends hadn't caused him to act like this. He was in a state of shock, and he didn't know what to do with himself anymore.

Artemis had broken up with him.

Sighing, he wiped his tears, and looked around for any sign of his angry cousin. She wasn't around. Thank Khaos. He shoved his hands into his pockets and pulled his black hoodie over his head. He sighed again. After everything they had been through. After all the curves and rough patches. She had ended it...just like that. Just because of a stupid heated moment with a redhead he didn't even like. 

Percy laughed bitterly as he walked. Tyche definitely hated him. He had the worst of luck. Nothing ever went as he wanted. His life was never easy. He took a shaky breath, and walked on. He walked out of the cluster of tents. 

He walked out of their camp.

He walked away from his friends.

He walked away from his problems.

Percy got lost in thought as he marched on. He didn't realize how or when he got there but he was in the forest a few minutes later. He sighed, his chest bubbling with nostalgia. He already missed her. And it hadn't even been two hours. He used to come to the forest with her each night. They flew the moon chariot together. They hunted wild creatures alone in the realm of Nyx, and he already knew that that would be no more. No more hunting. No more spending time in each other's tents. No more riding  the moon. No more sneaking off at night and pretending to be on guard duty.

He knew she was somewhere in the forest. He knew she had come to take out her anger in her domain. She had grabbed her bow after all. He was scared for any monster which dared cross her path. 

And then he heard the yell. His head pounded. His vision turned fuzzy. A soft heartbeat.

And then he was running. 

She was in danger. He had to help her. 

He forgot their fight. He forgot their argument. He pushed the break-up into the back of his head. She was a goddess. If she was being attacked she would be able to hold her own.

But he knew her too well by now.

She was rattled, confused, dazed, shocked...just like he was. She wouldn't be able to stay focused long enough to destroy any beings which dared to attack her.

His feet pounded on the ground as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, his heartbeat quickened. He let out little puffs of air as he ran. He heard the distant voices. He kept running. He was so close. Yet so far away. 

Even as he run he knew he would never get there in time. And then the roars stopped. The voices disappeared. The forest was quiet. Everything was still. 

"No..." he murmured under his breath. He rushed through trees, brambles, not pushing them out of his way. He leaped over a log, and he drew the adamantine sword by his side. 

He was going to kill anyone who touched his Moonbeam.

-

THE CLEARING WAS EMPTY when he got there. He spotted the signs of battle.

The golden dust.

The fur of the hellhounds.

And the ichor pooling on the ground.

His eyes flickered to a particular spot in the clearing.

Where a single silver knife lay. Coated with dust. And golden blood. He moved towards it, his vision turning red, and anger filling him. He bent low, and brushed his raven hair out of his eyes, before picking up the knife gingerly.