Alone. Betrayed. Why? Why did she do that to me? Was I not good enough? What went wrong? Pain took him once again as memories of their happy times flooded their memories.
"Percy stop tickling me!" she said between fits of giggles. He loved to see her smile, the smile that stole his heart and didn't return it back to him. He loved to see her smile, the smile that reassured him that love wouldn't betray him like it once did. He stopped tickling her, his body directly over hers, their warm breaths tickling each other's throats. He leaned down, and she closed her eyes and landed her lips on his…
Betrayed by all of his family. Betrayed by her. Didn't he try to save them once? Was it not enough that all he wanted was a peaceful life? Betrayed by his father. Betrayed by his love. Betrayed.
He was in the throne room. All of them gathered in one mighty council. "Perseus, what do you have to say for yourself?" "I really didn't do it! Please," he pleaded her, "tell them! Tell them I didn't do it!" She looked at him, tears in her eyes. Her hands gripping the handles of the throne so hard they turned white. "Well, my daughter, was Perseus with you at the time of the incident?" She silently apologized to him. I'm sorry, Percy, I'm really sorry. "No." She said. Silence filled the throne room. He looked at her, grief-stricken, hurt and betrayed. "Why?" He said. Just one one word. No I hate yous or Go to Hades. Just, "Why?" That word itself, coupled with the hurt tone of him pierced her heart. She looked down, her tears flowing freely.
So here he was. In Hades' realm. The Underworld. The Netherland. In a endless pit called Tartarus. He longed for company, even with a monster, but they seemed to fear him, and stayed away from him. Even Kronos, the Titan he had defeated, seemed to avoid him and respect him grudgingly. His skills were strong, and he had bested Ares at the tender age of 12. Didn't get me anywhere but Tartarus, he thought bitterly.
"Punk do you think you can defeat the war god? I know how to use every weapon! I will crush you, little worm!" Ares roared as he swung his gigantic, twin-sided buster blade at him. He rolled out of the way as he felt the air cut pass him. Panting, he tried to stand up. This battle was not looking good. "Stupid moron! I am only toying with you! You, a mere mortal, standing up against me? Think again!" Ares' blade transferred into a humongous war hammer. He raised the war hammer, ready to crush him, when he suddenly thrust his sword into Ares' stomach. "NO! ARGH!" Ares' dropped his war hammer, narrowly missing him. "NOO! YOU MAGGOT! YOU WILL PAY!" Ares' bellowed and then he disappeared in bright flash of light.
And so he trained. And trained. A Son of Poseidon was no good with arrows. But he trained. Every day, he practiced the bow and arrow, continuously shooting targets. His aim started to get better as he managed to shoot more accurately. It must have been 5 years, before his aim was deadly accurate. He could shoot a bull's eye from 250 metres away. He learnt many skills, teaching himself how to use different powers.
He was meditating, his senses blaring at him. He knew that as a Son of Poseidon, he possessed the element of water inside him. But could he…it was worth a shot. He concentrated, as he reached his hand out. He focused on the power within him, and I tried to imagine a deadly force. Hot, powerful and deadly. And suddenly, sparks shot out from his fingers as he passed out.
When he woke up, he recalled what happened. And so he trained the power of fire. Every day he practiced focusing as each try got easier. Eventually, he was able to summon a ball of fire with relative ease. But he wasn't satisfied. No, he wanted to master his powers, so he took another 5 years to practice his fire powers. In the end, he was flaming force. He was able to produce fireballs, hurl them at his opponents at the speed of a flamethrower. He was able to light himself up on fire, and developed immunity against fire. Setting himself up on flames heated the air underneath hime to great extents, and he was able to fly.
He was hurt that his father had betrayed him, but he couldn't hold grudges, since his fatal flaw was personal loyalty. And so he trained his water powers. He learnt to turn himself into water, summon massive amounts of water, and during one time when he visited the River Styx again, he was able to lift the entire river. And so he mastered his water powers, he was able to turn water into ice and use it as weapons.
One day, he was practicing his powers, when he found that he could release energy from inside an object. He was excited, as he summoned a huge block of ice to test this newfound power. He concentrated in the middle of the eyes, and when he found the tiny source of energy inside it, he released it. The entire block of ice, exploded, pelting him with hail. He realized that the power was too dangerous, the ability to make objects explode, and so he silently swore to himself never to use it again.
Of course, he trained his swordsmanship. He tried out different styles, and different moves where he perfected his favourite attack, the Nexus. He would raise his sword into the air, where he would produce a massive storm. As the rain pelted down, he would turn them into ice shards, deadly and sharp. But he put in a twist, as he produced huge balls of fire and rained them down with ice shards, at the same time with lightning pelting down. With this attack he was near invincible, and if that ever failed, he would gather the lightning, ice and fire into a gigantic ball of power and fire it at the opponent. And so was the creation of his favourite attack, the Nexus.
There was rumble, as the pits of Tartarus shook with a gigantic force. He came back into reality, as he realized that the exits of Tartarus were crumbling. He quickly thought up a plan, as this would be one of his only chances to escape this lonely place. He charged out of the exits, turning himself into water vapour and disappeared into the moisture.
He reformed himself only when he had reached civilization. He took in all that was around him. The nature, the dirt under his feet. Then he realized that he had nothing to do. He wanted to get revenge on her, she who had betrayed him, but he could not bring himself to do it. It was his fatal flaw after all. Then he realized what he really wanted to do. He decided that he was going to protect her from all the dangers, just because he loved her, but he would not show himself to her. A good plan, he thought. And so he bought a new navy blue shirt (he had always liked blue), and a pair of black jeans with some mortal cash he had stolen. He checked that his sword, Anaklusmos, which he had earned after he had bested Heracles, was in its pen mode and put it in his pocket. It had been 10 years since he was locked up in Tartarus and he had aged to become a young adult. He checked one last time that he was ready and began looking for her.
He, Perseus Jackson, began looking for Artemis.