Chapter Text
Wind whipped through Adonis’s hair as he stood in the surf, the biting cold of the tides up to his knees as he watched, an ever-present frozen observer of the continued battle between the gods that fought on the overcast beach. His dreams of this conflict had been varied but growing more and more frequent since the winter solstice, as the skies had darkened and storms hit the country with a vengeance.
Over the months, Adonis had grown familiar with the way Zeus’s biceps flexed with every punch he threw, having resorted to petty brutality with his lightning bolt stolen. He was almost bored by the way Poseidon snarled like his most monstrous children as he jabbed at his brother with his trident, drawing streams of ichor with each ruthless slash. He’d long since given up trying to be heard over the howling wind, knowing that his charmspeak would be ineffective against these manifestations of wrath and brotherly rivalry. He was merely a wraith, an insignificant speck when up against the gods’ burning auras.
What did mountains care for a dove’s cries?
The brothers remained at a draw for the entirety of the fight, neither giving any leeway. Their essences clashing and grating against each other until the waves rose to form the brutal storm that now lashed around his waist. He shivered uncontrollably as the sea spray lashed at his flushed cheeks.
Adonis had been spectating these divine conflicts all his life, he was used to restless nights and phantom pain, but that didn’t make the discomfort of these dreamscapes any more bearable. The biting chill of the ocean and the relentless howling of the wind were as real to him as they would be in the waking world, his new silk pyjamas were soaked through and already crusting with salt, and his legs had gone numb. Any previous affection he held for his mother’s birthplace had vanished to a distant memory once his toes went numb and his pink lips turned blue.
The storming monotony of the situation was soon remedied as something in the distance caught his eye. A figure further up the beach, advancing toward the quarrelling gods at a sprint. A demigod, he could tell almost instantly. No mortal’s aura could be so strong that Adonis could feel it over the suffocation of two raging Olympians.
Adonis could practically feel the desperation that rolled off the newcomer in waves as he screamed for the gods to stop. His aura was as chaotic and unrelenting as the surf that surrounded Adonis, but it was significantly less harsh, less like the bite of icy knives and more like stepping into the Atlantic on a warm summer day. The stranger stopped at the top of a sand dune, just out of the reach of Poseidon’s trident, but close enough for Adonis to make him out more clearly.
He was young, a boy really, probably the same age as Adonis himself, but at least a few inches taller. He had a complexion that suggested he spent long hours in the sun, a deep bronze that reminded Adonis of Ancient Gladiators of old. His physique was lean, in that way that suggests the possibility of height and strength with age, and his hair was such a dark black that it appeared almost blue in the dim light of the storm. It whipped around a face that seemed frozen in horror.
Adonis had the sudden impression that he wasn’t meant to be here, watching this boy who now stood buffeted by the wind in Finding Nemo pyjamas, yelling at the top of his lungs for them to stop. This boy was not a part of Adonis’s vision. This vision was solely his dream, one which Adonis had intruded into.
He saw the boy’s distress and Adonis wanted to approach, to tell him that there was no point - that the gods would not listen to reason or mercy. Instead, he remained frozen in place, his numb toes fixed unwillingly in the shifting sand when the boy’s gaze suddenly snapped to him.
They were a green unlike anything Adonis had seen, deep and dark and intense, as if mirroring the storm of surf, he stood in now. Seemingly lit within by a faint bioluminescence. They housed the crashing waves and consuming whirlpools of all seven seas, all attempting to burst from their confinement within their mortal vessel.
Adonis felt momentarily pinned by those eyes, like a butterfly that had been laid out to be studied or a deer facing down the barrel of a shotgun. There was something deeply profound about this boy, as if his thread of fate were wrapped up in Adonis’s own. For a moment the Kings of sea and sky felt like an insignificant breeze against the hurricane that was this boy.
Adonis felt as if he’d been struck in the chest as another image was suddenly superimposed behind his eyes. A hulking shadow loomed behind the boy, indistinct in the low light but unmistakable in its intent. An involuntary gasp was ripped from his throat at the sudden creeping feeling of danger, danger, he’s in danger, he needs to wake up, he needs to-
“RUN!!!!”
Percy woke with a sudden gasp, sitting upright in his sand-covered sheets before his eyes could even adjust to the darkness of his room. His pulse pounded in his throat as he panted, the voice from his dream echoing in his skull.
“RUN!!!”
Run from what? Was Mrs Dodds back? That was impossible right? He killed her with Mr Brunner’s pen-sword-thing. She was dead. Turned into a screeching pile of dust.
The voice had sounded young and scared but also strange. Like it held weight. It seemed to echo over the howling winds of the storm like the snipping scissors of those strange old ladies with the massive sock, like he was meant to hear it. Meant to listen.
He had to run. But to where? And from what? He thought back to what his mom had told him earlier, about a camp for ‘special’ kids like him. Maybe that camp wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Where was his mom? She’d fallen asleep beside him.
He scrambled out of bed with a dull thud before opening his door a crack and yelling, “Mom?! Where are you?! We need to go!” he yelled as he started to change, almost tripping as he pulled on a pair of jeans.
His mom’s head popped into his room, her curls tied up into a scarf and usually serene expression showing clear concern and alarm as she took in the way he scrambled the small room about for his things. Thankfully, she seemed to heed his words and went about pulling on her own shoes and grabbing her essentials.
“Percy, sweetie, what’s going on?”
Before Percy could respond there was a sudden banging on the door, almost frantic in its rhythm. Sally went to answer it; her brow creased in apprehension with Percy following closely behind her as he pulled his red jacket already on.
They both gaped when she opened the door to reveal Grover, panting and with dripping curls and wide, slitted eyes. It took Percy a second to take his best friend in, but when he did he felt like his brain might melt through his ears. So much had happened lately that the fact that Grover was half goat almost sent him spiralling.
“Percy!! You’re okay!!” He exclaimed as he lunged forward for a hug, almost bowling a still reeling Percy over and soaking him with residual rainwater.
“G-man, hey!” Percy’s voice was strained as reciprocated the hug. Grover picked up on his tension immediately, pulling away and scanning Percy from head to toe – clearly taking in the fact that he was fully dressed in the middle of the night, something extremely out of character for the boy.
“What happened?” He asked, his concern clear. And, despite any remaining resentment he might have towards the kid at the moment, Percy was forced to respond as honestly as possible.
“I had a dream. We have to go to camp.”
Surprisingly (or not, considering little could surprise Percy at that point) Grover didn’t question him further, instead dragging him by the wrist towards the car.
The next few minutes were a blur as they all piled into Gabe’s Camaro and took off towards ‘camp’. The whole time Percy felt in a daze. Despite all of the mounting confusion and chaos, there was one thing his mind remained fixated on.
The image of the figure in the surf never fully left his mind. The pale figure was slightly blurred in his memory, just an impression of ethereal light against the black backdrop of the storming ocean. Not quite natural but right, like they were meant to be there despite not being part of the dream. Like some sort of guardian angel.
It didn’t seem too far-fetched to think that that’s what they were. Between Mrs Dodds, the dreams, his best friend being half farm animal and the fact that he was being chased by some ancient beast, a protective divine spirit felt entirely plausible. The question burst out of him suddenly as he turned back to look at his best friend, “Do guardian angels exist?”
Grover looked at him strangely, like he’d said something very strange. Yeah because Percy was the weird one in this situation.
“I guess… but that’s kind of the Abrahamic side of things, not our jurisdiction. You wouldn’t have one.”
‘Our jurisdiction’? Well that just added another layer of weird to this whole night. Percy barrelled on.
“Well, if it wasn’t an angel, I don’t know what it was. But there was definitely something or someone in my dream. But they weren’t part of it. Kind of like a ghost but brighter? And they yelled for me to run, right before you showed up. I think they were trying to warn me.”
Something terrified flashed in Grover’s expression but he seemed to force it down to ask. “What did they look like?”
Percy racked his mind to think, “I don’t know… it’s foggy. Young, maybe our age. I think they were blonde, I don’t know about their eyes they weren’t really any colour I can identify, like they kept shifting…” He paused, “They were just… beautiful. Unlike anyone I’ve ever seen.”
He could see his mom’s face out of the corner of his eye, barely catching the small secret smile she gave. Grover didn’t seem to share whatever sentiment she had, as he seemed to pale further before he let out a strange bleating sound of terror. “Uh… Mrs Jackson, you might want to hurry up. The entrance to camp is just around the bend.”
“Grover, what’s going on?! Do you know who it was?!”
Grover only nodded, his eyes slitted in dread.
“What’s the big deal then??” He asked, frustration building
Grover’s expression was grave, guilt swirling in his slitted brown eyes. “Percy, you don’t understand. The last time Adonis appeared in someone’s dream, they died.”
At the words, his mom immediately floored the gas. She was pale with fear as she glanced his way for just a split second, almost missing the car that came careening from the sky and crumpling on the road ahead of them. With a startled scream, she swerved to avoid the obstacle but soon lost control of the wheel as the tires slid on the rain-slicked tarmac.
Everything was a blur of rain and concrete as the car spun out of control. Percy felt suspended in midair for a moment as the car flipped.
Time seemed to freeze.
The raindrops halted in midair.
Everything went quiet.
The car landed upside down in a ditch in a shower of glass and sparks.
It took several moments for the throbbing in Percy’s skull to dull down enough for him to take in his surroundings.
Then came a sound that froze the blood in his veins.
ROOOOAAAARRR!!!
A hulking form emerged from the haze of wind and rain, stomping towards the wreckage that was once a Camaro at a steady, ominous pace.
It was hard to make out through the storm and fog that was Percy’s mind, and so it took him a while to realise exactly what had been sent to kill him. The unmistakable silhouette of menacing, curved horns coming into closer and closer view.
“Oh shit.”