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The Son of Storms 19
🕑 Added 2024-05-26 20:54:53 +0000 UTC“It has become a recurring theme,” Chiron muttered, wrapping the bandage around his ribs as Harry stood in his office, drinking some nectar-infused mango juice as the centaur went about his work, “Do you feel as if you are some immortal warrior of the tales, Harry? Torn flesh, broken bones, Hydra Venom, destroyed eyes, and now necrosis? What’s next on your list?”
“I always wanted to fight the Pit Serpent, if it has reformed,” he answered, and Chiron’s fingers stilled upon his ward’s injuries. Evidently, that seemed funny to the young demigod, and Harry laughed out loud, only to wince as it shook his injuries. Good, the boy needed some incentive to stay still, “Fuck, that hurts.”
“As it should child,” came the sharp rebuke, a pillar of warm yellow light appearing at the center of Big House, and he smiled as he felt his sister’s presence fill the space around him once more, and given the delighted gasp that Harry let out…Hestia’s clipped tone hadn’t registered with him in the slightest. And why should it, Chiron realized with a sigh, it had been months since Harry had seen the only mother he had ever known, even if the boy addressed the Hearth Goddess as his aunt.
“Aunt Hestia!” the boy exclaimed joyfully, raising his leg to step towards the goddess, only for Chiron’s grip on his shoulder to pin him in place. Giving him a stern glare honed by thousands of years of dealing with prickly sons of Zeus, as the boy looked at him irritatedly, he applied the salve over the bandages again, watching the dark green mixture soak through the cotton as Hestia began to walk towards them.
“Chiron,” she nodded with a smile, before her eyes moved over the dead, blacked flesh on her nephew's face, and her lips pursed in displeasure, “Necrosis? What have you tangled with this time Harry?”
“A Remnant,” he mumbled, poking his tongue out of the hole in his cheek, only to pull it back as Chiron slapped a salve-soaked patch right over the ruined flesh, and Harry gagged at the bittersweet taste now invading his mouth. “Dammit! You could have warned me Chiron!”
“And someone wanted to fight the Pit Serpent,” he snorted, feeling Harry still beneath his hand as Hestia’s warm presence turned burning cold for just a moment, the homely atmosphere feeling like a desolate wasteland as the Hearth Goddess took a sharp breath. The next moment, the demigod yelped as Hestia’s fingers found his ear, twisting it painfully.
“I will get to that later, but first of all…why were you fighting a Remnant, that too after just coming back?” Hestia frowned, his ear still in her grasp, and Chiron rolled his wheelchair backwards, pouring himself a cup of nectar as he watched the show. “Did the Celts not leave you at the camp’s borders?”
“More like at Amer-ow! Hestia that hurts!” Harry cried, only for Hestia to twist his ear further, making it clear that she was in no mood to hear his jokes. As he stood up on his toes to alleviate some of that pain, the boy seemed to wise up as he began to recount the events from where Lord Taranis had picked him up from King’s Cross. As the story continued, Chiron felt his widen more and more, especially at the bit where Harry crushed several totems at once using his Earthshaker blood.
“He could have at least let you use your sword,” Hestia muttered, letting Harry go—and Chiron winced mentally as he saw how the part where she had gripped Harry had gone blue. “Is your trunk returned?”
“It is,” Chiron spoke, nodding at the said trunk lying in the corner of his office, “it appeared in the Ocean, and a nymph was kind enough to bring it here after she realized who it belonged to. Though, it took you much more time than what I expected, Lady Hestia. Were there any problems in Takamagahara?"
“You went to the Shinto Pantheon?!” Harry asked, surprised.
“I did, Lady Amaterasu is a close friend of mine,” she smiled, nodding as he created a projection of the Shinto heaven around them, and Chiron looked with wonder at the floating islands that made the domain of the Shinto Pantheon. “It had been years since we had last met, as she has been busy sorting the mess made after World War Two ever since. And while I was there, we had a surprise visitor in the form of the Lord Hanuman.”
“The Monkey God? Even the Hindu Pantheon is real?” he exclaimed, while Chiron was more surprised at the fact that a Hindu deity had decided to venture out of their lands at all. After the Egyptian gods, the Hindus were the most secluded, and even then, all forms of communication carried out by them were usually through the Sage Naarad, the unofficial messenger of the Hindu Gods.
“They are,” Hestia nodded with a small smile, before producing a basket of mangoes in her hand. “Lord Hanuman sends these as a gift for you both, grown in his personal gardens. And Chiron, he thanks you for saving that group of monkeys from the monsters last June.”
“Whoa!” Harry mumbled, as the smell of the fruits wafted through his nose, the sweet scent nearly making his eyes close as his mouth salivated. “Why send for me too though?”
“He found your feat of slaying the Hydra, and rescuing demigods quite chivalrous, and well, he likes to share mangos with everyone, as they are his favorite fruits,” she answered, conjuring herself a chair to sit down as the illusion of Takamagahara disappeared from around them. “Lord Tsukuyomi even compared it to his brother’s battle against the Yamato no Orochi, and has indicated an interest in meeting you should the chance ever arise.”
“Harry, take these and get some rest,” Chiron spoke, taking out a couple of mangos from the basket and giving them to the demigod, his eyes turning hard as the boy opened his mouth to protest. “No. I said you are going to rest, and that is what you are going to do…or do you want Lady Hestia to be the one to order you?"
That seemed to do the trick, as Hestia raised an eyebrow at their nephew, and all of his complaints died with an audible click as he shut his mouth, giving him a sullen glare over his shoulder before walking off with the mangos.
“I can’t decide whether it is pride or anger,” Hestia muttered, watching the door close behind Harry, the faint traces of ozone in the air disappearing as the irate demigod walked away.
“I am rather happy we have not seen conclusive proof for either,” he remarked drily, remembering the last time the sons of Zeus and Poseidon had displayed either of the two virtues, and half the world had burned for it. And the less said about Harry being a special case, the better.” Waving a hand towards the gifts from the Monkey God, Chiron watched the fruits unpeel as at the same time, they were cut into slices, the pieces floating over to him and his sister. “His magic feels more refined, and certainly more powerful.”
“I am still rather fascinated by his usage of magic as a substitute for divine energy,” Hestia murmured, biting into the succulent fruit, and if Nirvana existed, she believed she had found it. Almost moaning with joy at the taste that flooded her taste buds, she looked at the fruits with wonder in her eyes. “Do you think he will mind if I ask for a few more? These are better than anything on Olympus!”
“Considering you are the most liked Greek across Pantheons, I doubt it,” Chiron shook his head with a smile. It was no hidden secret to anyone with a brain that out of the Olympians, and even the whole gaggle of immortals their family had, Hestia was the best, and the most liked one even on the international stage. There was a reason that, despite Athena holding the domains of strategy and intelligence, Hestia was the one chosen to act as an envoy and emissary.
Plus, Lord Hanuman was known to share the offerings of his garden with everyone.
The Immortal’s gentle and gifting nature aside, Chiron looked at the door and sighed heavily. “His powers are going to grow even more, chained and bound as they are going to be in the Celtic lands. It's like Hecate all over again. The magic that runs in his veins is another source of power, yet, mingles with his divine soul at the same time.”
“It is not going to add to his power,” Hestia shook her head, and he listened with attention as she closed her eyes. “Maybe not in the strictest sense. But what I think it is going to do is, mix in with his divine blood when he wants it, and stay separate when he doesn’t. It is like having two halves of a sword. He can use them as they are, or join them together to produce something entirely different.”
“We all know how that turned out with Ekrizdis,” he nodded, mind flashing back to the darkness that had clouded the Sun for days on the end, the raging black seas threatening to swallow their boats as they had stared up at the floating form the young god, his ice blue eyes staring down at them even as his vile will had threatened to destroy the whole world. The boy had not been much too powerful in his demigod days, but he had been half wizard. And that had ultimately given him a much different powerset than what they were used to. And along with that terribly versatile power, Ekrizdis was smart. He had an instinctive grasp of magic that even his mother had been wary of, the boy was crafting rituals and magicks so complicated that Zeus had seen fit to reward him with godhood after the boy had slain a minor god.
Harry, while not much of a scholarly type yet, seemed to have a similar type of understanding of his powers. Unconsciously or not, the boy had been mixing magic with his lightning for a while now, whether to control it better with the much calmer nature of magic, or just because it was in his blood, Chiron didn’t know. Even after living for thousands of years and watching a hundred different divine events, there was much about the abstract that he didn’t understand.
And neither did Hestia, if the contemplative hum she let out was any indication.
“Still, I believe Harry won’t be like his predecessors, either demigod or wizard,” she shook her head, “he has his faults, but I am yet to see any signs of him being a calamity like Ekrizdis those before him.”
“We never do until it is too late.”
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“I am telling you, Amanda, this is as surprising to us as it for for everyone, but Beryl Grace has just given birth, and once again, we have no idea who the father is,” a reporter’s voice echoed in the cafeteria, a spoon snapped in the momentary silence, bringing everyone’s attention from the television to the woman sitting in the corner, her eyes staring the screen.
“Miss, is there a problem with your order?” The waitress asked as conversation resumed across the diner, and Zoe shook her head, the Hunters around her looking at her oddly.
“There is none, my hand slipped for a moment,” she smiled pleasantly before Atlanta called her over for some kind of..mocktail she wanted, and the daughter of Atlas stared at the screen again. When one was six millennia old, mortals' scales of time seemed like nothing but eyeblinks sometimes. And as had the months since her heart-to-heart with her Lady in the woods, with only the birth of this…Jason Grace breaking her out from the monotony of the past year. But now, as she reached out towards nature with the feeble connection she still had to it as a Titan dedicated to plants, and Artemis’ chief handmaiden, she could feel it.
Births of demigods always affected the flow of energies around the world, but for the place in which they were living, it was always much more pronounced…and for someone like Zeus, or in this case, Jupiter to father a child, the effect was even more profound. While her senses weren’t anything in front of someone connected to the world like her Lady, Zoe was still capable enough to sense the slight…restlessness of the world. The gods, the spirits, the animals, and even the monsters…anyone who could sense the birth of the King of the Gods’ third child, were bleeding and resonating their apprehension, anger, and fear into the ebb and flow of the very world. Zoe wasn’t much aware of just how the connection between the divine and the physical world worked, except for the fact that even the slightest of changes in an immortal’s psyche affected the world around it in some way. And now, the birth of Jupiter’s son had created a cycle that was going to continue as long he was alive, his divine presence attracting monsters and gods alike, one to devour, the other to deceive.
And it was the Hunters that were going to bear the brunt of it.
Their task, as dictated by Zeus, was simple. To act out on Artemis’ domain of the Hunt, and kill any monsters deemed a threat to a company of demigods. In the modern classification taught to demigods, that meant a monster between Tier 3 to Tier 5. Some were simply too powerful, while others had a…what was the modern term? A Gimmick, Zoe remembered with a frown. A particular defensive or even elusive trait that made them difficult to kill, or even more dangerous. With the Hunters of Artemis primarily composed of demigods, with only a rare mortal joining them every couple of years, the Blessing of Artemis only compounded upon their already divine constitution, making them faster, stronger, and more agile than what they had been. Thus, as a task force, they were much more effective at culling the monsters and the groups that formed.
And as she had said to her Goddess a few months ago, it was her siste-
“Ah dammit, it had to be this one,” a tired, annoyed, and familiar voice broke through her spiraling thoughts, and Zoe looked up from her coffee at the entrance. ‘Great Hera!’ she sighed, realizing just who the intruder in their peace and quiet was. Though, in hindsight, it was her fault only, for deciding to sup so near the camp that a demigod might decide to have the same idea. Shadowed blue eyes looked at her the next moment, and the boy shook his head as he looked back out.
“Sir, are you waiting on someone?” The waitress that had just asked her walked over to the boy, and he gave a tired grin as he shook his head. Nodding, the young woman pointed at the only free table and smiled at him brightly. “Well then, we have a free table there. I’ll be with you in just a moment!”
“Just get me an Americano and some fries,” he smiled back, and silence descended upon the Hunters as everyone slowly realized who had entered the diner. Giving them all a look as the waitress walked back to the kitchens, the Son of Zeus walked over to the indicated table, dropping his bag upon it before sitting down, raising an eyebrow at her, “‘Sup?”
“Did thee come here on purpose?” She asked in turn, her lips pursing together in displeasure as she looked towards Debra, the daughter of Hecate glaring at the demigod along with her sisters. Understandable, considering at the last ‘Capture the Flag’, he had broken her arm, and thrown her sister’s into trees before electrocuting them into unconsciousness.
“I guess,” he shrugged, tapping his fingers on the table in a rhythm, before pulling out a couple of fangs from his bag. “Was clearing out a basilisk infestation nearby, and I decided to get my lunch here. Or is eating in the same cafe a blunder now, Huntress?”
“Nay, it is not,” she declared, subtly raising a finger to silence a couple of girls on her right, who had been rising to answer that question in a way she’d rather not deal with right now. It had been months since she had seen the Son of Zeus, as the boy had been gone to Britain for some reason according to the camp’s gossip she had overheard. And she was in no mood to re-invite his father’s ire after he had ended their recruitment ban prematurely on the account of their good conduct and Lady Athena’s advice.
“Damn, I remember her,” the boy muttered, and Zoe followed his eyes to see the headlines moving across the screen, the woman Zeus had seeded twice appearing on the channel for but a moment before they switched over to sports coverage, “Berry, Berty…Beryl! Yep, she was on the news years ago too, for the same reason…how hard is it to get a condom woman?”
Cringing visibly at that statement, Zoe stared at the demigod out of the corner of her eyes as his order arrived, and the former Hesperide shuddered at the disgusting imagery his words had conjured, "Must thou be so crass?" she muttered, almost gagging as she wondered just what the boy would say if he knew who the father was—both of the times.
“How is the Hunt?” He asked in turn, ignoring her comment as he leaned back in his seat, dropping the fangs in his bag, “I heard the ban on you guys was lifted.”
"The Skyfather did see it fit to restore the Hunt to its numbers with all possible haste," she answered, as surprised by the civil conversation this seemed to be developing into as the rest of her sisters. "We are too mighty a force to lie back in weakness, and the monsters have grown in strength and numbers."
“I wouldn’t know, they all still die in a single strike,” he chuckled, swirling his finger above the cup, and to her amazement, the spoon inside began to follow. The boy had telekinesis? Even some minor gods struggled with such a task, and yet here he was. A boy of twelve capable of manipulating physical forces. In front of her, the silently staring Phoebe too gaped for a moment. Both of them were thousands of years old, having followed Artemis since the days of Ancient Greece—and Zoe was even older, having been born to Atlas when Othrys had still stood as a bastion of the Crooked One. Giving her a look, the boy’s lips spread into a smirk and he leaned forwards. “Besides, you would know better about that. Daughter of the Titan of strength and endurance.”
"How dost thou know that?" she glared at him, and it was only the fact that they were with other Hunters at the moment that stopped her from showing her displeasure and anger more…vividly. In front of her, Phoebe quietly hid their conversation with the mist, knowing that even though the Hunt was her family, there were some secrets that she didn't want to go beyond a certain circle.
“There was a scroll in the Zeus cabin,” the boy rolled his eyes. “It was a decree from my father, commanding Hercules, the later demigods of his, to not antagonize the Lady Artemis, or her Hunters…and stay clear from Zoe, the banished daughter of the Skyholder. Not everything has to be some secretive, hyper-imaginative scheme Nightshade. I was just making idle conversation, since for once, we are able to do it without our weapons in hand and cursing each other.”
“That almost sounds wise,” Phoebe remarked, entering the conversation and glaring at Evans at the same time, “and why do you want to make conversation with us in the first place? Don’t you have other girls at the camp to…talk to?! Leave the Hunt alone boy. Did we ask for your company? Yet here you sit, forcing a conversation and talking about things that are no business of yours.”
“Damn woman,” the boy muttered, lightning flashing through his eyes as he glared at Phoebe right back, all of his relaxed countenance gone in an instant as he clenched his fist, his knuckles cracking audibly in a threat as clear as the day outside. “If I didn’t know better, I would have assumed that I killed your pet wolves or something with how petty you are being. The one time we somehow seem to not be at each other’s throats without the campers of the Hunters picking each other’s faults, you somehow find it impossible to keep quiet.”
“Everyone knows what kind of lecher you are, Evans,” she scoffed back, “Don’t try your luck here boy, or son of the King or not, we and Lady Artemis won’t hesitate to teach you your place.”
“Try it bitch!” he snarled back, and Phoebe seemed ready to skewer the boy with her knives as she leaped up from her seat.
“Enough,” she shouted furiously, grabbing her sister’s hand and pushing her back into her seat, while she glared at the demigod, her eyes flicking to the sword that had materialized in his hand. “Keep your weapons inside. I’d rather not explain to Lady Artemis why a mortal establishment was destroyed.”
“It's his fault,” she scoffed, pointing her silver knives at Evans, “if she were here, she would herself turn him into an animal and send the wolves after him for the sheer audacity of sitting in the same place as us..”
“So maybe the next time a Hydra or something like that attacks, maybe I should just stay put when it is devouring you Hunters like nuggets?” the boy snarled, and thunder rumbled overhead as his anger bled into the sky above. “Getting attacked or molested by a couple of men centuries ago doesn’t give the moral high ground to judge everyone and act better than them, Huntress! Shit happened, get over it. A thief tried to take advantage of you, and Lady Artemis killed him. He has been six feet under for two thousand years—Bury him.”
The next moment, every window in the diner shattered as Phoebe’s fist cracked across the demigod’s face, sending him careening through the panes behind him. As the veil of the daughter of Ares had created broke, every Hunter jumped to their feet at the sight of their Lieutenant jumping to her feet, while the second in command was already halfway across the street, kicking the son of Zeus into the air. A split second later, every Huntress bar her was shouting and clamoring for Evans’ head, and knives were drawn as they all jumped towards Phoebe and him, where the former was continuously punching and striking him, shaking the land beneath them with every hit.
Blinding the mortals by drawing upon the mist, she sent a prayer to Lady Artemis, staring at the sight of Phoebe punching the demigod on his face worriedly. This, this is what she had been afraid of when Evans had sat down. Now her only hope was to stop this before the Son of Zeus began to fight back in earnest, because as confident as she was in Phoebe’s abilities…she was much more worried for the rest of the Hunt, who had already drawn arrows and were looking for an opportunity to fight.
That hope was shattered a moment later as Phoebe slammed the boy into the ground, the ground shaking beneath her with a rumble…and so did the darkening heavens above.
Comments
Morgan C Williams
I just realized but is there a miss numbering of the chapters or did is chapter 18 missing?
