#pjo kampe

[tsarisfanfiction]

Eclipse: Chapter 25

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Adventure Characters: Apollo, Hades More fun and games with this chapter... Warning for emeto/vomit. I have a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<Chapter 24

HADES XXV Shadow Travel Was Not A Foolish Idea

Hades had no idea what sort of plague Apollo had conjured.  Admittedly, he was no expert on plagues, although he knew more than most from constant exposure to the many victims of Apollo’s plague arrows that had passed into his realm, but there was nothing familiar about the aura emitting from the bleached and sickly-looking arrow.

He pushed back against the stinger as it lashed down desperately, not even caring about him but clearly after the younger god, before whirling back around to destroy the new manifestations from Kampê’s waist as they attempted to reach Apollo.  The trust his nephew had shown him in this battle was astounding; it was true that this was not the first time they had fought together, nor covered each other’s weaknesses, but for Apollo to leave his back fully exposed to almost everything Kampê could throw at it was either the height of foolish mindlessness from his nephew, or a declaration of trust that Hades would watch his back.

Whichever it was, Hades would not let Kampê paralyse – or do worse to – his nephew.

The arrow punctured the back of Kampê’s neck, and Apollo immediately flipped backwards, throwing himself up and away from the monster, narrowly missing the thrashing stinger as he landed in a crouch a little way further back up the corridor.  Seeing nothing to be gained by remaining on Kampê’s back, vulnerable to both her waist’s conjurations and her violent stinger of a tail, Hades followed suit, once again calling upon the Helm’s invisibility and intangibility to ensure no part of Kampê achieved a lucky strike as he dismounted from her back with a single leap, landing beside his nephew.

At her front end still, Bob spun his spear until it was merely a silver disk, deflecting her scimitars away from him before he jumped back himself, clearly recognising that something was about to happen – provided Apollo had succeeded in somehow inflicting a disease upon Kampê, of all monsters.

It was not something Hades would have ever thought to do.  He still wasn’t sure it had been a smart decision.

No longer engaged in her battle with Bob, Kampê lashed out at the arrow impaling her neck, slicing it off halfway down the shaft as agitated serpents wound around what was left and tried to yank it out.  With her so distracted it was the perfect time to flee, or at least attempt to put some distance between them and get the opportunity to choose the battlefield themselves, but Kampê’s body was still between Bob and freedom.  As much as Hades dearly wanted to leave the blasted titan behind after his stubbornness against shadow travel – if Bob had just acquiesced then they would not have been cornered by the monstrous guard of the prison – he and Apollo were now obligated to help the titan, or at least not abandon him, lest Bob take that as a betrayal and turn on them.

Hades was sure that between them, he and Apollo could subdue the titan, but it would leave an opportunity open for Nico to force his way down into the Pit himself to check that Bob was truly destroyed – and would no doubt not speak to Hades again for at least a lifetime.  He was still making amends for the serious misdemeanours in parenting he had blundered into, actions that still hung between him and his son and left their relationship stilted and awkward; he had no wish to alienate Nico, the one remaining child he could talk with, any further.

Next to him, Apollo was rigid.  Trickles of ichor ran down his form from minute scratches he must have received from the serpents that comprised Kampê’s hair during his rapid retreat.  No doubt their fangs were as venomous as the rest of her, but Apollo had not bent to address the wounds in any way so he was presumably unconcerned.

Either that, or he was too invested in what potential disease he had inflicted upon the monster to notice his own condition.  Golden eyes watched Kampê intently, Apollo’s grip on his bow tight while his other hand held an arrow loosely, no doubt ready to nock and fire in an instant if need be.  Hades pulled his attention from his nephew to regard their opponent, fading back into view as an afterthought as the ancient monster scrabbled desperately at the arrow with clawed fingers, her serpentine hair apparently not enough to dislodge the projectile.  It left one side open as a scimitar was discarded to the floor in the process, but Bob, too, seemed more interested in watching Kampê for a reaction than breaking past her.

From her sheer desperation, Hades concluded that the arrow was doing something; Kampê was not a beast known for her paranoia, but rather her hubris.  She would not panic at something unless it had already proven itself as a danger to her existence.

A moment later, the signs became clear as she convulsed, a full-body shudder that ended with a retch that echoed loudly through the hallway.  A mixture of steaming ichor and pale green fluid erupted from her mouth and splattered across the floor.  Bob jumped back, a revolted look on his face as the disgusting mixture barely missed his feet.

Kampê shrieked, an ear-splitting noise that Hades flinched at.  Next to him, Apollo also flinched, clearly finding nothing musical about the sound, while Bob recoiled further.  The monster between them thrashed, bending down to retrieve her discarded scimitar as her tail lashed out blindly towards them.  Hades yanked Apollo back, forgoing his own intangibility in favour of making sure his nephew could still move despite the snake bites and whatever venom they had imparted.  The younger god jerked backwards, but raised his bow and with a flick of his fingers nocked the arrow in his grip and loosed it in one single motion.

It knocked the stinger away, deflecting it into a brass wall, where it wedged into an infinitesimal crack and caught short.

“Bob!” Apollo called.  The titan needed no further coaxing to run forwards, taking a flying leap over the concoction of expelled ichor and venom and deflecting away the vicious scimitar as Kampê tried to block him, before her massive body convulsed again, the shapeshifting sludge of her waist losing all form and letting Bob sail past it unchallenged.  With the tail still jammed, although from the way Kampê was convulsing, Hades did not think it would remain stuck for long, it was a simple matter for Bob to skate past it.

None of them needed any encouragement to turn away from the shuddering, furious mess of Kampê and run up the brass corridors.  Apollo dropped back slightly, glancing behind them with a brace of arrows on his string, while Bob took the lead in guiding them out of the maze of the brass fortress.  It was no surprise that the titan knew the layout so well, given that he had spent millennia within, and Hades was content to follow as long as he, too, recognised the route.

Bob led them unerringly out of the front gates.  The drawbridge across the lava moat he and Apollo had avoided via shadow travel on the way in was raised, and the molten rock bubbled threateningly, miniature eruptions spilling over the bank.  Hades did not recall it being quite so agitated the last time he visited the prison with his brothers, but with it between them and the way out, they had no choice but to cross it.

Lava, even lava from Tartarus, did not rank highly on the list of dangers the Pit presented.  It appeared more of an aesthetic choice than anything else, but Hades did not intend on underestimating any part of the Pit, especially after the earlier rumblings the moment he and Apollo had released Bob.

He did not think it a coincidence that Kampê had cornered them almost immediately, despite their distance from where she had been guarding the entrance.

“Do we jump?” Apollo asked, joining him and Bob near the edge of the bank.  The glowing orange of molten rock reflected in the golden flames of his eyes.  Bob shook his head.

“I have never seen the lava like this,” he said, planting the butt of his spear firmly in front of him.  “He is agitated.”

A look a lot like fear crossed Apollo’s face, his eyes hazing over not unlike they had been when Kampê had first cornered them, when Apollo had only barely paid attention to the fight and taken a gash from her whip for his distraction.  He had been exceedingly fortunate that it had not been something worse.

“He is rising,” the younger god murmured, a distance to his voice that reminded Hades of young women and prophetic hosts.  It was not a reminder he was pleased to receive.  He did not know how Apollo’s knowledge of the future occurred, but he was beginning to suspect that his nephew had seen something in the prison.

Before he could demand answers, or at least some degree of explanation, there was the sound of something large crashing around behind them.  Either Kampê had worked herself free and was managing to pursue them despite whatever plague Apollo had inflicted upon her, or something else in the prison was now heading for them.  Whichever option it was, Hades had no desire to face it.

“Are you still opposed to shadow travel?” he demanded of Bob, turning fully to face the titan.

“It is a risk,” Bob protested, as though Hades was not well aware of that.  “You should not do it too much, lest you catch His attention.”

In apparent response, the lava hurtled upright, straight out of its moat to make a burning wall of molten rock, too high to jump even for gods and gradually curving over from the top, like one of Poseidon’s tsunamis just before it broke and obliterated everything in its path.

In this case, they were what would be in the lava tsunami’s path.

“I think it’s a bit late to worry about catching his attention,” Apollo commented, the pitch of his voice raised slightly.  “And I, for one, do not want to get first hand experience of how hot lava can get.”  Hades felt his nephew step up next to him, close enough to grab without having to reach out at all.  The younger god’s essence churned, dimming as he somehow smothered his veiled with other, darker, elements drawn from his domains – not that Hades had not inadvertently done the same with the light of Elysium for centuries, if not millennia.  He did it again then, allowing the darkness to spill out and merge with the shadow of the rapidly descending lava as he clasped Apollo’s proffered arm with one hand.  Sheathing his sword, he extended his hand out towards Bob.

“We are going,” he said, leaving no room for argument.  “If you do not want to shadow travel so much that you would risk the lava, then that is your prerogative.”

Bob sent another look at the lava and grasped Hades’ arm tightly.  He still looked incredibly unhappy, but despite the downward turn to his mouth, he nodded.  “This is still a risk,” he said, “but-”

Hades did not wait for him to finish talking.

Usually, shadow travel was an old friend, a comfort within the blackness of night as he stepped into the shadows of the world and merged.  There was a peacefulness to the shadows, a pocket dimension of his domain where none dared tread save his subjects and children.  Within Tartarus, however, it was not the same.  The shadows here were not Hades’ to control the same way, and he could feel the primordial gnawing at his edges, a warning that he was reaching above – or below, perhaps – his station.  They had not liked being used to locate Bob within the prison, and they certainly did not like being used as transportation.

Apollo’s brightness did not make things easy.  By default, his nephew rejected shadows purely through who he was and what he was the god of, and since his re-ascension Hades was beginning to suspect his nephew was even more powerful than before.  Bob, on the other hand, despite being a bright silver, was a being of grittier mettle.  Pain and the inevitability of death clung to the titan, sensations that resonated on some level with Hades and reached out through the shadow to join with him.

The other risk with shadow travelling in Tartarus – because as much as he disliked the fact that the titan insisted on saying it, he was well aware that there was, in fact, a high risk – was that Hades did not know precisely where he was going or where he would emerge.  It had been different travelling into the prison, because he had been there before and knew those shadows, but in the wider wilderness of the Pit itself it was a different matter entirely.  He had enough orientation to know which directions to not go – down and behind, in this case – but with no predetermined anchor point, he had to stretch out his senses and take the first shadow that met his awareness, lest they truly ended up within the shadows with no discernible exit.

It was not an unlikely scenario; Hades had lost mortal children to the shadows when they had fallen in and found themselves unable to get out.

They reappeared in a crevasse, with sharp, jagged rocks on either side of the chasm.  Bob immediately cursed and began to scramble up, frantic enough that neither Hades nor Apollo asked questions as they, too, began to climb.  Almost instantly, a low threatening rumble started, and the walls of the crevasse started to move, widening and deepening and then shaking, as though it wanted them to lose their grips and fall.

Hades had no doubt that that was exactly what it wanted them to do, and had no desire to find out what lay at the very bottom of the seemingly infinite chasm.

He suspected that eventually it would open up into Chaos.

When yawning open didn’t stop any of them from their scramble upwards – Apollo once again taking on the cloven feet of a satyr to maximise his balance and jumping power – the walls rushed together instead, not unlike the Clashing Rocks at one entrance to the Sea of Monsters.

Hades had no intention of being crushed into oblivion by Tartarus.  It had been some time since he had changed his form outside of size adjustments, but it still took him but a single thought to spread his wings and with his much-reduced size dart up, out of the crevasse moments before it slammed together, leaving not even a scar to show where it had split the landscape.  A larger, black bird soared past him before morphing back into the golden visage of his nephew, and Hades followed suit, shedding the screech owl for his preferred form once again.

A highly unimpressed silver falcon shimmered into Bob, and displeased silver eyes bore into Hades.  “No more shadow travel,” the titan said firmly.  Hades had had no more intentions of doing so regardless, but he did not appreciate being told not to use one of his domains and didn’t dignify it with a response.

Apollo stepped between them, a move that looked happenstance but was clearly intentional.  “Where are we?” his nephew asked, looking around.

“Between the Lethe and the Styx,” Bob answered immediately, before Hades could begin to gather his bearings.  The titan pointed behind them.  “That’s the Lethe.”

Hades glanced back to see the familiar milky-white water winding peacefully down the surface of Tartarus some distance away.  Behind it rose the glowing brass of the prison, and the churning molten orange of lava aggressively guarding its gates.

Unlike the clearly agitated lava, the Lethe never hurried, never rushed or roiled.  It did not need to, not when it had to power to wipe even a titan of their memories.  It did not make it any less treacherous to cross – while Hades was confident they would have been able to jump it with ease, a single slip or splash would render them entirely amnesiac.

The Lethe might not try to ensnare them itself, but given the lava and then the crevasse, Hades suspected that Tartarus itself would do everything it could to force them in regardless.

They could not risk the Lethe, which left them with the other rivers to cross on their way back to the exit to the Underworld, following the same escape Asclepius had made what might have been eons ago, for all Hades could reliably track time in the Pit.

“The Styx?” Apollo asked.  Looking at his nephew, Hades remembered the goddess forcing them to divert, refusing Apollo crossing on account of his broken oaths unless he was willing to pay the price.  It was not a price his nephew had been willing to pay the first time, and Hades doubted he wanted to pay it this time, either.

“There,” Bob said, pointing in the opposite direction – the direction they were now forced to go in, as there was no way to avoid crossing the Styx on the way to any of Tartarus’ viable exits without backtracking across the Lethe, which would no doubt prompt questions from Bob.  The dark glittering water of the Styx was far closer than the pale waters of the Lethe, and Hades got the impression that they were being watched.

It was not a new sensation; eyes had observed them down in the Delta, and on approach to the prison.  Not all of it could be attributed to Styx, but Hades was certain that she was at least one of their observers – and likely one of their most benevolent, for all that she despised Apollo.  He would willingly take Styx’s observation over Tartarus’, which was a malevolence slowly gaining more and more clarity.

He is rising, Apollo had said, and there was only one he that seemed likely.  It was also a he that Hades had very little desire to ever confront directly.

Bob knew the layout of Tartarus far better than Hades did, and seemingly had no qualms about taking the lead.  The titan headed for the river without waiting for either of them to agree that they should go that way, and Apollo’s face shut down in a way Hades suspected hid panic.

“It is the only way out,” he told his nephew quietly, watching the titan forge a path ahead of them.  Apollo frowned, and Hades found himself disliking the shuttered look on the usually expressive younger god’s face.

“I came here to protect Will,” Apollo murmured, so quietly it was more akin to a breath of air than intentional speech.  “Not to damn him.”

That confirmed Hades’ suspicions of the price, and he let his shoulders drop slightly.  “We will find a way,” he said.  His nephew’s face flickered with brief emotion – mostly despair, but Hades did not think he imagined something akin to gratitude in the depths of his fiery eyes, and wondered at how much things had changed between them since they had arrived.

The Apollo that had entered Tartarus would never have let such emotions show where Hades could see them.  Indeed, they had been more prone to arguments and division than unison, and Hades would never have suggested sharing the responsibility of protecting one of Apollo’s myriad of children, not even William.  The we that had slipped from his mouth unbidden yet naturally hadn’t even registered until Apollo’s reaction.

Hades liked it, he realised.  He had almost always enjoyed Apollo’s presence, for all that he had hidden it and often cut their interactions short, but it had been distant and stilted, a bright nephew too vibrant to truly gel with the shadows of the uncle.  It had felt almost as though he had been reaching for something he was not allowed (something else he was not allowed, the same way he was not allowed to visit Olympus, not allowed to walk freely with the rest of the gods across the Overworld because his youngest brother had decreed as such).

Down in Tartarus, that barrier between them had melted away to nothing.  It had been natural, even, once they breached the Asclepius problem, and while Hades was not so naïve as to think there remained no grievances between them – he had, after all, been the one to curse Apollo’s Pythia for decades, and neither of them had made a move to address that – it felt as though their relationship had tightened considerably.

There were very, very few others he had ever allowed so close to his essence, and even less he had merged with, even peripherally.  Rediscovering aspects of himself that meant he and Apollo were not so fundamentally different after all was in some ways a relief – Hades had always been the different Olympian god (technically not even an Olympian, thanks to his brother’s decree), the disliked and even reviled one on the fringes.

Apollo had never rejected him like some of the others, but the fleeting glimpses of openness his nephew had begun to grace him with, especially since Hades had managed to tell him that he didn’t hate him, were something else entirely.  It was something like trust, and that was something gods did not offer openly, not after millenniums of learned jadedness.

Hades found that he did not want to break it.

“Come,” he said.  “Before Bob wonders why we are not following.”  The titan was already looking back at them, although it wasn’t slowing his advance at all and he was almost at the river bank.  With a sigh akin to someone resigned to their doom, Apollo slunk forwards.

Hades was glad when Styx rose out of the river as they approached.  If she had not been there, Apollo’s crossing would have sealed his son’s fate.  As it was…

“Hades,” she greeted, dark eyes glittering.  “Iapetus.”

“Bob,” the titan corrected, drawing her attention away from where it had begun to focus on Apollo, who was standing tall as though he had every right to be where he was.  It was a godly posture, a front that Hades had seen many times before but not realised the depths of.  Even now, he would not have known that Apollo was terrified had his nephew not as good as confessed as such.

“Bob,” she repeated, “I see.”  Hades supposed she did; passing through Tartarus as she did, she likely knew far more about the titan than most.  Then, her eyes turned back to Apollo, whose posture was as rigid as any of the statues that bore his likeness.  “Apollo.”

Hades’ nephew blinked, a small concession of surprise, and lowered his head in a measured fraction.  “Styx.”  Clearly sensing something that wasn’t being said, Bob turned to look at the pair of them – goddess and god, facing each other like a huntress and her cornered prey.  Even Hades found himself somewhat wrong-footed at her use of Apollo’s name, rather than the persistent epithet she had bestowed upon him.

“You are not forgiven,” she said, rising fully from her river until only her feet were part of the running water, but not taking a single step out.  “However, your repentance is noticed.”  She stepped forwards, stopping at the very edge of the water where only the soles of her feet and her toes ran with the river.  It was as fully humanoid as Hades had ever seen her without leaving her river – an act that Styx did only very rarely.  “I will give you a choice.”

“Like the last one?” Apollo hazarded a guess, his voice sounding bitter, but she dismissed his words with a careless swipe of one hand, water cascading from the limb and splattering the surface of Tartarus at Apollo’s feet.

“In a sense.”  Considering the last one was the choice to go all the way around the length of the river or damn his son, Hades did not consider it to be a reassuring answer.  Nor did Apollo, from his still stiff posture.  “You have an unfulfilled oath.  Your son.  Somehow, you have managed not to break it yet, despite the opportunities.”

She had to be referring to the oath his nephew had made within his palace, that William would never set foot in Tartarus.

“Cross me, complete your quest, and keep that oath for the rest of his life,” she said.  “Do that, and I shall consider the penitence for your broken oath met.  Cross me and fail this quest, or break the oath, and he is mine for the taking.”

Apollo hesitated, and Hades wondered what Styx gained from her change in tune – or if there was a hidden catch.  There was a visible catch that she considered failing their current quest enough to unleash her vengeance on the demigod, even without the additional broken oath, but between two titans and a god, there should be no reason for them to fail.

Was there?

Styx had no domain of prophecy, no reason to even know the prophecy Apollo had recited in his throne room, but there were lines in there which predicted dire straits for light and gold.  Per the blasted thing – because Hades would never like prophecies, even if he knew how important Apollo considered them to be – either Apollo or William could still be in peril.

“Well?” she prompted, leaning forwards but not leaving the water for even a moment.  Only the droplets that had flown from her brusque action had touched Tartarus’ skin, and Hades suspected it was deliberate.  “What is your choice, Apollo?”

“Don’t I get some time to think?” the god deflected, and she bared her teeth in a mimicry of a grin.  The expression was purely predatory, and Apollo stiffened again.

“You do not have time to think,” she informed them, voice lowering into a hiss.  “Tartarus is displeased at Bob’s attempt to escape.  Before, you were insignificant gnats beneath his notice but in present company you are fixed directly in his sights.  Creatures from the depths are rising, crossing me in droves.  Every move you make is watched, you have been followed since choosing to take on this prophecy of sunshine and darkness.�� The longer you think, the further his wrath reaches.  You already know you can’t escape the same way as last time, Apollo.  You are invaded by the fringes of his essence, and those fringes are shackles.”

The hidden meaning was suddenly clear; they could not go around the Styx.  Tartarus was rising, and if they, too, did not keep rising they would not escape at all.  Hades had no idea what she meant by the same way as last time, but sensed that now was not the time to ask.

If they failed to escape, Nico and William would no doubt eventually venture down themselves, to face the same total destruction Hades and Apollo had taken on the quest to protect them from.  The choice was no choice at all.

Realisation lined Apollo’s face, and the younger god stepped back once, twice, as Styx eyed him in amusement.  Then he ran.

His running jump took him sailing across the breadth of the river with ease, and he landed lightly a few paces from the edge of the bank.  The goddess laughed, a low noise that could have been either with or at Apollo.  Hades suspected the latter.

“Always so dramatic, Apollo,” she said.  “Your son’s fate is in your hands, now.  I suggest you’re careful with it.”

“Will’s fate was in my hands the moment I decided to intervene,” Apollo replied, still standing tall and no longer seeming at all cowed by the goddess’ threats.  “I have no intention of failing him now.”

Styx grinned her vicious grin again.  “See that you mean what you say, this time.”

She disappeared, the water that made up her form splashing down into the river once again to join the flow downwards, towards the depths where Tartarus was stirring.

“I thought your son was merely involved because of Nico,” Bob observed, leaping across the river himself.  Hades followed suit, eyeing his nephew to try and determine how much of his confident posture was an act.

It didn’t feel like one.

“There’s a prophecy,” Bob continued, a mild accusation.  “And you interfered.”

“I have as much right to the epithet sunshine as Will,” Apollo replied, standing his ground.  “He would never have survived this journey.”

There was no doubt in Apollo’s voice, and Hades shared his certainty; Nico, too, would not have survived a second trip – it was still incredible that he had survived the first, even with the assistance of a titan.  Whether or not attempting to take their sons’ places had been the correct decision, it had been the only decision that they could make.

Now it was up to them to make sure the prophecy would never mean their sons.

“We are running out of time,” Hades said firmly.  “This conversation can be held whilst walking.”

“I want to hear the prophecy,” Bob insisted, but Hades had not waited for agreement before beginning to move, and Apollo fell into step at his side.  With a noise of clear frustration, the titan strode to catch up.  “What does it entail?”

Apollo shook his head.  “Not down here,” he said.  “Too many ears could hear.”  He cast a wary glance backwards, as though he could sense someone behind them.  Given Styx’s words that they were being followed, it would not surprise Hades if his nephew could sense their pursuit.  “Once we’re out.”

“You realise he also knows prophecies,” Bob said.  “I do not know why he has chosen to follow us, but withholding a prophecy from him is an exercise in futility.”

“You know who it is?” Hades demanded, casting his own senses back to try and pinpoint their tail.  There was nothing identifiable – familiar, yes, but only on the very hazes of his periphery.

Before he could once again try to grasp their identity more firmly, his senses heaved, jumbled and discordant as something shoved against his essence.  He stumbled, almost falling to one knee, and beside him Apollo mis-stepped.

Then the ground gave way.

Chapter 26>>

[artsicfox]

TW// slight nudity

Kampê's description is very chaotic, but that only made me want to draw how I visualizer her more!♡

[narcatsisst]

so far (im 120 pages in), battle of the labyrinth has been my favorite pjo book. im kind of biased, because ive always been fascinated by mazes and labyrinths and things like that, but the atmosphere is just so..... i dont know how to explain it. and the whole situation with janus? the way kampe is described? amazing. wonderful. 10 out of 10. so very excited to see how this book continues.

[cardinalmecha]

Monsters I am excited to see the designs of in the PJO series in no particular order!

Charybdis and Scylla

The Drakon

Kelli and the other Empousa

Geryon

Mrs.Dodds/Alecto and the other Furies

Medusa

The Gray Sisters

The Hundred Handed Ones

Mrs.Leary/Hellhounds

Hippocampi

Kampe

Dr.Thorn/The Manticore

The Ophiotaurus

Scythian Dracanae

The Telekhines

and last but not least Typhon!

[linipik]

Ooo, whats Nyxs plans for Adam? How do the others feel about their Roman counterparts (and whats Lances reaction to Alluras bf)? Do the romans tell Allura about Lotor?

Voltron x PJO AUpart 1 | part 2 | part 3 | Part 4

As always, i am sorry for my writing, i am no writer. and sorry for taking so long in updating this AU.It is written the same way I narrate to myself but the general of the story is all there! (and I think this is the longest part to date)

RECAP TIME:

Shiro, Keith, Lance, Pidge and Hun are Greek demigods, Allura is a Roman Demigod. Their quest is about finding Matt and getting to Mount Othrys  since it is appearing because rough demigods *cough* Lotor guiding the Romans *cough* are siding with Kronos because the Gods have gone radio silent for WAY too long. Reah helped Allura to get to Camp Half Blood and meet the Greeks because she doesn’t want his husband to pit demigods against the gods anymore  but she made Allura promise to not reveal the the thing about camp Jupiter existing… They parted on their quest, had a couple of bonding moments *WINK*  and when they got to the Gods Junkyard they met some roman demigods who were scrapping for weapons and who attacked team voltron only to be saved by MATT (accompanied with other demigods  surviving away from any of the camps). 

Under the cut is how it all follows

FIRSTLY lets move to Tartarus:Adam FELL…into tartarus only to be found by Nyx on her flying chariot and Adam convinced her that he was more valuable alive. 

Nyx took Adam as errand boy in tartarus in exchange of the death mist thing and you know, not dying. Doing that he found the hermes shrine and he tried to contact his father or anyone without much success for MONTHS but at least there he got some food, so…yeah, it wasn’t all that bad. But of course the more he tried to contact his father , and after not getting an answer, it really seemed the gods couldn’t care less about their half human children and it can make anyone feel angry and unimportant.

Every single soul on tartarus has a thing against zeus and demigods and he always said like “ im just the messenger i dont care”, but since everyone is so bored they kept asking him about what got him there. But he had to be careful af bc telling dangerous ancient souls about how much he missed his bf a son of zeus (or ex boyfriend he is not sure) was SO not an option. BUT was by meeting these ppl that he met one of those kings that have escaped tartarus in the past and BOI did that gave him faith. It was possible. The thing is  being in tartarus is weakening for a demigod, repeating yourself enough times that you are NOT dead is not enough to believe.. you are not dead. He rly wants a way out and, after all, Adam is the son of Hermes, god of travellers and the only god to be able to travel from the land of the dead to….anywhere so he had to channel he had that in himself, he only needed a way to get OUT. One of the days he is in the Hermes shrine he gets a dream on how to get out there: One of the non guarded, full of monster, secret doors to the mortal world through the labyrinth.

That is when he sets on that journey and finds in the entrance to the labyrinth/ exit from tartarus. He also finds in that exact point a adamantine sword: perseus sword (not percy riptide. Perseus,) a harpe giving to the olden hero by hermes, (The harpē  was a type of sword or sickle; a sword with a sickle protrusion along one edge near the tip of the blade made of the indestructible metal adamantine , check it out it is pretty cool). The sword is cool and all but as always with demigods, when something good happens it only means something worse it’s on its way. And finding a weapon is bad news and everyone knows it.AND THAT is how Adam got out of tartarus. By then a year or so has passed and it is basically in the same moment hour 6 heroes start their own quest.

NOW..There are romans demigods with Matt, they recognise Allura  and don’t really trust her because they kind of think she is with Lotor, but Matt is like, NAH she is with MY friends , with MY sister and they trust she so, she is alright and while they are camping in some safe part of the junkyard Matt explains to Voltron team about how camp half blood is not the only camp, and that there are…more ways a demigod can survive away from camp, there are the amazons and the hunters and all kind of side places created by demigods for demigods where they can feel safe. 

They all then look at Allura who is relieved she can come clean to her quest mates, but then then she is confused by why Romans are attacking them, and some of the demigods who are with Matt say it is Lotor (who..it really is but Allura didn’t know is siding with kronos) and Allura is like “No no, it can’t be, Lotor is thoughtful and charming and a great leader who will always have his reasons and wants the best for Camp Jupiter and he is a real Hero “ half flustered and Lance sees that Allura actually...like-like this Lotor. Who seems to be La creme de la creme in the Roman camp while Lance is a rookie demigod, not really a fighter, on his first quest and he has been about to die most times than all of the others together in the past like 3 days.. 

And Lance just goes by…oh because he wanted Allura to like him because he was really liking her and the way she seems a full flagged fighter and leader. BUT still in a very Lance way he sides with Allura in front of everyone including the demigods who are not trusting her, “ of course she is not doing this to harm other kids, she has risked her life for us and she could enter camp halfblood so she is good and full of good intentions and Reah herself guided her to us so she is great”. AND Keith is like….oh because it seems Lance really likes Allura  and even if they were hitting it off with the Pegasi maybe it was all in his head and Lance would like more someone like Allura who is actually thoughtful and not him who doesn’t know where his head is half the time :’)So..how to get from Arizona to Mount Othrys without being spotted by rough demigods, the romans AND all kind of monsters ON TIME? The only answer they find is The Labyrinth that is equally dangerous but could keep them away from revealing their position and their plan to the Romans. The idea is that Allura gets to camp Jupiter and confront Lotor …without being detected so she cant be stopped by Lotor….right handsMatt navigated trough it enough to suggest it is possible to get everywhere from there, Shiro is having a mental breakdown because he doesn’t want to get inside it again but he is good at hiding his feelings and be a Good Leader ™ But Matt is gonna keep with the demigods trying to slow down the romans and monsters while mount ostrys just gets more powerful and to distract them from the real quest with team voltron.

…And Pidge. Pidge is like NOUP I promised Athena I will bring you back alive and I found you and I wont Let You Go Again, We are heading back to camp because that is the only logical solution. Nothing says WE have to keep in this quest and we can go back regroup in camp half blood and live to fight another day with a better plan.But Matt has changed a lot since he went out on his quest with Shiro and Adam and he has met these amazing demigods and  he tells her there are many things worth fighting for that thinking with her heart is equally important, and that they will meet again in camp Jupiter.In the Labyrinth!So yeah everyone kind of say their good byes and goes separate ways entering the labyrinth, technically they were set on following monsters (brilliant plan) because they are being kind of called by mount Othrys. As you know, the labyrinth is a fucking mess and without a real way to navigate it it is impossible to be completely sure what is going on, It changes and it seemed it was fuckin with them. After an incident with some flesh eating horses and trying to get away from rough demigods and monster trying to get them to the gladiator arena, a big attack from a Kampe it all goes to hell. 

They found themselves in a REALLY  small passage where SHiro is having a problem with his mechanical arm and hunk is trying to see what made it high-wire so much ,Lance started to get on his own, because he is brave and he could get them out of there and maybe he just have to knock on that weird rock door with a strange painting. That is when the painting in the wall started to look more than real and the Kampe spotted Lance first of course, and while he froze at the giant horrible monster who was destroying the walls and the floor and everything in the small passage materialising in front of him, Allura saved his sorry ass (again) controlling the mist as well as she could, but since she has been more worried about the entire Lotor siding with Kronos thing, it is not…as effective as it should. Pidge is trying to REALLY work up  an exit, and thinking quick she tells allura to distract the Kampe with copies of them while they escape from the roof. BUT the Kampe is not fooled and When Allura and Pidge  are the closest to the improve exit on the roof, Shiro and Hunk are about to get decked, Lance in one of his hero complex things gets the full attention of the monster again and Keith goes by OH No. Not. Again. and gets Lance out of the way. Lance is getting really furious with Keith bc it is the zillion time Keith takes him out of the way  of a fight, as if he was not able to do things himself. The beast is attacking Keith now, frustrated that his precious prey got away and makes the floor crumble with Shiro and Hunk sliding further down, Allura Pidge and Lance got into the way of the roof and keith is channelling all that energy, the one that made him get to shiro back in his first quest, and he is able to step on the rock doorway disappearing from the monster. 

Shiro and Hunk end up together in one of the most ancient parts of the labyrinth, dark, smelling like wet earth and little breathing space….,and poor shiro who was trying so hard to keep calm is 5 minutes into losing it completely , he, a son of zeus is underground, feels trapped and thinking they can end up in the gladiator arena again is driving him a bit too insane. Hunk is seeing this and does what he does best, try to get how the current problem works, bu this time is not some piece of metal but it is Shiro’s entire existence. ANd for all that is worth, Hunk is really good at coming trough for others in pinch moments.

Lance Pidge and Allura end up together navigating the most tedious part of the labyrinth. dumb monsters marching to the same place  and they cant do anything but follow them with the help of allura’s mist to disguise them and praying Lance natural monster magnetism doesn’t get them killed…and the only door they find ends up in the middle of a GIANT field, so no help. It is tedious af and it just gets MORE tedious by their current situation: Allura is  trying to get the mist to work for her but she is having a hard time concentrating after learning her family, the romans and…Lotor are behind Kronos getting stronger. 

Lance is  trying his best on keeping not only alive but showing he has everything to be a hero, but honestly he is debuting everything he knew about himself, He has been about to drown, he froze in front of a monster, he never knows what is going on. He has no quest experience like shiro and keith, he is not good at solving puzzles like Pidge or repairing stuff like Hunk, not to mention he had no idea about the romans or any of the problems Allura is having but he still tries hard to be the charming demigod who is no afraid of anything and is there to support her every move. Even tho he knows…it has been Keith the whole time who has been taking him away of fights the entire time, even fixing his mess of waking the Kampe, probably for the best because maybe…just maybe…Aphrodite kids where not mean to be on quests after all.)

Pidge, is just looking at the horizon like she is in the office. Matt might be her beloved brother, but seeing how they all are thinking with their hearts and that is making them terrible for this quest is another level. And Lance,…lance is ranting to her how he could totally go against Kampe if Keith did not interfere again and again. BUT Pidge knows that Keitth has a problem with Lance being in danger and it is not because Lance is not capable exactly and more with Keith crushing hard on Lance, So she yeah, she is trying to side with Keith here out of solidarity and convince Lance that Keith is not trying to sabotage him or any of those things. That maybe Lance could learn from keith and spend more time with him maybe (wingman pidge ftw)

Keith ended up alone in the labyrinth and after being able to use again his  doorway powers he finds himself in a room with two doors and a doorman in the middle of them. The two faced doorman is Janus himself ask him which is the door he is gonna go, which decision is the correct one since he will have to make The Choice of His Life in the future….and inpatient Keith start asking Janus ALL the questions at once starting by “what was that?”, “what does his coin means?”,”what was his mother relationship with Janus?”, “that he knows about the romans and that it is unfair he didn’t knew before” and blablabla. And janus is like,one of this doors give you all answers, the other takes him to certain death and Keith goes by coin flipping decision time in hopes he could trick Janus into revealing the correct one since he figure out Janus is just trying to fuck with his head. And surprise! the moment he flipped the coin it transformed into an imperial gold gladius and keith basically surprises janus, Keith goes to stab him and janus just disappears through one door and keith in a moment of good judgement goes to the other because Janus of course went trough the door that would kill Keith. SO…he gets to the door with the answers BIG GASPSO

Back to Hunk and Shiro are in one of the ancient marts of the maze and they start walking thanks to Hunk who was prepared to go into a really dark place and has scraps from Hephaestus Junkyard. And in one of those rm=emote parts of the Maze, they start hearing talking, HUMANS talking, to be precise demigods and it means it is the same kind of demigods that are working with monsters and trying to get Kronos back and Shiro is like protector mode ACTIVATE and is ready to fight them as soon as the turn one corner but the  demigods sound like they are..discussing between them SO they end up getting as close as they want to hear what they are talking about and SHiro just stops dead on his trail as he recognises one of the demigods….it is Adam.

and Shiro NOW stops breathing. So hunk resolves that the best approach is NO fighting so he kind of goes in making himself appear he is on their side  playing innocent and that some leader needs them BUT Adam recognises him from camp and Adam gets Hunk is Lying. He is about to knock Hunk out and… shiro interferes. So you know this is the first time they see each other after their fight back before Shiro was captured and made a champion, before Adam went to tartarus and Back. (their fight was about how shiro is always playing the hero and getting himself and everyone around him into dangerous shit and how Adam was playing it safe and never wanting to risk more than he should. BOth were correct) Adam: I thought you were dead Shiro: I thought YOU were deadAnd it ends up being the Most Awkward Reunion in the world. like Hunk thought they were gonna be fireworks and tears and a kiss but it  is nothing like that. They fall directly into quest mode because talking about their feelings is recognising their previous fight and that they separated.Adam stares at shiro new scar/arm/hair all the time and Shiro stares at adam new sword/dark circles under his eyes and he is always On Edge. Both look tired and terrible. .Hunk is like, OKAY good the update but we should be thinking on getting to the others!! and Adam tells them that the baddies have a way to navigate the Labyrinth accurately : clear eyed mortals who are in danger and shiro is all like, we HAVE TO go for them. And it is actually the only plan they have. Anyway, Adam has been with the rogue demigods for some time now and knows a weird lot about their plan, he is totally aware that those are demigods tired of being the pawns of the gods and after his field trip to tartarus he honestly sees why.  of course shiro and hunk tell him , about the Romans and about mt othrys  and how Kronos is gaining power from the rogue demigods and more monsters and titans and everything is marching destroying any minor deity or nature spirit who is on the God’s side and how even then…the god’s have been silent. surprising no one.

Allura Lance and Pige arrive to the place the monster are marching to inside the labyrinth: It is an Arena and they recognise it as Shiro’s gladiator arena and MMMM they are starting to also see rogue demigods and minor deities and things are starting to get dangerous but they can’t turn back or they get more attention than they want so they go inside the arena where everyone is  reuniting for something and trusting the mist to do its job BUT before getting in they get spotted by a girl in a cell: She tells them how weird is to see a purple shirt (Allura) with two orange shirts (Lance and Pidge) and even more that they are disguising themselves. The girl looks like she has been in the cell for LONG time: Surprise it is Shay, (a clear eyed mortal) but they couldn’t open it at all so they moving inside the arena for what seems a BIG meeting promising her they are coming back for her.

MEANWHILE, Keith finds himself in the door with the answers. He is now in a warehouse in the middle of a meeting. Of several romans. Who are now looking at him like he just insulted them and their mothers. And They are all “noooo this cant be that door was enchanted” and keith is all “YOU ARE MY ANSWER? WHO THE F ARE YOU ALL? WHERE IS JANUS?” They are seeing a young demigods with a CHB shirt  wielding an imperial gold clearly roman sword ready to fight. Not Normal at all. And a clearly old guy with a scar in one eye and the BOSS  is all “kid, you are a roman” . Things start computing in his head the coin, the weird way he was able to find SHiro, his past encounter with Janus… but keith goes “I am a son of Ares” From the group of romans a woman calls his name: “…Keith?” and… that is when Krolia appears.

Reunion Time! Krolia is a Janus Legacy and went to Camp Jupiter back in the day, this group is an Olden Elite Roman Secret Group part of the old Preatorian Guard, who never ceased to exist and that has been moving parallel to Camp Jupiter for centuries. They are the Speculatores Augusti, dedicated mostly to avoid the secret of the existence of the romans demigods to go out there  and keeping the roman problems…roman, it is like a legend inside camp jupiter but they still exist in the shadows. and right now they are trying to calm this nonsense. They Know about Lotor, and they know that the plan is to turn demigods away from the gods and that it would revive Kronos.

Some Backstory:

Krolia is not a demigod directly, she is a Legacy but an incredible good fighter and then she got with Ares. Krolia met Texas after being pregnant with Keith. (insert here an incident Texas going all, wow pregnant lady you alright?) And wao, they hit it off really, enough to Krolia consider to have a mortal normal life…normal as it could be. And Keith was born and they were a family for little time but then rumors started about Kronos awakening slowly  and that Keith would be in the middle of the THAT war and that the Romans where starting to not hear from the gods and suddenly it all started to be more than rumors so she decided to leave them and try to stop whatever was happening from inside. And she left them with  a janus coin so he could know something about his roots and , making texas promise he wouldn’t let keith go to any of the camps and Texas was like OKAY but he died when Keith was 10 or something and Keith ended up in camp Half blood anyway…. And she didn’t know until this moment when her son was in front of her and now she knows texas is dead and everything is a little bit too sad.

Keith tells them what he knows from his quest, about shiro about the arena about allura about the rogue demigods and about the other good demigods working with Matt he is basically full of good info and it gave them the ultimate details to do finish their STRIKE the  that has to be ASAP before that whole army marches to mt Othrys  and puts in danger the entire world. And Keith is like….but for Kronos to gain all his power he will need more time…that is what Matt said. And they explain that the one danger in Mount Ostrys is no other than Atlas himself and if someone takes the sky from him The General of Kronos would be Free and that would mean The End. 

And that is how the entire secret roman group Keith is now part of goes to the place where the big army is reuniting: The Arena (btw this is the group that has Ariadne’s String and that’s how they can use the Labyrinth )

THEN

We have the three groups all reuniting in the same place.Adam Hunk and Shiro want to rescue the innocent mortals Allura Lance and Pidge are there to know what the in the hades is going onKeith is there with the Speculatores to stop the armyThe monsters are all ready to  part and in the podium there are Titans are guiding the army and some demigods allura recognises as ex- roman campers, and they say the found a way to navigate the labyrinth and that they are going to san francisco immediately to liberate their general and to meet with the Romans who are also tired of the god’s nonsense, between the horrible noises monsters did in agreement. Allura is seeing how this only could be possible with the help of someone INSIDE camp Jupiter but she doesnt want it to be Lotor. and asks herself why Reah didn’t say anything when she send Allura to CHB. Lance and Pidge see that the mist is really wearing off and that Allura is tired to the bone so they start to head to the exit but it is cramped with monsters, and a random demigod spots Lance and they are in REAL problems now that the baddies are have seen him, but not…them SO…..Lance does the sensible thing and tells Pidge that it is important to get Allura to Camp Jupiter and he directs the attention to himself. 

 Adam Shiro and Hunk are using a moment when all the baddies are distracted with something to open the cells of the mortals (thanks lock picking  Adam abilities via hermes) and they get to Shay, she tells them that Allura Lance and Pidge are there..NOw the monsters being distracted and furious make sense and it is horrifying . SHiro jumps to go to look for them despise Adam telling him to wait that he feels something is Not Right and he is getting really frustrated with shiro because of his hero complex and there is when HUnk tells Adam that probably is because Shiro  has more of a survivors complex since the moment he arrived to camp half blood without them, that probably even when he was in the arena he felt more lucky than matt and  him since he was alive. Adam is like, damn him, and HUnk is like MAYHAPS if you too talked you could get somewhere YOU KNOW, being under heavy circumstances can really make anyone  have a crooked perspective and that it is what always happens with old machines that often people dont know it but they work like that too. and you just have to be kind and  work with that new perspective to be able to see the present and what is happening and not what it is supposed to be happening. 

Shiro finds Pidge and Allura first and send them to where adam and hunk are close to the cells, and Pidge tells him that Lance did probably the most stupid thing ever  but there is a WALL of monsters and is being really difficult to get to where Lance is and curses his entire existence for being underground and not having the space for flying or lightening or nothing and he feels USELESS AF

Keith is with his new roman secret organisation intending to work again from the shadows, after hearing the plan or the army heading to mt othrys the plan to take as many monsters down right there right then is the best. They plan to blow the  arena and send the majority of monsters direct to tartarus or some pit deep down. But then, there is the shift in the monsters attention and when Keith and others go to investigate from one of the upper levels of the tribune before, you know, blowing the whole thing up. From there…He sees is mother fucking Lance and his heart stops or beats faster…Lance is alone  surrounded by so many monsters that it is ridiculous and holding a number lance is in “who wants to go against ME first uh? maybe this is the lucky day any of you get to kill a beautiful son of Aphrodite OR maybe I could kill you?? who knows!!”and “That telekhine thinks he is better than all the empousai look at him! he is gonna strike first! are the empousai so weak they are gonna let him win? really?”and pinning the  monsters against each other and it is ridiculous and charming  but over all dangerous because it is obvious to Keith Lance could not go if 3 or more of the monster decided to attack together. So he tells the other speculators to wait 5 minutes so he can save Lance, they say 1 or they might miss the opportunity to blow the most important titans.  So that is the best he can get. Keith starts going down to the arena where Lance is, resolved to his bones to WIN and pulverise anything that dares harm his… friend

Lance has been streaking of with his bow any monster who is falling for his taunt and pinning some of them against each other but arrows are limited and he lost his sword back with the Kampe. Monsters seem to be picking up that too because the circle is getting tighter and there is no way out but if he is going down he is going down fighting. Keith gets to him 

-queue to some serious Ares Blessing Moment-

 Lance shoots his last  two arrows and starts hitting monsters with his bow …and then Keith is in front of him , red glow around him and practically…invincible. Lance is half jealous, but also half in awe. Keith is more than a natural wielding not one but two swords (his spatha and a new golden gladius) (was that even possible??) The monsters who were all focused in Lance didn’t see Keith coming at them Keith passed him his spatha in the middle of the fight and it was even better than when they were sparring at camp. They didn’t need words to know what to do and they were holding it well against the monsters and it felt that, at that rhythm two demigods did had an opportunity to come out alive. A second later shiro’s metal arm appeared harming  a monster, and Keith just yells at shiro “The floor!” and takes lance, holds on to shiro and BAM-

There is no more floor! the explosion takes half of the Arena , many monsters start falling and shiro is concentrating the entire power he is channelling from the very deep of his gut into not letting these two demigods and himself fall with the rest of the confused monsters. The explosion gave him enough wind to fly a bit and it is the best he has felt since entering the damned labyrinth. And soon gets them to their even larger group.

- NOW they are all reunited!

They are all happy to be reunited again, but it is Big Awkward tm. Lance was SO close of dying so many times it stopped making sense, Keith  is a roman Legacy,Adam is alive but spend a weird amount of time on tartarus and then with the baddies and that mess up any demigod,  shiro and him have a silent treatment going (weighted by all  the things they want to say to to each other that have been accumulating for they time apart) Allura is a bit heartbroken and confused because everything she knows is going down, Pidge literally let Lance distract the monsters because it was the only logical thing to do but he is also her friend and it was…not a good decision and she knows it. And Hunk, the Hephaestus child is trying his hardest in keeping them going somewhere. while taking the rescued mortals out of the labyrinth.So they head to the next exit they find to regroup and think what they are going to do.

Allura met the boss speculators augusti, Kolivan , and she is shocked something so secret has been running alongside her camp for so long…but she is relieved not all romans are on the bad side and gives her hope that camp jupiter has survived so many things They tell her to not open suspicion to lotor when they get to san francisco…so they have more of an element of surprise to defeat him.The Roman BoM is down to closing any doors from inside the labyrinth, rescue any other mortal that could be helping the army and Get to camp mt othrys, after all they have ariadne;s string to navigate that hellhole.

Lance is decided to follow Pidge advice and reallt talk to Keith, after all they were working well together, it has been a life or death situation but somehow it felt just right , being with keith, fighting side by side, it felt like they could do anything.

“Hey man…Thanks for saving m- “and keith interrupts him angry and welp, that is so not what lance was expecting “are you insane? WHAT? what the fuck where you thinking, are you a martyr? do you have a death wish? if you ever get in some stupid situation like that again I….” and keith shuts up but Lance follows anyway, “you what? UH KEITH? you WHAT!? “Keith: “just get out of the way and let the others do their job” and thats is the last drop for lance,”am i in the way? YOU are on mine. you are always on my way. I know you think i cant do this , you think so low of me that i cant survive on my own, we all know you are so good , a Natural, well, you are not the only capable hero-” Keith :”ï dont care about being a stupid hero! “ Lance: “WELL, I DO” lance is about to cry and is when  keith knows he cant keep being around lance, he doesn’t want him in danger and Lance will only keep heading first to complete that damned quest. Keith  knows lance is good he is what heroes are made of and honesty that scares him. Heroes don’t have happy endings, right?.  Lance just stands up and goes. It all was a mistake, going to Keith was a mistake and he was a fool for believe he and keith were even playing on the same field because every time it seems they have something going it ends up even worse.

and keith is not even surprised it all ended up badly he knows the demigod way and it is that for every good thing that happens, something worse is coming: adam is alive - he seems like he’s seen death, he found the truth about himself - the romans are this close on bringing Kronos back, he gets close to lance fighting side by side - apparently lance hates him, SO…ketith decides to go with his mom , “after all adma is here, you are six now for the quest , and…we will find each other again at mt othrys or camp jupiter”  he tells them 

And the guy just…LEAVES. everyone is a like “don’t be a stranger, see yah soon,  BYEEEE” well, Keith found his family his entire legacy thing so…they  show all the support they can . BUt Lance, he cant believe Keith is quitting! now that is betrayal even so…he was the one who tell Keith to leave(him alone).

Keith disappears through the labyrinth with his mom and the Speculatores and the rest of the team is left to get to camp Jupiter and try to stop Lotor  before Kronos Army gets to Mount Othrys and free the titan Atlas.

__

BONUS DOODLE because you made till the end!

THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR READING! you all deserve another golden star!!

Hope you are enjoying this story, also I think there is only one update left!!

and if you have ANY question, i am Happy to solve anything

and consider donating to my KO-FI, maybe???

Also, another pull through for @monthlyklance in their Klance AU Month

Disclaimer: 

SO YOU KNOW, the speculatores Augusti  existed and were distinguished by special secret boots, all is super secret and i thought it fitted perfectly to the Blade of Marmora.

I use Kronos even when referring to Romans because changing names too much confuses me :T

[arrowloosed]

ROLEPLAY HISTORY. 

The rules are simple! Post ten characters you’d like to roleplay as, have roleplayed as, and might bring back. Then tag ten people to do the same (if you can’t think of ten, just write down however many you can and tag that number of people). Please repost, don’t reblog!

tagged by : @mvndrvke​ tagging :  

I know this says ‘ten’ but I’m simply not following. 

CURRENTLY PLAYING: 

* = semi hiatus / will write if requested 

clint barton ( marvel ) 

sophia keener ( marvel, semi-oc ) 

pepper ( good omens ) 

benny hammond ( stranger things ) 

annie smith ( magic tree house ) *

tobias curtis ( scorpion ) *

sylvester curtis ( scorpion ) * 

emily prentiss ( criminal minds ) * 

elle greenaway ( criminal minds ) * 

derek morgan ( criminal minds ) * 

malia waincroft ( hawaii five-0 ) * 

kono kalakaua ( hawaii five-0 ) *

john doggett ( x files ) * 

william scully / jackson van de kamp ( x files ) * 

WANT TO PLAY

dustin henderson ( stranger things ) 

winston bishop ( new girl ) 

i pick up something from every show i watch 

HAVE PLAYED 

sarah pezzini ( witchblade ) 

abby maitland ( primeval ) 

danny quinn ( primeval ) 

connor temple ( primeval ) 

alice cullen ( twilight ) 

esme cullen ( twilight ) 

natasha romanoff ( marvel ) 

haley hotchner ( criminal minds ) 

peter burke ( white collar ) 

finn ( star wars ) 

maximum ride ( maximum ride ) 

iggy ( maximum ride ) 

angel ( maximum ride ) 

nudge ( maximum ride ) 

and other various OCs ( marvel, PJO, other ) 

WOULD / WILL PLAY AGAIN: 

sara pezzini ( witchblade ) 

abby maitland ( primeval ) 

danny quinn ( primeval ) 

alice cullen ( twilight ) 

peter burke ( white collar ) 

finn ( star wars )

[blackjacktheboss]

In the 4th PJO book, it's mentioned that one of the gods is going to check out the titans that are locked up. Do you have any ideas about what the various prisons were like, since you're so great at coming up with headcanons? The only two described in canon were Calypso's island and the Tartarus fortress where Kampe locked up the original Cyclopes. Btw, your blog is the best!

you know, I can’t say that I do! I feel like they may have been in more traditional prisons though, like Hephaestus and the Cyclopses forged some sort of special cages?? maybe out of celestial bronze? That’s a cool thing to pick up on though, I've never thought about it much! 

[son-of-poseidone]

THESE NEED TO STOP HAPPENING IN PJO FICS:

-Annabeth cheating on Percy and breaking up with him because she “found someone more powerful” than Percy... She isn’t some power obsessed maniac like Luke was. She loves Percy because he’s Percy. If she were power hungry, she wouldn’t have turned down the Hunters. Unless you’re a demigod that ascends to godhood, immortality and some Artemis archery skills running through you is as powerful as you can be. So in those fics where Percy leaves camp heartbroken because Annabeth cheated on him, it just completely craps all over her amazing character.

-Percy isn’t a blithering idiot... Is he a bit slow sometimes? Yeah. He definitely is. But he isn’t stupid. Remember when he challenged Briares, a monster with one-hundred hands, to a game of rock paper scissors when he’s just a guy with two hands? He outsmarted him. He pulled out a gun and trumped all one hundred of Briares hands and used some pretty great Athena-like intelligence that saved him, Briares, and Annabeth’s lives. ANNABETH HERSELF HAD NO IDEA HOW TO PUMP UP BRIARES’ SELF-CONFIDENCE SO THEY COULD RUN FROM KAMPE.

If you have any more, please add to this list.

[tsarisfanfiction]

Eclipse: Chapter 26

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Adventure Characters: Apollo, Hades Ichor warning up ahead, which probably surprises no-one given the chapter title. I had a lot of fun with this chapter, which also probably surprises no-one. I have a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<Chapter 25

HADES XXVI Tartarus Is Unleashed

A chasm opened up beneath them, loud and furious, reminiscent of a gaping maw, and only a desperate leap had Hades finding the edge of it, clinging on and hauling himself up.  He couldn’t see Apollo or Bob down below, and had to trust that they, too, had avoided falling into the no doubt bottomless pit.  Shards of Tartarus gashed his hand, the first sign that they had travelled far enough up to have left the membrane behind and instead had reached the vicious and jagged surface near the uppermost reaches.  Hades ignored the ichor spilling from his hand as he pulled himself to his feet, sword in hand for all that the weapon would do him no good against the ground itself.

In his periphery, a flicker of silver indicated Bob’s presence, spear whirling and thrusting at a swarm of monsters as they approached.  Golden arrows streaked through the red-tinged miasma, reassuring Hades that Apollo, too, had escaped the fall, but they were all in different places.

Bob was the furthest up, silver feet stained with gold as the surface tore at his feet while monsters threw themselves upon his spear.  None of them were significant, merely the lowest level of rabble that spawned in Tartarus, but the hoards were far more numerous than Hades had seen in millennia.  It would not be enough to wear the titan down, but it was certainly enough to slow him down through sheer numbers.

Apollo was the deepest, a golden light the far side of the chasm, where the ground was still shard-free.  He, too, was swarmed with monsters, far more than he had arrows in his quiver, and the golden light was at least in part his nephew’s essence leaking out to incinerate any monsters that got close enough to otherwise touch as he emptied his quiver and was forced to resort to materialising arrows in combat.

Hades had found himself off to one side of the fighting, and for the moment spared of monsters although there was a faction quickly approaching him, growling and roaring loudly as they brandished a variety of weapons and claws.

He fended off the first wave with his sword and the smallest leak of his presence, obliterating swathes of them at once.  They were by no means difficult to defeat, but Hades was not ignorant to what was truly happening: the three of them had been separated.

The monsters were not the main issue, but they were numerous enough that navigating the chasm between them was severely hampered, especially as the ground kept shaking, kept moving in ways that didn’t seem to affect the monsters but made Hades feel as though he was on one of Poseidon’s most rickety, unreliable boats in the fiercest storm the combined powers of his brothers could conjure.  Smaller gashes opened up beneath his feet, forcing him to keep moving as he blasted more and more monsters away, but the more of his essence leaked, the worse he felt.

Tartarus was invading him, heading straight for his essence and infecting it with something dark, darker even than the darkness of the Underworld, of the shadows Hades commanded.  Using his essence to incinerate the monsters surrounding him quickly proved to be more detrimental than beneficial; after one particularly vicious streak of darkness tearing at him, Hades yanked in his essence and restricted himself to using only his weapons – Stygian Iron feasting on the sacrificial pawns Tartarus was throwing at him while the Helm blasted out as potent a fear as it was capable of, paralysing all but the most foolhardy of assailants.

This would not wear him down, would not wear Bob or even Apollo down – his nephew’s glow had faded, no doubt his essence equally pulled in away from Tartarus’ defilement, but Apollo could do more than fire a bow in combat and was taking as many monsters down in hand-to-hand as he was with his arrows.  Flecks of golden ichor speckled the rumbling, changing surface of Tartarus, but it was insignificant, not even noticeable as ichor loss.

They needed to not be separated, Hades knew.  There were far, far worse things in Tartarus than the small fry currently being thrown at them, and the only explanation was that Tartarus was delaying them, biding his time while worse things marched towards them.

There were things in Tartarus that Hades had not seen in millennia, things that could defeat gods and titans, especially if they were fighting alone.  Spawn of Tartarus, of Gaia, of Ouranos – some things that had never left Tartarus, never reached the Underworld let alone the Overworld.  Horrors beyond mortal comprehension, that lurked on the very edges of things even the gods could imagine.

If Tartarus was rising against them, then it was only a matter of time before those monsters reached them.

The decision of which way to press was so simple that Hades barely registered making it.  The faint golden glow of his nephew acted as a beacon, even in Tartarus the sun around which everything else ought to revolve, and Hades didn’t hesitate as he began to cut a swathe through the swarm of monsters doing its best to stop him from reuniting with the younger god.

Apollo, too, appeared to have realised that fighting solo was the worst thing they could do.  The distance between them shrunk far more rapidly than Hades’ progress alone should dictate as his nephew also fought to get up the slope, stumbling every so often as the primordial body beneath their feet gave a particularly sudden and sharp tremor.  Occasionally, Hades spared a thought for Bob and snatched a glance up the slope, to where the silver titan was reprising the fighting style that had earned him his epithet of the Piercer.  He did not appear to be struggling, so Hades felt no remorse for heading for his nephew first.

Fire roared towards him just before his swarm of monsters was absorbed into Apollo’s, preventing him from pressing the final short distance to his nephew’s side, and the first of Tartarus’ vanguard appeared with a chorus of snarls and howls.

The creature had three heads, like Hades’ faithful guard dog, but despite being Cerberus’ sibling, that was where the similarities ended.  One maw, fanged and surrounded by fur caked with dried blood, gaped wildly as more fire spewed from its throat.  The second, in a head which protruded from the beast’s spine at an awkward angle, brayed in fury, while the third spat venom with pinpoint accuracy at Apollo, who winced as it connected with his face and dragged a line of bubbling, dissolving flesh from just below his left eye.

Under normal circumstances, engaging the chimera in battle would not have been a concern.  It was hideous, yes, and powerful the way all of Echidna’s children boasted, but it was not a match for even one god, let alone the might of two gods combined.

However, it would be foolish to even consider it anything other than simply the first member of the next wave of opponents, each of which would no doubt be more powerful than the last in what Hades suspected was designed to be a battle of attrition.

Tartarus had near-infinite monsters to throw at them.  Most would do nothing but waste their time, but others would wear them down, slowly but surely weakening them until they fell.

Hades pushed past the chimera, evading both the spew of fire from its fore end and the spat venom from the rear, and finally made his way to Apollo’s side, cutting down the hellhounds that leapt at his nephew from behind as Apollo fired an indiscriminatory volley of arrows at the masses of monsters that tried to get close.

Tartarus vibrated again, a new rhythm that threw off their balance for a precious moment as the chimera darted forwards, crashing into Apollo and throwing him back with its horned goat head, towards the chasm as the snake of its tail wrapped around Hades’ neck and sank its fangs into his throat.

Hades roared as the venom sank in, searing his essence and tearing apart the flesh of his form as ichor rolled down his skin, tracing a line down to his sternum beneath his armour, where he felt the liquid begin to pool.

“Hades!”  A hail of arrows shot past his vision and the snake hurriedly retreated, peppered with golden shafts.  Apollo was perched on top of the chimera, oozing ichor but still intact and most importantly not falling down the chasm the monster had tried to throw him into.  The tail lashed at the younger god, snake jaw opened wide, but Apollo leaned to one side, a precarious movement that needed godly defiance of gravity to succeed without toppling from the beast’s back before shooting it point blank with an arrow to the eye.

The chimera roared, thrashing violently as the serpentine third fell slack, and Apollo leapt nimbly from its back, twisting in mid-air to send another volley at the goat’s head.  Pulling his hand away from the punctures on his neck, Hades darted forwards to hack at the lion’s head, the two gods working in tandem to tear the creature apart.

Behind them, something squealed like a stuck pig, and Hades spared a glance back to be sure that Bob was still behind them. He was, and with his spear was more than capable of skewering pigs – or the monstrous equivalents bred in Tartarus – but it was a reminder that all three of them needed to rendezvous as quickly as possible, before something worse appeared.

Scorching fire blistered against his form as he hacked the lion head of the chimera away from its body, gritting his teeth against the feeling of being burnt as the ichor of the monster seeped into the ground.  Beside him, Apollo wrenched the goat head away from the body with nothing but brute strength, before they leapt back in tandem as the monster disintegrated into dust.

There was no moment for a respite, no moment to even try and heal their wounds.  Chimera venom churned through Hades’ essence, uncomfortable in the extreme, but he could do nothing but force it from his mind as he and Apollo stuck to each other like glue and forced a path through the monsters to where Bob was fending away a winged sow.

The titan was holding his own reasonably well.  Unlike Hades and Apollo, however, he had not attempted to move closer, leaving a yawning chasm directly between them, and an entire host of monsters blocking their way around the ever-increasing edge.  Large chunks broke away and fell in, widening the maw, whose edges were sharp and jagged, not too dissimilar to Charybdis in the sea of monsters.

It was not a favourable comparison.

Hades and Apollo managed to almost battle their way through the myriad of hellhounds, empousai, and other insignificant creatures to Bob’s side – the titan noticing their approach and attempting to herd the pig back in their direction – but Tartarus was far from done with them.

With a roar that would have been earth trembling if Tartarus was not already completely unstable beneath their feet, a gigantic lion with sharp teeth, sharper claws, and a coat that gleamed golden barrelled into them from the side, almost immediately followed by a seven-headed hydra which went straight for Apollo, hissing fiercely as each of its heads struck in rapid succession but no predictable pattern.  Hades couldn’t spare the time to see how well his nephew evaded the multiple heads as the Nemean Lion turned on him, bodily trying to force him back into the makeshift jaws of Tartarus while its own jaw did its best to tear him to shreds.

The coat, famed for its impenetrability, held up even against Stygian Iron, leaving Hades in a battle of pure strength as the Lion snarled and tore at him with teeth and claws alike, scoring armour and tearing through souls to leave deep gashes that leaked ichor steadily.  Nothing Hades could do seemed to affect it, an insult given that he knew Herakles had defeated the creature with his bare hands.  Its mouth seemed to be an obvious weakness, but the beast was canny enough to never open it except at the last possible moment before it tore out a chunk of either Hades’ armour or Hades himself.

A silver spear thrust past his cheek as the lion lunged for another bite, and with a roar that turned into a yelp, the beast impaled itself on Bob’s weapon as the titan finally reunited with them.

“This is bad,” Bob observed unnecessarily as Hades jammed his sword between the spear and the inside of the lion’s mouth, before he and the titan pulled their weapons in different directions, tearing the beast apart from the inside out.  It burst into dust, without even having the courtesy to leave its spoil of war behind; an impenetrable cloak would have been incredibly useful.

Apollo stumbled into Hades’ back, swearing at the hydra in a variety of Ancient Greek dialects as it pursued him.  It did not appear to have gained any extra heads, but neither did the array of arrows in each head appear to have killed any of them.  Instead, they all seemed angrier than ever.

Bob batted them away with his spear.

“We need to get out now,” the titan said, and neither Hades nor Apollo had any argument against that fact, for all that it was far easier said than done.

All three of them were injured, although none so much that it affected their ability to move or fight.  Tartarus, however, refused to let them stand on stable ground, rearranging beneath their feet constantly with no pattern Hades could predict.  It was still a long way until they reached a viable exit, with at least two more river crossings to navigate, and it was undoubtable that Tartarus would not stop hounding them until they escaped – or were defeated.

Still, they ran, mowing down all the smaller monsters that sprung up in their path with a combination of sword, spear and arrows.  Most fell easily, with other monsters closer to the calibre of that of the chimera or the hydra still pursuing them taking more effort and costing them more ichor in return.  The hydra continued to be a nuisance, its heads refusing to die of arrow wounds while Hades and Bob were unable to cause much damage without risking more heads springing up in its place.  It was also fast, snapping at their heels no matter how quickly they could run.

Then their dubious luck ran out.

Ahead of them, furious and stinger lashing, Kampê materialised.  She still looked battered from their encounter, no doubt transported ahead of them by Tartarus himself, but whatever plague Apollo had inflicted upon her appeared to have passed.

“There is no escape!” she hissed.  Both hands held a scimitar, while her grotesque midsection contained a third clawed hand which held her fiery whip.  “You-”

Her voice gargled, suddenly cut off by a large arrow that had passed directly through her throat.  It was not one of Apollo’s – Hades was highly attuned to his nephew’s weaponry and style of arrows after seeing so many of them fly, and beyond the basic shape, it had nothing in common.

The shaft was ice-white where Apollo’s were a mild gold.  Fletching a colour closer to ice blue than Apollo’s bright gold surrounded the bulkier butt of the arrow, while the tip glinted with the tell-tale purple-black of Stygian Iron.  It was more reminiscent of the arrows Hades had witnessed Orion using, but surely even with Tartarus actively interfering, the giant could not have regenerated so quickly.

That said, even if Orion was back, Hades could see no reason for him to fire upon Kampê.  The giant would go for Apollo first.

“A useful tool,” a voice commented, carrying well despite not being unduly loud.  “I can see why you created this, grandson.”  More arrows flew, whispering past Hades and thudding into Kampê’s chest, but Hades’ attention was taken by the owner of the voice – a familiar voice, for all that he hadn’t heard it in millennia – and realised that they had a whole new problem.

Ice blue, the colour of glaciers that hadn’t melted in at least as long and had no intention of doing so any time soon, appeared in his periphery and despite his better judgement, Hades turned to face it directly.  By his side, Apollo appeared to be struck numb, gripping his bow as though he feared it was about to be taken away from him.

Bob, on the other hand, had no such qualms.  “Brother!” he greeted as he once again bashed back persistent hydra heads.

“Iapetus,” Koios – another titan, the titan of the north and not one that had ever had his memories wiped and personality reset by demigods, luck and the Lethe – greeted near cheerfully.  At his waist sat the almost too-large sword Hades remembered from millennia ago, but in his hand was a massive longbow, taller than the titan himself, and the colour of Stygian Ice.  It could not actually be made of the material, otherwise it would have shattered after one use, but to see a titan with a weapon that had not existed the first time he had walked the Overworld was deeply concerning.  “You weren’t planning on leaving me behind, now, were you?”

“It’s Bob, now,” the other titan corrected.  Koios snorted.

“Why you helped the demigods that did that to you I have no idea,” he said, “but very well, brother, if you wish to use their pet name for you instead.”

Next to Hades, Apollo twitched, a fraction of a pause between arrows before he sent more into Kampê’s still advancing body.  The golden shafts were smaller than Koios’ icy imitations but no less dangerous as they hailed down on the monster.  Hades didn’t trust Koios and his new, ranged weapon not to stab him if the back if he went to engage her directly, so with a pointed look at his nephew so that Apollo realised he wasn’t joining that fight, he instead joined Bob in beating back the hydra, careful not to behead it and increase their problems.

His nephew’s reaction to Koios’ words stuck with him, however, and Hades didn’t disagree with it.  Unlike Bob, who had a record of helping demigods and even after regaining his memories still showed care for Nico and the other Tartarus explorers, Koios had never demonstrated any love for demigods at all.

Hades also could not see any reason why Koios would not attempt to continue his brother’s work in opposing Olympus, which meant that if he came out with them, they would be facing an unwelcome additional problem – and any goodwill they might have been able to eke out of Zeus, as laughable as that idea already was, would be completely overridden and obliterated by the fact that they were responsible for yet another threat to Olympus rising.

“Why did you take so long to join us, Koios?” Bob asked, leaping up as a hydra head lashed out at his feet.  “You have been following us since the Lethe, at least, have you not?”  Hades ducked down as another two heads struck at his neck, which still burned from the chimera’s poison, and pushed away three more with the flat of his blade when they went for his midsection.  The silver tip of a spear slammed into one above, and finally managed what Apollo’s arrows hadn’t as the head fell limp.

One head down, eight to go, with Kampê behind them and Koios’ intentions unclear, to say nothing of whatever else Tartarus had headed their way, because Hades was not naïve enough to think that a half-dead jailer was the climax.

No, Tartarus had far worse things to offer than that.  They needed to get out before the full strength of hell was unleashed.

Somehow.

“Before then,” Koios corrected.  “The godlings caught my attention when my grandson went supernova where the rivers meet.  I simply wanted to be sure that they were truly trying to rescue you, and not just providing lip service to appease the prophecy.”  Ice-blue flitted past Hades’ periphery, and Kampê let out an outranged shriek as metal clashed with metal.

“I know better than that!” Apollo protested, but the titan snorted.

“You already interfered by taking your son’s place,” Koios dismissed.  “Phoebe did not gift you Delphi so you could pick and choose who her prophecies regarded, grandson.”

Hades ducked back from the hydra, spinning on the spot so that the latest attack went past him and impaling one of the heads as they did so.  Two heads down.  His change of position gave him a glimpse of Koios, whose massive sword had just cut straight through Kampê’s midsection.

The monster gave one last outraged screech before exploding into dust.

It took Apollo and Koios barely a moment to turn their attention to the hydra, the titan once again resorting to his bow – when had he learned to shoot one of those so accurately – as a hail of golden and icy arrows descended upon the multi-headed beast.  With two gods and two titans on the offense, the hydra was quickly outmatched and lost function in each head, one by one, until there were no living heads left.

“Lead the way,” Koios said immediately, shouldering his bow.  Unlike Apollo, he had no quiver of arrows, clearly relying on materialising them as needed.  “You have an exit plan, do you not?”

Hades bristled.  “Why do you think we’ll let you come?” he demanded.  “Bob is one thing, but you-”

“You will,” Koios said, a cocky grin on his face that screamed a surety that Hades wanted to eliminate.  “I will see the skies again, with my brother, my grandchildren, and you.”  Derision dripped from the last word; clearly Koios was not impressed with his presence in whatever future vision the titan of knowledge and heavenly prophecy had seen.

“The future is not set in stone,” Apollo said quietly, his voice taking on the same tone Hades had heard so many times before, whenever anyone tried to interpret prophecies before it was time.

“Some things are,” the titan corrected.  “You are still young, grandson, and have much to learn about the vastness of prophecy.”  He put a hand on the hilt of his sword, straightening his stance so that they could see his entirely uninjured form.  “Besides, I do not think you are in any position to decline an offer of help.”

Hades scowled, irritated that the titan wasn’t wrong, but it was Apollo who caved.  Of course it was, after Styx’s words.  William’s fate rested on Apollo getting back out of Tartarus, else the Styx would have him.

There was no way on Olympus that Apollo would let that happen, even if it meant making a tentative alliance with a titan with unknown motives.

“Fine,” his nephew snapped, clearly unhappy.  “We’re wasting time discussing this.”  He stalked forwards, drawing Hades’ attention to the fact that Tartarus had stopped assaulting them, almost as though the primordial had been waiting for their decision.

It was a reprieve that wouldn’t last long, but they would be a fool not to take advantage of it.

“I look forwards to working with you, grandson,” Koios grinned, following on his heels.  Unhappy but aware that there had been no other sensible choice – Koios might still turn on them, but refusing his help would have guaranteed it – Hades strode to catch up, Bob at his side.  He couldn’t read Bob’s thoughts on his brother joining them – the titan seemed to have no quarrel with Koios, but they clearly disagreed on the fundamental matter of how they viewed demigods.

Bob would protect Nico, and likely Perseus and Athena’s daughter besides.  William would almost certainly be included in his protection once the nature of his relationship with Nico was revealed.

Koios clearly had no love for demigods, and Hades suspected he could go as far as being actively hostile towards them, much like Kronos had been, if it suited him.

“My name is Apollo,” the younger god corrected sharply.

“Are you that eager to deny our relation?” Koios returned.  “I’d ask how your mother is, but I believe you haven’t seen her in a long time.”  The accusation was pointed, and Apollo’s posture was stiff.  “I’m looking forwards to seeing her again, under the sunlight.  It’s been a long time.”

Tartarus heaved.

Beneath them, chasms gaped, spewing sulphur and lava out of nothing.  Hades darted to one side, vaguely aware of the other three similarly dodging the suddenly ever-changing scenery as their reprieve came to a sudden and violent end.  They didn’t get a chance to regain their balance before something clawed its way out of the largest lava pit, completely unaffected by the lava, sulphur, and shaking ground.

Hades had seen it before, but he had never fought it, and had never intended to.

“Run!” he snapped, pushing himself across several erupting fissures at once, feeling it tear at his form but bearing it no heed as he reached Apollo.  His nephew needed no prompting, having actually once fought the monster and clearly not eager for a rematch.  Hades didn’t know what the titans were doing and didn’t particularly care, either, as a blast of fire caught the two gods from behind, charring their armour and blistering their skin.

It hurt, but worse was the icy grip of fear that settled in the centre of his essence, reminiscent of millennia ago.  Hades hated it; how a single foe could reduce him down to sheer blind terror as he ran, one hand gripping Apollo’s arm – or perhaps it was his nephew grabbing his arm as they ran.

Behind them, Typhon roared, the sound reverberating through his innumerable heads.

Ahead of them, a woman cackled.

“Poor, pathetic godlings.”

Hades and Apollo almost ran straight into her serpentine coils.  Echidna grinned down at them, her fangs sharp and glistening with venom.  “There’s no escape for you, or your titan friends,” she told them, and Hades barely got his sword up before her tail lashed out, throwing him backwards, towards the advancing form of Typhon.

“Hades!” Apollo yelled, his voice shrill with a terror he’d never heard his nephew emit before, but Hades couldn’t respond as the too-many fingers of one of Typhon’s numerous hands grasped him and crushed.

A streak of gold hurtled past him, bright in a way that could only be one being, and Hades drove his sword into the fingers holding him, flaring his entire essence, Tartarus’ toxicity be damned.  If he held back even a fraction, he would be destroyed.

Typhon had once taken Zeus down, the only being to ever manage it.  Hades was no weaker than his younger brother, but he was still outmatched, even without Echidna’s presence.

He burst into pure essence, losing his form entirely to slip out of Typhon’s grip and hurriedly reforming something to land on his feet.  It wasn’t his usual form, was barely a form at all, but it had feet to stand on, a hand to hold his sword, and a head to bear his Helm, and that was the bare minimum Hades needed.

Fighting was foolish.  Even working together, the four of them would never defeat the mother and father of monsters in their already weakened state, disadvantaged by the terrain itself working against them consciously and maliciously.  Escape was the only option.

Escape was as impossible as winning.

Somehow, Hades found Apollo again, his nephew’s golden glow partially from his essence and partly from the ichor liberally coating what was left of his form.  His bow was broken.

“Both at once?” It was resignation more than a complaint.

“Overkill, I know,” Echidna’s voice floated from above them before a bullet of silver crashed into the ground beside them, narrowly missing an opened vent of lava.  “But it’s been so long since my husband and I had some fun together.  This is our first date in several millennia, you know!”

There was no way Tartarus had mistimed the vent beneath Bob.  They were being toyed with, and Hades did not appreciate that in the slightest.

A moment later, Koios joined Bob in a crumpled heap, the titan hauling himself back to his feet shakily.  His ice-blue visage was coated with golden ichor.  “Isn’t this a bit much?” he grumbled.  His bow, like Apollo’s, was broken, but he hefted his sword, arms shaking but still determined.  Beside him, Bob wielded what was left of his spear, jagged where it had been broken mid-shaft.

The fact that they’d all been herded together spoke to how outclassed they were; there were very few things that could stand up to the combined might of two gods and two titans, but already Apollo could barely stand, Hades’ form was half-formed at best, and the titan brothers were staggering despite their best efforts.  Echidna and Typhon had no fear of them at all.

“Well, my dear?” Echidna wondered, slithering closer and looming over them all.  “Which one do you want to tear apart first?”

Chapter 27>>

[tsarisfanfiction]

Eclipse: Chapter 24

Fandom: Trials of Apollo Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Adventure Characters: Apollo, Hades Another long chapter ahead! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter... hopefully it doesn't get too confusing in places. I have a discord server for all my fics, including this one!  If you wanna chat with me or with other readers about stuff I write (or just be social in general), hop on over and say hi! <<Chapter 23

APOLLO XXIV

The silver titan Trapped within his buried cell Trouble comes hunting

The titan didn’t move, but his eyes flickered from where they had been regarding – searching – Apollo to focus directly on Hades.

“I am both,” he said.  His voice was lower than Apollo expected – not the gravelly tones of Alcyoneus, but a voice that would no doubt join the bass section of a choir.  “Bob and Iapetus.”  He didn’t move from where he sat.  “They are different stages of my existence but I will not erase either from who I am, now that the choice is mine.”

That… Apollo could understand that, to some extent.  Zeus had not stripped his memories, the way Iapetus had been dunked in the Lethe, but he had taken away everything else, forced him to be Lester while he fought to still be Apollo.

He was both now, too.  Lester-Apollo, Screech-Bling had titled him, the same way mortals had once named him Phoebus Apollon, and many others beside.  Lester was another part of him, part of his history but part of his growth, of who he was now, for all that he still preferred and used Apollo as his name.

Even Hades inclined his head minutely in what Apollo assumed was a gesture of at the least comprehension, if not understanding, although he otherwise stood tall.  His uncle was wary, he realised – Apollo had no personal history with the titan, but his uncle had once fought against him, and no doubt knew him well from the battles.

There was a lot to learn about your opponent in a war.

“Which stage are you in now?” the older god asked, and the titan made a noise that could almost be resigned amusement.

“Nico taught me much about demigods, humanity, and kindness,” he said, “and it appears that once learnt, those things tend to stick.  I am Bob, now, Hades, and I do not think I will ever use the name Iapetus again, but do not mistake that for the amnesiac, bumbling janitor who swept your halls.  I have not discarded the title of Titan of the West, nor the Piercer.”

“Bob the Piercer, Titan of the West,” Apollo mused, sounding out the name.  “I understand.”

Those sharp silver eyes snapped back to him.  “Leto’s son, if I’m not mistaken.  Phoebus, as I recall.”

It was a light feeling, to be called his mother’s son, rather than his father’s.  Apollo nodded.  “Phoebus Apollo,” he clarified, and was surprised at a look of near-approval in Bob’s eyes.

“I can see Phoebe in you,” he said.  Apollo had barely heard his maternal grandmother’s name in millennia, outside of his own epithet.  It was rare enough that his titaness mother was mentioned in modern times.  The titan looked between the pair of them.  “What brings the two of you to visit me?  Missing your janitor, Hades?”

“Nico.”  The demigod’s name was heavy in the miasma of the prison, sitting between the three of them with no mere insignificance.  Bob’s eyes widened a fraction.  “My son.”

“You, a god, came down here on the request of a demigod?” Bob asked, clearly surprised.  Apollo understood that, too – gods did not do things because demigods asked them to.  It just didn’t happen.

“No,” Hades said.  “I came down here because my foolish son intended to come back himself.”

“What?” Bob demanded, half-rising from where he sat in the first open display of emotion beyond guarded curiosity.  “No.  Nico, Percy, Annabeth… none of them must come back!  The Pit… he would obliterate them from existence!”

“In that, at least, we are in agreement,” Hades told him, voice clipped short.  “I have explicitly forbidden my son from ever attempting to return here, but for you, it appears he had no qualms about attempting to disobey me.”

“Nico…” Bob sighed, shaking his head in something lightly despairing.  Apollo knew that feeling all too well.  “So you are here to, what, eliminate me so that Nico has no reason to try?”  Apollo found himself pinned by silver eyes again.  “And this does not explain Phoebus’ presence.  Phoebe bequeathed you Delphi, did she not?”

Bob was clearly not someone to be underestimated.  “One of my sons would not let Nico come alone,” Apollo told him, not responding to the veiled suspicion that there was a prophecy involved.  Sometimes, prophecies were best left unshared, although he was well aware that the clear omission no doubt told Bob that there was one.  From the look the titan gave him, he didn’t think that was a good enough reason by itself, but Apollo didn’t elaborate; for one thing, he didn’t know if Nico was out to the titan, and while Bob was of an era much like the gods where such things as same sex attraction and relationships were normal and nothing to get agitated about, that did not mean that coming out did not mean something far heavier in modern mortal’s eyes.

Hades, thankfully, showed a similar degree of tact by not elaborating on his behalf.  “We came here,” he began, starting to inspect the wall separating them from the titan, “because the demigods’ intention was to get you out, and if we do not, they will.”

“Out of this prison, or out?” Bob demanded.  Neither Hades nor Apollo answered, and he frowned.  “I won’t say no to leaving this place,” he said, “but I find it difficult to believe that two Olympian gods want me free.”

He had a point – Apollo was acutely aware that they couldn’t necessarily trust the titan to not attempt something similar to Kronos, but he was also aware that Nico, and Will by extension, would not be satisfied until they knew Bob was no longer in trouble in Tartarus.

“Consider this thanks for keeping Nico alive during his time down here,” Hades replied, rather dryly.

Bob assessed him with clear suspicion.  “You put a demigod’s life on par with a titan’s?”

Hades put a stubborn hand on the brass material separating the two of them.  “My sole and last living son’s life,” he corrected, an admittance Apollo had never expected to hear him say, especially to a titan.  “Although should you betray him, or me, I will not hesitate to send you straight back here.”

Finally, a slow grin spread across the titan’s face.  “That, I can believe,” Bob said, standing up straight at last.  “Very well, Hades, Phoebus.  Get me out of here and I will not betray Nico’s trust… nor either of you unless you betray me first.  Does that sound fair?”

Apollo glanced over at Hades, and was slightly surprised to see his uncle glance back at him; he had expected the exchange to be primarily led by the older god.  So far through what could only be called negotiations, he had not anticipated his opinion being sought, and yet Hades’ glance could only be described as in askance.

Usually, an agreement as potentially devastating if broken as the one Bob proposed was sworn on the Styx, but Styx had been specifically appointed the keeper of godly oaths, and while that trickled through to bind their children through their heritage, it did not backtrack through lineage to the titans – and even if it did, as far as Apollo knew, Iapetus had had no godly descendants himself.  Nymphs, yes, and even mortals if his lineage was traced far enough, but no gods.

It was an exercise in – and a test of – trust.  He and Hades could be bound to the Styx, if pressed, but Bob would not be, and binding themselves thus when the titan could break the agreement without consequence was in no way a good idea.

That being said, Apollo sensed no lie in the titan’s intentions.  There was no tang of deception hanging between them, nor had he seen any glimpses of potential futures where Bob turned on them.  That was not to say it would not happen – Apollo’s glimpses of futures were sporadic at best, and the Fates often withheld vital personal moments from him (such as his third time mortal, or before that the slaughter of his children on Williamsburg Bridge, for all that he’d seen other parts of the Battle of Manhattan long before it came to pass, and glimpses of New Rome burning as the undead spilled across its streets – something he wished he’d remembered seeing when mortal, facing down the possibility of Tarquin) – but one way or another, the lack was significant.

He nodded back at Hades.  The known risks of not helping Bob escape far outweighed the known risks of helping – only one decision did not invite their kind-hearted sons to seek Bob out themselves, something that neither he nor Hades wanted, and Bob seemed likewise dismayed at the prospect of.  They were odds he was willing to take.

“Very well,” Hades agreed, looking directly at the imprisoned titan.  “Those terms are acceptable.”  He placed a hand once again on the wall between them, and began to shimmer the purple darkness of his essence, now streaked through with a light Apollo had not seen until Alcyoneus.  “Apollo.”  The order was clear, and Apollo stepped forwards, pressing his own hand to the brass structure.  His own essence reached out cautiously, feeling the threatening tendrils of Tartarus rebelling against his existence.

The lighter streaks of Hades’ essence called to his, and Apollo carefully let his own answer, reaching out and intertwining gently with his uncle’s.  It wasn’t quite mindreading, but it immediately gave him the sense of what Hades was doing, the way his power wasn’t assaulting the blockage directly but instead seeking the seams surrounding it and prying them open with far more finesse than a brute force attack could ever achieve.

One god’s raw power wasn’t enough to get through the prison walls – of course it wasn’t, otherwise more powerful inmates including the titans would have been able to break out whenever they chose – but with two combined, the brass began to buckle under the combined assault.

Apollo pushed harder, prying at the stress fractures that were beginning to open under the onslaught of two Olympians at near full power and widening them, delving as far in as he dared with his uncle by his side as they found the weakest point and wrenched it apart.

With a spark that turned into a boom, exploding outwards and punching through Apollo’s exposed essence viciously enough to leave him winded, the brass gave way, a gaping yawn in the material wide enough for Bob to push his way out, which was exactly what the titan did.

“Thank you,” he said.  Apollo gave him a small grin as he pulled himself back together again, seeing Hades similarly regathering the tendrils of his essence and standing tall.

“No problem,” he replied.  “Now how about we leave?”

Beneath their feet, the prison moved, shaking like an earthquake.  The walls of the prison were sturdy, too sturdy to be brought down by simply moving earth, but there could be no way the timing was a coincidence.

“Come.”  Hades gripped his forearm tightly, and extended a hand towards Bob, fixing him with an expectant look.  The titan hesitated, clearly and admittedly understandably not fully trusting Hades’ motives, and the god clicked his tongue impatiently.  “Unless you want to sneak past the guard yourself-”

Apollo’s consciousness was suddenly yanked in half, sudden and harsh enough that the part of it that remained in Tartarus missed the rest of Hades’ argument why Bob should concede to shadow travel.  He knew the feeling of being in two places simultaneously instantly, and he also knew what seeing elsewhere and potentially elsewhen felt like, but he had hardly been prepared for it at that moment, when the rush of darkness and power and fear screamed that if they didn’t leave immediately something was about to go very wrong.

The sight of his two sons mollified him somewhat – how could it not, for all that the timing of this vision was absolutely terrible.  Will looked better; far more awake and aware, although he was still sitting shoulder to shoulder with Nico on the floor by the bed.  Nico, by contrast, looked more tired, as though he’d been using some of his powers since Apollo had last seen them.

Asclepius, much to his concerned surprise, was in conversation with none other than Thanatos, whose dark presence in Nico’s bedroom was wholly unexpected.  The demigods appeared to be more or less ignoring the gods, with Will’s periodic glances up – a little wary, but Apollo couldn’t blame him when part of being a healer was keeping Death at bay, for all that it was truly in the hands of the Fates – the only real acknowledgement of their presence.

It was a peaceful scene, a sharp contrast to the sharp disagreement his Tartarus-inhabiting consciousness was hearing between a god and a titan who seemed to prefer the idea of fighting his way out to letting Hades take him anywhere through the shadows, although Apollo could admit Bob had a point and that the possibility of Hades losing control of shadow travel if Tartarus decided to intervene wasn’t zero – not that Hades was willing to admit as such.  However, like his uncle, Apollo would also still rather take the shadow travel risk than fight Kampê.

Up in the Underworld, Thanatos tensed, his large wings flaring out and almost taking up the entire room.  Will ducked, startled, as the iridescent black feathers narrowly missed the top of his head, but Nico stayed stock still, eyes narrowed as though something was suddenly bothering him.  Asclepius was surveying the god of death with some degree of alarm – a feeling Apollo had to admit he was sharing.

“What’s wrong?” Will was the one to ask it, looking at his boyfriend with occasional concerned glances at the wings brushing the air above his head.  “Is something-?”

“Something’s… not right,” Nico murmured, his voice shaking slightly.  “I don’t-  This feels like-”

“Lord Thanatos?” Asclepius ventured, drawing Apollo’s attention back towards the gods in the room.  “What happened?”

The Chthonic god shook his head, hand twitching.  Immediately, the large scythe materialised, taller than Will, who understandably skittered a little further away from the god, although not so far he was out of contact with Nico, who seemed to be gaining more and more comprehension – and fear – by the moment.  It looked a wicked weapon, Stygian Iron for the reaping of reluctant souls, and in Thanatos’ grip it was clearly a familiar weapon, for all that Apollo had rarely seen it used for more than brushing souls.

“I…” he began, before his dark eyes fixed Asclepius firmly.  “Protect the demigods.”

“From what?” Will demanded, one arm winding tightly around Nico’s shoulders as the son of Hades trembled.  “What’s going on?”

For all his earlier unease around the god of death, Apollo’s demigod son didn’t falter as Thanatos turned to face him, his wings barely missing the demigods with the action.

“Nico,” the god said.  “He will not reach this far.”

“I know,” the quivering teen said.  “I know.  But…”

“What’s going on?” Will demanded.  Apollo dearly wanted to know that, too – the Underworld was supposed to be safe, what was scaring Thanatos?  The god of death was clearly frightened, but there was very little that death would fear.

In Tartarus, the ground quivered again, and Apollo ducked as a whip cracked, its tip smashing into the side of the corridor.  Hades let go of his forearm, growling curses in languages long forgotten by mortals as his sword leapt into his hand, and beside him, a long, silver spear materialised into Bob’s hand.

“She would never have let us escape, shadows or not,” the titan said, and Kampê cackled.

“Escape, Iapetus?  Godlings?  Escape doesn’t exist.”

“I have to go,” Thanatos said.  “He has stirred.  He is angry.”  There was a tightness to his face, fear so blatant Apollo could see that even Will could parse it as blue eyes widened.

“He..?  Is that..?”

Apollo raised his bow, a whole brace of arrows nocked, and let them fly.  Kampê was like Python, her body ever-changing, but the transformations appeared limited to her waist.  The rest of her body seemed to be more or less stable in appearance, although no less dangerous for it as she charged forwards, her whip slashing half of the arrows out of the air before they could make contact.

“Nice try, godling,” she rasped, snakes hissing derisively at him.  Apollo stamped down the queasiness that facing down aggressive snakes provoked and ducked down as the whip once again lashed past him.  Black armour over the robes of the damned stepped in front of him, as Hades gripped his sword with two hands and brought it down.

“Not the Lord above,” Thanatos told Will.  “You are safe, here.”  Will didn’t look convinced, not that Apollo could blame him.

“Then…  Who?”

“I must go,” the god said.  “Remain as you were.  Nico, if you could get word to the Lady Artemis-”

Apollo jolted in shock and failed to dodge the next lash of Kampê’s whip, which bit into his shoulder deeply, drawing a flood of ichor.

“Focus!” Hades snapped at him, which Apollo dearly wished he could do, but the Fates hadn’t freed him from the vision and he stumbled again.  Artemis had nothing to do with any of this – and how was Nico contacting her from the Underworld?

“I’ll try,” Nico replied, resting his head on Will’s shoulder, who was looking increasingly upset at being left out of the loop.  Asclepius didn’t look much more informed.

“Lord Thanatos, where are you going?  What is happening?”

“It would seem that I must go,” the Chthonic god said, before disappearing in a swirl of shadows and darkness.  “Tartarus rises.”

Will’s panicked yelp of “what?” was the last thing Apollo heard before the vision faded and his consciousness fully reconciled in Tartarus, and it resonated clearly through his essence.

What, indeed.

His back was to the remains of the wall that had shut Bob in.  In front of him, darkness and silver blazed as Hades and Bob pushed back at Kampê.  Ichor flowed down his arm, and Apollo covered it with a hand, willing his form back together again so he could once more use his bow.

The ground beneath them continued to quake, but it was a long, steady rumble rather than an unpredictable creation of Poseidon’s.  This shouldn’t be enough to be felt in the Underworld, surely?  Even if Thanatos was attuned enough to sense Tartarus’ shift in moods, Nico shouldn’t be able to sense a disruption like this.  That would be well beyond a demigod’s abilities, even one who had met Tartarus.

The – badly timed – vision left Apollo with more questions than answers, which wasn’t unusual but was thoroughly inconvenient when it had occurred simultaneously with the start of a battle in an enclosed space and a new ally that neither he nor Hades knew how to fight alongside.  Thanatos was right; the demigods should be safe inside the Underworld, but that didn’t stop the what if beginning to niggle in the back of Apollo’s mind – which certainly wasn’t useful when he was supposed to be fighting.

Shoulder re-sealed enough to use, Apollo willed more arrows into existence, ready nocked to fire, and at the moment his uncle disappeared from view, the Helm activating, he drew back and released.  Bob lunged forwards with his spear the moment the arrows passed him, and ichor splashed onto brass flooring and walls as the missiles this time found their marks.

Kampê laughed, seemingly unconcerned by her new status as a pincushion, and Apollo shrank rapidly as her scorpion tail arched over her back and dove down towards him, dodging to the side before the venomous stinger collided with the brass of the wall behind where he’d been stood.  It bubbled and hissed where it connected, large dollops of venom splashing down and forcing Apollo to dodge further away.

He had heard the stories of what that venom could do, and had no wish to be paralysed for any length of time.

A gash opened up in the tail, near the stinger, and Kampê flicked it around irritably as her whip wrapped around Bob’s spear and pulled.  The titan resisted for a moment, digging his heels in as best he could, before surrendering his weapon.  It thrust past the monster, Kampê far too intelligent to impale herself upon a captured weapon, but that didn’t stop Bob from charging forwards with his bare hands, grasping at one of the heads that had spouted from her waist and yanking it out from the roiling mess of transformations.

That earned him a furious yell, and suddenly there were two scimitars in her hands, glowing a sickly green and flashing out in slashes the mortal eye would never be able to follow.  Apollo fired an arrow at one of them, the momentum pushing it back a fraction, while the second stopped with the unmistakable clang of metal against metal, despite the fact that there was nothing to be seen.

Bob took the split second it afforded him to duck down and summon his spear back into his hand, spinning it like a staff and pushing Kampê back a step.  She was forced to step up, reminding Apollo that they were at the base of twelve steps.

Archers were not supposed to take the low ground.  They could, if they had to, but when the high ground was right there and being held by their opponent instead… it was inconvenient.

Apollo couldn’t see where Hades was, although the periodic opening of new ichor-dripping wounds in Kampê’s carapace and flesh with no visible cause was a sure indication that his uncle was in close combat with the monster.  Bob was a vibrant sight of flashing silver, tinted green by the glow of Kampê’s weapons but bright nonetheless.  Neither of them seemed to be making any significant progress against her, although they seemed to be holding their ground well enough – the Helm made Hades intangible, and what few specks of gold fell from the otherwise silver titan didn’t appear to bother Bob in the slightest – and Apollo knew he had to find a way to tip the balance.

He darted to one side as the stinger of her tail lashed down again, haphazard in a way that suggested her target was the invisible, mostly indetectable Hades rather than Apollo himself, then dodged back the other way, shrinking down enough to be hopefully negligible in Kampê’s attention compared to the two melee fighters facing her.  Then he ran.

Were he still Lester, he would still have done exactly the same thing, but with a mortal constitution and reflexes it inevitably would have gone far worse.  Apollo zig-zagged around her legs as they started to stamp, the monster realising where he’d gone but unable to pin him down at his current size, and was forced to leap over more than one sudden injection of venom as her stinger awkwardly caught the ground.

It was, he thought idly as he ducked and dodged, likely similar to the scene John had envisaged as he wrote Samwise attempting to evade Shelob’s own many legs and stinger.  If nothing else, it was highly reminiscent of Peter Jackson’s cinematic interpretation.

Apollo had never really wanted to play the role of Samwise – Legolas, on the other hand…

He threw himself into a forward roll, momentum and the godly ability to defy at least some logic allowing him to roll up the steps and past Kampê’s monstrous derriere, to say nothing of the vicious stinger which promptly tried to spear him, and came to a stop only once he was at the top of the steps, down on one knee with several arrows nocked as he returned to a more battle-worthy size.

Then, he let the arrows fly.

Kampê snarled, but while she no doubt could ordinarily turn in the corridor to pursue him, Hades and Bob kept her front end occupied with invisible slashes and vicious thrusts, leaving the monster now sandwiched between two fronts.  On the down side, that left Apollo with her tail to contend with as it lashed out behind her, and he was forced to back away further as she began to slowly retreat from the onslaught of Hades and Bob, clearly for reasons that had nothing to do with escape and everything to do with continually getting her tail in range of striking Apollo.

Apollo had no intentions of being struck by her tail.  Unfortunately, despite its various cuts from Hades’ attacks, it still appeared to be fully functional and showed no signs of weakening its attacks.  Perhaps Ares would be able to sever the limb in a single stroke, but Apollo was not Ares (nor did he have any desire to be), and no amount of arrows, even fired by a god of archery, were going to detach it from the rest of the body – and certainly not before Kampê managed to land a hit with it.

So he was going to have to get creative.

During her invasion to Camp Half Blood, she had been crushed to death, Apollo recalled hearing – he had not been there, had not seen it, had not been able to do anything to help the demigods in that battle, and more than one demigod had paid the price, Lee chief among them.  Given the strength it had taken for he and Hades to pry open enough of the prison that Bob could leave his cell, it seemed foolish to even try and collapse the brass ceiling.  Kampê would need to be fully distracted, and it would take likely all three of them to do the collapsing in the first place.  No, that wouldn’t work.

He dodged the stinger again, and caught sight of one of the scimitars nicking Bob, who let out a bark of pain, stumbling back a single step.  The invisible force that was Hades stopped the next swing of the sword, buying the titan time to re-seal his wound and stagger upright again, traces of agony showing in the twisted lines of his face.

Poison, Apollo realised, firing off another handful of arrows.  Most were deflected by either the stinger or a scimitar, but two got through to bury in her back, to her furious hiss.

Kampê took another step backwards, forcing Apollo to edge further away again.  She was almost to the top of the steps, now, and Apollo’s height advantage was lessening rapidly – although so, too, was Kampê’s higher ground advantage over Hades and Bob, so Apollo couldn’t be too upset about the overall effect.

Besides, the sight of her poison had given him an idea.

It was something that would have killed any mortal, even a demigod, if it had made contact, yet while it had clearly hurt Bob considerably, it hadn’t completely incapacitated him.  Perhaps it would’ve been a different story had he been facing the monster alone, but with numbers on their side, they could cover for the other as necessary, buying recovery time (they being mostly Hades and his intangibility; Apollo wasn’t certain why the Helm was finally working against Kampê when neither Orion or Alcyoneus had been unduly bothered by it, but he was certainly not complaining).

It was too much to hope for that Kampê would be vulnerable to her own venoms and poisons – anyone who used such weaponry had either an innate resistance to them, or one built up over time, and Kampê was old enough that even if the former didn’t hold true, the latter certainly would.  Apollo wasn’t going to waste his time trying to get her to nick herself with her own aggression.

That did not, however, mean he hadn’t had what he hoped was a stroke of genius.

He retreated further, buying himself some space away from the stinger, and willed an arrow into existence.  It appeared, identical to the rest of his quiver, but Apollo didn’t immediately nock it to the string.  Instead, he began to chant, keeping his voice low so that Kampê hopefully wouldn’t be able to hear over the sounds of her scimitars ringing against Hades’ sword and Bob’s spear, or her own clawed feet skittering across the smooth, loud brass surface beneath them.

The last time he had attempted this, he had been a desperate mortal with no way of knowing what he was summoning – if, indeed, he could summon anything at all – and a newly-discovered agitated talking arrow trying to pretend it knew more than it did about enchanting arrows.  He almost faltered at the thought of the Arrow of Dodona, and how it had gone from an irritating nuisance to a loyal friend and confidant, before sacrificing itself to help fell Kampê’s own brother, but pushed on.

If plaguey, plaguey, plaguey slipped into the closing stanza of the chant then, well, so be it.

Plagues and illnesses were devastating forces of nature.  Apollo’s duty was to keep them under control, by allocating when and where they occurred – much to the ongoing disgust of the nosoi, who wanted to rampage unchecked – and he knew all the strains of disease that could infect mortals intimately well.  How could he not?

He also knew how devastating the right one could be – or wrong, depending on perspective. Mama Kokohad been furious with him when the Conquistadores invaded South American in the fifteen hundreds, by the Gregorian reckoning and the strain of smallpox that Apollo had been tickling the Spanish with for centuries made the jump from a society that was used to it to one that had never been exposed to anything of the sort before.  Ares had been, too, although his reasoning had been less to do with the population decimation and more to do with how it had weakened the Andean peoples so far that they could hardly fight back.

Even Apollo had been horrified at how viciously it had decimated the various peoples of South America and wiped so much of their civilisation from existence in only a few short years, and he had inflicted many deadly plagues upon the European civilisations across the millennia.

Monsters did not get illnesses the same way mortals did.  Nor did gods, nor any immortals.  Their constitutions were too fundamentally different for that.

But if an animated colossus could catch a hay fever conjured by a pathetic mortal version of himself, then Apollo saw no reason why Kampê could not catch something rather more debilitating crafted by the god of plague at near full strength.

Unlike most of his domains, plague had not wavered at all in the depths of Tartarus.  It did not need the sunlight to grow, did not stem from lightness and love, but rather the darkness of the damp shadows where the light dared not touch.

The Pit fit the requirements perfectly, and where Apollo had noticed effort in maintaining his light, in healing, in music and even materialising his own arrows, it was a lack of effort he noticed as a sickly green haze began to envelop the golden arrow.  The very worst things mortals could imagine in a disease bloomed and entwined effortlessly around the arrowhead, sinking in until the metal itself took on a sickly sheen, no longer shining as brightly as its fellows.

Apollo did not know if it would affect Kampê, but he knew he had to try.

The miasma given off by the arrow did not quite rival the general miasma of Tartarus, but it was pungent in its own way, offensive to olfactory systems in a fashion that would have had Lester’s eyes streaming with tears and nose running with a disgusting flow of mucus.  It had no such effect on Apollo, but he was still conscious that this thing he had created from and with the dank, disease-provoking aura of Tartarus was not something he wanted to accidentally inflict upon himself, and kept it carefully pointed away from his form as he finally nocked it.

Kampê’s stinger smashed into the wall next to him, and Apollo leaped up, landing on her scorpion tail lightly before running down the segmented limb – now far more like Legolas than Samwise.  She thrashed and did her best to turn, but Hades and Bob continued to hamper her, keeping both her vicious scimitars away from Apollo’s advance along her scaled back.

The snakes hissed at him, lashing out from her scalp as her waist deformed, melting and bubbling together until a single, large serpent erupted from what would have been the small of her back if she had the anatomy of a human, heading straight for Apollo.

“Bob!” Hades’ disembodied voice barked, all the warning either Apollo or the titan got before the serpent head with long, no doubt paralytically venomous fangs separated from the rest of its hastily created body, rolling harmlessly down Kampê’s flank to land on the brass floor.  In his periphery, Apollo caught sight of silver flashing faster as Bob engaged both of Kampê’s scimitars at once, the reach of his spear enough to keep both her hands occupied.

Hades flickered into view beside Apollo, his deep black sword dripping with ichor and venom combined.

“Will that work?” he demanded.  He didn’t ask what it was, but given he had more than once amused himself by startling Apollo into inflicting a pandemic on the wrong city, there was no way he didn’t recognise a plague arrow.

Apollo shot him a grin.  “Only one way to find out.”

He leapt forwards, over the writhing mass that was Kampê’s waist, and found purchase on her powerful back muscles, feet morphing into satyr hooves to better find balance on the near-vertical surface.  Behind and below him, he heard the swing of a sword and the tell-tale sound of several unpleasant things being decapitated.

Kampê writhed, shaking her body from side to side as much as she could whilst still fending off Bob’s attacks – or more accurately, trying and failing to disengage with the titan so that she could turn all of her offensive strength onto Apollo.  Her serpentine hair lashed out at him, but Apollo forced himself to stay still, keeping his balance despite her best efforts through a combination of satyr hooves, the beautiful skill of a horseback archer to adapt to movements beneath their body, and pure godly intent.

He had done something similar four and a half millennia ago, perched on the back of a writhing, ever-transforming creature with a single arrow nocked and the knowledge that if this didn’t work, things were going to go very, very badly wrong.

It hadn’t worked back then, and Python had very, very nearly destroyed him before the resulting fight was finally over.  With that nugget of unwelcome memory in the back of his mind, Apollo set his sights on the nape of Kampê’s neck, and fired.

Chapter 25>>