[Special] Dreams on the Throne of Bones
After putting away the two-way mirror, Percy lay down to sleep. As he did, he glanced at his brother, who was sleeping quite peacefully; something not very common for them, since as far back as they could remember, they usually suffered from strange dreams or constant nightmares, which was honestly not pleasant at all.
Even so, Percy closed his eyes, replaying what he had talked about with his Aunt Mor, along with the many ideas that continued to circle through his mind. It was not until late into the night that sleep finally began to truly claim him, his eyes closing from the exhaustion of thinking, until he eventually drifted off.
…
Percy opened his eyes and looked around. Dark marble columns rose all around him, accompanied by walls of the same color, finely detailed. The floor beneath his feet was cold, and the ceiling… nonexistent. Above him, there was only what seemed to be an enormous cavern, far too high to make out its end. In that case, having a ceiling was not really necessary, Percy thought every time he saw this place. Yes, because it was not the first time he had been here.
His gaze immediately shifted forward, where a man stood… or something that should have been one. He could only make out a throne made of human bones, while a black, shapeless mist moved slowly around it. An oppressive air emanated from that presence, and an instinctive fear of death ran through every pore of Percy's body. Around him, the surroundings seemed to grow darker and darker, as if the mist itself were shaping the environment, until, once again, it returned to its structured form.
Percy stared at that darkness itself and pressed his lips together firmly, creating an absolute silence. Not a single word or sound left his mouth.
"Why aren't you talking?" a voice echoed, seeming to travel throughout the entire place, as if it came from everywhere at once. Even so, Percy could feel that it originated from the black mist seated upon the throne of bones. "You were very talkative last time," it added.
"Well… I feel like if I say something again, you'll send that big three headed dog after me, so I think I'll stay quiet," Percy replied.
"What did he do?!" another voice rang out suddenly, so loud that it made the surroundings tremble. Both Percy and the formless mist, which now seemed to shift as it turned slightly to the side, looked toward the source of the voice.
Beside the throne of bones stood another throne, smaller and far more comfortable, one Percy had not noticed until now. Sitting upon it was a truly beautiful woman. Her hair carried dark tones, while an intense cold flowed from her voice, accompanied by an aura that seemed to freeze everything, like winter itself. It was strange, considering that her clothing clearly evoked spring. Her face was distinctly authoritative, enough to make Percy close his mouth immediately.
"Speak. What did he do?" the woman asked, staring directly at Percy with her green eyes, meeting his gaze head on.
"Well… uh…" Percy hesitated for a moment. He did not know whether he should say it. The shadow that had once exuded authority and fear now seemed to begin taking on a slightly more human shape, watching him closely, as if trying to communicate through gestures alone. However, without a real face, the attempt was counterproductive. "When I came here before, he got mad at what I said. Then he threw me out, and a huge three headed dog chased me for hours," Percy said all at once.
After all, he had been raised by very strong women, and he knew better than anyone how dangerous it could be to anger one of them.
Like the time he had called Aunt Mor an old witch and ended up hanging upside down from a tree.
Upon hearing this, the woman cast a glacial look toward the shadow. It seemed to freeze completely in place, as if any movement would make it immediately visible.
After a moment of truly uncomfortable silence, the woman let out a quiet snort before turning back toward Percy. Their eyes met again, causing her expression to become slightly conflicted for a brief instant.
"Those eyes… they really are identical," she said, though her tone was far from kind. "I hope you do not grow up to be like him," she added.
She then cast a brief glance toward the shadow on the throne, as if she perfectly understood why it was not pleased to see him there.
"Him?" Percy asked, confused.
The woman did not answer right away. She crossed her legs and continued to observe him closely.
"It is strange that you come here so often, especially you. The other little one makes sense, but you…" she said, as if searching for something around her.
That only made the confusion on Percy's face deepen.
"It does not matter," she said seriously. "Do you have your necklace?" she asked immediately.
"My necklace? Uh…" Percy pulled the pendants from around his neck. In truth, he wore two. One was the necklace he shared with Harry, the one his mother had bought to protect them. The other was the one Aunt Mor had given him, which functioned as a sort of inventory for his swords.
The woman examined both necklaces. First, the protective one, with a calm gaze. Then her expression grew more serious as she focused on the other.
"Ah… now it makes sense," she said, a faint, amused smile forming on her cold, queenly face. It even seemed as though the air around her brightened slightly, accompanied by a soft floral scent drifting through the space. "Her son, bearing another's blessing… he must be quite upset right now," she added.
The shadow seated upon the main throne stopped exuding that oppressive aura and seemed to shift in a different way, as if it were amused, if only slightly.
"Very well. Those will still work, but only for a time. Still, you are fortunate; spring is near, and it is far too early for you to send me an offering," the woman said, what sounded like a hint of excitement slipping into her voice.
"Well then, it is time for you to return," she added, waving her hand before Percy could even begin to ask the many questions crowding his mind.
Suddenly, she vanished before them.
Without warning, the formless shadow began to change, taking on a more human appearance. It now resembled a middle aged man, with pale, almost grayish skin, the kind belonging to someone who never saw the sun. His eyes were dark, so deep it felt as though they could devour everything they looked upon. His hair was long and straight, unkempt, yet in a way that gave him a strangely interesting presence.
What stood out the most, however, was his clothing. Dark in color, as if it absorbed the light itself. If one looked closely, the faint shapes of suffering human faces seemed to form upon the fabric.
The man looked in the woman's direction. Though he appeared calm, it was likely that internally he was anything but. Before he could say anything, her voice sounded first.
"You sent him with Cerberus?" she asked, her tone completely devoid of warmth.
"I was wondering whether my… backside would hurt from sitting on my own throne," the man replied in a severe tone.
She glared at him with a mixture of disgust and irritation before turning away without saying another word. Even so, that silence spoke volumes. She was truly angry, and someone would surely suffer for it.
The man rubbed his temple, feeling a dull headache forming. He had not expected Percy to appear at that exact moment, much less while he was with his wife, and certainly not to hear him recount what had happened previously.
"This is that woman's fault," he muttered irritably, thinking of the goddess of magic. The one who shared such a close connection with his wife and who, without him noticing at first, had begun visiting more frequently than usual, telling her stories about those brats. During some strangely calm moments, they would even sit together to watch certain videos someone had sent them, where the two children seemed to be living through small adventures.
And without realizing it, his wife had grown fond of them.
Perhaps the goddess of magic had planned it all from the beginning. Or perhaps it had simply happened that way. Either way, to him, it was nothing more than a headache.
He also wished she could see her own children that way, but that was difficult. He was not as skilled as the goddess of magic when it came to charming others. That was why he had kidnapped his wife and taken her to the Underworld instead of slowly winning her over. Yes, technically, it had been a kidnapping. Still, to his fortune, it had not all gone badly. Just a few minor mistakes along the way.
"What is so entertaining about those two brats?" he said with mild irritation, though a small spark of interest was beginning to bloom within him. He would also need to allow some time for his wife's anger to cool. "I will see it for myself," he added before walking away.
Yes. It was not that he was a coward or anything like that. He would simply give her the space she needed while he investigated a little.
Exactly. That was all.
…
…
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N/A: hahaha, I like Hades. What do you think about doing specials like this? Or do you not like them? Would you prefer a more serious Hades, or a more henpecked one? He is the only god I genuinely do not dislike as much as the others. And obviously, I mean the gods in general from mythology, not Riordan's. Because in Riordan's books, some of them can be fairly amusing, and not nearly as unpleasant as they tend to be in mythology overall.
Harry did not appear, so the next chapter will be focused solely on him.