alone I lie in my own misfortune

by mrpyromaniac

Summary:

He'd felt hot since the poison.

Since a river of green had turned on its goddess.

Since he felt something break s̶h̶a̶t̶t̶e̶r̶.

Chapter 1: Down under

Perseus felt hot.

 

He'd felt hot since the poison.

Since a river of green had turned on its goddess.

Since he felt something break s̶h̶a̶t̶t̶e̶r̶.

 

The Fates laugh, for how could Perseus control that which is not his?

His smile is painted with gold, and Misery truly feels miserable

 

The domain of Akhlys, of a primordial,

 

a piece of creation itself.

 

There are consequences to such things.

 

The glass ball still lay in pieces, and each shard dug deeper as he carried his beloved through Night and towards the Heart.

What once was whole breaks even more, as he exerts his will over chthonic water, bending it as if he were born of the five rivers.

 

People forget that it was once his Father who ruled the underworld, who thundered across the sea ferrying souls.

 

Perseus' eyes glowed a sickly green as he popped the veins of both monsters and the Pit.

Tartarus stared across the field at Perseus, unfazed as Damasen delivered the equivalent of papercuts.

The primordial of the Pit was impressed. He knew the consequences of a mortal controlling a domain held by a being born of Chaos and Night.

 

The action should have crippled Perseus, made his skin smoke and eyes melt as his mortal form broke under the power of an Elder God.

 

Tartarus looked closer, deeper, and rumbled with laughter.

 

 

 

His chest burned leaving the Pit.

 

Clytius fell.

 

Nike conceded.

 

Polybotes' throne was split in two.

 

The fire in his chest grew.

 

 

 

When Gaea met Perseus fully awakened, she understood the mistake of playing him like a pawn. He was uncontrollable.

 

The Mycenaeans didn't worship the Earth.

 

The fire never left Perseus.

 

It only grew hotter as time went on.

 

At the funerals, each pyre up in flames felt like drinking a gallon of Phlegethon, fueled by the drachmas placed in mouths,

by belief

by worship.

Perseus swore he could hear muted whispers, barely distinguishable from the wind.

 

Dionysus stared at him with swirling purple eyes whenever he walked by.

He felt His Divine Might,

smelled sickly sweet grapes,

heard distant screams of insanity.

Perseus' throat became parched and his eyes watered.

It was almost as if the god couldn't be bothered to restrain his divinity more than he had to.

 

I̶f̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶e̶v̶e̶n̶ ̶n̶e̶e̶d̶e̶d̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶a̶l̶l̶

 

The Romans respected him.

They built him a shrine, for how can a simple mortal defeat the Earth itself?

 

The Greeks feared him

Campers who once found him approachable now saw him as something else.

Something otherworldly,

 

powerful,

 

divine.

 

As the days continued, the whispers grew clearer, louder. Smoke entered his lungs and fueled the fire.

Sometimes, he could make out the whispers, a cacophony of unclaimed pleas and sacrifice.

 

pleasehelphurtithurtsipromisepromisepromiseforyouinyournamewebelievebelievelittleprincelittlelordpowerfulsodivineyousavedusSAVEDUS

 

 

He became stronger. Monsters rarely attacked him in the Mortal world.

When they did, all it took was a snap and they no longer existed.

He kept this from Annabeth, for how could she understand the absolute power he had over these creatures? It didn't matter if he controlled their blood; either way, they would die,

 

It was inevitable.

 

 

 

 

 

Time went on.

 

The flame grew hotter.

 

One day

 

 

It happened.

 

A sacrifice born of pure and eternal love.

 

How could a mother not notice her son's changes, whose presence gave her a headache and made her eyes water? Sally Jackson was a smart woman, and she saw what others failed to see.

 

She could see how his eyes glowed, how his form wavered as if barely contained within his mortal shell.

 

Sally Jackson did what Thetis failed to do. 

After all, what is imperfect invulnerability in the face of godhood? After all, it only took a single arrow guided by Apollo's hand.

 

Blue chocolate chip cookies placed over a fire on a stormy day, a woman kneeling in front of the plate, a whispered prayer of love for her son who never received his only wish.

 

The Wanax finally has an heir.

 

As His red-gold blood turned to molten ichor and the agony in his chest subsided, Perseus mourned his mortal life.

 

For as Tartarus laughed about it in the Pit, and Dionysus sympathized from afar,

 

Perseus never got the happy ending of His namesake.

 

He never received an ending at all.

 

Chapter 2: Up above

Summary:

“The fiercest anger of all, the most incurable, is that which rages in the place of dearest love.” - Euripedes, Medea

Mortals might be considered ignorant to the Divine World, but they are still subject to the whims of their unknown rulers and they notice.

 

Divinity, that which oozes from Their pores and shrouds Them in everlastingperfectholy light-

Something that bends the fabric of existence. 

 

 

 

 

 

Gaia was no more. An antithesis to the Olympians' mind, for how could they expect her to be killed, rather than be forced back into slumber? She is, after all, the Earth itself.

 

 

 

Poseidon knew, as he looked at the boyManGOD with toobright eyes and Hedefinitelysawfangs a presence seperate from His own power, older (The Fates laugh! Oh, how they laugh!)

 

Who was Gaia to the Myceaneans when all they knew was HIM AND HISPosidaeia

 

 

 

He knows Perseus is mad, mad at His ascendance, mad at his lack of a happy ending promised through his namesake

 

mad that it felt like this new power was His by birth 

 

And He realized before the others, it was only a matter of time till Perseus acted on that feeling of power, of Divine Right

 

Poseidon knew he had nothing to fear from His son not quite!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some time later, it happened. The anticipation hung like a noose around the Olympians for years, but when they finally saw it for what it was, it was far too late.

 

As Perseus left the apartment of His Mother with sorrow in His heart for what He had to do, He knew that this semblance of normalcy He maintained was no longer feasible.

 

How could it be further contained when the world itself bent to His presence when the sun rose for Him when the ground reached up with each step

 

For the first time since leaving Tártaros he exhaled

He let go of his sorrow, for mercy upon thyself is not earned by these false rulers gods

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Perseus stepped onto the scorched earth of the Acropolis, and the sky recoiled

 

Each whisper fedintohim

 

each intake of smoke prayer a reminder that he had cast off mortality, tore it away with His own will, yet nourished by sacrifice

 

He breathed salt and brimstone and bitterness.

 

 

Mortals might be considered ignorant to the Divine World, but they had always seen subconsciouly

They saw the skies light up, the seas turn over, the earth tremble

 

 

They felt the shift.

 

 

 

The gods gathered on marble terraces before Perseus

“Submit,” they commanded, soulless, vacant justliketheirpromises

 

 

A fragment of the boy who once saved Olympus remained,

 

Unfortunately, that fragment belonged to His Mother, for that's all He could allow, a gift returned from a blessing once received.

 

 

With a gesture, Zeus's imperfect dull masterbolt shattered and he laughed at this pretense of a king, thisIMPOSTER

 

 

VAPID WEAK DIWO HE ROARED

 

Athena’s defense crumbled against Perseus' power, plans cracked like dry clay

 

Hades' shadows did nothing against the son of the Wanax

Despoina looked away

 

Ares was crushed like a bug

 

And Poseidon-

O' Poseidon, O' Posaedo, O' Posedawone

 

You were once Lord of All

 

Your own form rejects your weakness now...

Your lovers call to you...

(oh fierce Damate, oh sweet Posedeia)

 

You are NOTHING 

 

You are everything

 

 

 

if only you go BACK

 

 

The next moment

 

HE resurfaced

 

(how could He not for His son, his sweet, sweet monster god-boy)

 

 

The world bent towards its King

 

His Presence, His Pressure, His Divinity forced the remaining Olympians to their knees

 

weaknewpunygods

 

He Spoke

 

BEHOLD YOUR RECKONING

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“You blame my temper but you do not see your own that lives within you; so you chide me instead.”

- Oedipus, Sophocles

 

 

Notes:

Almost a year! Might be a slight style change, just kind of wrote it on a random spark

Notes:

Title - Sophocles, Trachiniae