Chapter 1: In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas corpora
Chapter Text
Perseus.
His name is Perseus. That’s a fact.
How many facts does he know?
He knows his name. He knows how he looks. Then again, that may not be right. He knows he should have short black hair, but, other than the length of the hair that he can feel with his fingertips, he doesn’t know if that’s correct.
So, one fact. One fact on who he is.
In contrast, there are many questions.
One appears to be of utmost importance; where is he?
He feels something familiar around him, but not quite touching him. He feels himself rock to the side with the movement of the floor. Perseus attempts to stand, but he feels his left leg crumble under his own weight. Back on the floor, Perseus raises his pants to allow himself to look at his leg.
It’s grotesque. He doesn’t know how to describe it otherwise. His leg has different layers of color adorning it, all of which seem to be devoid of a natural color. The majority of his skin looks like a dirty beet—as if the layers of his skin are coming off. Below the layers of the beet, his skin takes the reddish color he has only seen within his body. It comes in flakes, with its disappearance revealing a large laceration. While the wound seems to be partially healed, as the color isn’t seeping into the ground, it lacks the ability to support Perseus’ movement.
Perseus uses the walls to lean on, attempting to get enough strength to move towards a door at the other end of the room. The rocking of the room worsens his ability to support himself, but, due to the clutter filling the room, he is able to catch himself.
He limps at a snail's pace towards the door, failing near every step. As he reaches the door, only just over an arm’s reach away, he falls to the side, hitting the ground with a thud.
“Who’s there?” A man shouts with a heavy accent from outside the door. Perseus is unsure how to respond. He knows his name, but he doesn’t feel he would be able to respond with a defense to what he was doing there.
“Open the door, or I’m coming in.” A bang is heard on the door after the first clause, making Perseus fall from his side onto his back. With his legs faced towards the door, Perseus looks upwards at the opening door.
The door opens. The man—although he doesn’t look like much of one—, now occupying the narrow opening left by the door, looks down at Perseus. “I am Elpenor.” Perseus looks at his face, taking note of his boyish appearance. Elpenor’s voice seems to be quiet, although not lacking in steadiness. Perseus attempts to rise to Elpenor’s height, shifting weight to his right leg.
“I—“ Elpenor attempts to continue the conversation but interrupts himself when he catches sight of the unnatural appearance of the skin on Perseus’ feet. “I should get you help.” Elpenor’s voice speeds up, his sentences jumping out of his mouth.
Perseus does not respond. Now, as he is standing on one foot, he places the other behind him. He puts his arm on the wall to stabilize himself, and continues to stare at Elpenor's face. His youth is beginning to show, as his uncertainty is clear. His eyes jump between Perseus’ face and feet, and is unsure which requires the most attention.
“I’ll get help.” Elpenor’s sounds have quieted down to just above a whisper. He seems to be looking for some kind of sign from the other man in agreement, but Perseus continued to stare at him. Due to this silence, Perseus decided to look the man up and down.
Elpenor was not an exceptional man. In fact, he seemed to be rather ordinary. His hair was dark—although the lightning was not helping to distinguish the color—and his clothes were plain. He wore a tunic, which was unevenly dyed a green color, with some brown seeping through spots. He lacked the pants that Perseus had on, instead, his legs were exposed to the cold in the room, and his feet were covered by a sandal, which seemed to be too big on his feet.
Elpenor had not yet gotten help. Instead, he was examining Perseus as well. Perseus is sure he found something of note, but he cannot tell what it was. Perseus attempts to take a step back, but accidentally shifts his weight on his left foot. He stumbles, catching himself on a stack of boxes nearby.
The man quickly leaves with a purpose, likely in search of someone better equipped to handle the situation. With the door left open, Perseus limps over, grabbing the two sides of the door frame for extra stability. Above him, he hears the footsteps of multiple men, who are obviously not seeking to conceal their movements. The banging he heard was quite loud, and suddenly seemed to still. While Perseus could only hear slight whispers, he did hear two pairs of footsteps reappear, scurrying away from the previous area.
The whispers begin to grow louder. “You said he was here, correct?” A man spoke with a deep voice.
“I’m certain, he was—“ The second man, Elpenor, had still not found his confidence returning. His voice remained frantic, in search of a better phrase to tell the first man something of great importance. “He was injured, dressed in barbaric clothing, and had the appearance of a man not involved in—“ Perseus didn’t quite catch on to the last word with his phrase. As the two men rounded the corner, the first man stopped in his tracks. Standing across the hall, a distance akin to the length of a table, the man looked at Perseus, and asked him a question.
“What is your name?” Perseus found himself compelled to respond, but he kept his mouth shut and did not reveal the answer.
“What is yours?” Perseus replied instead, as he titlted his head slightly.
“I am Eurylochus of Same.” He took a step closer. “And you?”
Perseus raised his head back to its original height. “I am Perseus.”
“Of?” Eurylochus questions harshly.
“I am Perseus.” He repeats. Perseus is unsure what he would say otherwise. He is unsure of many things related to himself.
“Boy, I do not know who you are. I do not know where you come from. I most certainly do not know your intentions. I expect you to answer who you are and where you are from, or should we find other arrangements?” Eurylochus hisses. He steps, closing the gap between him and Perseus.
“Sir, I only know of my name as Perseus. I know nothing else.” Perseus meets his eyes, staring back.
“Well, Perseus, how do you suppose you came aboard this ship after multiple days on our journey?” Eurylochus questioned, his interrogation growing more tense.
This went on for a while. Perseus, and his lack of knowledge on his situation, and Eurylochus, and his lack of compromise. While Eurylochus remains skeptical, he relents on his investigation.
“I find you to be suited for—“ He eyes Perseus up and down. “Typical labor, but the appearance of your body on your foot is a cause for concern. Should it be contagious, no mercy should be spared towards you. You may work non-physical jobs around the ship that do not involve use of your leg. However, should a punishment be required, it may be necessary.” Eurylochus seemed to have thought of himself a deal that would result in his triumph. He understood the boy as likely to be a slave, a man only fit for labor of low intelligence, especially for his build. Should Perseus mess up, a punishment would be required, but would not be a cause for concern, as it was the agreed upon conditions.
“I am agreeable to these terms, at one condition.” Perseus responds. Having found out that he was now on a ship, he had a specific desire.
“Out with it.”
“I am allowed to have knowledge of our navigation and our travel.” Perseus states.
“For what purpose?” He retorts aggressively.
“I do not know how far I am from home, nor do I know where I belong. I would like to know where we are going.”
“That is acceptable. However, should I find any nefarious plot being set, you are the first to go.” Perseus nodded in understanding.
Eurylochus then eyed him once more, then turned towards Elpenor. He nodded at him, then quickly left.
“Let’s get you to a healer.” He whispers, avoiding eye contact. He helps to support Perseus by taking his arm, and leads him to another area of the ship. As Perseus limps by, he catches the eyes of others working within the vessel. One man in particular, who is of a tall stature and has long blond hair. Catching his eye, the man turns towards him, but Elpenor continues to tug him along.
Perseus keeps his head down for the rest of the trip. He is still unaware where they are going, and where they came from, so, it seemed to be a reasonable time to ask.
“Where are we going?” Elpenor stops in his tracks. He seems to consider not telling him, but decides against it.
“We are going to Aulis.” Perseus looked at Elpenor, trying to understand why the land sounded familiar.
“Why is that our destination?” Perseus has a bad feeling about the place. He isn’t sure if it's due to him having heard the name before, but he knows he wouldn’t be able to leave from there, even if given the chance.
“I–” Elpenor can’t seem to answer the question. Rather, he doesn’t seem to know how. He continues the walk forward, ignoring Perseus’ question.
“Who is it?” A raspy voice shouts from inside a room.
“It’s Elpenor; I have someone who needs help.” Elpenor’s voice trails off again, making it so he whispered all but his first few words.
“What?” The raspy voice shouts again.
“It’s Elpenor.” While confidence is gained in his voice, it is lost immediately after, as he had a voice crack on his own name.
“Ah.” The voice croaks out. “Come in.” As Elpenor opens the door, revealing a man positioned in a chair at the corner of the room. Perseus catches the eye of the man in the corner. The man’s eyes narrow as Perseus continues to stare. The tension in the room seems to increase. Perseus does not break eye contact, however, the man ahead does. His eyes travel down to the purple appearing underneath his clothes. The man’s eyes travel back up, meeting his once again. “Who is this?”
“This is Perseus.” The man’s eyes widen upon hearing the name.
“I will not treat a man who bears the same name as the son of the man who does not favor our cause.” The man barks sharply. “I mustn’t treat a man who will bring misfortune to us. I find little hope in the skies if we attempt to impersonate the great son of it.”
Perseus stares at the man in confusion. “Who am I impersonating?” Perseus’ voice was quiet, conveying confusion.
“Do you not know the history of your name?” Elpenor is surprised with the development. “Have you not been punished for using your name with no compensation to the original?” Elpenor’s voice trails off–again–but his eyes travel back to Perseus’ foot, letting himself answer his own question.
“I–” Perseus feels the two eyes in the room bore into him. “I am not aware of what you mean.”
“You will not be named Perseus on this ship. I will not allow it.” Perseus continues to stare at the man. “I don’t care what you call yourself, but you will not sully our odds because you want to have a name associated with the greats.” Perseus continues to stare.
“What should I go by?” Perseus questions, unsure of himself.
“Is there anyone you could borrow the name of?” The man shoots out, attempting to find a solution quickly.
“I know nothing of who I am, can I not keep part of my name?” Perseus bargains, attempting to keep some of the identity he knows.
“If you can find a way to keep your name while erasing the connection between yourself and the sky.” The man retorts.
“I can shorten it. Is that acceptable?” Perseus responds. While he knows that his name will still be seen within the shortened version, however, he is not sure if the change would be enough for the man. “I will call myself Percy, is that enough?” Perseus continues to grow agitated, although for less of needing to change his name, and more for needing to appease the man in front of him.
“I will treat you, but, should I hear someone utter the name Perseus, your treatment will forever be forgotten.” Perseus thinks that his statement sounds much too threatening, however, he knows he can’t challenge it. “I am Machaon.”
Perseus nods his head slightly in acknowledgement. Perseus stares at Machaon, who beckons him forward. He limps towards the other, falling over to the chair. He catches himself with his arm, leaning over Machaon slightly. The fall put some pressure on his leg, resulting in Perseus wincing. He lifts his rotten leg up, letting himself put more weight on to the chair.
“Place your leg over.” Machaon gestures to the arm of the chair. As Perseus brings his leg over, Machoan grabs on to the ankle, and lifts the pant leg upwards.
“Do you have any recollection of why this occurred?” Machaon inspects the leg’s unhuman colors.
“I do not.” Machaon appears to become increasingly frustrated. Having no clue how the wound appeared, and no clue how to make it disappear, he is unsure how to proceed.
“We will clean the wound first.” Machaon rises from his seat, pushing Perseus’ leg to the side. Not caring to look back at the effect the push had on Perseus, he left the room, moving with a clear purpose. When he comes back in, he seems to be holding a cup full of liquid. He dabs a cloth into the liquid, and places it over Perseus’ skin. As he starts dabbing the wound, the color’s hue seems to redden, then lightens, then returns to its normal hue. Upon seeing this color change, Machaon grabs on to the leg harshly, turning it. As it turns side to side, he inspects the leg.
He looks up towards Perseus.
“Who are you?”
Chapter 2: My mind compels me to speak of forms changed into new bodies.
Summary:
Perseus learns of himself.
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
“Who are you?” Machaon repeats.
Perseus doesn’t know. He truly doesn’t. However, he is starting to get some clues about it. Machaon interrupts his thoughts by pushing his leg off the chair. He seems to expect Perseus to fall over, but, as all proceedings have gone lately, Perseus remains upright. “It’s the same as I’ve said before.” Perseus responds unsurely. He seems to be taking Elpenor’s voice quirk, with his voice getting quieter with each word.
“You must know. You cannot be here without knowing.” Machaon stands up, his voice filling the space Perseus’ volume left.
Perseus remains silent.
“You cannot be here. Where is Eurylochus–” He turns towards Elpenor. “He must be made aware of this.” Elpenor appears to be joining Machaon in his dilemma.
“I can find him. If you need.” Elpenor’s eyes dart from Perseus to Machaon.
Machaon nods at Elpenor, and watches as he leaves the room in a hurry. As he leaves, Machaon turns back towards Perseus. “What are you doing here?” It sounds less like a question than his previous. Machaon steps towards Perseus, closing the space between them.
Machaon moves quickly, startling Perseus. He responds by pushing Machaon back. “Sorry, just–” Perseus’ apology is ruined by Machaon coming back and pushing him as well.
“Leave from here. You were injured beyond repair, and, while you may have fixed it, you most certainly have not determined the cause. Should anyone from this ship be injured from your insolence, I will not accept it. You will leave this ship the second we dock, no matter what Eurylochus says.” Machaon seems to get all that he wanted to say out of him, leaving him breathing heavily after yelling.
Perseus remains silent. Instead, he backs up until he’s near the door. Before he can make any attempt to leave, the door opens once again. Perseus whips his head towards the door. At the same time as making eye contact with Eurylochus, he rushes through the door, pushing anyone else aside.
Perseus hears voices behind him, shouting for his return, for him to not continue stepping away, but Perseus ignores it. He gets to another door, which he swings open, resulting in him catching sight of a deck.
Perseus sees a storm overhead. Rain, wind, and large waves were all growing in intensity. While Perseus knew that there was a reason the rest of the men were inside, he also knew he didn’t want to be in there. Thus, he went out into the storm.
He steps out onto the dock. The ship continues to rock side to side. However, with Perseus’ newly healed leg, he isn’t half as affected as he was before. Perseus continues to step out until he is fully surrounded by the storm. He would step out further, but he reaches the end of the deck, letting himself rest on a railing.
As he stares out into the sea, he lets himself close his eyes. His peace is soon interrupted by a lightning strike he hears land behind him. Perseus refuses to let himself jump, as well as refuse to turn towards the sound.
“Hello?” Perseus calls out to someone behind him.
“I thought I rid the sea of someone pretending to be of my blood.” Perseus feels the eyes on his fully healed leg.
“Why would one pretend?” Perseus responds. While he may not know the identity of the man behind him, he feels the essence of the water in front of him, and he feels the same from the man behind him.
“I know who is mine, and I know where they are. I know neither for you. Where do you come from?” The man thunders.
Perseus knows as little as the man behind him does. The man seems to understand his meaning, however, it does little to please his anger. “You must know who I am. Yet, you do not deign me with the proper responses, the proper courtesies, the proper direction, and you attempt to trick me through your essence. Turn towards me.” The man commands.
Perseus obliges. He leans on the railing, and stares up at the man. He feels the man question his previous statements, as his eyes seem to be looking at something he finds familiar. Perseus feels the same familiarity, however, for much different reasons.
Perseus stares at the man in front of him, attempting to understand why he has this feeling. “You must be one of mine.” The man states. He looks at Perseus continuously, eyeing him up and down. “But I do not know you as such.”
“Who are you?” For once, it is Perseus asking the question.
The man does not respond immediately. He stares back at Perseus. “I am the god Poseidon.”
Perseus does not know how to respond. He chooses to keep his thoughts to himself, not trying to annoy the man through his lack of knowledge.
“You do not know from who you came from?” The god Poseidon says in disbelief. “Surely you must. No man, especially none that grew amongst the life of the sea, would be so ignorant.” The god closes the gap between the two of them.
Perseus isn’t quite sure what came over him. Well, that wouldn’t be accurate to say. He knows, but he would have much preferred himself not to have done it. “I apologize for my supposed transgressions, but you must understand my perspective.” Perseus takes a deep breath. “A man, who I believe to be wearing an appearance similar to mine, is claiming that I must be impersonating someone. Now, to me, I can’t understand who I would attempt to be. Pray tell, why should I find myself abhorred with the thought that I do not know who you are?”
“Bite your tongue before you continue to speak, boy.” The god seems to take offense to what Perseus had just rambled on about. “Do not bite your thumb at me, nor should you share your unwarranted hatred towards a man that, should he find himself keen to the action, could eradicate you with a snap.” Poseidon underscored his speech with a physical snap.
“With all due respect, you find yourself comparing me to you, but, yet, within the same breath you emphasize my place beneath you. I do not feel remorse for the lack of my tongue biting, but that does not mean my thumb is used as a replacement.”
Perseus hopes he’ll accidentally bite his tongue while talking instead.
Instead, he continues his speech. “Tell me the purpose of your visit. I have no qualms directed towards you, nor should you have any towards me. If you tell me what I must do, I may oblige, but I cannot do so while you ramble on about my misgivings. Say what you mean.”
Poseidon waits before responding. Whether it be to give himself time to suppress his rage, or if it was in an attempt to divine the purpose before attempting to share it with him, Perseus was grateful for the rest. “I will forgive your lack of decorum, if for nothing but the excuse of ignorance.” Poseidon takes a deep breath. “However, this will not be accepted amongst the Divine of the Pantheon. I implore you to address those above you with their proper title. Should you not know their name, Lord or Lady should suffice. You must address me as either my proper titles, or father.”
Poseidon stops speaking. He seemed to be showing much restraint, with his body not moving, not even to respire.
“No son of mine will be seen as a bastard. You will pay no matter to the circumstances surrounding your birth, nor will you allow men to question you on the validity of your claims. You are above them, you are my son. A challenge to your character and courage is an insult to my name. I expect you to surmount these claims. Should your endeavors result in disappointment on my name, I will remedy the situation. Is that understood?”
Perseus nods. “Words, boy.” Poseidon spits out.
He isn’t sure why, but he hates it when the god calls him by that name. Despite his disgust, he still responds to the man as he requested. “Yes, father. However, my name is Perseus. If I must be courteous with you, I won’t respond unless you show the same sentiment.”
Poseidon must be infuriated. Perseus doesn’t want to confirm the validity of his hypothesis, so he resolves to point his head at the floor instead. “Keep your head above others. I will leave you for now, but, should I find a reason to regret it, I will not be the only one feeling regret. I would fix your leg, but it appears as if you have already done so. Be well, Perseus.” Perseus had not yet raised his head, fortunately, as, emerging from the top of his vision, a bright flash occurred.
Perseus instinctively turned his head to the side, closing his eyes despite the flash having already occurred. He huffed out in annoyance, knowing that he was going to have to keep the god in mind for the future.
He turns around, making his way back to the base of the ship. As he goes to open the door, it swings open. Perseus catches the door before it hits the wall. He turns his head away from the door, facing the man that swung it open.
The man seemed to be surprised as well. He stared into Perseus’ eyes with his own wider than the beam of the ship. Perseus only stands a few inches above him, but, with his need to react to the door swinging open, his arms seem to be blocking the man in front from walking to the bow. He breaks eye contact with Perseus, looking at the sky behind him.
“What–” The man cuts himself off. “Who was here?” Perseus drops his arms, letting the man in front pass by. He looks to where the man is staring, seeing a shimmer falling from the sky. The man holds his hands out, catching the shimmering material, before it fades from view. As the glittering fades from his hands, he whips his head back towards Perseus. “Who did I miss?”
“He called himself Poseidon.” The man’s eyes widened once more upon hearing the name.
“Did you say Poseidon was here? Did he state his purpose?” He steps closer to Perseus, speaking quicker than he had before.
Perseus’ eye’s narrow at the man’s questioning, but, with his father’s words in mind, he begins to speak. “He is my father.”
“We have another half-god on our ship?” The man speaks into the wind, rather than at Perseus.
Perseus doesn’t respond to the question he aimed at nothing. He turned around, letting the man continue to whisper towards the sky. As he turns, he hears something new begin to shuffle behind him. He whips his head around, one of his hands positioning itself in one of his pockets, despite it lacking anything to fight with.
A woman, who’s hair shone akin to the way a spear would during battle, stared down at Perseus. Perseus did not like this turn of events. He moved his mouth to speak, but was quickly cut off by the woman ahead. “Do not speak now, matters more important than you are occurring.” She didn’t turn her head to look at him, nor did she show any care for his presence.
“Athena, my Lady, he claims himself to be the son of Poseidon, does he pose any threat to us?” The man bows his head at the woman, now named Athena. She finally turned to look at Perseus, no longer holding the indifference she had earlier. Rather, a look of disgust entered her face. He returned the appearance, which caused her to turn her head away from him quickly, returning to her position of grace.
“I do not like him, but he poses no threat. Leave him at the next port.” She demanded. THe man had a conflicted appearance. Perseus understands. He wouldn’t want to leave himself at a port either.
“My Lady, I understand your point, but would it not be beneficial to have another half-god with us as we fight in this war?” He questioned, which she scoffed at.
“I know his kind, they may pose no threat now, but he has no knowledge of fighting, and he would be more of a hindrance than a help. Leave him.” The man’s expression changes to resign. Before he can speak, Perseus interjects.
“I’ll have you know, I’ve used a sword plenty. Do not discredit me simply because you have not seen it. Leave me at the port if you wish, but do not insult who I am.” Perseus snaps at Athena and the man.
“Mind your words–” Athena said, which was quickly interrupted by the man’s words. “I mean no disrespect.” He bows his head to him.
Athena scoffs yet again. “If you do not leave him at the port, I will believe you have found yourself too wise for my advice. You chose what you prefer.” She leaves before the man can speak another word in reply.
“Hello, I am Odysseus, the captain of this ship. As you heard, you will not have to know me for long, but please notify me of anything you may require while you embark with us.” He places his hand over his heart, and bows. Perseus takes his hand off of his chest, and grabs it instead. Odysseus looks up at Perseus.
“I am Perseus. For now, you find yourself in charge of me. Do not pay respects to those who are meant to help you.” He shakes Odysseus’ hand, then lets it go, leaving Odysseus’ hand hanging in between the two of them.
Odysseus lets out a boisterous laugh, then states, “I think these next few days will be good, Perseus. Have you been presented to the people of the crew yet?”
Perseus is the one to laugh this time. “Not quite yet, I’m sure this will be the way you chose to help me?”
“Of course. Follow me, Perseus.” Odysseus smiles at Perseus, who returns the gesture.
They walk off of the bow of the ship, as Odysseus begins to speak. “Where have you been staying since we left the last port? The offspring of the gods should have proper accommodations.” He asks Perseus.
“I–” He isn’t sure how to respond, as he isn’t aware of where he stayed either. “I didn’t stay in any room.” Odysseus seemed confused, but he quickly recovered.
“You can take my stateroom for the next few days. I can find other arrangements.” He states, not making room for arguments. Perseus finds one anyway.
“I couldn’t kick you out of your room. I can stay with anyone else; I don’t need special treatment.” He whispers, not trying to be too loud.
“I can set up another bed within the room, if you would prefer, so as to not have you sleeping on the deck in the cold.” Perseus found this agreement to be agreeable enough, so he chose not to continue speaking. “Now, let’s introduce you to the men of the ship.”
“Before we do, some men were–” He searched for the right word. “--Disagreeable with me earlier. WIll that still be a problem?” Perseus asked. He knew that Athena didn’t like his kind, and he found that the men he had met agreed with that sentiment. Even though he will be left by the crew at the next possible time, he didn’t want to suffer for the next few days.
“I assure you, they wouldn’t dare to comment if I introduce you.” Odysseus places his hand on Perseus’ shoulder. Perseus nods, his head still facing forward. Odysseus removes his hand from Perseus’ shoulder.
He listens to the sounds coming from inside the room, the laughter from all kinds of men. Some men seem to be young, some old, but all are speaking as family. Unfortunately, this sound stops as Odysseus opens the door. “Good evening everyone, I would like to introduce a new member of the crew. He can help us to sail through the ocean to reach the Harbor of Aulis.” Everyone seemed to be getting more friendly as Odysseus continued on. “Perseus:” Echoes of greetings were heard from across the room. “Son of Poseidon.” The friendliness ceased, in its absence a sense of unease emerged.
Odysseus turned towards Perseus, expecting him to corroborate the information. “I will be helping us get to Aulis for the next few days, afterwards, I will leave your ship.” The silence continued, and the unease grew as Odysseus beckoned Perseus to sit down near the other men.
It stayed silent until Odysseus shouted. “Next round on me.” The liveliness in the room picked back up, with cheers being heard from every corner of the room.
“Perseus, right?” The man sat to his left asked. Perseus nodded. “You want a swig of mine? You can find out the selection they got here for your free order.” He offered, showing Perseus a cup of red liquid.
“I’m not certain my mother would be thrilled when she finds out.” The words slipped out of Perseus before he could think.
The man laughs, then speaks again. “You think she would be thrilled when she finds out you’re on a ship with us?” He pushes Perseus with his elbow. “My name’s Aether, you don’t have to drink it.” He, again, laughs at the end of his sentence.
“Thanks, Aether. What do you do?” Perseus asks, not having much of a reference point of what he could ask otherwise.
“I work with the sails, but, good for me, it seems you’ll be doing all of that. How do you do it?” Aether asked.
“Do you mean how do I control the water?” Aether nods. “I just–” Perseus doesn’t know how to describe it. He knows where he is, he knows how to move the water, but it’s an action. There isn’t more to it. He moves the water, and it responds. “I move the water, you know?”
He looks at Perseus weirdly. “I don’t, but you do you, I guess.” Aether looked up, took a sip of his drink, then looked back at Perseus. “You ever meet Achilles? He’s one of you water people, right?” He asks.
Another man hits Aether on the head. “He’s the son of Thetis, you idiot. Just because Achilles' mother was a sea nymph doesn’t mean that Perseus is going to automatically know him.” The man pauses. “But, do you?”
Perseus believes that the name sounds familiar, but he isn’t sure where he would have heard it. “I’ve heard his name before, but I don’t think it’s because of the sea.”
The other men got slightly quieter, whispering to each other. “So, uh, who’s your mom? Where’s she from?” Aether asks.
Perseus isn’t quite sure how to respond. He loves his mother, but he doesn’t remember who she physically was. He lets his heart speak for itself. “She’s wonderful. My father always said that she was a goddess amongst women.” Perseus tries to recall more about her, but can’t seem to place where the thoughts are coming form.
The other men stare. “But, like, what’s she the queen of? Or is she just part of the family or something?” They both ask.
Perseus looks at them confused. “She isn’t the queen of anything. She’s just a mortal.” He states. The other men look at him in disbelief.
“Lord Poseidon had a child with a commoner? Why would he do that? Isn’t he better than that?” They started rapid firing questions at one another, confused with the development.
“Don’t speak down on my mother.” Perseus stated, punctuating his sentence with his fist slamming on the table, and him pushing himself up to stand.
The lively chatter quieted down, with everyone staring at Perseus after his outburst. The ship rocked for the first time in hours, causing some of the men to fall,with Perseus remaining still. “You can speak how you want of me, but do not insinuate my mother was so below my father that he must have had a lapse of judgement.”
Odysseus stood up, putting his hand on his shoulder again. “I’m sure they meant no disrespect, Perseus. They spoke out of turn, they can be punished as you see fit.”
“What?” Perseus wasn’t sure what he meant by the end of his statement. The ships rocking had slowed, back to the steady course it had been on previously. “Why would they be punished?”
“We, well–” Odysseus didn’t respond quick enough.
“I’m not punishing men for disrespecting me. They can insult me if they like, as long as, if the time comes, they understand if I do not prioritize them over others. A first offense is not enough to change my opinion of men who have shown kindness so far. Do not offer punishment.” Perseus sat back down, finally noticing the eyes on him.
“Yes, Perseus.” Odysseus stared at Perseus' eyes, trying to decipher the meaning to his words, or if he was being sincere.
Aether stared at Perseus, hoping that he would forget about the previous moment. “Why have you all boarded this ship?” Perseus asks the two men. They stare at him again, but for different reasons.
“Are you not aware of what is happening in Troy?” The man asks.
Perseus pauses. He’s having another spout of deja vu, but he can’t place why. “No, please enlighten me.”
The men pause before asking another question. “Where are you from? Surely, you had to have heard of a little related to the war. It’s claws have reached out to all of Greece, you must have heard of it in some capacity.”
“I have no memories before waking up in the cargo of this ship. I only have feelings of what I have heard and experienced, no memories.” The men freeze with this information.
Aether and the man look at each other, gaining a sense of understanding. “How do you know if you aren’t fighting on Troy's side of the war? Poseidon hasn’t supported us.”
Perseus thinks about the question. While, in theory, he wouldn’t know if he was fighting on their side, he doesn’t feel a strong opposition to anyone. He doesn’t think he did so. “I don’t have feelings related to this war. Even if I worked for Troy, it wouldn’t have been in a fighting capacity. Wars don’t end without losing someone, so I can’t imagine I’d be fine with the other side I was fighting.” Perseus states, sure of himself.
Odysseus comes up behind him. “Well, Perseus, it appears it’s time for us to retire. I’ll lead you to the stateroom. When you are awake in the morning, feel free to wander the ship as you guide us in the right direction. As you sleep, the night shift will continue to work.” Odysseus shares.
Perseus nods at him, then turns back to Aether and the other man. “I must go now, but I should see you two tomorrow. Please tell me what is happening and how I can help. Be well.” Perseus stands and goes with Odysseus. He feels the scrutiny of the men he hadn’t talked to as he left. Odysseus leads Perseus through the door, and, as it closes, he turns back around to Perseus.
“You did well. However, for the time being, I would advise against any other outbursts. They fear you already.” Odysseus whispers to Perseus, waiting for a response.
Perseus gazes down at Odysseus. “I understand your concern, but mine lies with my mother. I do not want to harm anyone, but they should show the same restraint in return.” Perseus walks forward, hoping Odysseus begins to walk ahead to lead the way. To his displeasure, he does not.
“I understand. As long as you do not harm my crew, I will accept those conditions.” Odysseus walks forward, leading Perseus to the room. “You may choose where you sleep, I will be back in just a minute. I will take what is left.”
Perseus choses the bed closest to the door. He lets himself think of his past, or lack thereof. Searching for any memory, Perseus returns with nothing. The only information he uncovered was from him speaking without thinking, which he couldn’t do in the future. Unsure of what to do next, Perseus goes to sleep.
Notes:
hi!!! i’m back, my updates are kinda slow but dw
Chapter 3: Bodies Changed into New Forms
Summary:
i take a really long time mb, also i know how ships work i just keep thinking of the little mermaid ships then getting it confused with greek warships so im like yeah there are two decks but also the bow of the ship is a long stick of wood that then connects to the sharp end of the ship yk
uh also i suck at pacing so maybe ignore that pretty please
Notes:
(See the end of the chapter for notes.)
Chapter Text
The first sense that comes back to him is his sight–part of it, at least. A mush of colors appears, some white, some gold. His next sense doesn’t bring him much clarity, with voices emerging from the mess of colors.
“It’s unfair to allow another part-god into the battle, especially on their side.” Perseus can’t really tell where the voice is coming from, with the voice’s frilly sound filling the entire room. A second voice joins the mix.
“We haven’t seen the boy before, certainly he has no real combat experience. He could be taken out within seconds.” This voice was sharper, although, even if this one wasn’t whining, it was filled with uncertainty.
“He is a great warrior.” A familiar voice interrupts the turmoil. “I believe we should prevent our intervention. I will not have his prowess be belittled by your intervention. He will fight and should Troy fall, he will be standing above it.” Poseidon speaks confidently, attempting to leave little room for disagreement.
“Some wish for the Trojans to be victorious, just because you wish for them to be routed doesn’t stand to reason none can dissent.” The sharp voice speaks again, agitation growing. “If the only finale you see is the fall of Troy, I believe we’ll have to stand on opposing sides.” He huffs with annoyance. “This war is my territory, so stop acting all-mighty–” The man is cut-off by a loud thud from underneath them.
“Surely we cannot be arguing over the war again? Have we not found other issues to put our minds on?” Another man speaks out, his voice booming and deep, chiding the other men.
“Father, you must understand, it’s not the same issue we fight over. We have a new component.” His comments are interrupted twice.
“Ares, I did not ask for your explanation why.” He pauses. “Poseiden, what is the issue they are speaking of?”
Poseidon takes a breath before speaking. “My son. He has been found on a Greek warship, one occupied by the son of Thetis. They are steady on course to Aulis.” He speaks slowly, attempting to convince the other occupants of the room nothing is out of the ordinary.
The father of Ares does not yet react to the statement. Whether it be out of shock or of understanding, Perseus cannot tell. “Your son.” He states. It isn’t a question, as it has just been answered for him in the sentence prior. “When is he set to arrive?”
“He is set to arrive at the harbor in two nights.”
He contemplates. “Ares, observe his abilities at that point. It would make no sense for men cramped on a boat to not want a fight after arriving at the port.” The voice booms once more. Footsteps are heard quieting, presumedly from exiting, although the direction is no clearer to Perseus.
The colors are still warped in his mind, but he begins to see the forming of the figures in the room. Figures appear in red, white, blue, although two new figures can be seen to the left of Perseus. He turns his head to look at the silhouettes more clearly, noticing one is green, the other gold. His attention focuses on the latter.
As the shape starts the form, the gold begins to take the appearance of a man. Perseus’ gaze is captivated by it, but, before he can inch closer, the gold begins to glow, covering his field of vision. He’s taken out of the dream, his body shooting out of his bed.
He feels himself breathing heavily, unable to control the heaving of his body. He breathes in air slowly, attempting to calm himself down, so as to not wake Odysseus. He turns his head forward, staring at where his crewmate sleeps.
His peaceful sleep threw Perseus off, causing some of his feelings to come back over him. He tries to push them down quickly, walking out the door to not cause a disturbance. As he shuts the door behind him, he leans against the wall to its left. He stares down at his hands, trying to focus on keeping them still.
His thoughts are interrupted with a door down the hall slamming. Perseus’ mind switches to be on-guard, unsure of who is still out at this time of night. He hides at the corner of the hall, waiting for the footsteps approaching to turn the corner. Instead, when the man cuts the corner, he accidentally bumps into him.
Perseus is quick to react, knocking what’s in the man’s hand onto the floor, grabbing the hand holding the items. When he looks up, all he sees is a blond staring down at him, wide-eyed. They hold eye contact for a few moments, before the blond shoots out a quick sentence. “I need to speak to Odysseus.” He looks down at his weapon on the floor.
Perseus lets go of the man, stepping back. “Sorry.” He whispers, then begins to walk away from the sleeping quarters of the ship.
The blond stares at Perseus as he exits.
As Perseus steps out onto the deck of the ship, he realizes it’s the break of dawn. He sits on the edge of the ship, watching them continue sailing into the open ocean. As he sits, he listens to the way the waves crash and the rock of the ship in accordance with them. He hears another crash from right behind him, although he can tell it’s not the waves. While no further sounds are heard, Perseus can feel a man approach from behind. He stays seated but he can feel a presence standing directly behind his back, mere inches away.
He feels a gush of wind from a hand moving towards him, which he grabs and twists, pushing it onto the ground. When he looks up, the other hand swings with a sword in hand. Perseus stops the sword by kicking it from the side, trying to avoid getting cut. The disarming works, and he pins both hands of the assailant in front of him on the ground. As he stares, the man quickly brings his head up, but Perseus moves out of the way quickly.
He jumps up, moving away from the edge of the ship to gain more ground, grabbing the sword as he moves over. The sword shifts forms, turning into a two foot long blade. He puts it in his hand, getting himself into a fighting position.
The other man stands still, not coming up to fight Perseus. With a wave of his hand, the sword disappears, now placing the two men at a standstill.
“Perseus, right?” The man says, breathing heavily. Perseus recognized it from the night before.
Perseus looks the man up and down before he nods hesitantly. The man smirks and walks up confidently. Perseus takes a step back immediately, causing the man to falter. “Don’t be afraid, just come closer.” Ares looks him up and down as well, albeit slower.
Perseus hesitates once more, but takes a step forward. He continues walking until he stands a few feet in front of the man. He lifts his gaze from his chest to meet the man’s eyes. Ares holds out a hand in front of him, palm facing upwards. He waits for a few beats. Perseus narrows his eyes as he places his hand on top of the other.
He continues staring. His first blink he’s thrown off balance, the once calm waves now doing more damage. He looks down immediately, noticing he’s on the bow of the ship, only standing on a small plank of wood, Ares in front of him. He tries to retract his hand, but Ares is holding onto it now, smirking again.
When Perseus tries to take a step back, his hand stays glued in place, making him reach out while trying to maintain his balance. He doesn’t slip, standing still as Ares takes more steps towards him, keeping them closer than before. “Who taught you?” He says, staring into his eyes.
“Who taught me what?” Perseus says, confused.
“You can’t try to pretend you haven’t been taught.” He grips tighter onto Perseus’ hand, now pulling it to the side of him, pressing them almost completely together.
“I’m not trying to pretend.” He tried to back up again, to no avail. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He reaches his mind out to the sea, trying to feel it there.
“I said don’t lie.” The man grows more agitated by the minute. “I don’t have to keep you on the ship.”
Perseus reaches out to the water, pushing Ares away from him quickly. He runs back onto the deck of the ship, creating distance between him and the other man. Ares huffs, stalking back forwards.
“That’s not enough room to keep me out of here, you know that, don’t you?” Ares summons his sword again, its length now twice as long, and Perseus is near the wall. As his back hits the wall, the blade goes to his throat. He doesn’t appear to be trying to cause harm yet, only to talk, but that’s all the more frightening.
Perseus reaches into his pocket on instinct, but nothing is to be found in there still. He prays to his father, unsure of what he is asking. He feels something materialize in the pocket, which he whips out quickly, it turning into a sword when in front of him. He quickly twists the sword within Ares’ grip, making him drop it once more.
Ares takes it as well as he did the first time, advancing on Perseus and disarming him immediately, trying to get them to fight close combat.
Before he makes it, Perseus feels another man grab him from behind. “Oh, brother, we must be able to talk this out.”
The hands of the man behind him move to touch his stomach and his wrist. The same gold he saw earlier in his dream connected the hands, creating string-esque connections. “Looks like you skipped talking completely.” Ares says, looking at the hand on his stomach.
“I’ll bring him back.” The golden man says, smiling, before letting go of Perseus’ wrist and strumming the strings, bringing the two of them to a woodland area. Perseus immediately jumps out of the way, but he’s now unfamiliar with his environment. “Sorry, I just wanted to talk. Where are you from?” He stares at the unfamiliar clothing adorning him.
Perseus doesn’t answer, he stares back, looking at the area surrounding him. “You just-” The man doesn’t quite know what to say. “You look like you're not from around here. What river is yours? I can help you find it.” He takes a step forward, reaching out to Perseus.
“What do they call you where you’re from?” He says, the land that they’re on skipping to different landscapes with a new note on each change. “Feel free to stop me on the right place.”
“Stop!” Perseus shouts. He doesn’t know where they are, but he won’t ever know. He doesn’t know what's in this world.
“Here? It’s so quaint. I’ll visit you. There are plenty of spaces for us–” The man starts, before Perseus shouts out again.
“I don’t live here, bring me back to the ship.” He starts. “I want to be on the water.”
“Of course, sorry, must’ve slipped my mind.” He plays the strings once more, bringing them back to the deck of the ship. The man reaches for Perseus’ hands, attempting to hold them while they stand on the ship. “You must like it here if you left your home. No reason to bring you back yet.” The man smiles, bringing Perseus’ hands to his hips. “I’m sure you’ll give me some kind of thanks for my help.”
“What?” Perseus’ eyes flicker from the man's face to his hands.
“Oh, I forgot another thing! You must be so confused.” He lets go of one hand and places it on Perseus’ cheek. “I’m Apollo.” He moved both hands to Perseus’ back.
“OK?” Perseus tries to scoot back, but Apollo takes that as him leaning into his touch.
“I get it, I really do. This must be overwhelming.” He lessens his grip slightly, leaning back. “You don’t have to be scared. I’m not like Ares, I’m not a brute.”
“That’s not exactly what I’m concerned about.” Perseus whispers underneath his breath, trying not to agitate the god in front of him.
“It’s alright to have feelings. I know it’s morning, and you probably don’t want your crewmates getting uncomfortable, so I can leave you now. You can give me your offerings during the day, no extra fee for the wait.” Apollo says, letting go, still staring into his eyes. He adds an extra string to the ones in front of him, strums it, then disappears.
Perseus stays frozen for a few moments, unsure of what to do. When he turns around, both Odysseus and Eurylochus are standing behind him. Odysseus at the space where the man just left, and Eurylochus at Perseus.
“Why were the gods in support of Troy here?” Eurylochus asked. He phrased it as less of a question, closer to an accusation.
“I’m sure he meant no illwill. He is leaving after we stay in Aulis, so there mustn’t be a reason for him to attempt to betray us, if we could even consider it that.” Odysseus chimes in. He waits for a defense from Perseus.
Perseus does not defend himself. He looks between the two confused at what to say, what would be the proper thing to do in this situation. He looks down at his feet, wiggling his toes.
“We can get him started on his work today, let us get to our destination much quicker.” Eurylochus says, stepping forwards. He beckons Perseus to follow him, and starts walking to the bow of the ship. “If we remain steady, this course is optimal. There shouldn’t be any obstacles, but keep us on this path exactly and we should arrive by the next break of day.” He points his hand forwards, finishing his speech. He turns and leaves quickly, not wanting to become stuck with Perseus.
He starts with his work by sitting down and closing his eyes. He reaches to move the boat forward quickly, staying on course. The sails of the ship are catching with the movements, as the ship is moving faster than the wind would typically take them, resulting in the sails pushing them back.
Eurylochus commanded the sails to be put away, but Perseus didn’t pay him any mind. He kept the boat going forwards, meditating in the center as he used the water to push everyone forwards. The waves stay calm, the boat not wasting its energy by going upwards with the waves.
While Perseus doesn’t notice it, he’s amassed a collection of people watching him move the ship, as their typical jobs have been put out of work. He sits, going into a trance like state.
“You know, I never got your name.” Apollo says. Perseus opens his eyes, seeing the man in front of him once more.
“It’s Perseus.”
“Oh, Percy.” It feels right to him. No one has called him that, as Odysseus insists on being formal, but the nickname, even if it's for the purpose of not being associated with the father of Apollo, works. “I didn’t realize you would start to dream so quickly.” Apollo says offhandedly.
“What?”
Apollo continues. “I thought you would give yourself more time to think about what to offer me as thanks, as I delivered you safely to your home.” He acts as if it's a common occurrence, as if Perseus is the stupid one for asking about it.
“You didn’t take me home.” Perseus says, confused.
“It’s the thought that matters, right, Percy?” He comes closer, but Perseus backs away again. Apollo frowns, and, with it, the walls come closer, stopping Perseus from going back any further. Apollo continues to walk further, stopping just a meter in front of him. “What’s wrong?” He asks.
Perseus doesn’t respond right away. There must be something wrong with the man if he doesn’t understand the issue. “I’m not home, you took me off of a ship then put me back on it, that doesn’t constitute a thanks.”
Apollo stares at Perseus for a few beats, then laughs. “That's funny. I’m not asking whether or not I get one, I’m asking how you plan to do it.”
“I’d rather just not.” Perseus turns his head to the side with his response.
Apollo takes both of Perseus’ hands and intertwines them with his own. His grip is light, but keeping both hands in place. “We must be able to come to an arrangement, Percy.”
Perseus exhales. He closes his eyes, and tries to feel the water he is pulling to move the boat. He feels the tug, and opens his eyes one last time. He sees the scene of Apollo staring at him now changing to the sight of a harbor at nightfall. His eyes open to the entire crew being right next to him. He sees concern in Odysseus' eyes, lifting slightly as Perseus gains his consciousness fully.
“We have found our way to the port it seems.” Odysseus says, bringing a hand out to Perseus. “You must be tired from moving the ship all day. We must treat you to a feast on the island.” He smiles, waiting for Perseus to stand.
Perseus takes Odysseus’ hand, standing, although shaking slightly. He takes the support Odysseus offers, and begins to walk off the boat onto the shore. As he walks off the shore, he notices other members not part of the crew on the island. Campsites are set up across the land, and another boat is docked next to his own. Odysseus notices his staring. “It’s King Agamemnon, he and his crew met us at this island. I’m sure we can convince him to join in our festivities.”
Perseus looks towards the forest, noticing deer and rabbits running about the area. Perseus can’t shake a bad feeling coming out of his head, so he starts to pick up the pace with Odysseus.
As they reach the tent of Agamemnon, the feeling has progressed into something worse, reaching its peak. “Who’s this?” The king says, inspecting the state of Perseus, his eyes changing from indifference to interest.
“He helped us sail over here quickly, he is leaving tonight. We wanted to hold a feast for all the men we set off for Troy.” Odysseus says, as the king continued to stare at Perseus.
“I’ll have my men gather food right away, I’m sure we can all be introduced.” He turns away, presumably telling his men what to gather.
Odysseus turns to him. “For tonight, you can help set up the tents, and we’ll get you changed into something befitting a half-god.” He begins to walk away, Perseus following him right after.
Notes:
uh ily guys trust i might make another chapter before six months from now that is hopefully longer but we will see