The Path of the Gods Part I: A Debt Returned
Percy walked along the marble steps that rose through the clouds, ascending higher and higher toward the sky. As he climbed, his eyes remained fixed on the end of the staircase, unable to fully process what he was seeing.
From above the clouds rose what looked like a mountain, its summit covered in eternal snow. Along its slopes stretched many kinds of palaces, built across several levels, forming an entire city of mansions. All of them had wide porticos, white marble columns, and large lit braziers that illuminated the paths.
The roads spiraled upward toward the peak, where a palace even more magnificent than the rest stood, dominating the entire place like the heart of the city.
As Percy advanced, he could see a lively marketplace, an amphitheater, a hippodrome, and a coliseum. It truly looked like a massive Greek city, but unlike those on Earth, this one was not in ruins nor worn down by time. Everything looked intact, alive, eternal.
It made no real sense for a city so colossal to be suspended above Manhattan. Its sheer size alone should have weighed billions of tons, and yet no one seemed to see it from below.
Even so, Percy pushed those thoughts aside as he walked through the corridors, following a clear instinct that told him exactly where he needed to go.
Nymphs played around him, tossing olives at him while smiling with joy. Market vendors offered him ambrosia, a new shield, and other truly magical objects, as if all of it were the most normal thing in the world.
All of this made it clear that there were many people there. Among them were handsome young men and beautiful women who were undoubtedly minor gods and goddesses, along with a few satyrs and other creatures Percy vaguely recognized.
None of them seemed truly concerned about an imminent civil war. Maybe it did not interest them much, or maybe they knew they would not be the ones to suffer the consequences the most.
The closer he got to the main palace, the more he realized it resembled Hades' palace. While Hades' was dark and black, this one was completely white and silver, as if light itself were part of its structure.
Surely Hades had built it as an exact replica, since he was forbidden from entering Olympus except during the solstices. And thinking about it, Percy believed that, among all the gods, Hades was the one who felt the least discomfort about his existence. Maybe it was because they had arrived at a truly interesting moment, with the castle being rebuilt and all that, after meeting his teacher.
That made Percy wonder what the hell his teacher had done to leave Hades' castle in that state. He also remembered the stories about Hades, who, unlike other gods, seemed fairly calm. Well, except for the fact that he was the god in charge of sending you to eternal torment after death. Still, it would be better to be on good terms with him. Maybe Percy could end up in a nice place when he died. Something like nepotism. After all, he was his nephew. And he had never even given him a single Christmas or birthday present.
With that rather foolish thought circling his mind, Percy walked toward the central garden. From there, a wide corridor extended directly toward the throne room.
Well, calling it a room hardly did justice to how enormous the place was. Colossal columns rose up to a vaulted ceiling, where golden constellations drifted slowly, as if the sky itself were alive. Twelve gigantic thrones were arranged in an inverted U shape, very similar to the cabins at Camp Half-Blood.
A massive fire burned in the central brazier, filling the hall with a constant, solemn warmth.
All the thrones were empty except for two. The central throne, and the one immediately to its left. There was no need to guess who the gods seated there were, even in their enormous human forms.
Percy gave them a quick glance, yet at the same time he felt as though his very existence could be erased in an instant.
Zeus sat wearing a navy blue suit with a diplomatic style, his beard neatly trimmed and his face handsome yet somber, filled with supreme pride. As Percy approached, the air seemed to crackle, releasing a sharp scent of ozone.
The god seated beside him, undoubtedly his brother and Percy's father, was dressed like any beachgoer. Leather sandals, shorts, and a Bahamas shirt covered in coconuts and parrots. He looked quite relaxed, as if he were a spectator who had simply taken the wrong seat. And speaking of seats, his throne was literally a fishing chair. His black hair and green eyes closely resembled Percy's. That look felt familiar to him, the same one his mother always said belonged to a rebel.
The atmosphere felt tense and serious, as if they had just finished an argument moments before being interrupted, while both gods stared directly at Percy.
Percy glanced briefly at Poseidon before walking forward and stopping right between the two gods. He was about to kneel, just as Annabeth had repeated hundreds of times before he got into the taxi that brought him there. But before doing so, he stopped, remembering his teacher's words, which carried far more weight.
So he did not kneel. Instead, he placed a hand over his chest and lowered his head slightly in a formal and honorable greeting. Very respectful, but not submissive.
"God of the seas, Poseidon, and god of lightning, Zeus. I offer my respects," Percy said, his tone slightly nervous, noticeable in a faint tremor in his words.
That act made Zeus visibly frown and speak before Poseidon could even react. The god of the sea wore an expression caught between surprise and mild confusion at Percy's courtesy in addressing him by his title.
"You should kneel and address the owner of this house first, boy," Zeus said. His words sounded anything but friendly, especially upon seeing that Percy had not knelt in the presence of the gods. It felt as though a single wrong word could trigger an attack.
Percy felt it in his bones. He kept his head lowered for a few moments without kneeling, even though with every passing second he felt a growing pressure trying to force the strength out of his legs, coming from Zeus's gaze.
"Peace, brother," Poseidon said, interrupting him. Percy felt the weight vanish the instant Zeus slowly shifted his gaze toward him. "Even if he does not kneel, he is showing worthy respect. We can skip such formalities," he added.
"Hmph. You speak for him. Do you still accept him as your son even after that treaty we had?" Zeus said, giving Percy a mocking, disdainful smile.
"I admit I acted wrongly. But for now, it is better to hear what he has to say," Poseidon replied, his tone steady and controlled.
Upon hearing Poseidon's words, Percy's eyes shone for an instant, as if something within him had finally given way. He showed no sadness at all. It was as if he had expected it, as if he truly needed to hear it to bring closure to something he had been carrying within himself.
"I should have struck him down when he dared to fly through my skies. He has already had too many chances," Zeus said irritably.
"And possibly destroy your master bolt?" Poseidon replied with the same calm as before. "Just let him speak, brother," he added.
Zeus grumbled for a moment before fixing his gaze on Percy.
"Fine. Speak, brat. And with your words I will decide whether to throw you off Olympus or strike you down with lightning," he said, staring at him.
"Perseus, look at me," Poseidon said, making Percy finally raise his head.
Percy obeyed and held Poseidon's gaze. Two sea green eyes faced one another without wavering. Neither of them showed anything. No love, no approval, not even a search for approval from Percy. They were like two oceans. Some days you might try to guess their mood, yet it would remain unreadable and mysterious.
However, unlike Poseidon, Percy's ocean hid turbulent tides within. Something Poseidon seemed to perceive for a brief instant, frowning as if he wanted to ask something, before quickly returning to his usual expression.
"Tell Lord Zeus your story," he said calmly.
Percy nodded and began to recount everything that had happened. His encounter with Hades, with Ares, and how he had recovered the bolt. However, he kept some things to himself at his teacher's request. Such as the fact that Ares had actually been injured by him. At that moment, according to the red haired giant Annabeth believed might be Thor, the battle could not have been seen by anyone. They had been sealed behind some kind of curtain that concealed everything.
Then Percy pulled out the metal tube that contained the master bolt. The moment it left his backpack, it began to crackle, releasing small sparks as it sensed Zeus's proximity.
Zeus stared intently at Percy, as if he were trying to see through him. Beyond his words, beyond his mind.
"There are many flaws in your story, boy," he said as he frowned. "For example, where is that anomaly that accompanies you? And why is it not with you now to protect you?" he asked. His gray eyes seemed to shine with increasing ferocity.
"Protect me?" Percy asked instinctively.
"I have seen your broadcast. Someone who does not respect the gods dares to set foot on Olympus and, above all, is connected to such an anomaly. Even if you recovered the bolt, I cannot let you live," Zeus said, raising his hand as if demanding the master bolt to return to it.
Poseidon turned his head toward Zeus, not truly expecting him to kill Percy after he had brought the bolt back. At the same time, however, he understood something. Zeus's pride had been scorned many times. By Percy's teacher and by Percy himself. The attack on the cabin, where Poseidon had also intervened to stop him. Other confrontations, where Miraak had protected Percy. And Percy openly mocking the gods.
Many had been cursed and punished for far less.
Percy wore a frightened expression as he felt imminent danger. The metal tube left his hand and flew toward Zeus, while everything around him seemed to move in slow motion. Percy knew that the moment that object touched Zeus's hands, he would be struck down. He also saw Poseidon rise from his seat, his expression serious, as if he were going to try to stop his brother.
But at that point, Percy truly held no hope in his father.
The only person he had hope in…
Was Miraak.
And that hope never broke. Not from the moment he met him.
"Oh. I was always here," a voice suddenly said.
The metal tube was caught in midair just before reaching Zeus. It crackled violently, transforming into a lightning bolt made entirely of energy, a thunderous javelin that intensified the smell of ozone in the surroundings, at least for kilometers.
Zeus's eyes widened as he saw Miraak appear, as if an ethereal form were becoming physical before everyone. At the same time, Miraak rested the master bolt on his shoulder, aimed it directly at Zeus's chest, and hurled it with such force that his hand seemed to break the speed of sound.
"I am returning it," Miraak said. It did not sound like a simple gesture; it sounded like a debt settled.
The impact was deafening. Percy covered his ears as all of Olympus lit up at once. The bolt struck Zeus squarely in the chest.
The massive figure of the god was hurled away, destroying one of the beams and his throne in the process, while the lightning ravaged a large portion of the mountain.
Miraak landed on the ground and stood firmly right in front of Percy. His body was imbued with his dragon form, his armor fully restored, ready for another battle.
From the shattered remains of the mountain, a muffled thunder resounded. Furious, stormy, heavy enough to shake the air itself.