Continent of Essos - Around the Free City of Myr.
Am I dead?
That was Lorien's first thought as he regained consciousness. However, he soon felt his body, the powerful beating of his heart making him feel warm inside and clear that he was alive.
Feeling the sandy ground beneath him, he assumed he was on gravel, which was not at all comfortable.
Lorien didn't rush to open his eyes and see his surroundings. After long years of fighting, he felt he deserved some rest, even if it was only for a few minutes. He was a prince, even if he was a bastard, he was still a prince and he deserved a reward.
While his eyes were still closed, Lorien couldn't make his life miserable. He never knew his mother, he was abandoned right after he was born, but Lorien himself didn't blame his mother.
The circumstances of his birth could make any woman traumatized for the rest of her life, especially when you have to look after the fruit of a rape. So Lorien never really hated his mother for abandoning him.
Although they say that love conquers all, it's just an illusion fabricated by people in an era that was safe and conducive to developing the right morals and character.
A special mention to say that this was Lorien's second life. In his first life, he was just a stupid, irresponsible teenager. Fortunately, dying makes you mature, even if you didn't want to.
In his second life, Lorien clearly noticed unusual things as he grew up. There was a goat that always looked at him, monsters disguised as humans that no other person could see.
The more he became familiar with the world, the more Lorien noticed a strange familiar feeling. At the age of six, he discovered, he was in Percy Jackson's World and he was a cursed demigod.
After learning this fact, the demigod naturally tried out his powers and became silent, seeing that he could control the weather, lightning, wind and even sense people's lies.
Yes, he was the son of Zeus. A true bastard prince of the highest degree.
If you considered Jason Grace one of the most powerful demigods to ever exist, his greatest feats being to stop Gaia for a while, kill a titan and even a monster the size of a skyscraper, Lorien was even more of a complete freak. He inherited all of Zeus' powers.
At the age of six, he was killing monsters as if they were helpless chickens, his lightning so powerful that it could melt any metal and even divine metals. He could control the weather over an extremely long area, as well as being able to fly for a long period of time.
Reaching his peak, the demigod even wounded Kronos with his lightning, hurting the cannibal titan and making him bleed like any mortal. He is considered the strongest demigod this world has ever seen.
Remembering his childhood, Lorien let out a low laugh. Although he was more mature, he was, in the end, a teenager. With so much power in his hands, he was quite arrogant. Fortunately, he met an old man who taught him a few things and his arrogance calmed down.
Lorien finally managed to open his eyes, what he saw was a sea of stars shining against a black background. "How beautiful." He murmured, staring at the stars shining brightly.
After gazing at the stars for half an hour, Lorien stood up and when he moved, a pained groan escaped his lips.
Looking down, he saw a huge gash starting at his shoulder and ending at his stomach. It was Kronos' last blow, his grandfather had really shown no mercy, and neither had he. The Greek armor protecting his body hadn't helped stop the Cannibal Titan's blow one bit.
Dried blood was around the wound, but there was no more blood flowing, showing that the wound had successfully coagulated. If Lorien hadn't dodged, he would have been cut in half by the scythe of time.
Touching the ruby ring on his ring finger, a medieval long sword appeared in his hand. It was gold and blue, beautiful and elegant, symbolizing royalty and honour. The sword was very reminiscent of the Excalibur that the male version of Artoria de Fate wielded.
The name of the sword was Dies Irae (Day of Wrath), and it was personally made by his half-brother, Hephaestus, a designer obviously from Lorien, who was a big fan of the Fate franchise.
Using the sword to support himself, Lorien managed to stand up and looked around. Nothing but sand and stones. As it was night, it was dark and he couldn't see very far. Closing his eyes, the demigod listened to the wind, which gently caressed his face and hair.
Lorien looked in a certain direction and walked slowly with the help of Dies Irae, his every step slow but steady. His electrifying blue eyes couldn't have been calmer.
Taking another look at the stars, the demigod couldn't help but notice the differences in the constellations. "Looks like I'm not in Percy Jackson's world anymore." Lorien muttered, he knew the constellations of the earth and knew that he was probably in another world.
Surprisingly, Lorien was quite calm about the fact that he had arrived in a completely new world. Which isn't really a surprise, remembering his background.
He'd fought gods, titans and monsters, so arriving in another world didn't seem so surprising.
Suddenly, Lorien's eyes found sources of light not far from his location, but you could tell they were fires. Feeling that his wound was better, his sword turned back into a ring and he walked slowly and calmly towards the source of light. His hand was on his stomach, still feeling the excruciating pain.
Although he didn't care that he had arrived in another world, Lorien wasn't stupid. While fighting, he learned to be cautious of his enemies, a caution he used at all times.
...
The closer he got, the more Lorien could see the light source, or rather, what was around it. A caravan of people, all wearing clothes suitable for walking in the desert.
There weren't many people, dozens of them, some obviously warriors guarding the perimeter. They all looked like experienced men baptized in the flames and steel of battle.
Lorien noticed that everyone's eyes were on him, which didn't really surprise him. After all, he was wearing bloody Greek armor on his upper body and a pair of pants on his lower body.
However, Lorien stopped approaching and stood five meters from the camp in front of him. Exceeding this limit would cause people to misunderstand and attack him.
Sitting down on the sand, Lorien took off his armor and began to bandage his wounds, oblivious to everyone's stares. He tore off his shirt and quickly turned it into bandages. They weren't clean, but nothing his demigod body couldn't heal.
Suddenly, Lorien noticed an approach and looked up to see a man with olive skin and dark hair, there was a slightly small, curved blade at his waist.
"My master invites you to warm yourself by the fire." Despite the completely new language, Lorien actually understood what the man was saying. The language was a little reminiscent of a song, but very little indeed, tinged with a strong tone that he assumed was an accent.
Lorien was surprised, but accepted it. In any case, although he was wounded, an ordinary human could pose no threat to him. After all, although injured, he could summon lightning from the sky and turn someone into a fried babata without any difficulty.
Getting up with a little difficulty, he walked over to the caravan.
Looking at the olive-skinned, black-haired man of the apparent leader of the caravan, Lorien assumed that it was a racial characteristic of this country, because apart from three people, the rest had the same features.
"Thank you for sharing your fire." Lorien was a very direct man, he hated wasting time. Perhaps it was a habit he had developed over the years living in a world of gods and monsters, but he preferred to spend his time training, something he had never had the determination or even the courage to achieve in his past life.
The merchant smiled, his face lit up by the flickering flames of the campfire.
He threw a piece of wood into the flames and replied in a rather lazy tone: "Helping someone lost is a good deed, R'hllor will praise me for my actions and perhaps I will enter his so-called paradise of flames and life."
Lorien's eyes narrowed at the mention of the deity, the name was familiar... he tried to remember where this familiarity came from. His memory was something he prided himself on and he soon found the answer.
Lorien couldn't help but be surprised to learn that he had arrived in this world of conspiracies, assassinations, wars and dragons. Although it wasn't as dangerous as the second world he had lived in, it wasn't without its dangers either.
This world was full of traces of gods, especially the Red God of Volantis. It might seem like a mere coincidence to meet a believer of R'hllor, but Lorien had learned that there were no coincidences when a god was involved, he had learned that from the three annoying old women.
"I hope so, we all deserve peace after a lifetime of fighting and wars." Lorien commented in a calm tone as she continued to cover his wound with the makeshift bandages.
The merchant's eyes lit up at Lorien's words, the thirteen-year-old boy in front of him was a true warrior, not one without experience, but a monster forged on the battlefield. This could be seen by the countless scars on his body, showing that life had not been kind to him even at such a young age.
"Peace. What a hard word to find in this world." The merchant said with a smile, turning his gaze back to the flames. His dark brown eyes reflected the orange flames as if the flames were responding to him.
Lorien didn't answer, but nodded in agreement. In this world, where the Game of Thrones would decide the fate of the world, peace was not an easy thing to achieve. But he didn't care about peace. As long as he was at peace, the world would burn to ashes.
Lorien didn't fight Kronos because he was a hero like Percy, he fought Kronos for his survival and nothing more.
He was a terribly selfish being and could even be called a tyrant, something he has been called by some fellow humans and even gods.
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Read my other books:
Game Of Thrones: The God-Emperor of Planetos (500,000 words written).
Percy Jackson: Godwyn the Golden.
Game Of Thrones: Son of Zeus