ROYAL CRIES
━━ chapter thirteen

━━ THE THREE FATES themselves took Luke's body.

               Elisa had never seen the Fates before, but she didn't expect them to be old, wrinkly sacks of skin. She would never tell them that, though. They scared her—three ghoulish grandmothers with bags of knitting needles and yarn.

               One of them looked at her and, even though the Fate didn't say anything, Elisa saw her life flash before her very eyes. Suddenly she was twenty. Then she was a middle-aged woman. Then she turned old and withered. All the strength left her body, and she saw her own tombstone and an open grave, a coffin being lowered into the ground. All this happened in less than a second.

               It is done, the Fate said.

               She held up the snippet of blue yarn—part of Elisa feared it was Percy's based on the color, but she knew deep down it wasn't. She realized it was Luke's. The three gathered up Luke's body, now wrapped in a white-and-green shroud, and began carrying it out of the throne room.

               "Wait," Hermes said.

               The messenger god was dressed in his classic outfit of white Greek robes, sandals, and a helmet. The wings of his helm fluttered as he walked. The snakes George and Martha curled around his caduceus, murmuring, 'Luke, poor Luke.'

               Hermes unwrapped Luke's face and kissed his forehead. He murmured some words in Ancient Greek—a final blessing.

               "Farewell," he whispered. Then he nodded, and allowed the Fates to carry away his son's body.

               As they left, Elisa thought about the Great Prophecy. The lines now made sense now that it was all over—which was typically the case. The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. The hero was Luke, in some twisted way considering all the horrible things he did. The cursed blade was the knife he'd given Annabeth so long ago—cursed because Luke had broken his promise and betrayed his friends. A single choice shall end his days. Percy's choice—to give Luke the knife, and to believe in him as Annabeth had, that Luke was still capable of setting things right. Olympus to preserve or raze. By sacrificing himself, Luke had saved Olympus—in his own odd, twisted way.

               Rachel was right. In the end. Even Elisa—as begrudgingly as she could—had to admit it.

               Next to Elisa, Annabeth's knees buckled. The black-haired girl caught her but the blonde cried out in pain, and she realized she grabbed Annabeth's broken arm.

               "Oh my gods," Elisa gasped. "I'm so sorry!"

               "It's all right," the blonde managed to croak before she passed out.

               Elisa looked at Percy, looking like a deer caught in headlights. She clearly hadn't expected her friend to pass out.

               "She needs help!" Percy yelled.

               "I've got this." Apollo stepped forward. His fiery armor was so bright it was hard to look at, and his matching Ray-Bans and perfect smile made him look like a male model for battle gear. "God of Medicine, at your service."

               He passed his hand over Annabeth's face and spoke an incantation. Immediately the bruises faded. Her cuts and scars disappeared. Her arm straightened, and she sighed in her sleep.

               Apollo then looked at Elisa. "You're the one that banged into my throne, didn't you? Cause me a fright, you know."

               "Sorry," the daughter of Dionysus said, although she didn't sound too apologetic. "I was fighting for my life."

               The god shrugged. "No biggie. Hey—you're not doing too hot yourself." He placed his thumb right in the middle of her forehead, saying another incantation. His finger burned like a thousand degrees on her skin. Elisa wondered if he burned straight through her skin and to her skull. "If you kept going on any longer, you would've passed out eventually, too. You took a nasty hit to the head."

               Elisa stared at the god. She had stopped seeing threes of everything a little while ago, but her head still pounded like someone was beating her skull with a hammer. She wondered if she had a concussion but so much was going on, she didn't exactly have time to check. Whatever Apollo did—which was probably just another healing hymn—worked perfectly. She still felt horrible, but not so horrible that she was going to collapse.

               "Well—thanks, I guess." She exchanged a look with Percy. Elisa never knew how to approach Apollo, he was ... well, himself.

               Apollo grinned. "You two will be fine in a few minutes. Which is just enough time for me to compose a poem about our victory: Apollo and his friends save Olympus. Good, eh?" He looked to Elisa and Percy for any critics ( which could only be praise, because how could you criticize the God of Poetry on his poetry? )

               "Yeah, it's lovely," said Elisa. "Thanks again—for the healing. But I'll let you handle poetry. It's not really my thing."

               The next few hours were a blur. The gods set about repairing the throne room, which went surprisingly fast with twelve super-powerful beings at work. Grover, Elisa, and Percy cared for the wounded, and once the sky bridge re-formed they greeted their friends who had survived.

               The Cyclopes had saved Thalia from the fallen statue. She was on crutches, but otherwise, she was okay. Connor and Travis Stoll had made it through with only minor injuries. They promised that they hadn't even looted the city much. They told Percy that his parents were fine, though they weren't allowed into Mount Olympus. Mrs. O'Leary had dug Chiron out of the rubble and rushed him off to Camp. The Stolls looked kind of worried about the old centaur, but at least he was alive.

               Elisa found Pollux and Castor, who pounced on her and enveloped her in a hug. The twins started thanking the gods for how grateful they were that their baby sister was still alive. She managed to pry herself away, finding Drew standing among her siblings. The daughter of Aphrodite looked relieved to see her, but Elisa noticed the wary look in her eyes. She can't deny the sharp feeling that pierced her heart; Drew was scared of her own friend after what she had seen during Callum's death.

               Nico di Angelo came into Olympus to a hero's welcome, his father right behind him, despite the fact that Hades was only supposed to visit Olympus on winter solstice. The God of the Dead looked stunned when his relatives clapped him on the back. Elisa doubted he'd ever got such an enthusiastic welcome before.

               Elisa wanted to go over and talk to Nico, but she didn't want to talk to his father. Instead of letting her wariness of the God of the Dead take over, she worked up the nerve and trekked over. The son of Hades looked happy to see her, opening his arms for another hug—which Elisa was happy about. Neither of them was the one for hugs but after nearly meeting Death so many times, they made exceptions for each other.

               Hades watched the daughter of Dionysus carefully, as if he was still figuring out her intentions. He didn't look angry with her, but it was still scary to be stared down by the Lord of the Underworld.

               "Hello, Lord Hades," Elisa spoke up, holding her hand out to the god.

               The god looked her in the eye, his eyes as dark as midnight. "A half-blood has never offered to ... shake my hand before."

               The girl swallowed and retracted her hand. "Well—I want to make a good impression."

               Nico was grinning like a madman. "Dad, this is Elisa. The one who was at Westover with Bianca and me."

               "Ah ..." Hades nodded knowingly. "My son has spoken highly of you. Daughter of Dionysus, aren't you?"

               "Yes, sir." Elisa nodded.

               Hades looked away, and his eyes locked on Dionysus, who nodded to them before getting lost in the crowd. "Children of Dionysus are much more welcomed than any of my own, but ... Well, when people remember Dionysus is the God of Madness, people become wary."

               Elisa stared at the god. Her heart skipped a couple of beats. Did he know about what had happened with Callum? He was the God of the Dead, maybe he could see what had happened right before someone came to his domain.

               "I—I don't understand," she struggled to admit.

               "I'm saying I'm happy my son has someone like you on his side." The god looked to the side again, as if checking for something. "I must ask," he told Elisa and Nico quietly. "The Percy boy? You want him?"

               Elisa went red in the face. "I don't know what you talking about," she said lamely.

               Hades shrugged and straightened. "I only wanted to ask. Nico, follow me."

               He swept away, his blood-colored cloak sweeping along behind him. Before he left, Nico gave Elisa a wide grin and a side hug and then hurried after his father.

               Clarisse marched in, still shivering from her time in the ice block, and Ares bellowed, "There's my girl!"

               The God of War ruffled her hair and pounded her on the back, calling her the best warrior he'd ever seen. "That drakon-slaying? That's what I'm talking about!"

               She looked pretty overwhelmed. All she could do was nod and blink, but eventually, she began to smile.

               Hera and Hephaestus passed Elisa and Percy, who had managed to find each other within the packed throne room. While Hephaestus was a little grumpy about the son of Poseidon jumping on his throne, he thought the boy had done "a pretty bang-up job—mostly."

               Hera sniffed in disdain. "I suppose I won't destroy you two and that little girl now."

               Elisa tried to keep her scowl to a minimum. "Annabeth saved Olympus. She even managed to convince Luke to stop Kronos."

               Hera whirled away in a huff, but Elisa figured that would be for the best.

               Dionysus's head was still wrapped in a bandage. He looked Percy up and down and sniffed distastefully. "Well, Percy Jackson. I see you survived. It's all thanks to my training, I suppose."

               Percy glanced at Elisa, who only shook her head. "Um, yes, sir," the boy said.

               Mr. D nodded. "As thanks for my bravery, Zeus has cut my probation at that miserable camp in half. I now have only fifty years left instead of one hundred."

               "Really? Only fifty years?" Elisa asked. She hated to think of putting up with her father for much longer than she had now.

               "Don't sound so excited, Elisabet," Dionysus chided.

               "Oh, no. I would never." She shooked her head. "I hate to think that you would be at Camp only fifty years longer to ruin it with your ... attitude."

               Dionysus rolled his eyes. "I'm still the activities director, Elisa. Don't forget that. I can make your time there miserable if I want."

               Elisa raised her eyebrows. "Of course."

               "Just so we understand each other." The god turned and began repairing his grapevine throne, which had been singed by fire.

               Grover stayed at Percy's side for the most part. Elisa noticed from time to time, he would break down in tears. "So many nature spirits dead, Percy. So many."

               Percy put his arm around the satyr's shoulders and gave him a rag to blow his nose. "You did a great job, G-man. We will come back from this. We'll plant new trees. We'll clean up the parks. Your friends will be reincarnated into a better world."

               "I'll see if I can get my cabin and Cabin Four to do anything," Elisa added. "Miranda Gardiner is really good at growing roses and such. Castor and Pollux are good at growing grapes, too."

               Grover sniffled dejectedly. "I—I suppose. But it was hard enough to rally satyrs and nature spirits before. I'm still an outcast. I could barely get anyone to listen to me about Pan. Now, will they ever listen to me again? I led them into a slaughter."

               "They will listen," Percy promised. "Because you care about them. You care about the wild more than anyone."

               The satyr tried for a smile. "Thanks, Percy, Elisa. I hope ... I hope you know I'm really proud to be your guys' friend."

               The son of Poseidon patted his arm. "Luke was right about one thing, G-man. You're the bravest satyr I ever met."

               He blushed, but before he could say anything, conch horns blew. The army of Poseidon marched into the throne room.

               "Percy!" Tyson yelled. He charged for his brother with arms open wide. Fortunately, the Cyclops shrunk back to normal size, so his hug was like getting hit by a tractor, not the entire farm.

               "You are not dead!" he cheered happily.

               "Yeah!" Percy agreed. "Amazing, huh?"

               He clapped his hands and laughed happily. "I am not dead, either. Yay! We chained Typhon. It was fun!"

               Behind him, fifty other armored Cyclopes laughed and nodded and gave each other high-fives.

               "Tyson led us," one rumbled. "He is brave!"

               "Bravest of the Cyclopes!" another bellowed.

               Tyson blushed. "Was nothing."

               "I saw you!" Percy said. "You were incredible!"

               Elisa thought poor Grover would pass out. He was deathly afraid of Cyclopes. But he steeled his nerves and said, "Yes. Um ... three cheers for Tyson!"

               The Cyclopes roared loudly as one.

               "Please don't eat me ..." Grover muttered, but she doesn't think anyone heard him but her and Percy.

               The conch horns blasted again. The Cyclopes parted, and Percy's father strode into the throne room in his battle armor, his trident glowing in his hands.

               "Tyson!" he roared. "Well done, my son. And, Percy—" His face turned stern. He wagged his finger at the boy, and for a second Elisa was afraid he was going to zap his own son. "I even forgive you for sitting on my throne. You have saved Olympus!"

               He held out his arms and gave Percy a hug. When the two pulled away, the god smiled kindly at his son.

               "Dad—?" Percy started to ask.

               Poseidon shushed him. "No hero is above fear, Percy. And you have risen above every hero. Not even Hercules—"

               "Poseidon!" a voice roared.

               Zeus had taken his throne. He glared across the room at the God of the Sea while all the other gods filed in and took their seats. Even Hades was present, sitting on a simple stone guest chair at the foot of the hearth. Nico sat cross-legged on the ground at his dad's feet.

               "Well, Poseidon?" Zeus grumped. "Are you too proud to join us in council, my brother?"

               Poseidon looked at Percy and winked. "I would be honored, Lord Zeus."

               The god strode over to his fishing seat. Elisa nudged Percy, giving him a bright smile. She mouthed, 'You okay?' He guessed he was more teary-eyed than he realized; he gave her a nod and led her over to the middle of the room.

               And the Olympian Council convened.

ˋˏ [ 👑 ] ˎˊ

As Zeus talked—some long speech about the bravery of the gods, blah, blah, blah; Elisa didn't care enough to pay attention—Annabeth walked in and stood next to her, Percy, and Grover. The daughter of Athena looked good for someone who had recently passed out.

               "Miss much?" she asked with a whisper.

               "Nobody's planning to kill us, so far," Percy whispered back.

               "Which is a first," Elisa added sourly.

               The son of Poseidon cracked up, but Grover nudged him as Hera was giving the four a dirty look.

               "As for my brothers," Zeus said, "we are thankful—" he cleared his throat, like the words were hard to get out—"erm, thankful for the aid of Hades."

               The Lord of the Dead nodded. He had a smug look on his face, but Elisa figured he had earned the right. He patted his son Nico on the shoulders, and the boy looked happier than she had seen him in a long time. Nico's eyes locked on her and his grin widened. She gave him a thumbs-up and a wide smile.

               "And, of course," Zeus continued, though he looked like his pants were smoldering, "we must ... um ... thank Poseidon."

               "I'm sorry, brother," the Sea God said. "What was that?"

               "We must thank Poseidon," Zeus growled. "Without whom ... it would've been difficult—"

               "Difficult?" Poseidon asked innocently.

               "Impossible," Zeus said. "Impossible to defeat Typhon."

               The gods murmured agreement and pounded their weapons in approval.

               "Which leaves us," Zeus said, "only the matter of thanking our young demigod heroes, who defended Olympus so well—even if there were a few dents in my throne."

               He called Thalia forward first, since she was his daughter, and promised her help in filling the Hunters' ranks.

               Artemis smiled. "You have done well, my lieutenant. You have made me proud, and all those Hunters who perished in my service will never be forgotten. They will achieve Elysium, I am sure."

               She glared pointedly at Hades.

               He shrugged. "Probably."

               The Goddess of the Moon glared at him some more.

               "Okay," Hades grumbled. "I'll streamline their application process."

               Thalia beamed with pride. "Thank you, my lady." She bowed to the gods, even Hades, and then limped over to stand by Artemis's side.

               "Tyson, Son of Poseidon!" Zeus called.

               The Cyclops looked nervous, but he went to stand in the middle of the council, and Zeus grunted.

               "Doesn't miss many meals, does he?" the god muttered. "Tyson, for your bravery in the war, and for leading the Cyclopes, you are appointed a general in the armies of Olympus. You shall henceforth lead your brethren into war whenever required by the gods. And you shall have a new ... um ... what kind of weapon would you like? A sword? An axe?"

               "Stick!" Tyson said, showing his broken club.

               "Very well," Zeus said. "We will grant you a new, er, stick. The best stick that may be found."

               Tyson cheered, and all the Cyclopes cheered and pounded him on the back as he rejoined them.

               "Grover Underwood of the satyrs!" Dionysus called.

               Grover came forward nervously. His hooves clopped loudly on the marble floor.

               "Oh, stop chewing your shirt," Dionysus chided. "Honestly, I'm not going to blast you. For your bravery and sacrifice, blah, blah, blah, and since we have an unfortunate vacancy, the gods have seen fit to name you a member of the Council of Cloven Elders."

               The satyr collapsed on the spot.

               "Oh, wonderful." The God of Madness sighed and rolled his eyes as several naiads came forward to help Grover. "Well, when he wakes up, someone tell him that he will no longer be an outcast, and that all satyrs, naiads, and other spirits of nature will henceforth treat him as a Lord of the Wild, with all rights, privileges, and honors—blah, blah, blah. Now, please, drag him off before he wakes up and starts groveling."

               "Food!" Grover moaned as the nature spirits carried him away.

               Elisa figured he'd be okay. Grover would wake up a Lord of the Wild with a bunch of beautiful naiads taking care of him. Life could be worse.

               Athena called, "Annabeth Chase, my own daughter."

               The blonde's eyes widened, but she stood taller and walked forward, and knelt at her mother's feet.

               The Goddess of Wisdom smiled. "You, my daughter, have exceeded all expectations. You have used your wits, your strength, and your courage to defend this city, and our seat of power. It has come to our attention that Olympus is ... well, trashed. The Titan lord did much damage that will have to be repaired. We could rebuild it by magic, of course, and make it just as it was. But the gods feel that the city could be improved. We will take this as an opportunity. And you, my daughter, will design these improvements."

               Annabeth looked up, stunned. "My—my lady?"

               Athena smiled wryly. "You are an architect, are you not? You have studied the techniques of Daedalus himself. Who better to redesign Olympus, and make it a monument that will last for another eon?"

               "You mean ... I can design whatever I want?"

               "As your heart desires," the goddess said. "Make us a city for the ages."

               "As long as you have plenty of statues of me," Apollo added.

               "And me," Aphrodite agreed.

               "Hey, and me!" Ares said. "Big statues with huge wicked swords and—"

               "All right!" Athena interrupted, raising a hand. "She gets the point. Rise, my daughter—official architect of Olympus."

               Annabeth rose in a trance and walked back toward Percy and Elisa.

               "Way to go," Percy told her, grinning.

               For once, the daughter of Athena was at a loss for words. "I'll—I'll have to start planning ... Drafting paper, and, um, pencils—"

               "Are you gonna pass out again?" Elisa teased. Annabeth glared at her but soon went back to her mind, surely envisioning what all she could create.

               "Elisa Bardales, Daughter of Dionysus," Zeus called.

               The girl flinched like the god was going to scold her for the teasing, but she steeled her shoulders and walked forward. Hestia smiled at the girl reassuringly. The goddess was in the form of a girl now, and she seemed happy and content to be sitting by her fire again. Her smile gave Elisa the courage to keep walking.

               Elisa first bowed to Zeus before turning to her father and kneeling. She stayed on one knee, even if it was wounding her pride more than she wanted to admit.

               Dionysus smiled down at her, a smile that was only reserved for his children.

               "You, my daughter," he started, "have shown great bravery. I must say, as your father, I am incredibly proud of you and all you have accomplished. Because I know you, I know you will not want anything I have to offer, but I still think you are deserving of something. I may not be able to offer something as grand as being the official architect for Olympus, but I can give you this."

               Elisa looked up curiously. Her father was right, she had what she wanted, for the most part at least—she had her life still. But Dionysus was pulling a golden bracelet out of the pocket of his dress pants. From where she was, Elisa saw two small charms on it but everything else was too small for her to see.

               Her brows furrowed. She stood up. "Dionysus?"

               The god looked at it for a moment before tossing it to her. Elisa caught it unceremoniously, turning it over in her hand. The charms she had seen were two theatrical masks, one carved with a gigantic grin, and the other with a heavy frown. The golden chain that held the masks had thin bands of what looked to be ivy vines curling through the chains.

               She stared at it silently before looking back up at her father. She didn't exactly want to ask what it was in front of the whole council. That seemed a little cruel—even for her.

               Dionysus seemed to know what she was thinking. "It will be with you. When you feel that everything else is lost."

               Maybe it was just her and her exhausted mind, but the daughter of Dionysus felt that her father wanted to add; "When I am unable to reach you."

               Elisa closed her fingers around the bracelet. Maybe it was her imagination but the bracelet felt like it was beating—beating to the pattern of a manic laugh. It was erratic and unpredictable. She tucked the bracelet into one of the pockets of her pants. There was a burning behind her eyes as she looked her father in the eye. Dionysus's face was unusually kind and soft.

               "Thank you," she said.

               "One last thing," Dionysus held up a hand before Elisa could start walking away. He waved the hand in a circular motion and a wreath of ivy appeared on the top of her head.

               The burning behind Elisa's eyes went away, and her face burned instead. She hurried back over to Percy and Annabeth. The son of Poseidon grinned at her, poking at the wreath on her head.

               "Nice crown," he whispered to her.

               Elisa scowled and ripped it off the top of her head. The ivy wreath struck the boy in the face, making him spit out some leaves.

               Before Percy could do anything, Poseidon's voice rang around the chamber: "Percy Jackson!"

               All talking died down. The room was silent except for the crackle of the hearth fire. Everyone's eyes were on the son of Poseidon—all the gods, the demigods, the Cyclopes, and the spirits. He walked into the middle of the throne room.

               First Percy bowed to Zeus. Then he knelt at his father's feet.

               "Rise, my son," Poseidon said.

               Percy stood uneasily.

               "A great hero must be rewarded," Poseidon said. "Is there anyone here who would deny that my son is deserving?"

               Elisa waited for someone to pipe up. The gods never agreed on anything, and many of them still didn't like the boy that stood in front of them, but not a single one protested.

               "The council agrees," Zeus said. "Percy Jackson, you will have one gift from the gods."

               The black-haired boy hesitated. "Any gift?"

               The king god nodded grimly. "I know what you will ask. The greatest gift of all. Yes, if you want it, it shall be yours. The gods have not bestowed this gift on a mortal hero in many centuries, but Perseus Jackson—if you wish it, you shall be made a god. Immortal. Undying. You shall serve as your father's lieutenant for all time."

               Elisa's heart sputtered to a stop. She stared at Percy with horror.

               Percy stared at Zeus, stunned. "Um ... a god?"

               The Lord of the Sky rolled his eyes. "A dim-witted god, apparently. But yes. With the consensus of the entire council, I can make you immortal. Then I will have to put up with you forever."

               Ares mused to himself quietly. "That means I can smash him to a pulp as often as I want, and he'll just keep coming back for more. I like this idea!"

               "I also approve," Dionysus spoke up, staring at his daughter intently.

               The son of Poseidon glanced back at the daughter of Dionysus after the god spoke. Elisa met his eyes and gave him a nod—though the action looked painful for her. As much as she didn't want to let him go ( even though he never truly belonged to her in the first place ), he deserved to be a god. Percy had done so much for the gods, sacrificed so much, and would have given his life to save them all.

               If anyone deserved immortality, it was Percy Jackson. Even if that meant Elisa would have to say goodbye to him—and forever.

               Percy was silent for a long time. But when he spoke, it was one word: "No."

               The council was silent. The gods frowned at each other like they must have misheard.

               "No?" Zeus said. "You are ... turning down our generous gift?"

               There was a dangerous edge to his voice, like a thunderstorm about to erupt. Elisa figured no one had ever turned down such an offer before.

               "I'm honored and everything," Percy promised. "Don't get me wrong. It's just ... I've got a lot of life left to live. I'd hate to peak in my sophomore year."

               The gods were glaring at the boy, but Elisa was grinning brightly. Her eyes shone like purple gems.

               "I do want a gift, though," Percy said. "Do you promise to grant my wish?"

               Zeus thought about this. "If it is within our power."

               "It is," said the black-haired boy said. "And it's not even difficult. But I need your promise on the River Styx."

               "What?" Dionysus cried. His eyes were cold and displeased. "You don't trust us?"

               "Someone once told me," Percy said, looking at Hades, "you should always get a solemn oath."

               The Lord of the Underworld shrugged. "Guilty."

               "Very well!" Zeus growled. "In the name of the council, we swear by the River Styx to grant your reasonable request as long as it is within our power."

               The other gods muttered assent. Thunder boomed, shaking the throne room. The deal was made.

               "From now on, I want you to properly recognize the children of the gods," Percy said. "All the children ... of all the gods."

               The Olympians shifted uncomfortably.

               "Percy," his father said, "what exactly do you mean?"

               "Kronos couldn't have risen if it hadn't been for a lot of demigods who felt abandoned by their parents," the son of the sea said. "They felt angry, resentful, and unloved, and they had a good reason."

               Zeus's royal nostrils flared. His cobalt blue eyes flashed dangerously. "You dare accuse—"

               "No more undetermined children," Percy interrupted. "I want you to promise to claim your children—all your demigod children—by the time they turn thirteen. They won't be left out in the world on their own at the mercy of monsters. I want them claimed and brought to camp so they can be trained right, and survive."

               "Now wait just a moment," Apollo said, but the demigod was on a roll.

               "And the minor gods," he added. "Nemesis, Hecate, Morpheus, Janus, Hebe—they all deserve a general amnesty and a place at Camp Half-Blood. Their children shouldn't be ignored. Calypso and the other peaceful Titan-kind should be pardoned, too. And Hades—"

               "Are you calling me a minor god?" the Lord of the Dead bellowed.

               "No, my lord," Percy said quickly. "But your children should not be left out, either. They should have a cabin at Camp. Nico has proven that. No unclaimed demigods will be crammed into the Hermes Cabin anymore, wondering who their parents are. They'll have their own cabins, for all the gods. And no more pact of the Big Three. That didn't work anyway. You've got to stop trying to get rid of powerful demigods. We're going to train them and accept them instead. All children of the gods will be welcome and treated with respect. That is my wish."

               Zeus snorted. "Is that all?"

               "Percy," Poseidon spoke, "you ask much. You presume much."

               "I hold you to your oath," the boy said. "All of you."

               The son of Poseidon got a lot of steely looks. Strangely, it was Athena who spoke up: "The boy is correct. We have been unwise to ignore our children. It proved a strategic weakness in this war and almost caused our destruction. Percy Jackson—I have had my doubts about you, but perhaps—" She glanced at Annabeth, and then spoke as if the words had a sour taste "—perhaps I was mistaken. I move that we accept the boy's plan."

               "Humph," Zeus said. "Being told what to do by a mere child. But I suppose ..."

               "All in favor," Hermes said.

               All the gods raised their hands.

               "Um, thanks," Percy said awkwardly.

               He turned, but before he could leave, Poseidon called, "Honor guard!"

               Immediately the Cyclopes came forward and made two lines from the thrones to the door—an aisle for the boy to walk through. They came to attention.

               "All hail, Perseus Jackson," Tyson said. "Hero of Olympus ... and my big brother!"

👑  APR. 3RD, 2023  /  i was always a little lost on what dionysus would say to elisa during this chapter but this makes a lot of sense for them

and what i wrote will come into play later :)))

also dionysus hating on percy is my favorite thing

lowkey i miss writing when elisa was hating on percy- now she is too soft on him and i miss her bullying him

anyways,, thoughts?? opinions??