𝐖𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐂! percy jackson

iv. Legacies

━━ chapter four
legacies

✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

━━Sometimes, Fiona wished Octavian would just drop down into the sewers and stay there. It would make all of their lives much easier, honestly. He would get along with the rats, considering he looks exactly like them: scrawny, small-eyed, nose twitching like he had whiskers and an annoying squeaky voice when he didn't get what he wanted.

The Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus was exactly that: the best and the greatest. The marble floor was etched with fancy mosaics and Latin prophetic inscriptions. Sixty feet above, the domed ceiling sparkled gold. The whole temple was opened to the wind. In the centre, stood a marble altar. Octavian was there doing his rituals in front of a massive golden statue of the King of the Gods, dressed in a silk purple toga, holding a lightning bolt.

"It doesn't look like that," muttered Percy suddenly.

Fiona and Hazel frowned at him. "Sorry?"

"The master bolt."

"What are you talking about?"

"I━" Percy frowned. For a second, he looked as though we would answer, but then it was gone. "Nothing, I guess."

Octavian raised his hands and more red lightning flashed in the sky, shaking the temple. Then he put his hands down, and the rumbling stopped. The clouds turned from grey to white and broke apart.

"What's he doing?" Percy muttered.

Octavian turned, giving them a crooked, crazed smile. In one hand, he held his knife, in the other was a ripped, stuffed toy. He still had a black eye from when Fiona punched him earlier today. She was satisfied to see it.

"Percy," Hazel introduced him, "this is Octavian."

"The graecus!" Octavian announced. "How interesting."

"Uh, hi," Percy watched him warily. "Are you killing small animals?"

Octavian glanced down at the stuffed teddy bear and let out a laugh, "No, no. Once upon a time, yes. We used to read the will of the gods by examining animal guts━chickens, goats, that sort of thing. Nowadays, we use these." He chucked the bear to Percy, who caught it.

He stared at it, and then the pile of mutilated stuffed animals at the foot of the statue. "Seriously?"

Octavian stepped off the dias. He approached Percy, who took a step back, cautious of him. Octavian narrowed his eyes. "You seem nervous."

"You remind me of someone," said Percy. "I can't remember who."

"Possibly my namesake, Octavian━Augustus Caesar. Everyone says I bear a remarkable resembance."

Fiona stifled her chuckle that turned into more of a cough. Octavian sent her an irritated look.

Percy was still watching him, as if scared he'd cut him instead of the teddy bears. "Why did you call me 'the Greek'?"

"I saw it in the auguries," Octavian waved his knife at the pile of stuffing at the altar. "The message said: The Greek has arrived. Or possible: The goose has cried. I'm thinking the first interpretation is correct. You seek to join the legion?"

(There it was again: Greek, Greek, Greek, Greek. Fiona didn't know Percy Jackson well, but she did know there was something strange about him. Something that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up).