Beauty/Tragedy | Percy Jackson

Burn his mortality

SAPPHO: "THE BROTHERS POEM"

A large and well preserved portion of a new poem by Sappho was discovered on a papyrus from a private collection and published by Dirk Obbink in early 2014, and dubbed by him "The Brothers Poem":

... But you're always chattering that Kharaxos
comes, his ship with fully stuffed hold. As to that,
Zeus and the gods only know, but these thoughts should
not be in your head.

Instead let me go, having been commanded
to offer many prayers to Hera the Queen,
that his undamaged ship should deliver up
Kharaxos to us

here, finding us safe and serene. And as for
the rest of it, to higher spirits leave it
now, for calm seas often follow after the
squalling of a storm;

for those who's fortunes they of Olympos send
a spirit to turn from utter disaster
into joy, are in receipt of great blessings
and prosperity.

And if Larikhos raises his head to the
fullest, and he shall therefore become a man,
from this heavy-weighing depression we shall
lift up ours and stand.

"Brother." Perseus' head shot up in surprise.

Kymopoleia laughed, amused. Such a mortal reaction for someone so close to godhood.

"Kymopoleia," he breathed, "You scared me."

The goddess hummed and walked around the table, looking at the mess of scrolls and books. She ruffled his hair, and the impertinent demigod slapped her hand away.

Kymopoleia narrowed her eyes. Perseus chuckled, nervousness trickling in his voice, "Sorry."

She ignored it. "I was here to make an offer." The goddess noticed him tense. "I will teach that girl how to fight and in return I want your time."

Perseus was quick to understand that she had been eavesdropping. "Why?" He asked.

"I'm worried about you." She glided, "You fainted trying to get control over your powers. I would hate it to happen again."

"So, you will teach me."

She grinned, showing her shark like teeth, "Yes! And in return for your time, I will bless the mortal, so she can protect herself when the situation demands it."

A thoughtful look was on his face and his eyes tracked her movements suspiciously. When Kymopoleia lost her patience, she spoke, "No strings attached. Now, what is your decision?"

She would not take no for an answer anyways.

"Situations." He repeated, "They have taught me all I know."

Perseus pinned her with a piercing gaze. "But" a smile started to form on his face, "I think I would like if someone were there to teach me."

The storm goddess gave him a soft smile akin to the calmest emotion a sea of storms can muster. "Get up! Get up!"

His eyes widened, "What? Now?!"

"Yes! And don't slouch."

"I don't slouch."

Percy fell face first.

The goddess laughed. Rude.

Still, he got up --at least tried to --all while his muscles screaming at him to not move. He was grinning, not wanting to show the struggle.

"Again."

He kept in mind what new he had learned. The sea does not like to be restrained. So many times, his father had repeated those words, but he never understood.

The sea did not like to be told of the authority; she did not want to listen to commands; simple words were enough to sway the waters. The sea was greedy after all.

Follow me, he thought. You will be free. Let me guide you out of these prisons.

The water burst up, eager to obey him and to get out of the flow of the stream.

He laughed, knowing that this was far easier. He almost did not feel any pain in his gut. Just a thought was enough to control the element, it had never felt so natural, so effortless before.

Kymopoleia was ruthless in her teachings. She would not care if he bled to his death, "Get up!" She would shout. She would taunt him until he would want to get up just to prove her wrong.

He was a brilliant swordsman, but the same could not be said for his experience with other weapons.

He gripped the trident in his hands, trying to remember the different maneuvers he had learned till then. The weapon felt balanced in his hand, but that was not enough. With her godly speed, Kymopoleia was a blur of movements and Percy was left to defend himself the way he had learned to with a sword; being forced into the circumstance.

By the end of the week, he would say he was proud to make it that far. He had to jinx it.

The day's training ended with a long gash on his arm, a scratch on his shin and ugly red and purple wounds blooming on his torso. But nothing nectar and ambrosia could not heal.

His sister was ruthless, but she was also gentle. She brought him a glass of nectar as he dragged himself to sit on a stair.

"Do you want me dead?"

Kymopoleia froze, her face turning a shade of gold. "What?!" She blinked in shock, registering his words. "Why would you say that?"

He eyed the glass full of nectar she had handed him. "Perhaps you have forgotten, but I am mortal. This could burn me from inside out."

The goddess scoffed. "Who do you think you are?"

Perseus looked confused.

"You are far more divine than any half-blood I've seen before. This much of nectar would not do any harm."

Perseus looked doubtful but did not say anything. Kymopoleia poured some nectar on his open wounds, healing the blood seeping gash immediately, leaving only a faint scar.

"Perseus," she said exasperated, noticing he still had the glass of nectar in his hands. "Drink it." He did not question her this time. He tipped his head back as he drowned the contents, looking a bit shaky.

Kymopoleia noticed the gold trimming the green of his eyes. She hummed, handing him some cubes ambrosia. "Here, eat this." He obeyed without any objection, munching on the square of godly food she had summoned casually.

The storm goddess smiled and stepped away from her brother. "Apollo." She whispered a summon.

The training room filled with bright light.

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