End of the Line

#45 - The Losses of War

Chapter 45 - The Losses of War
published: Wednesday, 4 December 2019

"Why?" Percy demanded, his voice travelling as he breathlessly raced up the hill. He came to halt behind Apate and Dolos, who paused from surveying the battlefield to look at him. "Why did you do it? The fake memory? It reeks of you."

The tall, skinny figures rotated to face him. Apate regarded him with a sneer. "Ah, so you found out."

"It was hard," Dolos droned. "One of our finest pieces of trickery, and we couldn't take credit for it."

"But why?" Percy said desperately, trying to understand. "Amusement to us struggle with each other? Do you take pleasure in watching our hearts break?"

"Please," Apate scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. It was under our master's orders. Break apart the beloved couple — break apart the Seven. It's simple politics, Perseus. Nothing personal."

Percy ground his teeth. "Nothing personal?" he growled.

"Of course, politics means nothing now," Dolos said with a nonchalant yawn. "I'm afraid it's a battle. And we have to kill you now. Again, nothing personal."

Both gods vanished into thin air, causing alarm bells to go off in his head.

A massive blow struck Percy from behind, sending him sprawling to the ground. His vision thundered, the image of Dolos blurry and shaky.

"The Curse of Achilles protects you, demigod," Dolos scowled. "But we'll find the spot eventually, don't you worry."

Percy scrambled to his feet, his stomach churning like he was about to throw up. He raised a hand instinctively, and he felt the flat of Dolos' materialised sword slash at his palm.

Percy coughed as his vision swayed once more. Blood spattered in his hand as he hacked up blood.

"The last fall of Percy Jackson," Dolos mused with a smirk. "Let's kill you properly this time."

Just as he flinched away from the god, a flying lump of metal slammed into Dolos, crashing away from Percy.

"Clarisse!" he said in disbelief.

The daughter of Ares fought like a whirlwind of violence and destruction. Her electric spear swivelled in the air skilfully as she jabbed Dolos in the thigh and slammed the minor god into the ground.

She grunted gruffly when Dolos crumpled to the ground. Clarisse threw a glance over her shoulder. "Thought you needed some help," Prissy."

Percy couldn't suppress his smile. "Thanks. It's good to—" His words were cut off when Clarisse flung her arms around him, hugging him so tightly his ribs nearly cracked.

His mouth hung open in stunned astonishment. "Are you—"

"Not a word, you idiot," Clarisse muttered.

When she withdrew, the two demigods exchanged small grins in the middle of a grave battle. It was the reunion of two old friends who'd never truly agreed on anything except their friendship.

Their was a crack of a whip as Apate materialised in front of them, her face twisted in a dangerous scowl.

Gesturing to the god, Percy said, "So, ready to kill a god?"