The Exiled

Ch. 18

Ch. 18

Perseus sat on a pure black throne on Mount Othrys. He was alone with the exception of Atlas, who stood several yards away in the far corner of the throne room as he continued to struggle under the weight of the sky, grunting and groaning in pain as while held the the primordial god of the sky at bay. The general had long since tired of cursing Perseus out from under his burden and simply focused on not letting the lust of Ouranos crush him as he strained to embrace his beloved Gaea once again.

The God of Night's face was distracted, his thoughts drifting to the past as his mind often did. Like so many times before, his memory replayed his battle with Zeus, recalling the events that led to his defeat, watching the scene over and over again. It was a memory he'd recounted a million times before and just as with every other time, he felt his heart break as he watched the end of the battle play out in his mind. He had been mere seconds from victory and becoming king of the gods when it had happened. No matter how many years passed, he couldn't erase that memory. It felt burned into his brain, forcing him to relive the moment he lost everything over and over again. The memory was like a scar on his immortal soul, never letting him forget the moment when his destiny was changed forever.

He shook his head, trying to force himself to think about anything but that memory.

He sighed deeply, looking around the room of half reformed thrones. This wasn't where he wanted to be. The titan palace was a thing of the past. It was ancient history. There was no power in ruling this place. Those fools Kronos and Atlas thought they could resurrect the power of the titan stronghold but their dreams were injudicious. A desperate hope to bring back the days of titan dominance, which was always destined to fail. Too much time had passed. The titans were relics in the minds of mortals and could never truly reclaim their former glory and replace the gods like Zeus had done to them millennia earlier.

He was on the wrong side of the country. His true home was on the other side of the United States. His old throne had been taken by that fool Dionysus, though he didn't really hold any ill will against the wine god.

No, his real throne was currently occupied by the being he hated more than any other in the cosmos. His father, Zeus, had somehow managed to hold onto to power in the millennia he'd been imprisoned in Tartarus. He should have fallen all those years ago if it hadn't been for her.

His blood boiled at the thought of his wife. Despite everything that happened, the truth was that she still held that title. No matter how much he loathed her very existence, it didn't change the fact that she was still his wife, at least technically.

He was pulled from his memories when he felt a powerful presence appear in the throne room. He was pleased to see the shadows solidify in the back of the in the far wall of the room as Hades stepped out of the darkness and walked towards where Perseus was seated in his throne.

"Perseus," the God of the Underworld said respectfully.

"Uncle," Perseus smiled, "What news do you have?"

"Nico and Bianca have confirmed the way is clear. It is time to launch our attack on Camp Half Blood."

Perseus looked up at his uncle and gave him a small smile. The backing of Hades had been essential to his plans. Like him, Hades had been an outcast of Olympus. But as the oldest son of Kronos, Hades had more of a right to challenge Zeus than Perseus could ever dream of. Yet, to his relief and surprise, Hades had immediately agreed to join him, not wishing for anything but a chance to take his rightful place on a new council of immortals.

"Good... Good.." Perseus rose from his throne, stepping down to approach his fellow god. "Do you still wish for Nico and Bianca to lead our forces into battle?"