The Sea's Serpent

The City of Tartarus

Time: Next Day

This was the last test. So far, all four have been successful. So, right now, if Percy and Perses passed this test, then the former would be FREE! He could have all the time in the world for himself, Calypso, Artemis and Athena.

Percy did not think that he would be able to complete everything in a month. But he did. So, good.

He appeared outside the only hospitable sector of Tartarus. It was pretty big, but still small compared to the entirety of the realm. He should know. He had been there, right at the centre.

Percy looked around, trying to take all the sights in. The atmosphere was as oppressive as the Fields of Punishment. Snow had been left behind in Artemis' care, she did not want to come to Tartarus. The heat made Percy's skin prick like small needles, and beads of sweat rolled down his forehead. The landscape was desolate, but still not the absolute hell that was the inner circles. This was like a rocky desert, with eternal night. The wind carried the dust and sand in a violent draught, and the sharp rocks crunched underneath Percy's metal boots. The air was stale, and made it hard to breathe, and barely a few steps later, Percy was breathing heavily. Those who were used to this were not bothered, but he had returned in like.... a few years. A few years of war.

Percy shrugged, taking his cloak off and sending it back to Ogygia. Trudging forward, he made for the barracks, which was the only building here, apart from Perses' throne room.

A few rifts spouted magma, which steamed and bubbled, sending forth even more poisonous gases. The lava flowed sluggishly along the plain, meandering in long stretches. A few Cyclopes were mining these solidified lava stretches for building materials. Hellhounds chased each other playfully, snapping with jaws the size of a child, each tooth as big as a banana. A few empousai and dracenae slithered along the path, their scales sounding like metal against the sharp rocks. They did not seem bothered much by it, only seeming irritated when one snagged in their scales. A lone telkhine was collecting water from the Phlegethon, which was flowing close by. A few monsters were trying to navigate the holy river, sitting in boats of metal, with their masts high. A flock of drakons were snoring on the neighbouring plain. Harpies flowed overhead.

In short, it was monster haven.

Tartarus kept them sustained constantly, the water from the Phlegethon healing any injuries or ailments.

Percy navigated up the dirt path that led to the throne room, turning heads as he went by. The monsters dropped whatever they were doing to bow low to him as he passed, promptly ignored by the indifferent Titan. At one point, Percy passed a cave with something gold glinting inside. He peeped in, and lo and behold, it was the Nemean Lion snoring inside.

Percy popped his head back out, inspecting some caves as he went.

The monsters were now housed in caves, which they had lived in since the start of monsterkind. But these were not ordinary caves. Finding caves in Tartarus was a challenge in itself. Finding so many caves so that the monster population could live close to each other? Impossible.

Besides, the natural caves of Tartarus were inhospitable. Frequent landslides, lava vents, rat infestations, and randomly dropping sharp stones always posed a threat.

So, all the Cyclopes and the monsters themselves worked together under supervision to build artificial caves in a cluster close to the river Phlegethon. It was an endless ocean of igloo-like domes, each with an acid-proof mortar and rock dome, because of the frequent acid rains here. The harpies had been housed in a massive nest made of straw and hay, while the drakons had rejected housing altogether.