Galatea lifted the glass to her lips, the clear liquid catching the warm light of the room. The tequila slid smoothly down her throat, sharp and clean, and she exhaled softly.
"… Oh God's that's nice," she admitted. As smile formed on her face.
Madam Moon smiled faintly, the lines at the corners of her eyes deepening with memory. "I've been around a very long time," she said calmly. "The least I can do is learn how to choose good liquor. Tequila reminds me of Mexico. Now those were some of the best years of my life."
Samira smiled at her mother, then turned her attention back to Galatea. "So," she said gently, "what's your story?"
Galatea leaned back, glass resting loosely in her fingers, preparing to speak—
While Kainos was dreaming, or rather drifting in a vision. Darkness stretched endlessly around him, a vast void with no ground, no sky. Then a voice slithered through the silence, smooth and ancient.
You must be angry… Angry that you lost. Angry that you didn't get to feast on her blood.
Kainos tensed. "Who's there?" he demanded. A soft chuckle echoed. A friend… perhaps family. I know your pain.
The memory came rushing back—water filling his lungs, the crushing pressure, the sudden darkness. The swamp nymph Nia had drowned him. Which meant… he still lost.
Kainos steadied himself, breathing slowly. He closed his eyes and imagined a point of light forming in the darkness.
A small orb appeared and began to glow.
The voice sharpened, growing clearer—male, ancient, heavy with authority and arrogance. Kainos
knew it now. He felt it in his bones.
No.
He spoke swiftly, chanting in Haitian Creole, his voice steady and sharp.
"O move lespri, mwen chasse ou. Ou pa akeyi isit la. Mwen rele zansèt mwen yo pou pwoteksyon,
epi Latè ak Lalin pou pouvwa."
(Oh wicked spirit, I cast you out. You are not welcome here. I call upon my ancestors for protection,
and upon Earth and Moon for power.)
The orb flared bright silver-white, expanding until it resembled a full moon suspended in the void. Moonlight flooded the darkness.
The voice hissed. Selene… here? But how— Then something else stirred. A presence darker than the abyss itself slipped into the dream, vast and oppressive. Kainos didn't see it—but the voice did.
You too, N—
The presence vanished as Kainos jolted awake. Sweat covered his face. When he looked around he noticed he was in his bed room. He wiped his face as, a name came to his mind instantly.
"…Cronos," he muttered.
Great. The Titan is making his move on me already. I need to ward my mind against him invading my dreams. I still can't believe I'm actually in the Percy Jackson universe.
He swung his legs over the bed, muscles still screaming in protest. His body ached deeply all over. As he examined his body their were no scars, but something inside him felt bruised and strained. The last thing he remembered was the sensation of drowning. Nia's doing probably. God I hate drowning.
She's the reason he doesn't like to swim as much. Then Kainos glanced at the clock. It read 5:45 am. He then looked out his window. The sky outside his window was just beginning to lighten.
"Looks like I need to start studying mental wards, later" he muttered. "If I want that old man out of my head."
Kainos stepped into the living room, to a surprising sight. His mother and grandmother and were passed out on the couch, with empty glasses on the coffee table ,and a empty liquor bottles next to them.
The woman Galatea was sleeping peacefully in a hammock by the window, one arm draped over her eyes. All three ladies were knocked out hard.
Kainos sighed as he recognized the empty tequila bottle on the coffee table. "…Great. They did it again. I will be lucky if they wake up before noon."
He quietly returned to his room, and changed his clothes. When he came out he was in brown cargo pants and a black t-shirt. He then headed to the kitchen. By the time the sun peak slightly past the horizon, the scent of food filled the house.
Veggie omelets sizzled on the stove. Salmon cooked gently beside them. Perfectly cooked Steak strips rested on a cutting board. While Coffee brewed strong and dark. The smell woke the house.
"Kainos… you cooked again?" His mom asked groggily, sitting up. "Yes, Mom," he replied easily. "I didn't know what our guest would like, so I made options."
Grandma stood, stretching. "Such a good boy," she said warmly. "I'll take it from here."
Kainos sighed inwardly. Translation: I will eat everything you cooked.
Moon smirked. "Since you did all the work, Mr. Chef, take the day off from chores. Our guest will have plenty for you to do once she wakes."
Samira, already eating, laughed softly. "I don't know many women, demigod or not, who can keep up with us drinking."
Kainos glanced at Galatea. He thought about waking her up. But something about her made his instincts itch. Like it was saying don't get to close.
He turned to his mother. "She told you why she's here, right?"
Then moms expression hardened. "Yes. Do you have questions for me?" He thought of plenty, but he knew how parents like to shelter their kids. I could ask how she met dad, or why I never seen any monsters growing up. Or the big one. Why she never let him leave New Orleans.
"No," he said honestly. "Not right now." He paused. "Actually… do we have books on mental warding?"
Moon and Samira exchanged a look. "Why?" Samira asked quietly. " Are you getting visions? Or hearing intruders?"
"Both" Kainos said carefully. "Probably nothing or maybe a rival covens prank… I just don't want to take chances." He said not to concern the two.
Samira nodded. hiding her worry. "I'll bring you a book later. When Galatea wakes, she'll take you to Miss Ramona. She can teach the wards since the mind is her discipline."
"Okay. Thank you." Kainos said.
He smiled politely. "Enjoy the food ladies," he said in Creole French, as he kissed his mother and grandmothers cheeks, then stepped outside to the backyard past the patio. It was vast and alive with flowers, herbs, a fire pit, and beyond that, trees fading into a swamp. Protective sigils hummed softly in the air.
Kainos exhaled. Looking at the magical sigils pointing to the training ground.
I really need to make a spell for navigation. This sense of direction problem is criminal. He Began walking while following the sigils, that were used a place markers. He has been doing this enough to get use to it , but sometimes he still gets lost. The tree and water nymphs and dryads would wave to him and point him in the right direction. Some would even hold his hand and direct him.
The girls and ladies would always giggle at me. Saying things like. I'm so cute, or handsome. some asked me to marry them in the future. I had to turn them down, but we always were on good terms.
He reached the training area: as three massive wooden posts embedded deep in the ground stood.
"Alright," he muttered. "Let's do this." He then dropped and began doing push-ups.
In New York, inside a dim dive bar, Ares leaned back in his chair, boots crossed, sunglasses on indoors. A smoking-hot redheaded waitress with a name tagged Sophie delivered drinks. He slid her a hundred-dollar bill. "Thanks, doll."
That put a smile on her face. "Let me know if you need anything else," she purred.
"Will do."
There sat the Goddess of divine Retribution Nemesis, and the Goddess of Victory Nike sat across from him. Nike was tall and fierce, dark braids framing her face. "Why are we here, Ares, and where's Aphrodite?"
"Relax," Ares said. " Were here for business. And she is busy with her own. But were here to discuss a prophecy,"
Nemesis leaned forward, her raven hair cascading, her golden eyes were sharp. " I would ask which prophecy, but knowing you, you mean the prophecy of, The Son of Blood."
Ares smirked. "Caught on quick Neme."
Nemisis scowled at Ares. "Don't ever call me that."
Ares just shrugged.
Nike stiffened. "Ares. Are you trying to overthrow your father? That's what this is about isn't it."
"Easy Nike," Ares said. " It's nothing like that, well for now at least. I'm just planning."
Nemesis tilted her head. " I doubt that's not what you want. We wouldn't be here if you didn't want a alliance of some kind. I have a theory, you want to protect this son of blood. He must be your bastard demigod spawn."
"Two for two," Ares said approvingly. "But it's bigger than that." He subtly caught sight of two bar patrons who were day drinking. He could feel the anger and rage they were holding back. Deep underneath waiting to be unleashed. He then sent a nudged of divine influence. Which caused the two men to jump into a fistfight.
After a minute of fighting back and forth. The red head waitress came in and kicked one man in the balls, and hit the other with a tray. She proceeded to grab them by the ears, while twisting them. She then kicked them out and screamed.
"Sober up or don't come back. I'm charging you both double for the inconvenience!" The bar crowd cheered for the waitress.
Ares smiling on the side looked back to the goddess's of vengeance and victory.
"What I want," Ares continued, "is a change in the world order. The status quo is boring and dry, Some gods stood at the top to long, while other lesser gods suffer. They slowly wait to be remembered or fade into the shadows. Like Helios. "
He reached into his pocket and placed a silver moon symbol on the table.
Nemesis and Nike's eyes widened.
"That can't be? Has she returned, but how is that possible." Nemesis asked.
Ares smiled. " Maybe she is, maybe she isn't. But do you think you're my only options ladies?" Ares said. "My partner is out recruiting, it's mostly a goddess and Witch thing. While I will be off on the side doing my own thing."
Nike and Nemesis exchanged looks.
"Three shots," Ares called to the redhead. " Make mine a double."
Nemesis nodded slowly. "I'm in. But you have to guarantee me a seat at the table. I will no longer be overlooked or sidelined."
Ares nodded. "It's done, that was gonna happen either way."
Nike hesitated. "I need time."
"Don't take too long," Ares said. "Kid's grow fast. You need to know where your gonna stand soon, or else you will lose."
Nikes eyes narrowed. "I never lose."
The waitress returned. Ares handed her and Nemesis a shot. "To Neme joining the gang."
"You guys in a biker gang or something?" she asked.
"Something like that."
They drank their shots, and place them on the table. Ares stood and spoke to the Waitress. "Meet me in the back in five?"
She smirked. "How about one?"
"Deal." Ares smiled.
As he walked away, Nike stared at the ceiling.
"… If his son does win. This will be a bloody victory. And no one will walk away from it clean."