"Safety?" I said, anger building in my veins. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I suddenly felt itchy everywhere. I gritted my teeth, "The Fury told me she thought I had something! The Minotaur almost killed me, for safety?"
The bouy closest to us groaned in the water, its orange tip bending downwards like an invisible giant was making origami out of it. A game notification popped up, reminding me to accept or decline the quest, but I quickly dismissed it. I didn't have time for that right now.
"Precisely," Poseidon paused slightly, taking a moment to close his eyes. They opened again, much calmer. "I do not agree with his methods—I argued with him quite a bit at first—but he was adamant that this was the only way to fool everyone. I hate to say it, but his...method…has merit. For one, keeping her in the Underworld has kept her out of harm's way. It's also better for us if, again, whoever the thief is thinks they're pulling one over on us."
"So, she's not dead?" I whispered. "No." Relief flooded into my body, alongside the paralyzing chill of anxiety. Do you know that ice-cold fear you feel coating your gut when you look in your pockets for keys and they aren't there? Or that feeling when the teacher comes around to collect homework and you left yours at home? Imagine that feeling but amplified by a million.
"After she told me she was pregnant, I offered to stop the tide for her," Poseidon whispered. I could've sworn I saw him age a few years in front of my own eyes. For a brief, fleeting moment, I found myself wondering what it must be like to live forever. To never die, never fade.
To just…exist, with all your triumphs and mistakes stretched out behind you like an endless tide. It didn't seem so fun anymore. Besides, despite the casual way we'd been talking, there was this undercurrent of tension I couldn't shake.
Somewhere deep in my heart, I was just starting to process the fact that this wasn't just any conversation—it was the conversation. My first meeting with my long-lost dad.
A dad who also happened to be one of the most powerful beings in existence. It was a lot to take in. I thought back to the myths we'd studied in Mr. Brunner's class, the stories of Greek heroes rising to meet their destinies, proving themselves worthy of their divine blood. But that wasn't me. Not yet, anyway.
My first quest wasn't about glory or greatness—it was about proving my innocence. And all the while, I'd be living under this impossible shadow of greatness. My father was someone who could reshape the Earth, who could bend the ocean to his will. And me?
I was just a kid trying to figure out where I fit in a world that expected me to be larger than life simply because he was. A part of me wished he could've been some boring old dad—an accountant, maybe.
Someone who spent his days buried in spreadsheets, whose biggest decision was whether to use a blue or black pen for his notes. He'd have a name like Bartholomew—and Bartholomew the accountant wouldn't have gods pointing fingers at him or centuries-old feuds dripping down onto his family.
He wouldn't leave me questioning what I was supposed to be or how I was supposed to measure up. No tidal waves of expectation, no world-shaking legacy to inherit.
No mothers to save from the Underworld. He'd just be a guy who'd grill burgers on the weekends, forget my soccer games, and send me off to college with a pat on the back. Poseidon sighed, "I wanted to build you and her a palace at the bottom of the sea. I could've solved all of her problems with a wave of my hand, given her the life she'd always wanted."
My heart started beating a little faster—I'd grown up thinking that my father didn't care about either of us, that he'd left us out to dry. "She isn't the type to take that sort of deal."
"I know." A few more moments passed. Poseidon sat up a little bit straighter. We'd been talking for close to an hour, now, and the Sun had almost completely set.
"My time here comes to an end, Perseus. I have to return to Atlantis. Take a week or two to train, and then ask Chiron for a quest. It won't be a lot, but it will at least give you a fighting chance. If my assumptions are correct, he will come to you during that time. If, for whatever reason, he does not approve, leave anyway. Time is of the essence, and we can't stay off the thief's trail for too long."
"Chiron? Oh, yeah. Right. Okay."
"If you need anything, step in the water, or send me an IM," He said, dropping a small brown bag in my lap. It clunked against my jeans as if there were little coins inside. Poseidon looked back at me. There was a different light in his eyes, not like the anger I'd seen before—it was pride.
"You will do well, Perseus. Whatever else you do, know that I am glad Fate has brought you back to me." And with that, the air seemed to fold and bend around him. He became a hologram, then a wind, and then he was gone, leaving only the smell of a pleasant sea breeze lingering behind.
"Alright, well, uh, it was good seeing you," I said to the air. "And, now I'm talking to myself. Again. I should stop. Stop it. Okay, now. I'm done."
I stood up, patting some dirt off my jeans. My eyes drifted to the spot he'd been standing in just a few seconds ago. Honestly, I was sort of glad he didn't try to hug me or something like that. He would've probably seemed like a human dad, making some lame excuse for not being around.
Despite what I said earlier about human dads being easier to accept, it would've been a major letdown if my long-lost dad was actually some lame accountant or something. I knew he still wasn't sure what to think of me. I could live with that. After all, I wasn't sure about him yet, either. I let the notifications pop back up.
— - —
~ You've unlocked a skill.
— - — — - —
[Skill]: Mana Manipulation
[System Denomination]: Active/Passive
[Attribute Group]: WIS
[Level]: 1 [Description]: Born from the surge of your emotions, this skill allows you to harness and shape the ambient mana around you. Crucially, the ferocity of your strikes and spells multiplies in direct proportion to your emotional intensity, reflecting the volatile nature of the energy you wield.
[Leveling]: At [Level 1], your mana control is fairly rudimentary: you can enhance simple attacks by infusing them with energy, and perform small push/pull maneuvers on lightweight objects. The more emotion you pour into your actions, the stronger (though less precise) the effects become.
— - —
Hm. Not bad. I picked up the bag—it was deceptively heavy. I peered inside and saw a small pile of golden coins. Jeez, dad. There were like fifty of them here!
— - —
{Drachma}
[Description]: The classic currency of Ancient Greece, [Drachma] are highly valued for both everyday transactions and special mystical services. While they can be spent on items and gear from merchants throughout Olympus, they're most commonly used to power Iris Messaging, allowing you to send communication across great distances.
— - —
Where was I supposed to put this? Oh. Wait. My life is a videogame now.
"Inventory?" The air in front of me warped, rippling like heat waves, until a massive, swirling vortex opened up. I hefted the small bag and dropped it in, watching it vanish into the portal as though it had never existed in my hands. A faint chime echoed, and in the top-right corner of my field of vision, an overlay appeared.
— - —
{Inventory}
Slot 1:
Bag of Drachma [x1]
Capacity: [1/20] slots used!
— - —
I blinked, momentarily startled by how natural the process felt—like second nature as if this wasn't the first time I'd used a pocket dimension to manage my stuff. With the bag safely stowed away, the portal closed, leaving the air still and unruffled, as if nothing had happened at all. I lingered on the dock for a few more minutes, letting the wood creak beneath me as the sky deepened from gold to a smoldering red.
The Sun, in its final moments before dipping below the horizon, bathed the entire valley in warm, scarlet light. The water glittered like liquid fire, its surface catching the glow and throwing it back into the sky.
"Oh good, you're ready," Annabeth said, her footsteps light against the dock's boards as she approached. A flicker of curiosity crossed her face when she realized I'd been at the Poseidon cabin, but she kept any questions to herself. If anything, she seemed quietly pleased—like she'd just worked out a minor puzzle.
"Let's go grab dinner."
The next morning, I woke up way earlier than I wanted to. My brain still felt like it was on a merry-go-round from the night before: Annabeth had taken me to dinner and introduced me to every camper in sight. Seriously, if there was a record for how many people you can meet in one evening, I was pretty sure I'd smashed it. By the time I flopped into bed, I could barely remember half their names. All I knew was that I'd never realized just how many demigods—and equally weird personality quirks—could exist in one place.
Only a few names stuck out—Luke, Clarisse, and Drew— because she was hot as hell—but you could hold a gun up to my head and I probably still wouldn't be able to tell you who's who. Again, besides Drew.
Phew. After dinner, Annabeth quietly pulled me aside, asking if I had any clue who my godly parent was. I'd only known her a day, but I already knew she was smart and strong—even if subtlety wasn't her strong suit. Still, she was my first friend here, and I trusted her enough not to spread rumors. So, I told her the truth. It was a good thing I did, too. She told me that I was the only son of Poseidon that the camp had seen basically ever.
The camp itself, according to her, was a pretty recent thing, too. It hadn't existed before the civil war. Based on how often the gods had been around, that seemed like not much time at all. After that, we sat by the campfire, and it was lights out. No one noticed that I went straight to the Poseidon cabin instead of the Hermes one, where I'm told all of the unclaimed kids went, and even if they did, I wouldn't have really cared.
After walking into the Poseidon one, there was no way you'd catch me anywhere else. I rubbed my eyes as a new notification popped up.
— - —
Quest Alert!
[SIDE QUEST] {The Civility of War!}
[Quest Prompt]: Camp Half-Blood's history is shrouded in rumor and half-truths. Some say it was built as a safe haven for demigods, others whisper of darker origins tied to ancient prophecies. What secrets do its cabins, boundaries, and wards truly protect?
Why was it created in the first place—and by whom? Your quest is simple yet daunting: uncover the real reason Camp Half-Blood exists. Each new clue you'll find will peel back another layer of myth, revealing a past far more complicated than any bedtime story.
[Total Possible Rewards]:
[?]
Please select: [YES/NO]
— - —
I mean, I guess. I clicked yes on the quest and accepted the one from last night, too.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
If you enjoyed this chapter, remember: every 300 power stones unlocks a bonus chapter, so your support really helps keep the story rolling. And if you want to go further, you can also support me on Patreon: patreon.com/Aurelius DBlack