"Sorry about Triton," My dad told me as he walked me to my room.
I could tell he felt bad. Kind of like I was before [Gamer's Mind] came along, he wasn't the best at hiding his emotions when it came to people he cared about. "I wasn't expecting that."
The ceremony ended ages ago. After getting over the initial shock of his singing son, my dad just shook his head and blasted me with that large mass of mana. It didn't hurt. Actually, it felt a lot like a warm hug. That feeling I'd gotten earlier when I smashed through the glassy dome of Atlantis was gone, and instead, I felt completely and utterly weightless. I couldn't feel my body unless I actively tried to.
Which was weird. But, at the same time, it was kind of amazing. I felt like I could move faster, jump higher. That whole shtick. And, well, now I had a decent idea of why my dad called me down here instead of training me above the ground. I got the sense that we'll get a lot more done down here.
Soon after, Poseidon quickly called an end to the dinner, and everyone else quite literally just disappeared. One moment, the table was completely full, and the next, it was empty, as if someone had just shut off a switch somewhere. I guess they all had stuff to do. Triton stayed behind, only to fling some mashed potatoes at me while I was still kneeling and then run away, giggling madly.
I don't know if he actually used his powers, or what, but the glob hit me squarely in the face, even when I tried to dodge it or put up a water wall. The worst part was that it just wouldn't come off. My dad literally had to blast me with his trident a few times. Even then, some of the—you know what, I don't want to talk about that anymore.
The two of us walked through the hallways of his palace. My eyes caught the random pulse of jellyfish somewhere off toward the ceiling. It was sort of jarring to see the sea life so incorporated into everyday life. Or any animals, really. When was the last time you saw an animal floating around your house for no reason?
Down here in Atlantis, not only were the animals just randomly moving around, but they also had functional use. You know those scary-looking fish with the little guiding light in front of their heads? As we walked, I saw some of the servants in the palace use those as torches.
I held back my annoyance and just gave Poseidon a smile, "It's no problem. Really."
"Thank you, son," Poseidon smiled back. Some of the tension seeped out of his shoulders. A few of the spirits from before turned, bowing for a moment before scurrying off. "Still…I had guards positioned all around his room. It's surprising to me that he got through."
"Why?" I said, my voice trailing off. I couldn't put what I was thinking into words without sounding at least a little bit rude. It was hard enough to vocalize what I wanted to vocalize, and it didn't help that there were about a dozen different questions I had: Why is he like that? Why didn't you want him at the ceremony? Why does he know Elton John? Why is he so good at throwing mashed potatoes around? The last two aren't as important as the other two. Well, to me, they are, but in the grand scheme of things...eh?
"We'll talk inside," Poseidon's relaxed smile faltered for a moment as we stopped in front of an ornately welded bronze door. "Away from...prying ears."
He waved his hand, and the door slid open with a SHINK!
"This is your room," he said.
As far as bedrooms go, it wasn't bad at all. The floor was the same as the outside of the palace, and the walls were a plain shade of navy blue. I think there was a picture frame of a dolphin by one of the two windows, which overlooked the city.
There was a small Queen-sized bed towards the middle of the far wall, and a dresser and bedside table facing it. There was a little dolphin plushie on the pillow. To tell you the truth, I wasn't particularly wowed away by the room until I saw the stuffed animal. As silly as it sounds, it made me feel like Poseidon actually went out of his way to do all of this, you know?
No one else could've known about my love for dolphins, and no one else would've gone through the trouble of getting me the exact plushie I used to have as a kid. I sat down on my bed, my body sinking into the soft material. My hands ran through the bedsheets, patting down the soft, velvet-like feel of them. How things change. I would've given anything for a bed like this a year ago. "I like it," I said honestly.
I wasn't one for dramatics or flashiness. I mean, I'm here to learn from my dad, right? I don't need a five-star hotel room for that. I could be put in the stables, for all I care.
Poseidon gave me a stiff nod, and I couldn't help but ask, "Is something wrong?" Poseidon attempted a smile, but it was a poor disguise, and we both knew it. I'm not sure when I got so good at reading him, but this time it wasn't even a challenge. That look—forced and weary—I recognized it instantly. I'd seen it too many times on my mom's face after a long day of work.
Poseidon sighed, "Honestly, Percy, I'm nervous."
"Nervous?" What could make a god nervous? "About what?"
"I fear I haven't been completely honest with you," Poseidon exhaled slowly. Worry lines creased his forehead. "About why I called you down here, I mean."
The bed suddenly didn't feel as soft as before. There was a slight groan from outside, and half of the room was darkened by the shadow of a passing whale. I stared at him. "You haven't?"
"Not entirely. I do want to train you. I do want you here. But…well," Poseidon took a deep breath. He sagged a bit, and in that moment, he looked ancient. "You see, son, something terrible happened seventy years ago. A horrible, costly, war."
"Sure," I replied, "The Second World War. The Allied Powers and the Axis Powers fought for, like, six years. It ended with the Allies winning."
"Almost," Poseidon said, his normally bright eyes darkening slightly. "The story told in those books, my son, has been doctored. World War II was, in fact, a mammoth fight between the children of Zeus and Poseidon on one side and the children of Hades on the other."
"Hitler," I blinked as my brain immediately connected the dots. I caught my dad's embarrassed nod. "He was Uncle Hades' son, wasn't he?"
"We told him not to go clubbing that night," My dad muttered under his breath. "Germany had just been crippled by the First World War, though. Misery, pain, starvation—every sort of strife that could befall a country was running rampant in Germany."
I snorted. "In other words, it was basically calling to him."
"Precisely," Poseidon agreed, a small chuckle finding its way out of him. "Hades went there to 'vacation,' as he put it. You know, collect a few souls, cause crops to go bad, whisper in the ears of the sinful that will eventually belong to his domain."
"How does that explain Hitler, though?" I interjected, raising an eyebrow. "Hitler was an adult around this time."
"Hitler wasn't a biological son of Hades. Truthfully, Hitler was a legacy. His maternal grandmother and grandfather had been children of Nemesis and Morpheus, respectfully. Hitler found Hades in the midst of a night of debauchery," My dad told me. I could feel him start to get a bit angry. "He convinced Hades to give him his staff. Then, he wielded it to start the war."
"Why didn't Hades just take it back? And also uncle isn't the god of war." I pointed out. Frowning, I continued, "And how does that lead to Hitler being adopted?"
"The staff can only be wielded by Hades and his children. It's backward logic, but since Hitler convinced your uncle to lend him that power, it also means that he was adopted. The staff made it so. It's the same process that Hestia did with you. You convinced her you were the best of us, and that you'd fight for your family. Hitler just did the same thing."
I nodded. "I get it. The staff can only be used by Hades and his children. Hitler is using it, ergo, he's a child of Hades." Ugh. Thinking about it again is giving me a headache. Olympians and their logic. If it were me, I'd never leave something so important in an open-ended way. This is the kind of lame thing I find it so hard to look past. What's the point of having all this power and millennia of experience if it means you still make screw-ups like that?
"Don't judge your uncle too harshly," Poseidon warned, seeing through my words. I mean, I guess he is my dad for a reason. "The process of creating a weapon for a god involves a phenomenon called a mana condition. Basically, you seal away your will into a weapon and swear to use it in certain ways, and that heavily boosts its power. It's a bit complicated to explain right now, but I promise we'll dive in at some point. The point I was trying to reach, is, most godly weapons have a familial condition."
He tossed me his trident, which I caught out of the air. It was like holding a Taser. I felt my fingers hum with energy as they wrapped around the base of the trident. "Whoa…"
"You feel the power, I trust?" Poseidon said coyly, a small smile forming at the former of his mouth. The smile was wiped away a moment later. "Imagine what you could do with that much power."
"Too much," The trident's tips pooled with green energy. It was like a mana battery. Not only did it heighten my own power, but it, in turn, used that power to get stronger, itself. It was a cycle, that if left unchecked, could give me infinite power. "This is insane."
"Hades could not recover his own weapon, due to Hitler's influence. The staff gave him the ability to mask his presence from higher beings," Poseidon continued. A small wince crossed over his face. "With the staff, he could bestow power to mortals. Pretty soon, he had an entire army of pseudo-demigods. We had to send our own children to recover it."
"You don't need to keep going," I said softly. It didn't take a genius to figure out what happened next. What I was curious about, though, was how they won. Maybe Zeus and Poseidon gave their own children their symbols of power…
"The events of World War II resulted in a pact," My dad said. "The Big Three decided to not sire any more children. They just kept affecting the course of history too much, oftentimes changing it for the worse."
"How so?" I wondered out loud. "How do they affect the course of history? I mean, I get that Hitler started this war, but weren't your children just dragged in to clean up what he was doing? How could they be held accountable?"
"Life, especially as a god, is not about what's fair. Sometimes, it's about doing what's right for the betterment of those around you," Poseidon took a deep breath. I knew whatever he was going to tell me next was big. "Around this time, the Oracle of Delphi gave a prophecy: A half-blood of the eldest gods shall reach sixteen against all odds. And see the world in endless sleep. The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. A single choice shall end his days, Olympus to preserve or raze…"