A trail of blood served as evidence of Perseus' struggled in the woods. He pushed himself forward, limping and grimacing at every step, all while applying pressure on the stab wounds on his chest. He didn't know why but the campers just started stabbing him. Well, he might know a little.
A month ago, just weeks after the Second Giant War, a new demigod turned up at the camp. A son of Zeus by the name of Pace Watson. At first, he was a good kid. The first five seconds. Then he got into some fantasy that since he's a child of the king of the gods, he should be the one leading the camp. Despite having no worthy achievements. Nobody batted an eye at the start but, days past people had just suddenly grew suspicious of Perseus. Accusing him of stealing things he didn't even knew existed, doing things he doesn't have any idea what, and worst of all, the demigods who were stupid enough to listen to the new kid's words accused Perseus of treason. That he was working with and for the Giants all along. It was an absurd claim, yes, but for some reason people believed it. People and gods. One of them, was his mother.
Those who remained loyal to the son of Poseidon were shunned and of course, because of his nature, the guy decided to push his remaining friends away. Leaving them innocent of the torture he alone wanted to shoulder. As a punishment of his so-called 'crimes', Watson loyalists took it upon themselves to inflict ten stabs all over his chest and body. Though the wounds hurt, it wasn't what crushed Perseus' resolve to live. It was the fact that while he was bleeding out on the ground, his former girlfriend were out flirting and on bed with Pace himself. At the same time, Poseidon came and disowned him. Right in front of everyone.
As he was not a demigod anymore, the invisible barrier that was supposed to keep mortals and monsters out, pushed him away. Throwing him to where he was now, on the dirt beside trees he doesn't recognize. How ironic. To be thrown away like a ragged doll by the very place he had risked his life to protect.
Just as he was in his final breaths, a bright light materialized and from it came a hand. A strong, solid hand that grabbed Perseus and pulled him to gods knows where.
"By the will of the council, by the power of the celestials," One of the older gods in the Primordial Council, Chaos, announced. He was among the six celestials that radiated enough power to send galaxies into smithereens, had they not been bound by the Ancient Laws. Beside him, Gaia, Erebus, Tartarus, Ouranos, and Pontus were all projecting their powers towards the lone figure of a man kneeling in front of them. "We name you Hand to the Primordials. Rise, Perseus Jackson." Chaos stated.
The man kneeling on one knee, was none other than the former hero of Olympus. From his dying state, Gaia pulled him towards the Celestial Realm where he was trained for centuries in all manners of combat. He was blessed with partial immortality so he was able to ladt long when they send him back in time to train, but he did have a lot close calls. Anyway, as a result, he was a master of any and all weapons of destruction and his mental state were that of a wise veteran. Which he kind of already was.
Perseus physique itself changed. When he first stood in front of the primordials, he was tall and fit, yes, but now, he looked to be a god himself. Plus, he ahd the aura that could rival those in the Council. A far cry from his shivering state at the start. His hair had grown darker, thicker, and a bit longer. Stretching as a wave down to a quarter off the top of his back. His green eyes that once shone with mischief and laughter, now darkened. Like the calm eye of a raging storm. When the celestials looked right at it, all they could see and feel were coldness and emptiness. Like peeking through a dark abyss. And yet behind those pair of sea greens, one could see they eyes of a war veteran that was molded by years and years of carnage and conquest. Perseus' had grown leaner, fitter, and he had learned to carry himself with pride.
"As the Hand," Gaia told him, slightly leaning forward on her throne. She had grown fond of the boy. Granted, he was part of the group that defeated and almost killed his bad side but, all of he celestials saw how hard he was working. All for the opportunity of revenge to Pace Watson. "You will be the one to enforce our wills into the Hidden Worlds." She said.
"Hidden Worlds, milady?" The man asked. Being centuries in their care, it was the first time that they uttered the term in front of him.
"That's right. The Graeco-Roman Pantheon is not the sole world that is hidden in the eyes of the mortals. There are countless others." The primordial of the earth answered him. Her brown eyes twirling as she did so. "They know of our existence though most of them lost their beliefs a long time ago. Because of the Ancient Laws, we can't do anything to interject in the conflicts in the said world but you, as a mortal, are not bounded by the same Laws. You will carry out our wills and if the situation calls for it, our judgement. Will you accept?" It's really hard not to crack under the pressure of six pair of eyes but Perseus nodded without a second thought.
"You have already acquired peak battle prowess and have also mastered the control on our powers." Tartarus added, scratching his chin. "You'll need it, well some of it, in our first mission for you."
"What mission, milord?" Perseus asked, void of emotions. They could ask him to slaughter planets for all he care and he'd still do it without a doubt. In his mind, people betrayed his trust and loyalty because he was weak and fragile. He depended on others. But not anymore. Now, whatever anyone throws at him, he'll return it tenfold. If they insult him, he'll cut out their tongue. If they help him, he'll be sure to repay it with his undying loyalty.
"We will send to the Hidden Wizarding World." Chaos said. "I'm sure you know Hecate?" Perseus scoffed but nodded nonetheless. "It's her pet world. There as man there, a demigod descent, we'll contact him through his dreams and he will tell you what you need to do. Remember, resolve the conflict and only after you can come back." The primordial of creation told him, to which the man only nodded. He had hoped for this. No matter the danger. Well, being part immortal helps in his resolve but he's ready. "Get ready to look more mortal. You'll leave in an hour." At that, he was dismissed.
It wasn't really much of a difference in terms of comfort. Just instead of tunics and leather pants, he'll wear regular shirt, jeans, and hoodies. Simple. After all, he's pretty much comfortable in any body wear except for being nude. A man still had to have his dignity.
An hour later, Perseus was transported five meters away from the stone bridge. In front of him were a gigantic castle with extravagant design. Evn from afar, Perseus could see the windows in the towers and the walls.
Waiting for him on the bridge was a tall, old man with a really long white beard. The man was wearing blue and purple robes. Perseus had to guess how many it was since he looked bulkier than he actually was. His small glasses almost shrink smaller from his beard and hair. Judging by the man's appearance, and what he currently know of this world, Perseus could guess that the old guys was a wizard. Nevertheless, he executed caution as he slowly made his way to the man.
"Mister Jackson. I'm Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts, the school of witchcraft and wizardry." The man inrroduced himself, smiling ever so slightly. "You can call me professor Dumbledore. Follow me and I'll explain everything." Perseus could easily make out that subtle glint of mischief and deliquence. Something he had on his former life as well.
They talked as they walked. Dumbledore explained to Perseus the four houses. What they are and what they symbolized. Gryffindor for the stupidly and idiotic brave individuals, Slytherin for the arrogantly cunning wizards and witches, Hufflepuff for the loyal, and Ravenclaw for the irritatingly smart students. Then, the headmaster came to explain their current situation. Apparently, the great dark wizard by the name of Voldemort was in the hunt for Harry Potter. The only person who killed him the first time and could potentially end his life again. They had defeated them three months ago but had evidently rose again. For the third time and this time, as a mortal. No horcruxes, or cursed immortality. Just pure mortal in a hutn for revenge. Perseus had to ally with this Potter if he wanted a lead to defeat Voldemort.
Hogwarts was really like your average medieval castle. At least if your castle hve moving stairs, portraits that comes to life, wandering ghosts, and full of wizards and witches. It was full of bricks and stones that each step they took echoed through the hallways.
"Tonight is the feast." Dumbledore told him when they arrived just outside of what he called the Great Hall. Around them, the sun had already slept. "After the first years are sorted, I will call your name and you will come in last. You'll be sorted into a house and will join the sixth years." He said. Perseus noded stiffly, pocketing both of his hands.
Perseus had a long time in admiring the door. His eyes studied all the intricate carvings that was possibly dated centuries back. When he was a demigod, his ADHD would act up most of the time which made him distracted over normal things. Now though, that he's already a mortal, his battle hardened senses, and enhanced calculating abilites helped him to observe every little thing.
"Perseus Jackson!" The man heard his name called in a muffled yell from inside. Being one for grand entrances, Perseus used some of his strength to push both of the doors open. Unluckily, he used too much. The wide doors were thrown back, almost flying off their hinges. Who would've thought that such big doors would weigh so light? Nevertheless, he had the attention he never wanted.
Heads turned to him as he took step after step. Men and women alike. With his head held high, his back straight, and his hands in his pockets, Perseus' eyes scanned the place. Confusion rised in him when he saw the flushed faces of the girls and then annoyed expressions of the boys but he didn't let it show. After all, what does he know about the British people?
Waiting for the man was Dumbledore himself. The old wizard was standing right above three steps of stairs beside a wooden chair. To his left was an old witch, albeit younger than him, but old all the same. The witch was holding an old pointy, grey hat which surprisingly has a pair of eyes and a mouth. So much for magic. The two individuals nodded when Perseus sent them a questioning look. Urging him to sit on the stall. So he did.
"Hmm." If Perseus was shocked by the talking hat, he didn't show any signs. He just let the Sorting Hat rock his head back, forth, left, and right. The hat's mouth was moving but it closes it just as it was about to talk, putting the entire Hall at the edge of their seats in anticipation. Seconds past, then minutes. One, five, to eight. No student, witch or wizard, was ever sorted that long until the hat finally shrieked. "Gryffindor!" It yelled. "Get me off this man's head!" The Sorting Hat practically jumped off and begged to return to the witch's hands.
"So what now?" Perseus asked, ignoring the cries of a ragged old hat. Dumbledore was the first to break in a room full of frozen wizards and witches when he blinked.
"Now, you'll be at Gryffindor." He said just as the elongated table fileld with red and gold lions erupted in cheers.
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