Chapter Text
“What the f*ck?” Percy says, to no one in particular.
No one in particular answers as he stares at the empty space where Hermes once stood. Hermes was about to tell him something important. A war. The camps. He spoke as if they had been at war for some time and Percy would believe it, but Apollo would’ve said something. Right?
Of course he wouldn’t. Triton had said as much. That Father couldn’t have an Olympian skipping around his temple and mortal son. In fact, he’d said Apollo wasn’t supposed to come back at all.
But he did, didn’t he. He came back and explained everything, answered all his questions. Percy runs a hand through his hair, dimly noting Squib was still gone. He almost wants to be angry at Apollo, but can manage little more than frustration. Dad must’ve sworn him to secrecy, but at least Apollo told him what he could. Percy exhales his frustration, his circling entourage steering clear.
He had to speak to his father, but he hadn’t prayed since Apollo told him about everything. He’d been angry at his father before, but this anger felt different. It felt injust, heavy with guilt. How could he blame his father? What could he blame him for? Protecting him? Offering him shelter? Family? Purpose?
His anger felt ungrateful, but knowing this didn’t ease it. Percy glances back at the empty space where Hermes' silhouette still lingered. All that was left of the god was the imprint of his warmth and presence, as detailed as a statue, already beginning to fade. Walking around the space Percy finds a disturbance in the back of Hermes’ form. The image is distorted and layered like a transparent flipbook, showing something dragging the god backwards.
He was taken, as expected. The least Percy could do was search for his old friend, make sure he wasn’t in too much trouble. He turns away from Hermes' form, allowing it to fade, and materializes in the center of his room. Filling his lungs with the rich waters of Thalivas, he closes his eyes and reaches into the living map weaving throughout the twelve kingdoms. All at once, he was everywhere.
He opened two eyes to a thousand thousand sights. Merchants and markets, nobles and neighborhoods. Priests and temples. He could see them all, feel them all with the waters around him. Just as Triton taught him.
“Try again,” Triton says, his patience unyielding in the face of yet another failed attempt.
“But I’m already doing it,” Percy breathes, beyond frustrated.
“You are not,” Triton insists calmly. “You are expanding your waters, not yourself. You are trying to swim there when you can simply be there.”
Percy stares at him blankly. “I want Rhodes.”
“No,” Triton snaps. “Reach into your memory. Expand yourself to that place and you can be there and here. Simultaneously.”
Percy closes his eyes and tries again, in vain. He imagines his own chambers. Imagines the smells, the feel of the water, the flow of the currents. He sees himself there as clear as a memory, but can tell from Triton’s expression he managed little more than imagination.
“Water has memory, Perseus,” Triton explains again. “And so do you. Reach into your memory.”
A long and frustrating lesson, but Percy does finally get it. He stops imagining himself in his chambers and starts remembering being there. He remembers the smell, the feel of the water, the flow of the currents. He reaches into his memory, not imagination and reality folds. With a lurch, he finds himself in front of his chamber dresser.
“At last,” Triton’s hand rests on his shoulder. Percy looks up at his brother in two places, with two sets of eyes. “Well done, Perseus. You’ve split your consciousness.”
“Feels like it,” Percy manages through the fog of dual consciousness, his voice both far away and close at once.
“Good,” Triton smiles. “Father will be very pleased.”
“You seem more pleased,” Percy raises a brow.
“Rhodes may have noticed your attempt,” Triton smirks. “I’ve curated it.”
“Sure,” Percy rolls his eyes. Big mistake.
He catches a glimpse of himself and looks down at what should be two bodies. With a start he realizes there is only one, his split self existing without form. The layered vision buckles and Triton’s annoyed face merges into one. Still pleased with the results, Triton allows him to finish vomiting before bringing him before father to announce the progression.
To say Poseidon was ecstatic would be an understatement. By next day’s end, Percy was The Second Prince Perseus, third in line for the Atlantean throne. The coronation did something to him. His sight and senses were sharper than they had ever been before. His control of the waters, almost absolute. He spends his first few weeks as king swimming through his city, traveling his kingdoms and growing his memory. Over the years his travels were so complete, he had created a living map in his mind where he could split and travel to a thousand thousand places.
“You’re getting good at that,” Triton says. Percy blinks, his search for Squib and Hermes interrupted by Triton’s arrival. His brother looms before his physical form, an unreadable expression on his face.
“What gives?” Percy scowls.
“Don’t be difficult,” Triton warns, lifting a hand over his head.
He doesn’t even have time to shout before his expansion is forced back into his chambers. The living map falling away, blinding him to everything his true eyes can’t see.
“What the f*ck!” Percy demands, pushing his waters against Triton’s great pressure.
“Enough,” Triton barely reacts to his brother’s efforts, his waters calmly forming a barrier around Percy, a cage. “Father sent me to speak with you.”
“Did he tell you to blind me too?” Percy snaps, his water churning angrily inside the sphere of influence Triton allotted him.
“He wasn’t specific,” Triton’s look is warning. “Enough.”
After a beat Percy breathes out forcefully, the waters around him finally subsiding. Pleased, Triton nods and pulls his hand away, only releasing the pressure. Percy still could not see past his chamber walls.
“I hear you had another uninvited guest,” Triton begins.
“I hear there’s a war.”
“There is no war in our seas,” Triton says plainly. “Thank the Father.”
“Thank Father,” Percy rolls his eyes. “I’m talking about the surface.”
“Affairs of the surface are no concern of ours, as our affairs are no concern of theirs.”
“Hermes said the camps-”
“Hermes-” Triton sighs. “Should know better than to visit without announcing himself.”
“So you can tell him what he’s supposed to keep secret from me.”
“Yes,” Triton stares him down.
“Why?”
“Why?” Triton almost mocks. “Don’t be so childish. If you surface, your life will be forfeit. You know this, at the least.”
“I heard about the banishment only a month ago!” Percy gestures angrily, pushing against Triton’s steadfast barrier. “Why are you keeping things secret from me?”
“It is not your concern,” Triton snaps. “The wars, celebrations, affairs of the surface are another world. One you have been cast down from. This is your world now.”
“I have family up there,” Percy shouts. “You’re telling me I’m just never going to see them again?”
“You have family here,” Triton’s eyes darken. “Some of whom have sacrificed much to see you acclimated here.”
“For f*cks sake Triton,” Percy threw his hands through his hair. “I’ll never see my mother again. Can you not get that?”
To his credit, Triton’s eyes did soften, but his jaw was set. Percy wasn’t sure when he had started crying, but he could hear the dull clink of his pearls hitting the bedroom floor. Squib still hadn’t returned.
“We know,” Triton finally says. “Now, you do too.”
Percy only sniffles in response.
“You will overcome this Perseus,” Triton continues. “Confide in Archeas. Focus on your work. This grief will pass in time.”
“I want to talk to dad,” Percy says softly.
Triton pauses, as if at a loss for words.
“Apollo will be allowed to continue his visits as well,” Triton says gently.
“Triton.”
“That’s enough,” Triton hushes him. “Father will speak with you in his own time.”
“Where’s my Squib?” Percy sniffles.
“I’m sure it will return.”
“Fine.”
Triton pauses as if he wants to say more.
“Very well,” he says finally, vanishing.
