Chapter 6 The Crown and The Sword

Shock. 

Sharp, fast and paralyzing.

That was all that coursed throughout Katarina's body, latching on to every part of her, hooking her heartbeat and stilling her breath so that she stood unmoving, staring at the silver haired boy in front of her, and trying to get air into her lungs. 

What the fuck had he just said?

"Kat" he called, a mixture of worry and anxiety in his voice, and though she heard him she didn't move, she couldn't move. Shock rooted her feet to the ground. 

Then a hand rested gently on her shoulder, and a similar voice, though harder than the first, called her name, and not with worry or anxiety, but with an authoritative affection. 

"Katarina" Antony called. 

She closed her eyes, and focusing on the hand on her shoulder, she took in an unsteady breath of air. When she opened her eyes again she set them on Sal, who looked at her apologetically, hopefully, fearfully, a look she'd seen before, on a dark night in the forests of the Sambisa. A plea she was all too familiar with. 

Don't run away from me. Please. 

"Sal" she said finally, her voice croaking with the beginning of tears. "Casmir is dead, you know that" 

"I do" he said. He spoke cautiously, like his voice walked on a ground littered with shards of broken glass. "But I can bring him back" 

"What?" she whispered. She could feel Antony's hand pressing down firmly on her shoulder, and she had to admit it was helping her a little bit, keeping her anchored somehow. "You mean Necromancy?" 

Sal held her gaze as he nodded slowly, blue eyes burning as they reflected the sunlight.

"Necromancy is death magic, black magic, a broken magic. The Lex forbids it to be used by anyone born without the talent to use it, and even then it is done with caution"

"I know, but I'm a Phantom, I can do magic that no one else can, and I've already gone through the Lex, and it says nothing about undead Shaded beings, like vampires, Casmir was dead when he was killed so bringing him back to life wouldn't go against it" 

"Do you hear yourself?" Katarina said. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her voice began to rise several decibels. "Have you learned nothing from the past two days, magic may be a tool but you're abusing it, first you used it on a mortal, and now you want to bring back the dead!" 

"Casmir is not dead!" Sal said. "He told me that day, he told me he's holding on, he's a willing spirit pulling away from the End for us, you have to believe me" 

Katarina could tell that he really believed it, but she had seen the holes in Casmir's chest, had seen the blood pooling on the cool marble floor of Neptune's realm beneath him, had seen him crack and crumble to ash right before her eyes. 

And yet she'd felt his hands close over hers every night before she slept, had felt the room go cold and knew he was with her, had seen him staring back at her from the mirror in her dreams, assuring her over and over again.

'I will be back, I promise'

Katarina could feel her heart squeezing tighter and tighter at those memories. Was he really pulling away, holding on to a string of whatever life he had left, for them?

"He won't last much longer" Sal said as he drew closer to her and placed a hand on her arm, their gazes still held together like magnets. "Don't you want him back?" 

The question —coupled with the sensation of his eyes on hers, both his and Antony's hands holding her, familiar and affectionate —rapidly chipped away at her resolve, leaving it barely able to stand on it's own. 

"I do" she whispered, tears trailing their way down her cheeks in beads of salt and water. "I really do"

Sal smiled and moved his hand to her cheek, the contact made her shiver as he slowly wiped her tears away. Antony's hand rubbed her shoulder slowly, affectionately, his other hand grasping her arm firmly.

"Let's go get him back then" Sal said.

***

"You know what to do?" Sal asked Antony as he slid on the shirt of his Shemer's tunic over his head, his silver hair ruffling as the shirt came down and rested on his broad shoulders. 

They were in the armory back at Katarina's house, gearing up for the hunt ahead. Sal and Katarina we're going out to get the components for the spell, while Antony was getting the most important thing of all. 

Casmir's ashes.

"Go in, grab the ashes, get out" Antony said for the sixth time that day as he buckled his boots and stood on his feet. "We've gone over this Sal" 

"I know, I know" Sal said. He put on the tunic's jacket, decorated with silvery runes of strength, speed and protection, and zipped it up, pulling out his pendant and letting it rest on his chest. The runes and the jewel glittered in the green fire light of the armory. "I just can't believe we're doing this, I've been planning it for months Antony, months!" 

Antony smiled at the smile on his brother's face, the excitement shining in his eyes as he stuck his wand in his boots.

"You know I still can't believe you kept it, the ashes I mean" Sal said. 

Antony smiled and slid on his gloves. He couldn't believe it too. 

On the day Casmir died, after Sal and the others had left, Antony had instructed Casmir's ashes to be gathered and kept in a box to be cast into the sea later. His father, Neptune, who had been the cause of Casmir's death and who Sal had defied and practically insulted, of course did not allow it, so Antony had kept the ashes in his chambers, hoping to give it back to Katarina or Sal one day. 

It was one of the reasons Antony had gone after Sal that day, but with the hunt for Percival as top priority and the things that happened after their victory; Julika being alive, Katarina leaving for Diana's Hunt, Lester paralyzed in the hospital, he'd forgotten all about it. 

Then Sal had told him about his plan to raise Casmir back to life and he'd been surprised when he said he needed a part of Casmir left in this world to complete the ritual.

He would have dismissed it as a coincidence that he had exactly what Sal needed, but being the son of a god he understood Fate and he knew it was anything but a coincidence. 

"Hey" Sal said. 

Antony looked up from his gloves at him.

Sal had packed his hair up in a ponytail, leaving one curling strand dangling out in front of his eyes. 

Antony found himself marveling at how the simple things about Sal made all the big things stand out, the way his hair pushed back left his eyes shining and open, the way his smile made the firelight in the room brighter, the way his hand resting on Antony's shoulder made all the anxiety disappear instantly. 

"Thank you for doing this, really, none of it would be possible without you"

"Sal, it's no problem seriously"

"Are you sure?" he asked. "You haven't been back to the Bermuda in months, Tony"

"I know" Antony said, he clenched his hands into fists. They'd started shaking again. "But the migraines have let up since we killed Percival, and I don't hear the voices anymore"

"What about your powers?" 

"I've had no cause to use them" Antony answered, which wasn't necessarily true. He hadn't used them because he couldn't use them, not since Percival.

"Antony" Sal said in that half concerned half reproachful tone that meant he knew Antony wasn't being honest and didn't like it.

"Sal" Antony said with the same tone, a smile on his face.

Sal scowled at him.

"Look, I'm fine and I'm ready, I promise" Antony said.

Sal was about to protest when the sound of clicking boots sounded from behind them.

They both turned to see Katarina emerging from the other part of the armory wearing her Shemer's tunic, a black satchel hanging across her shoulders and a wand held in her hands. She sauntered towards them, her hand rummaging through the satchel.

At least it seemed that way until she came closer and Antony saw that her gaze was unfocused, and that the satchel was empty.

"I could've sworn I put that wand in here" she muttered under her breath.

"Kat" Sal called worriedly.

She whipped her head up at him as if she'd been disturbed.

"What?" she asked, her tone as sharp as her gaze.

"The wand's in your hand" he said, his voice steady and unaffected.

She looked to her other hand and her cheeks went pink when she saw the wand in it.

"Thanks" she said as she reached it out to him. "It's for you though, the latest, Hecate, the greek goddess of magic gave it to me, something about a peace offering, I didn't really understand it though"

Antony watched Sal take it from Katarina's hand, watched the hesitancy in every movement as he reached his hand out. 

Then their hands brushed ever so slightly, a brief contact of skin on skin, and it all melted away, all the hesitance and caution, like it had never been there before. 

The two jerked back, Sal more gracefully than Katarina. 

Katarina's cheeks flushed an even brighter pink.

"Thanks" Sal said as he looked down at it. 

The wand was smaller than the previous one and was the exact shape of a pencil, runes that spoke of control and channels freshly engraved into the crystal like writings on the band of a wedding ring. "And about the whole peace offering thing"

"You'll explain it later?" she said.

Sal smiled.

"Yeah" 

Antony watched the two of them with slight contempt.

How was it that they made simple gestures look like they were baring themselves before one another?

He clenched his fist without knowing why. It was probably out of his in built demigod loathing, the teachings his father had drilled into his head over the years. 

At the thought of his father Antony felt the anxiety return.

Sal noticed immediately and turned to him.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine, let's just get this over with before I change my mind" Antony answered.

Sal nodded and then moved to the front of the armory and slashed the air with his new wand.

The Portal glyph shone bright blue in the air, and then the swirling doorway of blue light erupted with a dull boom.

"Just think about where you want to go and it'll take you there" Sal said over the howling of the Portal. "I trust you have a way to get back?"

Antony nodded and took a step towards the Portal, he was side by side with Sal now, whose strand of hair was flying in the Portal's wind. 

"Portal back to the basement, that's where it'll happen" Sal said. "Good luck brother"

Antony smiled at Sal, and then he stepped through the portal.

For several seconds all he could see was white light, all he could feel was air rushing on either side of him, all he could hear was the roaring of the portal as it took him through the passages that transcended space and time. 

Then he met the humidity of the sky, tasted the electricity in the clouds, and then he plummeted with ease and without fear towards the vast expanse of water rapidly approaching below him, the wind lashing against his face, the call of the sea latching onto his body like the hand of an old familiar friend. 

From a distance he could hear the sound of the Bermuda's swirling magic, the roar of its magnetic pull much similar to the pull Antony felt as he got closer and closer to the water, but this pull was friendly, instead of hostile; welcoming, instead of antagonizing.

He stretched his hand out, the sea opening before him in a swirling funnel of it's own, and then he fell into the eye of it, immersing himself completely in the feeling of passing through Shade, and tumbling out into a cool chamber, his hair and armour wet and matted to his skin as he rose to his feet.

His room was just as he remembered it.

Multicolored lights from the crystals above danced over smooth stone walls carved with swirling symbols representing currents, waves and the sea. His four poster bed, draped with sheets of purple silk was straight and neat, untouched for months, the weapons his father had given him over a series of birthdays hanging on the wall above the headrest as if anyone who slept there should be ready for a quick and sharp death. Embedded in the walls and sparkling like stars were milky pearls and purple seashells. Everything else in the room was made out of crystals— the wardrobe filled with capes and trousers, the drawers occupied with books and scrolls and jewelry, and the closed door, which held back the sea humming behind it.

Antony gulped as memories began to swirl in his head. The nights spent in this room studying history books and practicing aqua magic, the days he'd argue with his father and stay grounded for almost a year, and a time from when he was much younger, when his father told him all the old roman stories; of Romulus and Remus, of Hercules and his labors, of his name sake Antony and his love Cleopatra, a love that ended in tragedy. 

He could still hear his father's voice, as if the room carried his memories and allowed him to relive them in that singular moment.

'Love is a destroyer my little warrior, emotions are futile in the pantheon of the gods, and to care is to put the key to your defeat in someone else's hands'

"Fuck that Antony" he muttered to himself. "Just get the box and get out of here"

He moved to his bed and dropped to his knees.

Underneath were all of Antony's most prized possessions. His Aquaman comic books, the love letter Aphrodite wrote to him, his favorite conch shell, and the wooden box harboring Casmir's ashes. 

Antony grabbed the box, hesitated, then he took the Aquaman comic books before rising to his feet.

He went to his wardrobe and grabbed a satchel and some trousers, then he moved to the drawers and picked through his numerous jewelry for a charm or two, gifts for Sal and Katarina.

"Come to get the rest of your stuff?" came a small voice that made Antony stop in his tracks. 

He turned slowly, dropping the jewels back into the drawer and steadying himself to meet the person that had spoken his name with so much hurt and anger that it broke Antony's heart in two.

The crystal door was open, a wall of clear water rising up beyond the doorway, and standing in front of it was a young boy of fourteen years with his hands clasped behind his back and his head held high so that his gaze was levelled with Antony's.

"Gladiolus" Antony whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing" Gladiolus said as he stepped forward. 

He has grown, Antony mused.

The last time he'd seen his younger brother he'd been a head shorter, his demeanor not as confident, his back not as stiff, in addition he'd had about two or three teeth missing and his icy blue hair had been unruly and all over the place. 

Now his hair was neat and slick, longer than both his and his father's, and rested on his bare shoulders, his eyes, like Antony's and their father's, were crystalline, making his icy gaze as cold and hard as a glacier drifting over the arctic waters. His chest was bare and his stomach that had been flat before was now hard with muscles, his legs and arms corded with biceps, his shoulders tense from training. 

"You're not welcome here Antony", Gladiolus said. His voice was cracked, still gradually developing into maturity. "I advise you gather what you came for and leave before Father finds out" 

"Gladdy—"

"Don't you dare call me that" Gladiolus said with such hate that Antony took a step back out of shock. "Just leave, leave before I…"

"Gladdy?" came a much smaller, much more female voice. 

Antony looked behind Gladiolus and saw someone else emerge from the water beyond the doorway. A younger smaller someone with icy blue hair braided in pigtails and a silver roman dress bound at the waist by a blue belt. She had a bright red crab on her shoulder and was patting it softly with her finger. 

"I thought Father told you not to come in here anymore" said the young girl, she still hadn't looked up from her crab, still hadn't noticed Antony looking at her. "You know he still has hopes that Antony will be back, and he doesn't want you messing up the…" she looked up from her pet and her eyes, as icy blue as her hair, fell on Antony, and they widened and welled up with tears like blue pools of icy water. 

"Cordelia, is that you?" Antony said.

"Antony" Cordelia said, and then she ran to him.

Antony went on both his knees and caught his little sister in his arms. She too had grown, the last time Antony saw her she was but an infant, barely walking, barely talking, but absolutely fascinated with the sea and the world beyond. 

"Oh how glad Father will be now that you're back" she whispered in between tears. 

"Glad?" Antony said, not believing what he was hearing. "He'd be glad?"

"Of course he will, he misses you dearly" 

Antony looked up at Gladiolus who wouldn't meet his eyes and kept glaring at the floor as if it did something wrong.

"But you said…"

"Whatever Gladdy told you isn't true, he's just upset, we all are" 

Cordelia pulled away from him and took a step back. Her eyes were sad and serious and Antony couldn't help thinking that such expression was unnatural on a child's face.

"You left us Antony, we're your family and you just left us" Cordelia said.

"Delia" he whispered, hoping she could hear the remorse in his voice. "Salome is my family too" 

"But we were here first" she countered, which, logically, was correct and was a good point, but life wasn't exclusively logical, it was a mixture of logic and emotion and context, a combination of colors that turned into something that was bright and vibrant and yet was also confusing and incomprehensible.

But how did you explain all that to a twelve year old demigod who was taught that emotions were irrelevant, that context was a mortal construct, and that there was nothing in the world but logic.

"It's complicated, Delia" Antony said.

"Then you must stay" she said. "So that we can figure it out together" 

Antony sighed, touched her cheek and smiled. She was so smart, her future bright with possibilities. It hurt to see what Neptune would turn her into.

"I'm sorry" Antony said, knowing that he was breaking her heart. "I can't stay Delia" 

She gasped, her eyes welling up with tears again.

Antony never saw them fall. 

Cordelia bolted for the doorway, dodging Gladiolus's outstretched hand and smashing through the wall of water with a splash. 

Gladiolus faced Antony again, the coldness in his eyes had melted and given way to a blazing fire.

"Typical of you, coming back and breaking our hearts all over again right before you go back to him"

"You know nothing about Salome and yet you hate him so much" Antony said angrily.

"I know that he took my brother away from me" Gladiolus said. 

Antony opened his mouth to speak but Gladiolus raised his hand in disinterest.

"Don't bother" He said. "I already know what lie it is that you're going to tell me, that you are not gone, that you still care, that I will always be your little brother" He scoffed. "Tale as old as fucking time"

Antony chuckled without knowing why.

"You've learnt how to swear, Father must have introduced you to some seamen by now, I'm sure next it will be shark riding and then kraken taming, he's training you to take the throne"

"As you can see you are very, very replaceable, he doesn't want you back" Gladiolus said. "Cordelia is just being a wistful little girl is all'' 

"He does want me back, you just don't want to admit it, I have the divine power, something you don't" 

Gladiolus gave a smile that sent chills down Antony's spine.

"I have more than you could possibly know"

"Oh really, and what is that?"

Gladiolus stepped closer. There was something in the way he walked, the way he looked at Antony, that made him take a step back.

"You know what my name means right?" Gladiolus said, the smile on his face going from spine tingling to outright terrifying. "Gladiolus is a flower, a sword lily named after the gladius, the roman sword, it is a symbol of strength and passion, glory and triumph" 

"Where are you getting at exactly?" Antony said.

"You were our father's crown Antony, his pride, but I am our father's sword, his weapon, my value surpasses yours, it always has, and it always will" 

"He doesn't need you, he's using you" 

"Really?, well, if you're so useful why has he stopped tormenting you with headaches" 

Antony's eyes went wide.

"How do you…"

Gladiolus chuckled.

"Come on big brother, who do you think was speaking to you all this time, Father?" 

"It was Father, I know it, I know the voice of my father" 

Gladiolus laughed, but this time Antony didn't see his mouth move, nor did he see his body shake with amusement. Then he felt a familiar sharp pain slice through his skull like lightning, making him scream and clutch his head, curling into himself like a frightened millipede. 

He heard walking footsteps dully through the sudden haze of agony, and raised his head slightly to see Gladiolus looking down at him, the eyes behind the crystal covering were green and slitted like a snakes, glaring at him with so much hate that it was like standing before the eyes of Satan himself.

When Gladiolus spoke again it was in Antony's mind, and his voice was like that of a multitude. 

'They may have been his words, Antony' Gladiolus said, the sound of his voice mingling with that of many others, all those voices that had tormented Antony from the moment he'd chosen his family. 'But it was my voice'

He laughed again, and the sound sent an echo of pain shoot through Antony's head. 

Antony screamed again, banging his head on the ground, hoping one pain would drown out the other but it didn't stop.

'Father wasn't wrong though. You're death is inevitable, and the irony is, you will die fighting for him, if not today, then another'

"Get out of my fucking head!" screamed Antony. He tried calling on the divine power, tried reaching for the part of himself that was pure godly strength, but it seemed locked away, barricaded from his reach.

'You can't use it, can you?' Gladiolus laughed. 'You have been forsaken big brother, the power rejects you, our Father rejects you'

"Stop!, please just stop!"

The pain stopped immediately, the voices stopped, and Antony saw Gladiolus through a haze pain and agony, crouching down to to level their gaze, his face blank, his eyes burning, as he grabbed Antony by the neck and pulled him closer. 

"Get whatever it is you came for and leave us" He whispered. "And don't you dare come back Antony, don't you fucking dare"

He rose up slowly, never losing eye contact, until he turned his back on Antony, and stepped through the doorway of water, vanishing with a splash, and leaving Antony on the ground, with a shiver up his spine, and the memory of hatred scarring his mind.