Chapter 79 - Rumblings II

While the fractured campers prepared for their capture the flag match, far above, Olympus seethed with divine unrest. The courtyards, usually filled with laughter from minor gods and nature spirits, stood abandoned. No one dared linger near the throne room, not while it echoed with Poseidon's fury, loud enough to rattle the marble halls.

Inside, all twelve gods attended the council, but only one god stood. Poseidon's rage flooded the chamber, his voice a crashing tide. Every word he shouted flung droplets of seawater that threatened to drown the chamber.

"-DARE DEFY ME? I WILL NOT ALLOW A MERE MORTAL TO LIVE AFTER OFFENDING ME. I WILL NOT BE DENIED MY REVENGE. POLYPHEMUS WAS MY SON!"

His trident struck the floor, cracking the stone. "HE SHOULD HAVE DROWNED. I MADE SURE OF IT. WHICH ONE OF YOU INTERVENED? WHICH ONE OF YOU BETR-"

"Enough."

Zeus rose from his throne, and though his voice was quieter than Poseidon, it crashed like thunder, deafening the chamber and sparking small bursts of static in the air. The throne room fell still. Even the air held its breath. Zeus' authority was not to be ignored.

"You will not throw accusations like betrayal in this hall," Zeus continued, eyes flashing with stormlight. "No Olympian betrayed anyone. Mind your tongue, or I will silence it."

A beat passed.

Poseidon's lips curled, sea foam still clinging to his beard. But he did not speak again, opting to instead huff, he cast one last glare around the room, whether in intimidation or suspicion, and sat back in his throne.

Seeing Poseidon return to his seat, Zeus too sat back down. He gave a final commanding glare to Poseidon before turning to Hephaestus, who was ignoring the outburst and instead focusing on a bronze cube in his hand, tinkering with it.

"Hephaestus, you were in your forge nearby when Lucas crashed, and you never reported him surviving, landing upon your forge; surely you at least noticed who saved the kid?"

This caused Hephaestus to pause from his tinkering and look up to Hermes, who had the shame to look away; he had been sent to summon Hephaestus to a meeting when he noticed traces of Lucas leaving the island, implicating Hephaestus in his report to Zeus.

"I will say it once more," Hephaestus muttered, locking eyes with Zeus. "I do not know who saved the brat. I was focused on my work. Perhaps you should question whether Poseidon even had the power to drown him."

That little quip triggered Poseidon, as he once again rose from his throne, shooting to his feet.

"I'LL DROWN YOUR FORGES BENEATH THE SEA, YOU DISFIGURED BASTARD! WHO SAVED HIM?!"

"ENOUGH!" Zeus shouted, slamming his thrones armrest. 

Poseidon gripped his trident tightly, glaring daggers at Hephaestus, who simply returned to his tinkering, unfazed. Feeling the growing murderous aura of his brother, Poseidon let out a growl before returning to his throne.

Zeus gave a glance to Hephaestus, silently reprimanding him for triggering Poseidon. After the silence settles from Zeus' reprimand and Poseidon's fury ebbs, Zeus gestures to Hermes, commanding the council to move on, understanding that attempting to find out who saved Lucas was a pointless endeavor.

"Hermes, report."

With a nod, Hermes stood.

He unrolls a scroll. "A report from Kratos. Camp Half-Blood."

His words drew curious glances, "Kratos has spent his time at camp restoring order, attempting to turn the campers back into the camp it once was, one that produced heroes. However, it seems there has been some resistance, during the-"

Hermes glanced up from the scroll and looked at Dionysus, "-Drunken slacker's-" seeing no reaction, Hermes return his gaze back to his scroll, "-time, the quality of the warriors of the camp has fallen far below the old times, they resist authority and are insubordinate. This is reflected in a recent event"

Hermes let the words linger before continuing.

"During the capture the flag team picking, the captains didn't pick teams, instead the cabins themselves picked them. Dionysus and Hephaestus chose to follow Thalia Grace, and even the normal outcasts, children of Hypnos, decided to join. Moreover, there have been recent gatherings between unclaimed, from what Kratos can gather, it seems they are gathering in groups in relation to their divine parents, minor gods. Kratos believes the camp is moving to leave Olympus' grasp and encourages the council to suppress this."

He rolled up the scroll, then pulled another from his robes.

"It's not just the camp. Rumours are spreading through the world, the nature spirits have spread a message that there is being built a place outside of Olympus' control, where they can be free and safe without having to serve, where a child who even Poseidon failed to kill is giving them a sanctuary. And it's not just the spirits. I have received word that Plutus has met with Lucas and started gathering supplies, wealth, building materials and even automaton cores and celestial bronze, it seems he has struck some deal with Lucas, and i'm afraid this won't be the final minor god to support him."

Poseidon seemed to pick up something, "You say he is gathering automaton cores, without already having an automaton, those things are useless. How did he get his hand on some?"

All eyes turned toward Hephaestus.

Zeus, voice like cooled iron, spoke: "Anything to say?"

Hephaestus shifted, uncomfortable with being the focus of attention, but said nothing.

"I think we have a more pressing matter," Aphrodite interjected, voice calm and soft like silk. "It's August. Isn't your daughter turning sixteen in December, Zeus?"

A new weight fell upon the council.

Ares leaned forward. "We should kill her."

"Never," Artemis snapped. "I won't stand for the murder of a child. Especially one whose role in the prophecy is uncertain."

"Then imprison her," Aphrodite said. "Keep her locked away."

"No," Apollo interjected. "She's at Camp Half-Blood. Let her stay. Deny her quests. Watch her."

Many gods nodded in agreement.

...

Far below Olympus, in the mortal world, a light flickered on in a quiet home. Steven Thorne stood alone in his study. He lit a candle, its glow barely holding back the dark.

"Thank you," he said. "For saving my son."

A small grunt of acceptance came from behind him.

Steven suddenly started coughing, he raised a handkerchief to his mouth and when he pulled it away there was blood.

A second shadow appeared.

"How long do you have left?"

Steven smiled at a picture of his son, framed on his desk.

"Enough"