Percy Jackson: The Son of Kronos

Chapter 1: A Mysterious Heritage

On most days, Percy Jackson didn't feel very much at home at Yancy Academy. He generally held the school in a kind of silent contempt, completely unlike the rowdy, often-indulged types. Each and every trip, every mistake was written down, as soon as possible, right in the deeper, forwarding corners of his mind. He remembered all these thoughts simmering beneath the surface as he gazed at his classmates slumping past the dull gray hallways.

But today was different at least. It was a field trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art; Mr. Brunner had referred to it as "a cultural experience" while waving his arm in the slightly comedic way of his while herding them onto the bus. As he stepped into the grand halls of the museum, Percy felt the weight of unmistakable eyes on him—not from any of his classmates, but something else, something more primitive and almost familiar. He could feel it, and now, for the first time, it wasn't just trouble coming for him; it looked on, judging him.

As the group spread out, Mr. Brunner was illuminating Greek statues and myths. Grover was staring at him, and his nervous habit of fidgeting was even worse than usual. Percy squinted, trying to figure out why Grover was giving him that look; it seemed as if Grover was waiting for him to explode, or worse. 

"Percy!" Standing close to him, Grover hissed at last. His whisper was shaky; he jerked his glance around, obviously with the feeling that they might be caught just for talking. "You are-you are all right, aren't you?" 

"Peachy," Percy replied with a smirk while following that familiar thrill, seeing Grover gulp. It was fun sometimes watching Grover squirm. 

He didn't know why he enjoyed it, but the tension fed something hidden inside of him, some craving for control, like he could bend situations to his will if he simply looked hard enough.

He couldn't comprehend why it excited him, but it somehow provoked something inside him, an awfully powerful craving for control, for the notion that if he looked hard enough, he would be able to shepherd situations as he wished.

Just then, something in Grover's eyes made the bell ring, sounding fear. Percy sensed it and decided to ease off for now. He quirked an eyebrow, lending a mildly irritated expression. "You sure you're okay?"

Grover nodded a little too quickly. "Yeah, yeah, just…making sure."

They returned to the group as Mr. Brunner, who was deeply absorbed into the myth he was recounting, had grown more and more animated with the audience. Percy's mind drifted away from him, tuning out Mr. Brunner's words about the twenty conquests of Zeus, and all the while was thinking of these strange feelings he had been experiencing earlier in the morning.

Percy's gaze passed over the gallery lined with statues of ancient gods and heroes cast in stone. One in particular caught his eye; a tall, ferocious statue of Kronos. While the rest had a divine, almost noble demeanor, Kronos's twisted face seemed both strong and cruel, an odd mix bringing him to life.

There was something about that figure. A whisper in the back of Percy's mind, mingling with a strange pull that made his heart speed up. He felt its eyes much heavier than its posture, as though Kronos were gazing directly at him, through centuries and stone. He didn't know where that feeling came from, but something dark started stirring in him . The feeling was foreign and thrilling. And he found himself able to almost stand there for just a moment wondering what it would be like to know what it was to possess that kind of power, to be looked on with fear and respect instead of pity and contempt.

"Percy!" Mr. Brunner's voice brought him back from his daze. His teacher stood no more than five feet away, scrutinizing him with his disturbingly penetrating gaze.

"Can you say what this statue is supposed to be?" Mr. Brunner asked, pointing towards the statue.

Percy swallowed, blinked, and forced himself into a more relaxed posture. "Uh...Kronos. The Titan who consumed his offspring, right?"

A flicker of something passed through Mr. Brunner's eyes-for a split second, Percy could not tell what it was- it might have been approval, or it might have been curiosity. "Very good," he said softly. "Kronos was the Titan of time. He was ruthless and cunning. Possession of such power can be either a blessing or a curse. A weapon or a shield. Bear this in mind, Percy."

Percy nodded and kept his smile to himself as Mr. Brunner continued on to the next statue.

The rest of the tours passed in a blur. Percy's mind kept reverting back to the statue, and Mr. Brunner's words rang in his head. What, exactly, was he trying to tell him? Why would a teacher be advising him to look at power the way a weapon was looked at? One part of him found it amusing-someone who actually would believe in all this godly nonsense. But the other, deeper, and more hidden part of him reveled in the idea.

While they continued perusing through the gallery, they came across a dimly lit hall lined with Greek pots, each depicted with battles and terrible representations of heroic figures. But then, an unmistakable image that caught Percy's eye was a gruesome version of a group of demigods fighting a Hydra. Somehow, for some reason, that made him almost envious of them: brave, strong-they overcame impossible odds.

"Mr. Jackson," a cold voice blasted him straight out of his reverie.

Percy turned to find Mrs. Dodds staring at him pointedly from beneath her brow. She was the math teacher, popular for her unreasonable appearance whenever he least desired it. He was transfixed by her ruthlessness; a smile grimly stretched over her lips.

"Come with me," she said, her tone edged with something nastier than mere obnoxiousness.

Shooting a look round, Percy caught an express look of concern on Grover's face. But Grover didn't move to cause trouble. With a shrug, Percy followed her into a small secluded gallery room that was lined with ancient weapons and armor. So thick were the shadows there that they almost felt mighty and oppressive.

Mrs. Dodds suddenly turned to face him, and her face was awful and twisted. "You think you're special, don't you?"

Raising an eyebrow, Percy locked his arms. "Depends who's asking."

Her lips twisted into a snarl. "You've been causing a lot of trouble, Jackson. Too much trouble. You think you can defy the rules? You think you can evade justice?"

His smile widened. "Justice? Really? Come on, ma'am. Not paying attention in math isn't a crime."

Her eyes were gleaming with something almost hungry? "We know who you really are, Percy Jackson. And we cannot permit you to continue."

And before his very eyes, Mrs. Dodds transformed. Her face became indescribable, the skin stretched taut as dark wings unfurled from her back. Her eyes glowed with fierce light and her hands turned into vicious talon-like claws.

Percy's heart raced, but his shock quickly yielded to another emotion- a spurt of adrenaline: the thrill of the challenge flooding through him. It was not really fear: it was actually a wild exhilaration that started somewhere deep down in him, somewhere in his spirit.

But before Mrs. Dodds could strike, he heard the rattle of wheels on the marble floor. Mr. Brunner entered the hall, calm yet intense, with a pen in his hand. 

"What ho, Percy!" Mr. Brunner shouted, announcing his presence by tossing the pen at him. Percy caught it, and to his surprise, it turned into a shining, deadly bronze sword.

Mrs Dodds lunged forward, claws extended. Instinctively, Percy raised the sword. 

If Mrs Dodds had dealt a blow, it would have been dangerous. But luck was on Percy's side; he slashed her claws with the sword as they sliced through the air, feeling the death-bringing hum of the sword in his hands. He felt poised to strike, to move, although inside, a voice told him he had never done this before. He felt a movement deep inside, buried beneath other emotions. It took the form of something instinctive and opposed the sword toward the leathery portion of Mrs Dodds's wing. She screamed, stumbling back, and ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from her gash.

She glared at him, her eyes burning and cold. "You don't know what you're dealing with, boy," she hissed in a voice marked by something inhuman. You're more dangerous than you know."

Percy grinned, feeling a strange, dark thrill in his chest. "Guess you will have to find out the hard way."

Mrs Dodds lunged again. Percy dodged once more, driving the blade forward. It was as natural as breathing as if he were playing with a toy. Deep down, he knew he hadn't ever done something like this before. The ongoing battle erased that annoying, active thought from his consciousness, and something deep down with instinct guided his hand.

He swung his sword for all he was worth and opened Mrs Dodds up so she could fall. In the dying flight of her shriek, death destroyed her, turning her into nothing more than gold dust. The gallery fell silent, and Percy stood there with a deep breath, the sword in his hand slowly reverting to a pen. Only then did it sink into him-the sheer reality of everything that just happened.

With a smile tugging at his lips, Mr. Brunner stood in front of him. "Well done, Percy."

Percy looked up, squinting. "What was that? What was she?"

Mr Brunner looked at him straight in the eye. "That was a Fury, my boy, a servant of Hades. They pursue those who have broken the ancient laws of the gods."

The thoughts churned in Percy's mind. None of this made sense. Monsters, gods, ancient laws? He wanted to let it slide as a bad joke, to shrug it off and laugh. But Mrs. Dodds turning into something horrible, with carnivorous talons and flaming eyes, that rang all sorts of alarms in his head.

"Why would a Fury want to get me?" Percy shot out.

"That's...a long story," Mr. Brunner told him, looking thoughtful. "Suffice it to say that there are mysteries about your heritage, Percy. Things you may not yet understand. But you will come to."

Percy frowned, both a hundred questions rambling inside his head; but Mr. Brunner's face foretold him he wouldn't gain answers here.

"Come on," he said, motioning for Percy to move along. "It's time you learn about who you really are."

Percy followed Mr Brunner back through the museum, still clutching his pen as if it could turn back into a sword at any moment. His head spun a mile a minute with questions, but he shoved those away for now. Answers would come soon enough. For now, he would play along.

They walked out into the sunlight, where Grover waited with a pallid face and wide eyes. He looked concerned, glancing back and forth between Percy and Mr. Brunner. Percy arched an eyebrow. Grover always seemed to know more than he let on, and Percy had had the dawning suspicion it was no different this time.

"Grover," Mr. Brunner began, "we're going to need a head start back to camp."

Grover nodded, peering at Percy with concern.

"Percy… you need to listen. Things… things are different for you."

Percy crossed his arms, unblinking. "Different how?"

Grover shifted uncomfortably in his chair, throwing a glance toward Mr. Brunner. Mr. Brunner gave a small nod of support. "Percy, you are not…normal. You're a demigod, a half-blood. And… well, there's something special about you, something even more powerful than most of the others."

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Special how?"

Mr. Brunner's smile disappeared. "Percy, you are going to find it out. But now you must understand that your life is going to change in ways that you can scarcely imagine. For now, we have to get you somewhere safe."

Safe. The word struck him as hollow, but there was something in it that stirred something in him. Percy bared his distrust for the secrets, for this strange aura of hidden destiny looming over him. But as he looked from Mr. Brunner to Grover, he grasped another thought. Whatever was going on, he was ready- or at least willing to face it.

They did not stop until they reached the school parking lot. Grover was driving. His knuckles were white around the wheel while Mr Brunner described as much as he could, remaining vague about most of the subject. Percy pressed him for the details, but he could gather little more than this- Camp Half-Blood was some sort of refuge, a place for demigods like him.

While they drove, Grover kept looking sidelong at Percy, as if he were expecting him to sprout wings or horns or something. Percy just stared out the window, the shock of the fight against Mrs. Dodds lingering in him and fading away into something else: simmering anticipation.

The landscape shifted, from city streets bustling with activity to paths that twisted and turned beneath a canopy of trees. Finally, after what felt like hours, they pulled into a long gravelled driveway, flanked on either side by towering, looming trees. Finally, they arrived at a rustic wooden sign that read: "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood."

Percy emerged and stood looking all around. The air was different here—fresher, yet alive with something he couldn't quite name. The camp seemed a nice enough quiet spot with cabins, fields, and kids scattered here and there. But it had a current, a smouldering tension thrumming underneath.

Mr. Brunner, now using a cane instead of his wheelchair, placed a hand on Percy's shoulder. "Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Percy. Here is where you will learn what you can really do, what you're capable of undertaking."

Percy's spine began to tingle uneasily in his back.

Percy looked around, trying to take it all in: a bunch of campers of different ages, orange shirts with a silhouette of a pegasus, clamoured about. Some were carrying swords, a few, weapons, others with supplies, and some were busy beautifying the lush growth around the cabins. He saw that each cabin appeared to have a different design and decoration, almost as if designed with a different character in mind.

Percy felt the eyes turn toward him as they walked. The whispers came in fluffy clouds over the air; he heard phrases like "new kid" and "another one." Some of the older campers regarded him with open curiosity; others with a suspicious kind of wariness.

"Why is everyone staring?" Percy muttered.

"The word goes around really fast here," Grover said with a bit of a nervous air about him. "A new demigod is a big deal; it is special ... especially when they are someone like you."

Percy narrowed his eyes. "Someone like me? What aren't you telling me?"

Grover and Mr. Brunner exchanged a quick look. Grover cleared his throat. "There will be time for explanations later, but for now, you need rest. Tonight you will meet Chiron and Mr. D properly. They'll explain things more clearly."

They entered a large, open-air pavilion, inside of which campers milled around, eating and conversing in a dull, constant hum. Percy's stomach growled at the scent of food wafting by, and he remembered he hadn't eaten since he'd been at the museum.

"Go on and get something to eat," Mr. Brunner said, with an encouraging pat on Percy's shoulder. "This is your first meal here—make the most of it. Grover will show you around."

Percy glanced back, but Mr. Brunner had already turned away to talk with an older camper. Grover waved Percy along and led him through the pavilion toward a long table piled high with trays of food.

"Welcome to the dining hall," said Grover, managing a weak smile. "Um... you might want to get used to it."

Percy took a plate with him and dug into the roast beef, mashed potatoes, and a few helpings of mac and cheese. Other questions were circling in his mind, but then his stomach growled again, and he forgot all about them for now. He followed Grover to a table nearby and glanced around at the other campers.

"So, what's going on here?" Percy said, after taking a few bites. "You said it was a camp for demigods. Just what does that mean?"

Grover hesitated, cocking his head as if he were checking to see who could hear. "Well... it's a place where those like you-- with one mortal parent and one godly parent--gather to train, learn, and, uh, try to stay alive." 

"Stay alive?" Percy echoed, lowering his fork.

"Yeah," Grover said quietly, glancing at Percy's wrist and the pen-turned-sword hidden in his pocket. "So you saw what Mrs Dodds was really like. There are...more like her out there. This camp protects you from monsters and helps you learn to defend yourself when they come for you."

Percy let that sink in. A camp training kids like him to fight monsters. A place where he could figure out what was different about him. But there was something in Grover's voice, it was a tone of hesitation that told Percy there was more to it than he let on.

"Who's my godly parent?" Percy asked. He tried to sound casual but couldn't quite manage it; the question weighed heavily in the air.

Grover's gaze fell away, and his face was shadowed. "No one knows yet. That...that is something you will learn here, eventually."

Percy took in Grover's hesitant response, not liking it but rather not pushing for the moment. He glanced around the pavilion again, spotting various groups of campers clustered next to the cabins. Kids from some cabins were more numerous than others, while a few had just one or two. One cabin, way at one end of the row, stood empty, the doors shut tight.

"What is with that one?" Percy asked with a nod.

Grover followed his gaze and sighed in answer, "That is the Hermes cabin. Usually...well, it's the default cabin for unclaimed kids. That's where you'll stay for now."

Percy frowned. "Claimed?"

Grover nodded. "When a god recognizes you as their kid, they'll 'claim' you. Most kids here know who their godly parent is already, some of them… they have to wait"

Being "claimed," as the Greeks would put it, sounded very strange to Percy. Part of it sounded good; he would belong, be part of something, something far greater than any one person. But a part that was much sharper, and more suspicious, wondered what that would mean for him if he was claimed.

Percy nodded slowly, digesting what Grover had told him. Being "claimed" sounded like an award, the thing that made you stand out for better or for worse, or singled you out as a target, an aspect he wasn't so eager to face. But whatever the case might be, there was no doubt that life at Camp Half-Blood was going to be different.

They finished the meal, and Grover walked him back to the cabins, stopping in front of a very modest cabin with an engraved "11" above the door. There was a horde of kids of all ages crowding the steps and porch; a few raised their heads as Percy approached.

"This is the Hermes cabin," Grover said, giving Percy a push forward. "Hermes is the god of travellers, so he has a soft spot for us, unclaimed kids. Everyone who hasn't been claimed yet stays here."

As he crossed the threshold, Percy felt other campers' eyes on him. He could almost feel them staring. Some with curious looks; others were indifferent; a few… well, he couldn't gauge the expression, but it felt odd. Was it apprehension? Rivalry?

One of the older campers, a guy with a sly smile and tousled brown hair, stepped up to Percy and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Hey there, newbie! Welcome to Hermes cabin. I'm Luke Castellan."

"Percy," he replied, shaking Luke's hand.

"Luke's the cabin counsellor," Grover added. "He'll show you around." 

Luke chuckled, taking his time to look Percy up and down. "First time here?"

"Yeah," Percy said. "Still working things out."

Luke laughed. "Isn't that the case with everyone? Don't fret. Stay here long enough, and before you know it, you will be an expert in all of this. Right, and let me point out to you the place where you will be sleeping."

He led Percy inside the cabin, which was…. Let's just say, cramped is an understatement. Bunks were crammed three deep, there were bags and bits of gear strewn across the floor and every little extra space appeared to be filled. Nevertheless, there was a generous, inviting atmosphere in the place regardless of the mess seen around.

"Uh, will that be alright? Sorry about the mess," Luke said with a shrug. "Not much space, but we will make it work."

Percy dropped the weight of his bag on an empty sleeping bag, only now grasping how exhausted he had become in the course of the day. Between the attack at the museum, now this trip, and everything that Grover and Mr. Brunner had mentioned, Percy felt as though it would be hard for him to assimilate all of this.

As Luke approached, he gave Percy a sympathetic smile. "It's funny how the entire day can be a lot, getting adjusted to all of this can be a little overwhelming. First and foremost, relax. After a while, when there is a campfire, you will meet everyone present. And don't worry," he added with a wink. "I mean yeah, the craziness will become a sort of a norm for you."

A weary smile crossed Percy's lips. "I think, thank you very much, Luke. I guess.

Luke left him to settle in and Percy slumped back down on the bunk where his thoughts raced in circles. In his head, innumerable perceptions were in such a rush that they never allowed him to manage to narrow down on one. The idea of being a demigod… of slaying monsters… of gods and Titans… they all sounded and looked like they were out of a fantasy movie. And yet, there was something, in a peculiar way, that made sense. Almost, just almost as though he was supposed to have always been there although he couldn't quite make sense of it all.

At that time in the night, the whole camp moved around to make a circle and threw some wood into the huge fire. Percy looked at the children from each cabin dip towards the bonfire and offer their cabins skits along with some stories and songs that amazed him since they dated back centuries. He watched as laughter erupted and people spoke excitedly and after what seemed like a long time, he felt like he belonged somewhere, that he was a part of something great and something ancient.

Throughout the camp, Mr. Brunner who now was formally known as Chiron the great centaur stepped up and made an address to the camp. He spoke of honour, bravery and of the things that were yet in line and needed to be accomplished.

Although he did not mention Percy by name, Percy believed the centaur's eyes did settle on him with a sort of look that communicated, "You too belong in this story."

So after the meeting was over, Percy left the room and boarded the Hermes cabin meditating on the events of that night. But somehow, as he had settled in bed, he registered an unusual feeling, an unfamiliar energy circulating in his system. It was like an itch he couldn't quite scratch, a hint of something just out of reach.

But he pushed it aside. He was exhausted, and whatever answers lay ahead, they could wait until morning.

---

End of Chapter 1

Author's Note: This is a different and new kind of Percy Jackson story I am writing. I am going to be changing some interactions here and there as I don't want to copy sentences from the book completely. Riptide stays with Percy from the beginning. Thoughts?

Also this chapter has been revised and improved on 26/12/24.