Resurrected

Memories flooded back into my brain. I remembered getting picked up by the woman at the Grand Central. I had ran away from Camp, sick of the Hermes Cabin, sick of the routine, sick of being left out and not even noticed by anyone.

She had purple eyes, as dark as imperial robes. I don’t remember much else about her. She had stared at me so intently, that I had been paralyzed there. I just stood among the bustling crowd, mesmerized by her purple eyes. When she had reached out her hand, her voice, as soft as silk, spoke in my mind.

Tommy, do you know who your mother is?

No, I had responded, in a daze.

Would you like to find out? She asked temptingly. It had been the only thing I had ever wanted to know my entire life. Her eyes had a sparkle of excited curiosity, like she was delighted to help me find out who my mother was. As I looked into her eyes, not even realizing she was dragging me away from Grand Central Station, I was plunged into a memory.

My dad had been the unsuccessful owner of a coffee shop in Portland, Oregon. He was about to bankrupt when he met my mom. She had put an electric energy back into his step, made his blue eyes brighten, and even got him to smile in the face of his own economic hardship. With her help, his business had skyrocketed. He was now the owner of around 15 of his shops, and his business had spread to Washington State and Northern California.

The only memories I had of them being together was when they had taken me to some Portland Sea Dogs games when I was five. We always got there early. Watching the batters warm up, they had always looked so at peace. My mom ruffled my hair and smiled at me, her hazel eyes almost gold. The Sea Dogs had gone on a twenty-four-game winning streak, and on my sixth birthday, the last game of the season, my dad and I had been the first fans to show up. He had me sitting on his shoulders, and I ran my little fingers through his black hair, which made him laugh. The Sea Dogs were already in the playoffs, but it didn’t matter. The streak had to be kept alive. My dad said that my mom would meet us at the game, and so we had contentedly watched the batters warm up.

My mom never showed up. I had never seen her again. The Sea Dogs lost the game, and my dad’s business stopped growing. She had just left us waiting for a third fan who would never fill the seat next to us. My dad had grown sad after she left, but instilled in him was a sense of hope that he would see her again, that she would return. From that day, he always wore a Sea Dogs hat to work, even in a business suit. I guess that’s what made my dad my dad, and I loved him for that.

The woman shook me back to reality. She had brought me to a phone booth outside Grand Central, and took both of my hands. She looked at least twenty-five, and she towered over me. In a calm voice that spoke into my brain, she soothed,

I am a daughter of Hecate, the magic goddess. Tommy, you need to trust me. We are going to go a different place, a place where you’ll have a real family. A place where you’ll see you mother again. Do you want that?

I do, I said sleepily, like a kid just waking up on Christmas morning who hadn’t realized what day it was.

Good, she said, smiling, Now Tommy, close your eyes, and hold your breath. It will be over in three seconds.

Then, the world had collapsed around me. I frantically gulped in air and shut my eyes tight. I counted…one…two…three. I opened my eyes, gasping for more air. Looking around, I was in a completely different place. I was on a ship.

“Now Tommy,” She said aloud, but because I had become so used to her speaking in my mind, I hadn’t realized her audible voice and her mental voice were exactly the same silky melody.

“Welcome to your new home. I have to go now, but you’ll be around friends now. Welcome to Kronos’ army.”

I hadn’t wanted her to go, but I was immediately escorted by two tall, suited men. I was led to a big, regal office. A sandy-haired guy in white robes was facing away from the door, looking out of a window. The two guards kept their distance, but then said,

“Uh, sir? A new recruit for the army.”

The guy had turned around, and his eyes were pure gold. But not the soft, wheat-colored gold like my mom’s, but a hard, bright shade that looked as cold as the metal it was named after. In a raspy voice, like metal scraping on metal, the guy, who couldn’t have been twenty, said,
“Welcome, child, to our family. Do you want to find out who your mother is? Do you hate that stupid Camp? Do you want revenge on the people who disrespected you, didn’t even notice you?”

“Yes!” I said, agreeing with his every syllable.

“Good!” He smiled evilly, yet somehow comfortingly. “You start training tomorrow. I have high hopes for you, Tommy Doyle.”

I didn’t even question how he knew my name. I was assigned a room on the guy’s cruise ship, and had trained, day after day, until I was stronger than I had ever been, my sword-fighting skills as sharp as a tack. I had become good friends with Ethan Nakamura in the process after his ordeal in Daedalus’ Labyrinth. He told me stories of a huge loss that Kronos, the sandy-haired guy, hadn’t wanted to talk about. After another week, we had landed outside New York. I hadn’t seen the gold-eyed guy since I had arrived on his ship, but he appeared on the foredeck after gathering every other soldier and monster to the front.

“My legion!” He shouted, and we roared in response.

“Tonight, we start the war, and soon, we win it! We shall strike down the gods who never respected you, and lead the world into a new age, building on Olympus’ ruins!”

Another roar of approval from us. And then, the cruise ship had crashed against the side of a dock, and a ramp was lowered. Thousands of us poured off, rushing onto dry land. Thus the fight had started. It had lasted days; we always attacked at night. After the third day, we had made it all the way to the Empire State Building. Kronos had wanted to press as hard as he could, but after his drakon had been killed, he pulled me aside as one of his lieutenants prepared his horse. In that same raspy voice, he asked,

“Tommy, do you fear death?”

“No!” I responded.

“Good!” He smiled, “Do you want victory?”

“Yes!” I roared.

“Because that is the name of your mother. Tommy,” He said, climbing onto his horse, “You are the son of Nike, the goddess of victory.”

Nike, I thought, Wow. And I thought I liked Adidas.

So, we had pushed forward, sensing the end of the battle. I had disable or killed a lot of people over the past three days, but after five minutes, after somehow ending up at the front, I met my match. The girl was in a red shirt, but no armor. She had a murderous look in her eyes, and must have been a foot taller than me and outweighed me by a hundred pounds. We clashed swords, and I already knew I was done for. She was one of the best fighters I had ever come up against. She disarmed me, kicking me to my knees. I began to cry, but she didn’t hear me. As she raised her sword to strike me dead, there was no change in her murderous eyes. She brought the sword down on my neck. The last thing I remember thinking was

Wow, I'm the son of the victory goddess, and look where I've ended u--

I didn’t even finish the thought. I guess that was because my head wasn’t connected to my body anymore. But that didn’t matter. My soul was in Tartarus already.

Notes

Sorry I'm a bit late, and that this chapter is a bit long (okay, way long) but I hope you enjoy. I should get back to a normal routine of a chapter every two days, and I should have two chapters this weekend.