★ 。＼｜／。★

𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗘

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖎𝖙𝖗𝖊 𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖙-𝖉𝖊𝖚𝖝:
WHO LIVES, WHO DIES,
WHO TELLS YOUR STORY

★ 。／｜＼。★

BELLE FELT A little uneasy telling a Giant about their plans. He was the enemy and one of the kind they had to stop on their quest on the Argo II, after all. Despite that, Damasen was still a good host. He had saved Percy and made some excellent Drakon-meat stew, especially compared to the firewater from the Phlegethon. His hut was warm and comfortable. Belle, for the first time since falling into Tartarus, felt like she could truly relax. That was pretty ironic since she was literally having dinner with a Titan and a Giant.

She told Damasen about her life. Belle explained that she was a daughter of Demeter who had been at Camp Half-Blood since she was ten years old and how there she had met her three best friends — Katie Gardner and Connor and Travis Stoll. She then went on to tell him about how her and Percy met when they were teamed up for a game and how they had fallen into the Labyrinth. Belle explained their quest in the Labyrinth and how the Battle of Manhattan played out. Finally, she described how Percy had met Bob on a quest in the Underworld, wiped his memory with the River Lethe, and left him in the care of Hades.

"Percy was only trying to do something good for you," Belle promised the Titan. "He didn't know that Hades and Persephone would treat you like that."

She didn't know about Hades, but Belle believed that Persephone knew better. Her half-sister should've treated Bob with more respect.

Belle thought about what the Arai had said about how Nico di Angelo had been the only person to visit Bob in the palace of the Underworld. Nico was one of the hardest Demigods to read. He wasn't very outgoing and often hid in the shadows. Him and Belle hadn't even gotten along the first time they met. In the end, they had become kind of friends. But Belle didn't know if she would ever be able to figure him out completely.

Bob then began to wash his bowl with his squirt bottle and rag. Belle glanced over at him for a moment.

Damasen made a rolling gesture with his spoon. "Continue your story, Belle Adair."

She continued to to explain their quest on the Argo II with the six other Demigods of the Prophecy. However, she faltered when she got to the part about trying to stop Gaea from waking and potentially destroying the entire world.

"She's your mom, right?" Belle asked.

Damasen scraped his bowl, his face scarred with poison burns, gouges, and scar tissue. "Yes. And Tartarus is my father." He gestured around the hut with his spoon. "As you can see, I was a disappointment to my parents. They expected . . . more from me."

Belle couldn't even imagining having parents that were the Earth and the Pit of Darkness, nevertheless that she was sharing soup with a child of those two. It was weird enough having Olympian Gods as parents, but they actually resembled humans. The most ancient and primordial Gods like Gaea and Tartarus . . . their children could never be independent from them, because they literally were the entire world.

"Do you mind us fighting her?" Belle continued.

Damasen snorted without amusement. "Best of luck. At present, it's my father you should worry about. With him opposing you, you have no chance to survive."

Belle didn't feel so hungry anymore. She put her bowl down on the floor and Small Bob came over to inspect it. Belle crossed her legs underneath her and tilted her head at the Giant in curiosity.

"How is he opposing us?" Belle questioned.

"All of this," Damasen responded, cracking a Drakon bone and using one of its splinters as a toothpick. "All that you see is the body of Tartarus, or at least one manifestation of it. He knows you are here. He tries to thwart your progress at every step. My brethren hunt you. It is remarkable you have lived this long, even with the help of Iapetus."

Bob scowled when he heard his name. "The defeated ones hunt us, yes. They will be close behind now."

Damasen spat out his toothpick. "I can obscure your path for a while, long enough for you to rest. I have power in this swamp. But eventually they will catch you."

"My friends must reach the Doors of Death," Bob voiced. "That is the way out."

"Impossible. The Doors are too well guarded."

"So you know where they are?" Belle inquired.

"Of course," Damasen answered. "All of Tartarus flows down to one place: his heart. The Doors of Death are there. But you cannot make it there alive with only Iapetus."

"Then why don't you come with us?" Belle suggested. "You can help us survive."

"HA!"

Belle jumped in surprise at his loud laugh. Back at the bed, Percy muttered ha, ha, ha deliriously in his sleep. Belle glanced back at him for a moment before turning back to Damasen.

"Child of Demeter, I am not your friend," Damasen replied. "I helped mortals once, and you see where it got me."

"You helped mortals?" Belle asked. She had read many books and had studied many Greek legends, but the name Damasen wasn't coming up in her memory. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I understand."

"Bad story," Bob explained. "Good Giants have bad stories. Damasen was created to oppose Ares."

"Yes," Damasen agreed. "Like all my brethren, I was born to answer a certain God. My foe was Ares. But Ares was the God of war. And so when I was born—"

"You were peaceful, since you were his opposite," Belle guessed.

"Peaceful for a Giant, at least." Damasen sighed before beginning to tell his story this time. "I wandered the fields of Maeonia, in the land you now call Turkey. I tended my sheep and collected my herbs. It was a good life. But I would not fight the Gods. My mother and father cursed me for that. The final insult: one day the Maeonian Drakon killed a human shepherd, a friend of mine, so I hunted the creature down and slew it, thrusting a tree straight through its mouth. I used the power of the Earth to regrow the tree's roots, planting the Drakon firmly in the ground. I made sure it would terrorize mortals no more. That was a deed Gaea could not forgive."

Belle raised her eyebrows. "She couldn't forgive you because you helped someone?"

"Yes. Gaea opened the Earth, and I was consumed, exiled here in the belly of my father Tartarus, where all the useless flotsam collects — all the bits of creation he does not care for." Damasen looked ashamed, and he picked a flower out of his hair and stared down at it. "They let me live, tending my sheep, collecting my herbs, so I might know the uselessness of the life I chose. Every day — or what passes for day in this lightless place — the Maeonian Drakon re-forms and attacks me. Killing it is my endless task."

Belle's eyebrows then knit in thought. She glanced around the hut and tried to imagine how many eons Damasen had been exiled down here, slaying the Drakon and collecting its bones, hide, and meat, knowing it would just attack him again the next day. It sort of reminded her of the myth of Sisyphus, where Sisyphus was cursed for eternity with rolling a rock up a hill only for it to roll back down. Nevertheless, Belle could barely fathom surviving a week in Tartarus. It was just beyond cruel for Tartarus and Gaea to exile their own son here for centuries.

"Have you ever tried to break the curse?" Belle suddenly blurted out, turning her focus back to the Giant. "Maybe if you do you can come with us."

Damasen chuckled bitterly. "As simple as that. Don't you think I have tried to leave this place? It is impossible. No matter which direction I travel, I end up here again. The swamp is the only thing I know — the only destination I can imagine. No, little Demigod. My curse has overtaken me. I have no hope left."

"No hope," Bob repeated.

"There has to be another way," Belle argued. The look on the Giant's face was sad and defeated, and it vaguely reminded her of one time when she was ten — young and naive — how when she asked Chiron when her mother would come and visit. He had explained to her that Demeter wasn't going to come visit and what Belle was wishing for was near impossible. "Bob has this plan that we can hide in something called Death Mist to reach the Doors of Death."

"Death Mist?" Damasen scowled at Bob. "You would take them to Akhlys?"

"It is the only way," Bob insisted.

"You will die. Painfully. In darkness. Akhlys trusts no one and helps no one."

Bob looked like he wanted to argue with the Giant. However, he pressed his lips together and remained silent.

"Is there any other way to get to the Doors, then?" Belle questioned.

"No," Damasen responded. "The Death Mist . . . that is the best plan. Unfortunately, it is a terrible plan."

Belle suddenly felt like she was hanging over the pit again. She was unable to both pull herself up and maintain her grip. There were no good options left.

"Don't you think it's worth trying again to break the curse?" Belle inquired. "You could return to the mortal world and see the sun again. See the brightness, feel the warmth."

Damasen's eyes looked just like the sockets of the Drakon's skull — dark, hollow, and devoid of hope. He tossed a broken bone into the fire and rose up to his full height. Belle looked up to see a massive red warrior wearing sheepskin and Drakon leather that had dried flowers and herbs in his hair. She could tell he was the anti-Ares. Ares was a bad God with his blustery and violent nature yet still held a throne on Mount Olympus. Damasen was a good Giant with his kind and helpful nature yet he had been cursed to eternal torment because of it.

"Get some sleep," the Giant stated. "I will prepare supplies for your journey. I am sorry, but I cannot do more."

Belle went to argue, but she felt her body begin to betray her as soon as he said sleep. Despite the promise to herself to never sleep in Tartarus again, everything right now was making her so tired. Her stomach was full. The fire was making a pleasant crackling sound. Herbs and other plants reminded her of the comforting nature of the Demeter Cabin and the hills around Camp Half-Blood in the summer, where the Demeter kids, Satyrs, and Naiads would gather wild plants in the lazy afternoons.

"Yeah, okay," Belle agreed. "Maybe a little sleep."

Bob picked her up easily. Belle didn't protest as he walked over to the bed. He set her down next to Percy on the Giant's bed. Belle put her head on her boyfriend's chest and cuddled up to his side. In his sleep, Percy wound an arm around her waist and tugged her in closer. She closed her eyes and immediately fell into a blissful sleep.

⭒ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ☆ ⭒

BELLE'S EYES SLOWLY fluttered open. She was staring at the shadows, watching shadows dancing across the hut's ceiling. It was weird and unusual how she hadn't had a single dream, especially down here. Belle wasn't awake enough to fully lift her head, so she kept it resting against Percy's chest with his arms around her. She laid there for a while, Percy snoring softly and Small Bob purring on her belly, and then she heard Bob and Damasen deep in conversation.

"You haven't told her," Damasen voiced.

"No," Bob revealed. "She is already scared."

"She should be. And if you cannot guide them past Night?"

Belle couldn't help but notice that Damasen said Night like it was a proper name — an evil name. She wondered what that meant.

"I have to," Bob replied.

"Why?" Damasen asked. "What have the Demigods given you? They have erased your old self,
everything you were. Titans and Giants . . . we are meant to be the foes of the Gods and their children. Are we not?"

"Then why did you heal the boy?"

Damasen exhaled in response. "I have been wondering that myself. Perhaps because the girl goaded me, or perhaps . . . I find these two Demigods intriguing. They are resilient to have made it so far. That is admirable. Still, how can we help them any further? It is not our fate."

"Perhaps. But . . . do you like our fate?"

"What a question. Does anyone like his fate?"

"I liked being Bob," Bob admitted. "Before I started to remember . . ."

"Huh," Damasen commented, shuffling around like he was stuffing a leather bag.

Bob paused for a moment. "Damasen, do you remember the sun?"

The shuffling stopped, and Damasen exhaled again. "Yes. It was yellow. When it touched the horizon, it turned the sky beautiful colors.'

"I miss the sun. The stars, too. I would like to say hello to the stars again."

"Stars . . ." Damasen trailed off, saying the word like he had forgotten what it meant. "Yes. They made silver patterns in the night sky." He then threw something to the floor with a thump. "Bah. This is useless talk. We cannot—"

He was cut off by the Maeonian Drakon roaring in the distance.

Percy sat upright very suddenly, partially knocking Belle over since her head was still on his chest. "What? What — where — what?"

Belle took his hand in hers. "Hey, it's okay."

Percy looked more confused than ever when he realized that they were together in a Giant's bed with Small Bob the skeletal kitten. "That noise . . . Belle, where are we?"

"What do you remember?"

He frowned at her. His sea-green eyes seemed alert and all his wounds had vanished. Besides his tattered clothes and some dirt and grime on his skin, he looked like he had never fallen into Tartarus.

"I remember the demon grandmothers," Percy told her. "You were crying because you couldn't see me anymore, and I was trying to get to you but you kept getting farther and farther away. After that . . . not much."

Damasen loomed over the bed. "There is no time, little mortals. The Drakon is returning. I fear its roar will draw the others — my brethren, hunting you. They will be here within minutes."

Belle's heart pounded against her chest. "What are you going to tell them when they arrive?"

"What is there to tell? Nothing of significance, as long as you are gone." He tossed them two satchels made of Drakon leather. "Clothes, food, drink."

Bob was wearing a pack similar to theirs, but it was much larger. He was leaning on his broom while gazing at Belle like he was thinking about the words Damasen had given him: What have the Demigods given you? We are meant to be the foes of the Gods and their children.

Foes.

Belle's eyes widened. The thought hit her like a truck. It was crystal clear to her now.

"The Prophecy of Eight," Belle announced.

Percy paused from shouldering his pack (he had already climbed out of bed) and frowned at her again. "What about it, Beauty?"

She stood up from the bed quickly and took Damasen's rough hand in hers, startling the Giant and making his eyebrows furrow at her. "And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death. That's what the Prophecy says. My friend Annabeth thought it meant Romans and Greeks, and I believed it too at first, but now I realize that's wrong. The line refers to us — two Demigods, a Titan, and a Giant. Damasen, we need your help to close the Doors."

The Drakon roared again outside, much closer this time. Damasen gingerly pulled his hand away, but Belle still stared at him expectantly.

"No, child," Damasen refused. "My curse is here. I cannot escape it."

"Yes, you can," Belle argued. "Don't fight the Drakon again. Find a way to break the cycle and make yourself a new fate."

He shook his head. "Even if I could, I cannot leave this swamp. It is the only destination I can picture."

Belle felt her mind going at a million miles per second. "Make me your new destination. Look at my face and remember it. Whenever you're ready, come find me. Percy, Bob, and I will take you to the mortal world with us. You'll be able to see the sun and stars again."

The ground shook, and the Drakon was close. It stomped through the marsh and blasted trees and moss with its poison spray.

"THE SEA GOD'S SON!" Polybotes the Giant's voice yelled to his followers from further away. "HE IS CLOSE!"

"Belle, we gotta go," Percy urged.

Damasen took something from his belt. The white shard looked like another toothpick in his massive hand, but Belle soon realized it was a sword. It was a blade made of Drakon bone that was honed to a deadly edge and a simple grip of leather. She didn't understand why Damasen was offering to her. That sword wasn't her style, and she wouldn't just abandon Sunflower like that.

"I already have a weapon," Belle protested.

"It is one last gift to you, daughter of Demeter," Damasen insisted. "I'm sure it will bring good use to one of those friends you mentioned. Now go! Before it is too late."

Belle bit back a sob. She took the sword in her hand and couldn't bring herself to say thank you since she was so choked up. Belle also couldn't help but notice how unnatural it felt in her hand. Although she wouldn't use it herself, she could think of one person who could benefit from it. It was that same girl who she had found in that cavern without her knife. Annabeth Chase, Belle decided, would become the new owner of this sword if Belle ever got out of here. Belle also knew Damasen had to come with them and fight, but the Giant turned away.

"We must leave," Bob stated as Small Bob climbed onto his shoulder.

Percy slipped his hand into hers again. "He's right. Come on."

They ran for the entrance. Belle didn't dare to look back as she followed Percy and Bob into the swamp. However, she did hear Damasen behind them. He shouted his battle cry at the advancing Drakon, his voice cracking with despair as he faced his old enemy yet again.

—  [  ♡  ]  —

omg ok I just wanna say that belle was extremely grateful for the sword damasen gave her. like don't get her wrong she knew it was very thoughtful but sunflower is like her #1. I also think it's very sweet how belle's first thought was to give it to annabeth bc she lost her knife

also I just committed to college two days ago and I have a job interview tomorrow. I feel like I'm literally going to vomit. wtf when did I grow up. adulting is hard

gifs by 1-800-SIMPINGFORSEB !