Chapter Text
Percy Jackson groaned as Triton’s massive trident clanged against the polished coral floor of the palace training deck. Again.
“You call that a forward flip?!” Triton bellowed, pacing like a shark on land. “You nearly slammed your head into a pillar! I should have you doing push-ups in the ocean for a month!”
Percy rolled his eyes. Being a new Prince of Atlantis was… weird. And tiring. Poseidon had made him a prince. More like forced. Great honour, sure—but being the son of the sea god who expected perfection? Less fun. And now his older brother Triton had decided it was his personal mission to make sure Percy could survive more than five seconds without nearly destroying the palace.
“I—uh—thought it was more of a ‘practice at your own pace’ thing?” Percy said, holding up his hands defensively. Triton’s glare could have turned the ocean stormy.
“Your own pace?” Triton growled. “Perseus! You are a prince now! Not some mortal flopping around like a tuna!”
Percy groaned. “Right. Mortal tuna. Got it.”
From above, Apollo, his annoying boyfriend drifted lazily near a balcony, golden hair glinting in the sunlight. “Really, Triton? Can’t you let him breathe for five seconds?”
Triton’s tails lashed violently. “Breathe? Breathe and flop, and he’ll destroy the palace before breakfast! Get out of here, Apollo. Surely you have your own duties to attend to.”
Percy muttered under his breath, “Perfect… my life consists of being torn between my furious brother and a hovering god.”
Delphin, perched calmly on a coral pedestal, whistled softly and rolled his eyes. Percy waved. “Don’t look at me like that, Delphin. I know this is hilarious from the outside, but I’m surviving… mostly.”
Another round of flips, dodges, and narrowly avoiding Triton’s swinging trident later, Percy flopped onto a patch of seaweed. “Okay… okay. I get it. I’m Prince of Atlantis. I’m supposed to do things. Fine.”
Triton crossed his arms, tails flicking. “Prince? Yes. But you cannot even do a simple forward flip without almost breaking everything in this palace. You are not ready. You will learn. And I will make sure of it.”
Percy groaned. “I’m learning! I swear! Just… slowly!”
Apollo floated down, strumming a harp. “Honestly, Percy, it’s kind of cute watching him flounder. But also terrifying. Very entertaining.”
Percy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Thanks for that. Really helpful commentary.”
Delphin whistled again, clearly amused by the chaos surrounding Percy. Percy waved. “Hi. Yes. I see you. I’m working on it!”
Just as Percy started to feel slightly alive and somewhat competent, a strange shimmer appeared near the far edge of the deck. He squinted. It wasn’t a reflection, not a bubble, not one of Apollo’s harmless illusions.
It was a girl.
Silver hair floated around her like smoke in the water, and her eyes glowed faintly violet. Percy froze. And then he noticed the strangest thing: she was breathing underwater.
“…Okay. That’s definitely a spell,” Percy muttered to himself. “Magic. Absolutely magic. Totally not natural.”
Triton lashed his tails. “Who is that?! Stay away from my brother!”
Percy raised a hand. “Relax! She hasn’t done anything yet!”
Apollo hovered nearby, leaning slightly closer, his eyes flashing gold. “Careful, Percy…”
Percy gave him a small, frantic wave. “I’ve got this. Probably.”
The girl’s staff glowed faintly. “Perseus Jackson,” she said, calm but deadly. “You have meddled in things you should not. And now… you must pay.”
Percy froze. Memories flickered. He had fought her during the Titan War. She had been loyal to Kronos. And now she was here, underwater, glowing, magical, dangerous.
Before he could even react, the water twisted. Light bent strangely. Apollo was screaming. Or was that Triton? Percy felt… smaller, lighter. Memories unspooling, slipping away like sand in a current.
⸻
The child was small, fragile, and utterly alone, lying near the riverbank. Most would have drowned.
Curious sea green eyes flickered like sunlight on waves. The man bent carefully, lifting the infant. There was faint power coming from the child, latent, unclaimed, waiting.
“Perseus,” he murmured. The name rolled off his tongue with certainty. “A name worthy of what you might become.”
Cradling the infant, he disappeared into the mist.
Perseus.