Terry and the stolen bolt

(Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson—Rick Riordan does)

Date: January 8th 2000

(TERRY'S POV)

It's been a week since mom died and I couldn't bear to just stay home and eventually go to the orphanage, so I ran away.

[Time skip] - 6 months later

Date: July 3rd 2000

Today's my 8th birthday—the first one I've had completely alone. Honestly, it sucks balls. I've been living on the streets of Brooklyn, or sometimes in a tent if I'm lucky enough to find a decent patch of woods. My mom didn't have much money, so even though I stretched what she left me, I can barely sustain myself for a couple more months. I spend most of my time training with my xiphos or reading up on Greek mythology. Fighting monsters has become my daily routine.

Over the past few months, I've killed more than a hundred monsters. Cyclopes, hellhounds—you name it. They keep coming, and every fight gets harder. The truth? I'm losing hope. My mom told me Camp Half-Blood was a safe haven, but she didn't tell me where it was. I'm beginning to think I'll never make it there and that I'll die alone in some alley or forest.

I had just finished setting up my tent in the woods when I heard the distinct rustling of something—or rather, some things—moving through the trees. Emerging from the shadows were three Scythian Dracaenae, half-woman, half-snake warriors wielding scimitars. Their scales shimmered in the moonlight, and their slit-like eyes locked onto me.

"Fresh meat," one of them hissed, her forked tongue flicking out. I gripped my xiphos tightly, adrenaline pumping through my veins. They were fast—faster than regular monsters or anything else I'd fought before. The first Dracaenae lunged at me with a vicious slash of her scimitar towards my chest. I barely managed to sidestep, the scimitar cutting through the air inches from my face. I countered, thrusting my xiphos at her exposed abdomen, but another one blocked my strike with her weapon.

Before I could recover, the third Dracaenae darted in, her scimitar slashing across my leg. Pain exploded in my thigh, and I stumbled, barely keeping my balance. Blood streamed down my leg, pooling in the dirt. My heart pounded in panic. I was outnumbered, injured, and backed into a corner. I tried to run, limping through the forest as fast as I could, but they were relentless, their snake-like lower bodies allowing them to slither at terrifying speed. I knew I couldn't outrun them, so I did the only thing I could think of and turned to fight. "Dad, if you're listening," I muttered through gritted teeth, "now would be a great time to help me out!" But obviously NOTHING happened.

I felt a surge of anger. Of course he wouldn't help. Why would he? My dad—Zeus, supposedly the almighty King of the Gods—had done nothing but ignore me my entire life. My anger took over, and in that moment, I felt something strange. Energy crackled in the air around me. When I looked down, I saw arcs of lightning dancing across my free hand.

"What the he—" I barely had time to process it before the Dracaenae lunged again. This time, I didn't run. Instead, I pointed my hand at them and released the energy.

The lightning erupted from my palm, a blinding bolt of raw power that hit the Dracaenae head-on. Their screeches filled the air as the electricity coursed through them, their bodies disintegrating into golden dust. Their weapons and shields clattered to the ground.

The surge of power left me drained. My vision blurred, my legs buckled, and I collapsed. As I hit the ground, I heard a deep male voice say, "Well, you don't see a son of Zeus every day."

Then everything went black.

(DAEDALUS' POV)

I had been out riding Mrs. O'Leary, gathering materials for my next invention, when I noticed a flash of lightning in the distance. Curious, I urged her toward the source. When we arrived, I saw something incredible—a boy, no older than nine or ten, holding lightning in his hand. The boy looked barely conscious, his small body crumpled on the ground near a cloud of golden dust.

"Well, you don't see a son of Zeus every day," I said, stunned.

I dismounted and quickly hoisted the boy onto Mrs. O'Leary's back. He was injured, his leg bleeding heavily, and I knew he wouldn't survive without immediate care. "Let's go, girl," I said, guiding Mrs. O'Leary back toward the Labyrinth.

It took us about an hour to reach my workshop. I bandaged the boy's wounds and let him rest, all the while wondering if he was the next candidate for the Great Prophecy. With Thalia Grace out of the picture—turned into a tree, no less—this boy might be the one.

(TERRY'S POV)

I woke up three days later in an unfamiliar room, the dim lighting making it hard to see at first. My entire body ached, and I felt like I'd railed by a truck.

"Ah, you're finally awake," a man's voice said.

I turned my head and saw an older man with piercing blue eyes and gray streaks in his black hair. He had a short beard and an apologetic smile. I scrambled out of bed, my heart racing. "Who are you? Where am I?"

"Be at peace, child," he said calmly. "I mean you no harm. My name is Daedalus. You may have heard of me."

Daedalus? The Daedalus? The legendary inventor? I stared at him in disbelief. "You're supposed to be dead," I blurted out.

He chuckled. "Many would think so. But as you've seen, myths and legends have a habit of sticking around longer than expected."

I introduced myself, still suspicious, but he seemed genuinely kind. He explained that we were in the Labyrinth, his current home, and that he had brought me here to recover after finding me unconscious in the woods.

For the next few days, I stayed with him, asking him endless questions about Camp Half-Blood, the gods, and the state of the world. What he told me wasn't exactly reassuring.

"The gods," he said with a sigh, "care little for their children. At Camp Half-Blood, there are twelve cabins for the Olympian gods, but none for the minor gods. Their children are often left unclaimed, crammed into the Hermes cabin. They grow resentful, and rightfully so."

It was disappointing, but not surprising. Even now, the gods seemed more interested in their egos than in the lives of their own children, Then he told me something shocking.

He said, "You have a big role to play in the future child, one that will decide the fate of the gods."

"How am I, a measly demigod supposed to determine the fate of the gods?" I asked confused.

He replied,"Ah, but that is you are wrong. You are just not any regular demigod, you are one of sons of the big 3, who are Zues, Poseidon and Hades. Not only will more powerful than other demigods you are also part of a great prophecy according to my calculations."

"What prophecy? This is too much to take in all once. " I asked.

He sighed and said "Back at the end of world war 2 both sides, the Axis and Allied powers consisted mainly of demigods. Most of the destructive wars were fought with demigods. The Axis powers consisted of the children of Hades, while the Allied powers consisted of the children's of Zeus and Poseidon. After the war they swore on the river Styx that they wouldn't sire anymore children as they are too strong."

"Wait they swore on the river Styx not to have any more children? Then doesn't that mean Ze— I mean my 'dad' broke the oath". I said while mentally patted myself on the back for not saying his name as apparently names have power.

"Yes, that is not all though there is another reason why they promised not to have any more mortal children." He said ominously.

"What is it?" I questioned internally feeling dread.

"Back at the end of the war, the great prophecy which I mentioned earlier was spoken by the oracle. Now I don't know the exact wording of it but I do know that if a demigod of the eldest gods reaches the age of 16 then they would able to decide the fate of Olympus" He said.

"Wait, so your telling me that I am the person that the prophecy mentioned?" I asked feeling that the minuscule amount of hope I had was gone.

"Well there was another child of Zeus called Thalia Grace who should be around 12 by now but Hades almost killed her last year went she almost reached camp half blood's borders but right before she died Zeus turned into a Pine tree that now protects it" he replied.

I was internally raging, how DARE he sire 2 children without thinking about the consequences and the worst part is he isn't even gonna get any punishment because the river Styx was lenient on him and cursed his children instead. That DAMNED curse might the thing responsible for mom's death.

"I know you must be angry but we can only prepare for the future from now onwards. I will begin your training tomorrow but for now try to comprehend all the information that I have unloaded to you. You can even explore the place it you would like. Just a warning though the place changes almost everyday as this is constantly moving." said Daedalus.

A few days later, I tried to stab Daedalus at his left thigh but he deflected it easily and I ran back to get space. He didn't let up though and got inside my guard, I tried to perform a feint but he easily saw through it and disarmed me and kicked my legs out and put his gladius made of imperial gold at my neck.

"Your gonna have to try harder than that if you want to defeat me" he said.

"Wow, didn't know you liked beating up children and put a sharp sword 3 and a half foot sword at their neck to intimidate them." I snarking replied.

"Alright, just for that we will do 15 more rounds and after that learn the entirety of the art of war by tomorrow and I will ask questions."

I knew I should have kept my mouth shut but I was getting my ass handed to me on a gold platter for a few days and I needed to release some stress ok?

After that torture session I mean 'training' I looked around the place a bit it looked like a home-goods truck had crashed into an electronics shop at 100 miles per hour, and the results had been dumped here. Chairs, clocks, and tables lined the walls and floor, but each one had a twist, some sort of lever, or a mess of wires sticking out the side, all hinting at strange purposes I couldn't even guess at. There was clutter everywhere, still-on laptops lying next to half-eaten sandwiches and coffee cups. It took the phrase lived-in to a whole new level. It's like he's never heard of the word organization before.

As much as I hate admit to say it sprawling out in front of me, separated only by a thin sheet of glass, was the most majestic view I'd ever seen. A massive mountain loomed over its surroundings, twin peaks towering completely unchallenged. Dusting its base and the surrounding area was a roaming pine forest, the sharp-tipped trees coating the ground in every direction. In the sky the sun was shining past the edges of strange disklike clouds, catching white snow and making it glow like a flashlight. 

I liked to stare at the view for as long as I could at a time as it changes almost everyday. I can say a lot of negatives about the man but I can deny the fact he is a genius.

After looking at it for a while I decided to get a head start on my 'homework' and started reading the art of war. All in all I think that day was really one the best birthday's I had even if others may disagree with me.