NOVEL WEB Chapter 10: To see Within
[You have completed the optional quest: 'The Path at the Crossroads.']
[Reward: Title – Protégé of Magic | Hekate's Favor: +1 | Unique Skill: Thread of Destinies]
Percy blinked.
The system notifications unfurled in front of his eyes like silk banners—clear, precise, glowing with quiet significance. He read the message once. Then twice. His heart thumped louder the third time.
"Whoa," he whispered. "I actually did it…"
From out of nowhere, Hekate projection chuckled. "You're surprised?"
Percy turned to her—still perched casually in her half-there, half-not form, like a mirage clinging to moonlight. Her triple-shadowed face glimmered with curiosity and faint pride.
"I mean, yeah," Percy said. "You basically threw me a magical riddle with zero directions, and now I'm walking out with a shiny new title and a 'unique' skill? That doesn't exactly happen every day."
"Ah," she said, resting her chin against her knuckles. "But it should. Especially for one who calls himself a Caster."
He squinted at her, then returned his focus to the interface.
[Title Gained: Protégé of Magic]
You are officially recognized as an apprentice of the divine magic goddess, Hekate. Your efforts in pursuing magical knowledge have earned her favor.
— +30% mastery gain for all magic-related skills.
— Any divine being will instinctively recognize that you are under Hekate's protection and patronage.
— Once per year, you may summon Hekate to answer a single question.
— (Note: Questions regarding fate, prophecy, or divine absolutes will not be answered.)
Percy's mouth fell open.
"I get a yearly call-a-goddess pass?"
Hekate smirked. "Use it wisely. Some of my past pupils waste theirs on rather idiotic questions. One asked if their crush liked them back. Another wanted to know where they had left their socks."
"That's a waste of divinity," Percy muttered, still scrolling.
"No," she said smoothly, "You are the waste of divinity. I'm just trying to mold you into something less embarrassing."
He tried not to grin.
[Skill Unlocked: Thread of Destinies]
Type: Active
Rank: Unique
Cost: Free (Cooldown: 7 days)
Range: Must be within line of sight.
Limitations: Divine targets may be able to resist the skill depending on the strength difference between you and them.
Effect: Allows the user to glimpse up to three potential future outcomes tied to a visible target's fate. These outcomes may involve death, betrayal, life-altering decisions, or crossroads.
Percy's face slowly paled as he read through it.
"Wait… I can see someone's future?"
"Fragments of it," Hekate corrected. " Echoes. Choices that shimmer brighter than the rest. Not every life is tied to grand destinies—but when it is, you'll see the strings tightening before the cut."
He exhaled, eyes wide. "This is… this is insane. I could use this in battle. Or to warn someone. Or—"
"Or to manipulate," she said bluntly, voice suddenly colder. "Don't pretend you won't be tempted. This skill does not simply show futures. It shows you secrets that they themselves might not know."
Percy's excitement dampened, though the spark in his eyes remained. "Right… no pressure or anything."
Hekate regarded him silently, then added, "You should be proud. Very few mortals earn a divine patron's favor in a single night—let alone by inventing a functional spell." She raised a brow. "Though I admit, I didn't think you'd be able to make anything combat-worthy with so little time."
Percy crossed his arms. "So you were testing me."
"I'm always testing," she said. "The gods don't hand out gifts, boy. We offer tools, riddles, edges. You shaped yours with blood, mana, and a flicker of cleverness. I only guided your hand."
He looked down at his hands now—faintly glowing, humming with residual energy from the offering. His fingers flexed, and the magic within stirred in response.
"This Thread of Destinies thing…" he murmured. "Is it safe?"
Hekate laughed. "Oh, absolutely not. But neither is breathing in a world that hunts you."
A beat of silence passed between them.
He murmured. "So basically I can just look at someone and spy on their possible future? Like a spyglass for fate."
"I did say it was rare," Hekate said idly, circling him in the air. "Treat it carefully. You may not like what you see."
"Let's find out."
He turned to her, excitement boiling up.
"Thread of Destinies," he said aloud, focusing on her silhouette.
A soft hum, the flicker of mana pulsing through his mind—
[Target resists the effect. Divine resistance: High. Skill failed.]
Percy staggered. "Ow. That actually gave me a headache."
Hekate smirked. "You tried to peer into the threads of my fate? Bold."
"I figured I'd start with the strongest target." He rubbed his temples. "So much for that."
She gave a dismissive wave. "Try something less volatile. Like a tree. Or a rabbit."
Percy huffed. "Let's see…"
Looking around his room, his eyes focussed on a piece of paper.
"Thread of Destinies."
Nothing.
[Target lacks any significant fate crossroads. Skill failed.]
"Okay, this is getting annoying."
Percy sighed and looked around the empty apartment. No one else was home. No other targets.
A grin slowly spread across his face.
"Wait… it does say it works on anyone in sight."
Without hesitation, he jogged down the hallway to his bathroom, flicked on the light, and shut the door behind him.
His reflection stared back at him from the mirror—tired, wild-eyed, but determined.
He took a deep breath, focused his mana, and whispered:
"Thread of Destinies."
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the air shimmered.
[Skill Activated: Thread of Destinies]
[Target: Self]
Three fractured images flickered into his vision.
Then a images surfaced—hazy, half-formed, yet vibrant with meaning.
Percy saw a taller version of himself walking over a hill with someone on his back breathing hard, his clothes torn, wet, and dirty with mud. In his hand was a broken, curved horn—jagged. A guant tree loomed ahead, and behind them, a crowd of demigods watched in silence as he crossed the boundary. He looked back once—just once—at the body of the Minotaur dissolving behind him.
Percy's breath hitched. "That was me."
Percy blinked. Was that… a camp?
The image dissolved into the next—
Him, now older, stood atop a broken skyscraper. Fires blazed across the distant skyline. He faced a blazing figure wreathed in flame, his skin golden and eyes burning with wrath. Around them, the city groaned as if it, too, were alive. He raised a hand, and the skies responded—lightning, storms, the earth cracking beneath his feet. He shaped the waters at his side into jagged constructs—swords, chains, lances—and launched them with deadly precision.
Then, the final vision—
He knew it was Olympus, even though he'd never been there before. White marble pillars stretched into the sky, glowing with divine energy. And there—standing across from him—was a blonde-haired man with golden eyes and a sword made of twin metals. They were alone. No allies. No crowd. Just silence and tension, as the two of them circled one another like predators.
The vision vanished.
Percy staggered back, heart pounding.
"That was… me."
A voice drifted softly from the doorway.
"Seeing your own future is always the hardest," Hekate said gently.
He didn't turn.
"They're possibilities," she continued. "Paths, not certainties. Maybe none all will come true."
Percy exhaled slowly, eyes fixed on the empty mirror.
"Still… better than walking blind."
Percy stayed still for a long moment, hands gripping the sink. His breathing finally slowed, but the images—those three visions—still burned behind his eyes.
The camp. The Minotaur. That horn in his hand. It felt more relevant than the other two somehow. Like something was pulling him toward it.
He remembered the reward.
The title. The favor. And one question per year—any question, as long as it wasn't related fate.
He stepped back from the mirror and focused. "I want to use my question."
The air behind him shimmered with silver light.
Hekate magically appeared—floating cross-legged in the air, arms lazily folded. She arched an eyebrow. "Already? You barely had it for five minutes."
Percy shrugged. "You never said I couldn't use it now."
She gave a small chuckle. "Very well, little protégé. Ask."
He took a breath. "The place I saw in the first vision. With the archway, the pine tree on the hill, the people behind the magic barrier… Where is that?"
Hekate tilted her head. For a moment, she was quiet—measuring, weighing.
Then she spoke. "That is Camp Half-Blood. A sanctuary for demigods like you. It sits hidden on the North Shore of Long Island, protected by wards and ancient magic. The tree is no ordinary pine—it marks the boundary line. You were crossing into safety."
Percy stared at her. "So it's real."
"Just as real as the blood in your veins."
He hesitated. "Can I go there?"
She descended to the floor, expression serious now. "You will. But not yet."
"Why not?"
"Because if you go now," she said, "They will take you."
The room grew colder.
Hekate's voice softened, but lost none of its weight. "There are those who watch for early bloomers. And your spark burns bright already. If you go, they'll come for you before you're strong enough to stop them."
Percy swallowed.
"Stay hidden. Grow. Learn. When the time is right, the camp will call to you."
She gave him a small, almost kind smile. "And when you do arrive… carry that horn with pride."
He blinked. "So it really was the Minotaur."
"I said no questions about fate," she warned, though her smirk betrayed amusement. "Besides, you already knew."
Percy looked down at his hands. They were shaking.
Not with fear.
With anticipation.
Hekate's form shimmered and began to fade.
"I'll be watching, Percy Jackson. Don't disappoint me."
And with that, she vanished, leaving him alone—alone with knowledge, and a power he was only beginning to understand.