So, ahem, this is a bit late. I don't even know how many people will read this, or even remember my story, but here it is. The ending. How I planned to end this epic trilogy.

I can't apologize enough for not finishing it, but like I said, I've moved on. The writing style is fun, but I have other projects (and school) to focus on now. Hopefully, someday, I'll alter this story and turn it into a book. If so, all my subscribers can get a free copy.

Anyway, aside from my rambling, here's the end of Brotherband. She's a long 'un, with a hells-lot of fighting and a little bit of deep stuff. The ending gave me shivers to be writing it, and I hope in some way it does the same to you.

And so we go

Where we left of:

Up top: the crew of the Argo left Greece on a quest to track down the killer of the oracle by command of Abderus. Out at sea, Malcolm draws up a plan for five of them to depart to go try to bring Percy back while the rest stay up top and look for the killer.

Underworld: Percy, after fighting off the army of Atlas, is talking to Luke about how his brother took over when a messenger comes and warns him that something is happening with the temple.

That's what's happened roughly up to this point. Annabeth, Thalia, Nico, Stelios and Jason leave to go to Pompeii, the Lost City that they were talking about, while Malcolm, Clarisse, Will Solace and the crew are left to hunt down the killer. This is where I was gonna develop some of the minor characters.

Meanwhile, Percy and Luke go on a mission in the Underworld to try to sneak into Atlas's castle to see if they can find out more about the Strimmena and what's happened to the rest of the dead souls. They manage to get in and sneak into the basement of the palace, where to their surprise they find Hades chained up. He tells them about how the souls are being held passed the river Styx and how the Strimmena are the old spirits of Greek warriors— Achilles, Hercules, all those guys— who were forced by Atlas to fight for his cause. The magic needed to bend their will so they fought against Greeks was so strong it bent their bodies as well.

At this point they're discovered and forced to fight their way out. Luke engages Atlas in a duel on the steps of the palace while Percy uses the water in the pond to keep the Strimmena at bay. Just when they're about to be overwhelmed, Hades manages to briefly break the chains holding him in place and summon enough soldiers for Percy and Luke to escape.

Up top, the crew tracks down the killer across various cities before they manage to corner them. Will Solace is the one who takes them in and Clarisse leads the interrogation until they finally admit to being hired by Calypso to kill the oracle. The crew goes back to the Argo, intent on returning to Greece, but find the harbour they docked in surrounded by British ships. They surrender for the time, but draw up a plan to escape.

Jason and co. have to travel through what used to be the heart of Greece in order to reach Pompeii. There they find the temple of Mnemosyne and inside a stone that's said to restore all lost memories. They take it but are also captured by British and taken back to England.

In the Underworld, Percy leads an attack to break through Atlas's lines and free all the souls of the underworld. Using the Styx as a weapon Percy is able to get through and the Greeks free the captured souls, before enlisting them to their cause. Then, with an army of over a million ghosts they march onto Atlas's palace. There's a battle where Percy faces off with his brother and comes out victorious, disarming Atlas before his brother retreats, taking his army with him. Here, there's a conflict— Percy can either leave now or continue the fight until he's sure Atlas is gone. Luke urges him to go back to the surface, bidding him to return when it's his time. Percy heads up a tunnel and into the light.

Up top, the captured crew of the Argo are brought to the British King, who says that he would like to kill them but instead wants to help them bring Percy back and restore his memories.

This is where the third story would start.

Once this happens, the King forces the Argo, reunited with their Captain and with a squad of British fleets, to sail across the Endless Ocean in search of the new land.

They find it and shenanigans occur— you know, them meeting the natives, discovering an entire new world— but then word reaches them that the British only wanted them out of the way so his invasion of Greece would be easier. This is helped along by the fact that King Pavlos passed away due to a heart attack and Greece is without a leader.

The crew of the Argo kill their British escorts and board the Argo. With Percy and Jason working together and the gods on their side they make the journey back to Greece in just three days, where they arrive in time for Percy to take charge.

This is where I bring in other cultures. There's a lot more involved, but in short he enlists the help of the Japanese, the Scandinavians and desert warriors to try to help fend of the British. The British counter, though— by discovering the new world they found a treasure trove of resources that has allowed them to hire France, Spain and Germany to their cause.

The Greeks, sensing that the stones of time are turning and their time is coming to an end, decide to die a Beautiful Death— no negotiations, no surrender, battle to the last man. Annabeth draws up a battle plan that will allow them to last the longest: armies in Teutland, Plains of Modriar and North-western fronts slowly fall back as the British advance the Greek military holds the Eastern Ocean, while Percy takes the Argo to make a last stand with their backs to the Rocks of Tallite, a narrow strip of water that the Argo could hold almost indefinitely against a number of ships.

I'm going to pick up the story here: the British are advancing and have already taken and burned Troy. The city of Greece is doomed to fall, and after a talk with his father (Poseidon) Percy realized what he has to do. Reyna and Abderus are charged with the most important mission ever for Greece: track down Chiron the centaur and enlist him to keep the legend of Greece alive.

Then, with all matters settled, I'll bring the chapter in with the first wave of British ships advancing, with only the Argo to hold them off. There's nothing left for the Greeks to do but die.

Annabeth

They came just after sunrise.

For three days the Argo had been anchored at the entrance to the Rocks of Tallite, a thin strip of sea that wound between two narrows cliffs for a couple of kilometers before opening up into the ports that led to Greece. Here, it had been decided, we would hold off the British Navy and give the city time to evacuate. Here we would do our best to deal a blow to the Brits. Here, we would make them pay for invading Greece.

Here, we would die.

The shout went up from the lookout and within minutes the Greeks had assembled on the deck of the Argo. I was one of the first up, clipping my breastplate into place and shoving my knife into its cheat as I went. We had been expecting an attack for the past two days, and we knew that it would be coming soon— the British were getting closer and closer in their quest to destroy Greece.

As soon as I reached the deck I could see them. The distance was too great to make out individual ships, but I could see the dark shape of them, their sails arcing into the sky, their cannons jutting out over the sea. It was a formidable squadron, I had no doubt— the British would have sent their best, most advanced ships first in hopes to wipe us out quickly.

"Report," Percy barked, striding onto the deck. He was decked out in his shining silver armour, with his shield slung over his back and Riptide held loosely in his right hand. His black hair was swept off to one side and his sea-green eyes still carried a hint of laughter, despite all that happened to him as of late. When he saw me, the hint of a smile flashed across his face.

"Looks like six or eight ships," Jason said, appearing out of the crowd of Greeks. He was dressed in solid gold armour, his blue eyes shining with a bright light. I had noticed that most of the Greeks seemed to have a certain bounce to their step as of late, almost as if the thought of an impeding battle had them excited.

"Only eight?" Percy asked, his tone light. Jason gave a grin, his eyes flashing hard.

"The British underestimate us," he said, and Percy smiled in return.

"It'll be the last thing they do," he promised, before turning to me. "What say you, Annabeth? Should we engage them?"

I took a second to assess the situation before shaking my head. "Our position is stronger here," I replied, gesturing to the narrow cliffs behind us. "We can use the cliffs to cover our rear— the British ships won't be maneuverable enough to get in close, so we'll just have to face them head on."

"Our armored plating will protect us from the cannons," Percy added. I nodded.

"All we have to do is sit in the opening and keep firing the ballista's at them," I confirmed. "We won't even have to risk damaging the ship." Percy was nodding in agreement as I laid out the battle plan.

"You got all that, Jason?" he asked, and the first mate nodded.

"Sounds good to me, Perce," he answered. "I'll tell Leo to get us into position." Just as Percy was nodding, the scout called down from his perch on the crow's nest.

"Ships advancing!" he called out. "They're spreading out, too."

"Looks like they're not waiting for the rest of the fleet," Percy said. He turned back to Jason. "Lets get into position," he ordered, and the first mate nodded. He headed off to relay the orders to Leo as Percy moved across the deck, clapping Greeks on the back and greeting them with friendly words.

They all knew what was going happen. A buzz of anticipation filled the deck as they hurried around, loading the slingshots and preparing themselves for the fight. Extra shields were brought up to protect the deck from lose cannonballs as the Argo started to move, sails unfurling in the wind as Leo steered us back to the safety of the Tallite rocks.

Percy stepped up onto the masthead of the Argo and grabbed a nearby rope for support, leaning out over the water as it raced by below the ship. It was turning into a beautiful day as the sun continued to rise over the horizon, illuminating a clear blue sky and shimmering emerald water— exactly the colour of Percy's eyes.

Hector of Troy detached himself from the crowd and moved towards us, a scroll clenched tightly in his hand. Immediately Percy swung back down back onto the deck and went to meet him, his brow furrowing. I had no doubt it was updates from the front, and they could be only one thing— bad.

"News?" Percy asked, and Hector nodded. His eyes were clouded.

"Troy has fallen," he responded tightly, holding out the scroll for Percy to see. He did so, scanning it briefly. His frowned deepened and he passed it on to me, before gripping Hector.

"I'm sorry to here that, brother," he said, his voice wrought with pain. "I know how much that city meant to you."

"It meant a lot to all of us," Hector replied. Then his face split into a tight grin. "And now it means a lot to the British, too. Four British divisions were lost before they even breached the outer walls."

"That must mean we're the last of the defenders," I added, quickly examining the scroll. Troy has fallen. Last I hear, the Franco-German alliance had broken through on the plains of Modriar and were pressing forwards to Greece. I looked at Percy. "It's just us now." Percy nodded along and looked out at the fleet of ships, which were still advancing.

"The Last of the Greek Army," he said quietly, sharing a look with me. "Can you imagine such a title?"

By this point Leo had successfully maneuvered the Argo into the shade of the rocks of Tallite and positioned us to face the oncoming boats. They were drawing closer and I could see the fact that there were indeed nine boats, spread out into an arrowhead formation as they bore down of us. The middle one was a large, three-tired gunship, huge and imposing, almost as tall as the Argo itself. The other eight were smaller two-leveled battleships, sleek and maneuverable, equipped with eight sails to help them dance around opponents. It was a formidable showing, but it was nothing compared to the Argo.

The crew stood at ease, watching the ships draw closer. I could make out a figure standing on the bow of the lead ship, a massive axe held above its head.

It almost looked like—

From beside me, Percy reached the same conclusion.

"Marshall," he hissed, his voice low and dangerous.

William Marshall in the flesh, the famous knight from Britain, here to lead the attack. Last time I had seen him it was on the plains of Modriar as he was getting dragged back behind their lines while we fought a desperate battle to get to the Spring of Immortality.

"Positions," Percy said softly. Stelios of Sparta, who was dressed for battle and standing next to his King, barked the order.

As one the Greeks moved, swarming across the deck as if they had trained their whole lives for it. Half of them moved to the rail, where the ballista's and the slingshots sat waiting, while the other half moved to tend the sails.

Percy himself bound across the deck in long strides, leaping up onto Festus's head and drawing Riptide with a clean Shrink. He held the sword above his head and bellowed, "MARSHALL!"

The cry echoed across the water and the figure turned ever so slightly, focusing on the Prince— the King, I had to remind myself. Then, slowly, William Marshal lowered his battleaxe to his side.

As one the ships came to a stop, their sails going lose and their water brakes slamming into place. Percy's brow furrowed and he turned towards me, but all I could do was shrug. It made no sense for the British to pull up and lose the momentum of their charge.

And then they started chanting, low at first but gaining in volume. I moved to stand next to Percy, Hector and Stelios following close behind. The four of us stood there at the edge of the ship, staring at the British fleet barely seven hundred meters away as their cry steadily gained volume.

"What are they saying?" Percy wondered aloud. I tilted my head, listening, trying to focus on the sound. It was one word, repeated over and over again, swelling high into the morning air.

"It sounds almost like—"

"It's Troy," Hector said, his green eyes burning like fire. "They're chanting 'Troy'."

Sure enough, as soon as he said it the wordless chant gained meaning and I was able to pick up the one word, belted out into the air by the British as they stood their, weapons thrust into the air in unison with their battle cry. They were mocking us, I realized. Mocking the Prince of Troy himself.

It was one of the worst mistakes I could think of.

Percy jumped down off the mast, his eyes blazing, Riptide clenched tightly in his hands.

"Forget sitting around and playing defense," he growled. The anger that was radiating from him was matched only by Hector himself. "We attack now like the heroes we are." Looking around him at the assembled crew, he thrust Riptide high into the air. "Greeks! To your stations! Lets bring the fight to them, boys!"

A unanimous cheer went up from the assembled crew and them they moved. In a second the sails had dropped into place and the Argo leaped forwards under our feet, accelerating with speed that was still breathtaking to me despite all the time I had spent on it.

"Jason," Percy called out to the first mate, who was standing by Leo at the helm. "The first ship is yours. Nico, you take the second one with Stelios and Hector." He raised his voice. "The rest of you, board and kill. Just like the old days. No quarter, no mercy. Lets make the British pay for what they've done!" The Greeks cheered in response and moved to the railing, prepared to leap over it and attack the British.

I was slightly uneasy with this plan. Charging when we were outnumbered nine to one hadn't been my plan, but Percy was on the warpath now and there was no stopping him. Instead I stepped to his side, my knife drawn in my hand, shield slung over my back.

"What are we doing?" I asked him, my eyes fixated on the approaching ships. His eyes flitted to me and he smiled.

"We're going for the flagship," he replied, his eyes alight. "And there I'm going to kill William Marshall." I nodded, relishing the thought in my head.

Percy looked at me for a long instant more and then stuck out his hand, clasping me by the forearm. I had to admit, I was mildly surprised at this gesture. Not once had Percy done it with me.

"You're as Greek as any of us, Annabeth," Percy said, his expression softening for the barest of seconds. "May the gods keep the wolves in your hills."

"And the women in your beds," I answered. Then, under my breath, "As long as they're me."

I looked up to see the British ships looming closer. The chant of Troy was still rolling across the water, seeming to put even more wind in the Argo's sails; I had never felt the ship move this fast before.

Percy crouched down next to me, sword and shield drawn, eyes alight with the thrill of the battle. The rest of the Greeks gathered near the railing, ducking behind the shields as our ships advanced.

The nearest of the British convoy fired a round of cannons at us, shaking the deck and sending splinters of wood flying, but the Argo barely slowed. Leo swung us in a wide arc for the final approach and then just like that we were bearing down on the nearest ship.

Percy look up at Jason, nodded and barked "GO!"

The son of Jupiter rose from his crouch and ran towards the edge of the Argo. Leo spun the wheel around, dropping half the sails and slamming on the water breaks and the Argo turned ninety degrees, front end swinging around in a controlled arc. Jason used this to his advantage, gaining momentum from the maneuver as he sprinted the last couple of steps, placed a foot on the railing and launched himself into the air.

There was still fifty feet between us and the first ship.

They fired a volley of cannons, but we were already moving around, sails coming back down as Leo steered the Argo towards the next ship. I watched Jason as he seemed to fly over the gap, his sword held aloft in the air, silhouetted against the morning sun as he went until he was just a shadow, soaring across the sky.

And then, all at once, the sun was blotted out by clouds.

Lighting split the sky with an earth-shattering crack, coming down from the heavens and connecting with the tip of Jason's sword. The Son of Jupiter brought it down in a terrifying arc, yelling a defiant battle cry as he landed blade-first, with what seemed like the entire power of Olympus behind his strike.

The first ship split in half from deck to keel.

The impact rocked the water, sending British flying with the shockwave it created. Jason was moving before they could recover, tearing across the deck, his sword a pinwheel of light and electricity as he ripped through the British ranks uncontested.

Another signal from Percy sent Nico, Stelios and Hector on their way. The Son of Hades didn't even need a shadow to run into; his body seemed to melt away into the deck of the ship and then he appeared on the closest battleship, his black sword drawn, his dark eyes looking like tunnels to the pits of the Underworld.

Hector had no such abilities, nor did he need them. He copied Jason, launching himself off the deck and landing on the British ship in a roll. He came up with his sword drawn and cut down the nearest privateer, before blocking a strike and lunging forwards. His sword snaked out and the offending man fell, dead before he hit the ground.

Someone fired from point-blank range. Hector took the shot off his shield but the impact sent him stumbling back and he briefly lost his balance, stumbling backwards. His guard dropped momentarily and the man lunged forwards victoriously, bayonet flashing as he struck.

Stelios of Sparta seemed to appear out of nowhere, knocking the gun away and then spinning in a circle, his sword taking the privateer in the neck. Hector nodded briefly in thanks and then the two lunged forwards, swords moving in unison as they made their way through the British ranks.

"Bring us around, Leo!" Percy yelled, raising his voice over the din of the battle. We had broken the British ranks and they were scrambling back into position, trying to surround us and use their numbers to their advantage. The Argo, however, was putting up a fight; with Leo behind the helm and Percy helping him out with the sea, the Argo seemed to dance around the comparably slow British ships.

Leo waved in acknowledgement and swung the wheel in a wide circle. The sails tightened up and we shot forwards, pointed straight for the three-leveled flagship.

I saw hatches popping open along the hull of the ship and realized what was going to happen. "Hit the deck!" I screamed, diving down and covering myself with my shield. The rest of the Greeks did the same as all three levels of cannons fired with an ear-splitting retort. I felt a cannon ball whistle by my head as the deck shook with impact. I had no doubt that out armour had been breached with that hit— not even Celestial Bronze could stand for an impact like that.

Percy knew it too, because when he emerged from below his shield his eyes were blazing. The British had just made it personal by damaging his ship, and now he was going to make them pay.

"GREEKS!" he yelled, wielding Riptide above it head. "On me!"

The Argo drew closer to the flagship.

Percy tensed from beside me.

I could see William Marshall, dressed in his golden armour, standing in the second ranks of British. They were trying to scramble a firing line but the Greeks were shooting back, bows and slingshots wrecking havoc on their formations. By the time they managed to assemble, I thought, it would be too late.

And then, with a bone-jarring impact, Leo rammed the flagship in a shower of cracked beams and flying splinters. I stumbled with the impact, quickly regaining my step and adjusting the grip on my knife.

"CHARGE!" Percy yelled, bursting across the deck in a flat-out sprint. I followed him, feeling my pupils dilate and my pulse quicken as the fight drew closers. I could see the British brace for us, trying to re-gather their defensive line that had been broken when we rammed them.

Percy jumped clean over the first ranks, aimed straight for Marshall. Riptide split the air, going for the Knights neck, but he was took quick for that. In a blur, Marshall brought his axe up to block the strike and then lunged with his shield, slamming Percy out of the way. The Prince twisted in mid air and hit the deck hard, rolling to his feet and skidding to a stop. Before he could attack Marshall again, the rest of the Greeks joined the fight and the two of them were distracted as the deck turned into a scene of chaos.

I was right at the front of the charge, slamming one privateer out of the way and then spinning under a sword strike, coming up with my knife first. I felt it sink into someone's leg and wrenched it free, simultaneously kicking flat-footed at a nearby man. He went down as I stood straight up, shield at the ready, scanning my eyes for someone to fight.

Percy had been backed up to the other side of the deck by a swarm of British but seemed to be holding his own. William Marshall was cutting his way through the swarm of Greeks, massive battle axe carving through armour and skin alike.

I knew I had to do something to distract him. So, taking a deep breath, I readjusted my grip of my knife and bellowed out, "Marshall!"

He turned towards me and I charge, feinting to the left and then jumping up to the right like I had seen Percy do so many times before. He dodge my knife strike and swung his axe in an almost lazy arc. I dodged backwards, letting it skim by my chest before lunging forwards, slamming my shield into his nose.

The famous knight grunted and stumbled back, disengaging for a moment. I felt a flame of satisfaction in my chest at the shock on his face.

Bet you didn't expect that, huh?

I charged again, my knife up, ready for his swing. Sure enough he lunged forwards, axe cleaving horizontally in a haymaker swing that would have killed most other fighters. I had been expecting it though; I dropped to my knees and slid underneath the strike, popping up behind him and driving my knife forwards to the back of his neck.

William Marshall spun with incredible speed, dodging the strike and slashing diagonally with his axe. I took it high off my shield and retreated, readying my knife for the next attack.

Now that the element of surprise had worn off, I knew he had the advantage again. His massive battleaxe was at least five times longer then my knife, and the speed of which he wielded it with was unparalleled. He was stronger and faster than I was, I knew, so I would have to fight smart.

My train of thought was interrupted when he lunged forwards, axe swinging in a massive overhead swing. I immediately lunged forwards, trying to get inside the reach of the giant weapon, but he shoved me back with his kite-shaped shield and drove down with his axe. I was sent flying backwards, desperately trying to block the axe swing with my knife.

Using the technique I had seen Percy execute I swung my blade in a counter-motion at the last second, deflecting the strike at a diagonal angle. Still, the force behind the blow knocked the knife right out of my hands and I was forced to scrambled backwards, rolling over to regain my feet and switching my shield into a two-handed grip.

I met his next few blows like that, ducking nimbly off the side and deflecting them away, but I knew I was only stalling for time. Without my knife I had no hope of taking him down, and no matter which way I moved he always seemed to be in-between me and it.

Finally, one of his swings caught the lip of my shield and I was sent stumbling, releasing the disk of metal in order to keep my balance. He swung again and I ducked underneath it, tripping over my own feet and landing hard on the deck. I rolled over just in time to see him bring in the axe up in a two-handed blow, ready to end my life.

Just as it began to swing downwards, a bronze blur came out of nowhere and intercepted the strike, sending it off to the side so the axe bit into the deck next to me. I rolled frantically off to the side, leaping back to my feet and making a dive for my knife.

And then—

"MARSHALL!"

Percy's shield spun across the deck and caught William Marshall in the chest, sending him stumbling back away from me. Next thing I knew the Prince— because I couldn't think of him as the King yet— had vaulted forwards and caught Marshall with a kick to the chest that sprawled him on the deck.

Percy ducked down, scooped up Riptide and turned to face Marshall just as the knight regained his footing. His eyes narrowed before his face split into a wide grin.

"The doomed Prince," he snarled, hate twisting every word he spoke. "I was hoping it would come to this."

"That's King to you," Percy growled, his swords up and ready. "And my soul isn't the one that's doomed. I'll see to that personally."

Marshall yelled in anger and lunged forwards, stamping out with his left foot and driving his axe in a sledgehammer blow. Percy deflected it out of the way easily before going on the attack, hammering down three lightning-quick strikes that Marshall was forced to take off of his shield.

On the fourth swing Marshall lunged forwards, slamming Percy back and following up with a lightning-quick swing. The Prince blocked it with Riptide and cut backhand; Marshall casually leaned out of the way and swung again. Their two blades screeched together again and Percy leaped to the side, dodging the next two cuts with an almost casual ease.

"You know," he said conversationally, parrying a strike before launching a series of blows that drove William Marshall back across the deck. The two disengaged momentarily and Percy was able to finish his thought. "They'll be talking about this battle the next thousand years."

"Of course," Marshall replied, swinging his axe in small circles, preparing for his next attack. "Why do you think I am here?"

"They'll be talking about our fight for millennia to come," Percy emphasized. "Historians will be debating between the two of us. They'll wonder who was a better fighter."

"Your point?" Marshall demanded. I could tell his guard was high; he was expecting some kind of trick.

"I'm curious, too," Percy shrugged, Riptide hanging loosely from his side. I was watching anxiously, looking for a chance to intervene and take Marshall by surprise. "So lets settle it." Marshall tiled his head, and I could tell Percy had his attention. The Prince knew, as well, because his face broke out into a vicious smile.

"Right here. Right now," he offered. "Sword to sword. Man on man. No one to interfere. Just the two of us, the greatest fighters of this generation. Let's silence the historians before they can start to debate. Our blades will do the talking for us." In saying this, he stabbed Riptide into the deck and stepped back, arms wide, challenging Marshall to attack him.

The Knight thought about it for several seconds, his eyes narrowed, his expression clouded. Then, almost as if he was in a trance, he let his shield fall to the ground. His axe followed, thumping down onto the wooden deck and laying there.

William Marshall drew his cavalry sword with a resounding shrink, holding it up so it glinted in the light. Percy smiled his wolf smile and pulled Riptide out from the deck, rapidly spinning it from hand to hand before dropping into a ready position.

"No one shall interfere," he called out, half to Marshall and half to is own men.

"Only the weapons we have on us," the Knight agreed, testing his sword with small swings. His blade was longer, I knew, but Percy's would be lighter and faster and could possibly have the slightest edge in skill. I watched from the side, my stomach clenched in fear.

"To the death," the Prince said, his green eyes glinting with hatred.

And then in a blur of silver, William Marshall struck in what had to have been the fastest attack I had ever seen.

Linebreak

With a movement so fast my eyes could barely follow the famous knight lunged forwards, feinting right with his sword and swinging his left fist in a brutal punch that was strong enough to crush Percy's skull. I heard a collective gasp go up across the deck as the Greek's saw the speed of his attack. It was breathtaking. It was impossible.

Percy was faster.

The Prince of Greece dodged liquidly to the side, spinning around the punch and cutting backhand with Riptide. Marshall retained his balance and ducked the swing, bringing his sword around in a quick, vicious jab. Holding Riptide two-handed Percy parried, letting the blade slide by him and stepping forwards, aiming a kick for Marshall's head.

The Knight dodged to the side and charged forwards, aiming to slam Percy with his shoulder. He was able to dodge, but Marshall followed up with his fist, punching in the side of his stomach where there was no armor. The Prince doubled over and Marshall pressed his advantage, swinging around with an overhead stroke that was aimed at Percy's neck.

He threw himself forwards, rolling and coming up just in time to parry Marshall's next swing. From a kneeling position Percy took two more strike on his blade, before ducking to the side and letting the third one sail by him. Gaining a moment of respite he was able to get to his feet again, putting distance between himself and Marshall and regarding his opponent with a cautious eye.

"You're faster than I remember," he complimented, swinging Riptide idly. Up until this moment the fight had been fairly even, but my stomach was still tight with fear. I knew one wrong move could result in the end of the fight; Percy's life— and the legacy of Greece— could come down to a millimeter's difference in a swing.

"And you seem to have lost your invincibility," Marshall commented. Percy grinned.

"In the end, we're all mortals," he shrugged, lunging forwards with Riptide held in a two-handed grip. Marshall moved to meet him and the two met on the middle of the deck, swords coming together in a clash of sparks. What followed was maybe the fastest sword exchange I had ever seen; in a blur of silver and bronze the two fighters were backing away from each other and William Marshall was nursing a cut on his left arm. I blinked in surprise; I hadn't even seen him get injured.

"Not bad," the knight said idly, adjusting his grip on his sword. "But let me try again."

"Ready when you are," Percy snarled, striding forward with his blade spinning. He accelerated to a run in the last couple of steps and met Marshall in the middle of the deck, their swords blurring together and striking sparks into the air. This time the two of them stayed locked together, ducking and weaving and dodging in an intricate dance that was too fast to comprehend. One second it seemed like Percy had the upper hand; the next he was being driven backwards across the deck in a flurry of blows. Then, in a lighting-fast maneuver he ducked under a swing and lunged forwards, immediately putting Marshall on the defensive again.

I was aware of the battle around us slowly winding down as the Greeks gained control of the other ships. Just as Percy had ordered, they were taking no prisoners; any British who had surrendered were thrown off the ships and into the water below. Once that was done and all the Greeks had been evacuated, Leo would sink the ship and move on to the next one. In a matter of minutes we had been able to take out an entire British fleet with just the Argo.

But the fight wasn't over yet.

Percy and Marshall were still spinning across the deck, their swords buzzing through the air. So far they had shown no signs of tiring, but something told me that the fight was going to be over soon— one way or another.

Marshall seemed to sense the same thing. He spun away from Percy and disengaged momentarily, seeming to realize for the first time that the battle was winding down around him.

"Where are my men?" he demanded, taking a threatening step towards Percy.

"Dead," the Prince replied coldly. "Just like you will be soon."

With a scream of rage Marshall lunged forwards, his sword cleaving in a massive overhand cut. Percy ducked nimbly to the side and swung in reply, but the Knight casually blocked it off his arm guard.

"You've gained nothing!" Marshall yelled at the Prince, taking another couple of haymaker swings. Percy retreated quickly, managing to dodge them without even needing to raise his blade. "Soon, the next fleet will arrive. And then the one after that. And after that. You cannot hold off an entire army, Prince of Greece."

"Many have underestimated the Argo," Percy replied. "Few have lived to tell the tale."

"There is no way you can stand against the might of the British army," Marshall warned him. "They will rain the fires of hell upon you. Your ship will crumple. Your legacy will be destroyed. You are outnumber a million to one."

"Good odds for any Greek," Percy retorted. "You and I are but the same, Marshall. There is no way you can leave this boat alive."

"Maybe not," the Knight snarled, seemingly driven insane by Percy's casual demeanor. "But if I die, it will not be at your hands. My name will forever be immortalized as the one that killed the King of Greece."

And then William Marshall lunged forwards on the attack, his sword coming around in an underhand strike that started at his hip and drove upwards, aimed for Percy's neck.

Things seemed to happen in slow motion.

The Prince seemed to uncoil from his ready position, his pupils dilating and his eyes blurring as he tracked the swing. I saw his muscles tense and then relax as he fluidly moved off to the, intending to duck into and under the swing.

His foot caught on a damaged plank of wood and he stumbled awkwardly, losing his balance. His left hand came up involuntarily as he braced himself for impact with the ground.

And impact, I realized, that would never happen.

Percy was falling right into William Marshall's swing.

The Knight realized this and fully committed to the attack, driving forwards with his knees and using the rotation of his hips to spring forwards. His mouth came open in a victorious scream, but I didn't hear it; my hearing dulled and my vision seemed to blur as Percy toppled towards his death.

It was because of this I almost missed the brilliance of the maneuver.

Riptide came around in a short swing, catching Marshall's blade at the halfway point and deflecting it high. Percy turned his fall into a controlled roll and sprang up, instantly reversing his grip on Riptide and stabbing blindly backwards.

I saw the blade hit an off-balance William Marshall in the back of the thigh.

The Knight roared in pain and tried to recover, but Percy gave his sword a savage twist that drove William Marshall to his knees. Then Percy freed it and came back to the feet, striding around so he could face Marshall head-on.

The knight tried to rise, but Percy kicked him back down and brought Riptide up to strike. Marshall stared at him blankly, observing Riptide as it hovered in a killing stroke. I saw his right hand clench tightly around the hilt of his sword, and recognized the final dignity that could be found in a dying warrior.

"That one was for Troy," Percy snarled. Marshall looked up at him, the ghost of a smile touching his bearded, aristocratic features.

"You and I are not so different, Prince," he said, his voice softer than I had ever heard it. "Both men of the King. Both trying to serve our country as best as we could. When it comes down to it, what is there that separates us?"

"I never invaded a foreign country," Percy replied, his eyes blazing. "Never killed an innocent person. Never stood by and watched a village burn."

"For King and Crown," Marshall mumbled, his eyes drifting towards the horizon. "What other powers motivate men to go to war? What do we fight for, Prince?"

"Your fight is over," Percy said tightly, adjusting his blade on the grip.

"I never once thought I would know what it felt like to lose," Marshall commented idly. His gaze went back to Percy. "You were a worthy fighter."

"The same to you," Percy admitted. "I'll grant you a clean death. A warriors death."

"And my blade," Marshall requested. "See to it I'm buried with it by my side." At this, Percy nodded.

"It will accompany you to the ocean's floor," he promised, and Marshall seemed pleased by this. He nodded several times, before looking up at the sky.

"Now we shall truly see which of our gods exist, Prince of Greece," he said. "I hope history won't be too harsh on me."

Percy raised his blade, the celestial bronze glinting off the sunlight. Marshall closed his eyes and bowed his head, his lips parting in one final prayer. It was under his breath, but I could read his lips and new every line of what he was about to say.

Our Father, who art in heaven

Hallowed be thy name

Your Kingdom come,

Your will be done

On earth—

Percy brought Riptide screaming down in a smooth swing. The razor-sharp edge of his sword connected with William Marshall's neck and the knight toppled to the ground, his helmet bouncing off the deck a few feet away.

—as it is in heaven.

I moved to stand beside Percy, who was staring at the fallen knight with a blank face, his eyes clouded.

"Why did you grant him that?" I asked, and green eyes flicked up to meet mine. It was clear that Percy didn't understand, so I elaborated. "He didn't deserve that. He was savage. He killed thousands, hundreds of them innocent. He was a monster."

"In the end, we're all humans," Percy replied, sheathing Riptide and turning away from the fallen knight. "Throw him overboard. See to it that his sword is tied to his hand." As he walked away, Percy glanced up to the sky as if he was looking to heaven. For a second, his green eyes were very far away, as if entrapped by some angelical message.

Then the Prince of Greece nodded, once, and turned back towards the deck, raising his fist in a victorious gesture to where the rest of the Greeks were assembled.

That was when the cheering started.

Linebreak

We were up the rest of the day and most of the night repairing the Argo. The volley of cannons had dealt a serious blow to the celestial bronze plating we had, but luckily there were extensive reserves below deck. The Greeks swarmed over the ship, hanging from the rails by ropes or working underwater to do the necessary repairs. Leo was buried below decks for hours straight, clanking around and muttering under his breath.

Percy oversaw the work, helping out where he could but mostly sitting on the masthead and running a sharpening stone up and down the blade of Riptide. I knew he would spend hours meticulously fixing his armour and shield and making sure the sword was as sharp as physically possible. All the crew would do the same; it was part of the intense ritual that made the Greeks the warriors they were.

Everyone was in a jovial mood, talking and chatting and sipping ale, but I knew they had to be thinking the same thing as me: we had handled the first fleet with relative ease, but how would our one ship hold out against larger numbers, against repetitive attacks? Charging across the open water had been an unwise decision, I knew, one that we couldn't afford to make again. Our greatest chance lay in the safety of the rocks of Tallite— the legendary rocks that had sheltered and defended Greece for so long. There were many rumours about what was special about the rocks, although no one had ever actually been atop the cliffs; trying to maneuver a ship close enough to the cliffs was too risky.

The next morning, as we had been expecting, the next wave of British ships arrived. This time, instead of an advanced fleet, it looked like an entire battlement: rows of ships line up across the horizon, small warships intermixed with larger destroyers, all flying the Union Jack with sickening pride.

The Greeks assembled on the deck and readied themselves for battle. The ballista's were all loaded and the slingshots filled with Greek fire, the boarding parties were ready, Leo was dancing back and forth across the control panel in a hyperactive exhibition of activity. I had no doubt he had a few nasty surprises for the British.

The War Council assembled near the front of the ship. Me, Percy, Hector, Stelios, Thalia, Will Solace, Clarisse, Piper, Katy Gardner, the Stoll brothers, Jason and Nico stood in a loose circle facing the oncoming fleet.

"That's a lot of boats," Percy commented idly, fiddling with the straps on his armour.

"If you look closely, there's a few of ships hiding in there too," Stelios said, squinting at the horizon. "Looks like one or two cruisers as well." A chuckle went up in the group, but even the Prince of Sparta's humour couldn't stint the effect that the approaching battlement was having on us.

"They just keep coming," Thalia muttered after a long second of silence. Sure enough, the ships kept rolling over the horizon in a wave of brown and silver.

"How many?" Percy asked, directing the question at me. I took a minute to consider, taking in the variable size of the ships and how densely they were packed, before answering,

"Two or three thousand." Percy didn't react, just nodded.

"Is that their entire navy?" Piper asked. I shook my head quickly.

"That would make up one battlement," I explained. "They have six of them, as well as another three reserve and four extra sub-fleets of a thousand ships. I'm guessing the other ones are in the Eastern ocean taking on the rest of the Greek fleet."

"So two thousand against one," Percy commented. "What's the play?"

"Everyone needs to be at their best," I said, running strategies through my mind as quickly as I could. For all intents and purposes, the odds were impossible— but we weren't going to give up yet. "We can't just stay behind the rocks— their numbers will overwhelm us too quickly. We'll need to stay mobile, keep moving and make sure we're not surrounded. The ballista's need to make sure we don't get flanked. Focus on funneling ships to the front, where Leo can take care of them. I assume he has some tricks up his sleeve?"

"More than I know," Percy grinned. "I shudder to think what he's done to my ship."

"Well, you're going to find out soon. We'll need everything we have. One thing that's good is they'll be tightly packed. That means the fire will spread easily and our boarders will be able to jump from ship to ship. Thalia, Will, I'm going to need archers firing in their second ranks."

"Why not up front?" the son of Apollo asked.

"Our ballista's will take care of the ones up close," I explained. "If we can kill the captains and sail crew of the second rank, it'll delay the advance of the ones behind and make it harder for them to press us. If we can create a buffer of ships, we'll nullify their cannons."

There was a long moment of silence, before Percy nodded and looked at his lieutenants. "You got all that?" he asked, and there were nods of confirmation all around.

"I'm going to take the crows nest," Thalia announced, fingering the arrows in her quiver. "See what havoc I can cause up there." I noticed that a fair deal of the arrows were shimmering with a silver light and wondered what would happen when they hit the British ships.

"My cabin and I will take the high deck," Will offered.

"I'm boarding," Clarisse claimed, and no one tried to argue.

"As will I," Hector said, his chin held high.

"Me too," Stelios grinned. "I'll watch your back for you."

"There aren't a lot of plants around," Katy Gardner said with a smile. "But those rocks have some moss in them. I'll see what we can do if any of the ships get to close."

"I can do defense," Piper added. "If anyone of them get on board and try to take out the ballista's. I should be able to stop them."

"Great,' Percy said, his eyes warm as his crew stepped up to the challenge. "Connor, Travis, take your cabin and join the boarding party. Sink ships. Blow stuff up. Do your thing." The twins exchanged grins. "Nico, you're also boarding, but I want you to use your shadow travel. Get in behind the lines, find the commanders and take them out. Also, if any of the boats get in any shadows, take them out."

"Oh, trust me," Nico promised, his gaze burning with a dark fire. "They're about the feel the wrath of Hades."

"That's what I like to hear," Percy smiled. "Annabeth, you're with Leo on the deck. Make sure everyone's doing their job. For this one, you're in charge."

"What will you be doing?" I asked. Percy and Jason exchanged matching wolf grins, the Captain and First mate looking for all the world like they could take on the British fleet themselves.

"We're going to show the British what happens when they take on the gods," Percy said.

Linebreak

We lay in wait in the Rocks of Tallite, with our sails down and the crew in a relaxed position on the deck. A sense of heavy silence had descended over us as the British lay a couple kilometers off of our position, preparing for their attack. There were soft mutterings amongst the Greeks, requests for a flask of water or to tighten a buckle, but other than that the atmosphere on the deck was tense.

That is, until Percy stood up.

Immediately, all eyes were fixed on the Captain. He didn't say anything, just strode in a lap around the deck, stopping to chat with the small groups, clasping forearms and sharing a joke with the Greeks. I could see Riptide hanging by his side, glimmering in the sun, and knew the blade would soon be put to use.

"Are you going to leave any for us, Prince?" One of the crew called out as Percy passed him. He was a grizzled warrior who had probably been in the navy longer than Percy had been alive, but he showed absolute deference to the Son of Poseidon.

Percy smiled along with the joke as a ripple of laughter went across the deck. "I fear there'll be plenty to go around," he replied.

"Not enough," Jason called out from where he was lounging against the deck. "For none of them carry the last name Jackson." There were more chuckles at this as Percy finished his rounds and went to stand in the middle of the deck, his sword dangling from his hand. His armour gleamed in the sun and his green eyes shone with pure excitement.

"Brothers," he called out, and I felt a sense of expectation sweep over the ship. "Sisters. Friends. Comrades of the sword. More than a year ago, we gathered in a similar position, with the Riders of Rome by our side, to try and fight off the might of the British army in a land battle. Today, I'm sorry to tell you, we have no such reinforcements. The Argo stands alone, just like she has always done, with only the wit of her crew and the power of the Gods to keep her fighting."

"This power has always been with us," Percy continued, striding up and down the deck. Riptide spun absent-mindedly in his left hand. "Followed us. Blessed us. Protected us. But now, that power is threatened by a race who does not deserve to know about the gods, much less to challenge them." And angry ripple passed over the deck as Percy raised Riptide, pointing at the British ships that lay on the horizon. "For years, the British have pursued us, skirmished us, taunted us. And now, when Greece is at her weakest, destiny has come in a full circle and it is time for the British to destroy us. I say this with no fear in my heart, for I know that Greece will live on. The legacy of our country will live on, in the sacrifice we make here, in the heroes and warriors that will continue to serve the gods long after we are gone."

"They say that in the beginning, Greece was but an idea; a small spark of thought that eventually grew into a flame, a flame that turned into to a torch, a torch that then became the greatest civilization know to man. And now, from falling hands, Greece hands her torch to you! It is now your turn to carry the legacy of your country, to bear that weight on your shoulders as we draw closer to battle." The Greeks watched him attentively as he strode across the deck, his sword up, his eyes alight with fire.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw sails unfurling as the British ships started their advance.

"You were meant to be here!" Percy screamed, and the Greeks yelled their approval. Several hammered their swords on their shields in a traditional Spartan battle cry. "You were made to be warriors! The stones of time themselves have turned to this exact date and chosen you, out of the hundreds of thousands of warriors who have walked the earth, to fight in the final battle." Another round of swords on shields, this one louder. "Let no man stand in your way! Fight with God and the Devil watching and prove to them that they are no match for the power of the Argo!" This time, the clanging sound was louder than a gunshot. Percy kept striding, his sword held aloft his head. The ship was crackling with electricity.

"No force on heaven or earth could stop us from taking this moment," Percy announced, stopping near the front of the ship. "Not even death could prevent me from being here with you today! This is our destiny! You were born, bred and trained to fight this battle! You were destined to do this! This is your time! Take it!"

A collective cheer went up from the Greeks as they thrust their swords into the air, screaming a challenge out to the British. Percy kept going, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

The British ships had started their advance.

"Brothers, I have been to the Underworld, and I have seen it in turmoil!" Percy hollered, discreetly signaling to Jason the approaching ships. The first mate nodded, and a feeling of understanding passed between them. "Greece now needs your help, in this life and the next! Can you not feel it? The boatman awaits!" This seemed to thrill the crew more than anything; their cheering overwhelmed Percy's voice for a second. He leaped right up onto Festus's head, thrust Riptide into the air and screamed, "I say we make him wait just a little bit longer!"

And then Percy dropped his sword, and at a signal from Jason the sails came down, filling with wind as the Argo took off to meet the approaching fleet.

Linebreak

It seemed that once again, Percy had completely chosen to ignore my advice as to how we should go into battle. I stood there with my arms crossed, slightly annoyed as we charged across open waters to meet the British.

"Good speech," I told Percy as he moved to stand by me at the helm.

"Seemed to work," The Prince replied, his green eyes burning. He was prepared for battle, I saw, with every muscle loose and ready. I knew that defeating William Marshall had been huge for Percy; he could now fight like he had nothing to prove. "Sorry if we're ignoring your strategy. Malcolm figured that with them all in a frenzy and me and Jason doing our thing, we could hit them hard, do some damage and then retreat and fight the long battle. Sound good?"

"Sounds perfect," I said, realizing how much power the Argo could pack into a full-speed charge. "What's your thing?"

"Oh, you'll see," Percy replied with a grin. He glanced at the approaching British cruisers and then said, "Got to go," before scampering off to the front of the ship. Jason joined him there and the two of them clasped forearms, before standing side-by side at the bow.

I saw Jason levitate a few inches off the ground as if he was gathering his power. The sky above was darkening, and I could feel the smell of ozone building around us. The air pressure was dropping rapidly.

The British ships were still approaching.

The were moving as one, the first wave of roughly five hundred light, mobile cruisers coming to meet us while the rest hung back a couple of kilometers. I saw the crew of the Argo crouch down and prepare for the imminent battle. Leo toggled a lever on the control panel and I felt a grating sensation as our ram slid into place below the bottom. It was going to be a hard impact, I knew, with the speed of both boats behind it.

The British drew closer.

Jason rose higher into the air, spinning slowly.

I could make out the individual faces of the British now as they prepared to fire their cannons.

Jason came to face me, and I could see that his eyes were pure gold.

Meanwhile, Percy had sunk into a crouch beside him.

I grabbed onto the railing and braced for impact.

And then, all of a sudden the cross-wind died behind the British and their sails went loose, killing all their momentum. The sea surged against them, and the power behind the British charge was gone. Their ships were sitting ducks

We were still moving at full speed.

The Argo slammed into the first ship with all the power of her twelve sails behind her. For a second our bow went skywards sharply, and then Leo slammed a lever forwards and we lurched downwards, shearing the other boat right in two while retaining a good deal of our speed.

The ships on either side of us fired, but the ocean surged up on either side of the Argo and created a wall of water that stopped the lead shots.

"NOW!" Percy screamed, and the fight was on.

As the Argo sailed through the ruin, Greeks poured off either side, landing on the nearest British ships with their weapons draw. The Ballista's all fired at once, sending their twelve-foot spears crashing into the British hulls, splinters of wood flying in every direction

Percy turned, took two steps and leaped right off the boat towards the water below, while Jason shot skywards. I had a second to wonder where they were going before my attention was pulled back to the battle.

Our speed carried us through the line of ships, but Leo had it under control. He danced across the control board of the Argo, cranking the wheel around while pulling a lever down and kicking at one of the pedals on the floor. The ships swung in a perfect one-eighty, the sea surged below us and we shot back towards the fight.

It was at that time I noticed the sea start to rise around us.

In a swirling, frothing wave the ocean started to spiral around the Argo, assisted by the screaming winds and lashing rain that had suddenly appeared. I had a second to wonder what was going on before I saw Percy and Jason side-by-side above the ship, swords drawn, willing the sea and sky to listen to their commands.

The ocean continued to rise in a massive whirlpool that completely surrounded the Argo, shielding us from any British attacks. It was massive. It was awe-inspiring.

It was impossible.

I had seen Percy summon storms before, but never to this extent. He and Jason worked together in perfect unison, combining their powers into something far greater than I had ever seen them make. At the moment, they looked invincible, all-powerful. The looked like the gods they were borne from.

And then, just as the wave reached its apex, an unspoken understanding seemed to pass between the two of them. Just as we were about the reach the British line again Jason raised his sword, the clouds gathering around it.

Lightning split the air in a deafening retort, coming down from the sky and channeling into Jason's blade. With a cry that could be heard over the storm he threw his arm downwards, directing the lightning out and into the water at the same moment Percy thrust his hands off to either side, sending the wave out in a massive, crushing wall of water.

That had now become electrocuted.

The shockwave traveled through the water and right into the British ships. Those nearest to us were swamped by the massive wave, while the ones in the second and third ranks were blow to pieces by the electricity. The pulse traveled as far as seven ships deep, destroying cannons, disabling the ships and frying British while they stood.

I saw one of the heavy cruisers move forwards into the water that had been opened around us. It turned sideways as it went, all three levels of cannon slots sliding open and pointing at the Argo. I knew a blow like that would badly damage us.

I went to call a warning to Leo, but before I could Nico joined the action.

The son of Hades saw the ship and assessed the situation quickly. Before the words could even formulate in my mouth he moved forwards, slashing his stygian iron sword diagonally through the air. A black portal opened up and he stepped through it, his body seeming to fold up before disappearing into thin air.

I could guess where he was going.

Squinting to the giant cruiser, I saw a small, dark figure appear of the deck out of nowhere, a sword held above his head.

The boat was still drawing closer, ready to fire. If Nico was going to do something, he had to do it now.

I could hear the shout go up to fire on us.

Nico plunged his sword into the deck of the ship.

Then, in the next instant, the entire cruiser— and everyone on it— disintegrated into ash before my eyes.

I barely had time to form a sound of exclamation before Nico reappeared on the deck. For a second he stumbled and leaned against the railing, his chest heaving, but then he straightened up and fixed his armour.

"That one's for Troy," I heard him mutter, before he once again slashed his sword and disappeared, presumably into the battle.

With him out of the way, I took a second to survey that battle. The circle that had been widened around us was now closing in as the British regrouped and started their advance again. Volleys of cannons continued to fire, but each time either Percy of Jason would repel them with their respective powers. Still, I could see the power behind our rush had been lost.

"Bring us back," I called to Leo, gesturing to the cliffs. "Time to start the long fight now." The son of Hephaestus nodded and cranked the wheel around. Sails cracked in the wind and the Argo surged to the relative safety of the cliffs, with nine hundred other ships closing down on her.

This, I knew, would be the tough part. We would have to remain agile yet decently static so we didn't get trapped in, stop the British from flanking us while not getting trapped in one corner. I knew it would be the hardest battle we had ever fought.

And yet, I didn't fear it.

Suddenly Percy appeared next to me on the deck. He was soaked with water, his fair hanging down into his eyes, and yet he was panting.

"I think that was effective," he smiled, giving his head a shake before drying himself off before my eyes.

"It may have been," I said indifferently, not willing to admit the charge had been a good idea. He grinned.

"You know, once the fighting starts, you may as well join the boarding," He commented, but I shook my head.

"I'm better up here," I replied. "Where I can make the calls. Keep you all alive."

"Glad to hear it," Percy smiled. He looked at the British ships, which were fast approaching. "Jason and I are going to whip up a bit of a storm. See you when it's over."

And then, just like that, he disappeared off the railing of the ship. There was no splash from below, but I sensed the swells get a little bit larger beneath us. The wind picked up a bit.

Leo stopped when we were about three hundred meters away from the entrance and turned back so we were pointing at the oncoming fleet. It was perfect positioning— far enough so we could move around but close enough no large flanking force could get behind us. I saw the crew rushing around, loading the ballista's and preparing to board, while a number of them were disappearing below decks— probably to load the armada of other weapons that Leo kept stored and ready for battle.

"You ready for this?" I asked him, moving to stand by the bow. The dark-skinned boy grinned at me as he moved frantically across the control panel, preparing the boat for battle. Miraculously, we had avoided damage in the first charge, although it was probably thanks to Percy and Jason.

As if they had heard by thoughts, the wind whipped louder and the swells below us got even bigger, until I could feel the Argo swaying from side to side. I kept my balance easily— as did the rest of the crew— but I could tell that the Captain and his First Mate were just warming up.

The British continued to grow closer. Hector, Stelios and Nico joined me on the bridge to observe the approaching fleet as they moved forwards in a continuous wave.

"Boarders ready," I said quietly, when they got within a kilometer of us.

"READY TO BOARD," Leo echoed, his voice booming through a coned piece of paper.

"Archers focus on the second rank," I reminded.

"ARCHERS, FIRE AT THE SECOND RANK!"

"Keep them funneled to the front," I instructed, although I was sure that the entire crew already knew what to do. Nonetheless:

"FUNNEL THEM TO THE FRONT!"

"Leo's an idiot," I said, a smile playing across my lips. The Latino lowered his device and glared at me.

"Very funny," he said shortly. "But I learned my lesson." Ignoring the chuckles of Hector and Stelios, Leo moved to the wheel and prepared to command to ship.

The wind picked up around us, cutting viciously to the left and checking the momentum of the British charge. I saw immediately the benefit to this; the entire fleet was now drifting starboard at a speedy rate, meaning they would either have to tack— virtually impossible with their numbers— or the majority of them would overshoot us to one side and be in full view of our ballista's.

"Thank you, Jason," I muttered, before gripping my knife tightly and assessing the situation. There was less than two hundred meters between us now.

"Stelios, Hector, you ready?" I asked, and the two princes nodded in unison. "Nico?" The son of Hades didn't say anything, just observed me with a steady gaze, his Stygian Iron sword clenched tightly in his hand. If there was anyone could win us this battle, I knew, it might just be Nico.

"Good," I said, staring forwards to where the fleet was bearing down. "Lets end this thing."

And then, from behind us, Leo decided he had had enough of sitting around.

Linebreak

With a snap of sails, the Argo surged forwards towards the British.

The storm was worsening around us as Percy and Jason merged their powers together into a violent, screaming tornado. Wind and rain lashed across the deck, forcing me to blink water out of my eyes. I wondered for a second why they hadn't kept the boat sheltered, and then realized they couldn't waste energy on such a trivial act. They were focused solely on the destruction of the British ships.

When we were twenty meters out, Leo dropped the sails on one side and hit the water breaks, spinning the Argo in a quarter turn like only she could do. Our broadside swung around until it was facing the British, and with a series of sharp cracks, the ballista's fired into the ranks, each carrying a small packet of Greek Fire.

They exploded on impact and the next second we were moving away again, the wind changing direction to help us, Leo spinning the wheel until we were free of the British. A few ships fired from behind us, but the sea surged up in a solid wave to block them. Then, as is Percy was taking offence, the wave raced across the water and swallowed a small cruiser underneath its surface.

We ran parallel to the ranks for three or four hundred meters until Leo once again wheeled us sideways. The slingshots let loose again and another section of the British ships went under in green flames. The Greeks cheered, but I was watching the battle with a critical eye and knew we had extended our reach far enough.

"Get us back!" I snapped at Leo, who nodded and spun the wheel. A squadron of ten or so ships were probing outwards, aiming to cut us off, and I ran through the situation quickly in my mind. If we weren't carefully, it could quickly turn into an all-out flank, and our last stand would be over almost as soon as it had begun.

Leo, however, had other ideas. "Hit the deck!" he called out from behind him, and every Greek immediately flattened themselves— me included. No one knew just what kind of tricks Leo had installed the Argo with.

There was a muffled thump, and then an ear-splitting crack as a section of the deck split open, two pieces moving in opposite directions to create an opening. For a second nothing happened, and then suddenly a bundle of glowing silver balls shot out from beneath the decks, hurling towards the British ships. The spread out in mid air until they formed a net and then crashed into the nearest ships, crashing right through the decks and opening gaping holes in the wood. The next second they exploded in a brilliant crash, completely obliterating a section of the fleet.

"Nice one!" I called over to Leo, surveying the battle and seeing that we would have at least enough time to make it back to the safety of the rocks. He grinned in response, flicking wet hair out of his eyes.

"Plenty more where that came from," he responded.

The storm was still picking up around us, swamping ships, rocking the British back and forth until their crews could barely stay on their feet. The wind cut this way and that, making the British constantly raise and lower their sails, forcing them to tack to and fro and making it impossible for them to hold a formation.

Despite this, they kept coming, their cannons firing in an ear-ringing explosion. Once again the sea surged up to blocked them and I turned to Leo.

"It's about time we start boarding," I told him, and he nodded in response. I barked the order to Hector and Stelios, who relayed it along the decks. Once more the Greeks took their positions against the railing of the Argo, their weapons clenched tightly, their faces written in excitement. This was what they lived for— the ultimate last stand, the very fight every true Greek dreamed of being a part of. Impossible odds. No hope of survival.

When the nearest ships got to within a hundred meters the Argo once again surged forwards, crashing through their front ranks as our warriors poured off the side and our archers covered the back.

Time seemed to melt away until it became insignificant, and all I could think about was the battle. We danced in and out of the British lines, our weapons firing again and again, warriors hoping on the deck for a moments' rest and then jumping off again as soon as they were ready. Leo kept the Argo moving this way and that, keeping us out of the lines of fire while I surveyed the battle and commanded him on where to go next.

One second Hector was next to me, a broken arrow sticking out of his side and a grin on his face. Then Stelios was battling up the stairs as British boarded our ship and the Greeks fought them off. Then the attack was gone and it was Percy by my said, his hair sopping wet.

"We're kicking their asses!" he told me, before diving off the side of the boat.

The storm picked up around us, and then died down. I saw Jason tearing through an entire cruiser himself, his sword a rod of pure lightning. Percy was blurring across the water in his own personal tornado, ripping ships apart. Thalia and Will Solace seemed to be in a competition over who could fire their arrows the fastest.

Above all of that, I was aware of the British ships sinking. They came from all angles, swarming us, but time and time again we beat them back until the fleet had withered and died down to nothing.

And then, curiously, it was done.

The last of the British ships melted away like snow in the summer and I found myself standing at the wheel of the Argo as our fighters assembled on the deck below.

There were fewer of them than when we started, I noticed. People had died in the battle— maybe a hundred of our numbers, killed by the British, but they had paid for their lives dearly. The ocean around us was red with the blood of the enemy, and the wood from their sunken ships created an almost solid layer above the waves.

Most of the fighters were exhausted. They slumped against the railings, letting their weapons and amour fall to the ground as they cast their eyes upwards. Praying, I thought, thanking their godly parents for the battle they had just participated in.

The Apollo kids were moving around the deck, giving medical care to anyone who needed it. Percy and Jason were also moving around, handing out water skins and dried fruit and clapping hands with the remaining Greeks. I saw smile and laughs all around, the carefree expression and easy words of someone who knew they were marked for death.

Finally, Percy came to stand next to me. His armour was dented and cut and there was a long gash along one cheek. His eyes looked utterly exhausted and he seemed to have lost his spear, but other than that he was perfectly happy.

"So that's a British battalion, huh?" he asked, and I nodded. "They weren't that tough."

I gave him a sideways look. "We have about eight more to deal with," I reminded him, and he shrugged carelessly.

"Then we'll deal with them," he replied. I had to smile at the attitude of the Greek Prince.

"We'll deal with them," I repeated, wanting to believe the words even if Percy didn't. I had to reflect on all the events that had led up to me standing here at this very moment, looking over an expanse of ocean just waiting for the British to show. If you had told me three years ago this is where I would be I would have thought it impossible.

Before I could say anything, however, the sound of a horn cut right through the silence on the deck. Percy's face immediately dropped all signs of cheeriness and he looked to the horizon, his shoulders slumping.

"Already?" he asked. The rest of the crew was also climbing to their feet, staring out in anticipation of the next British battalion.

We saw them a few seconds later, drifting across the horizon in an endless line of ships and sails. They stretched from end to end, filling up my entire field of vision, and they kept coming in an endless wave.

"That's no battalion," I said, my voice hushed. "That's all of them." Percy gave him a harsh look.

"What the hell do you mean, all of them?" he demanded, and I shrugged helplessly.

"It's the entire army, Perce," I said. "They're coming down on us." The Prince froze for a second, his mind working furiously.

"We're damaged," he finally said, and I nodded. "We can't fight them off."

"Not all of them," I agreed. "But some of them." He took a second to register this, before turning back to where the crew was staring out at the horizon.

"CREW!" he bellowed, drawing his sword and pointing to where the ships were coming. Immediately, every eye was on him. Percy lowered his voice.

"This is it," he said simply, and a wave of something like release went through the ship. I could feel the shadow of Hades hanging over us all— and in a way, it thrilled me.

"We'll meet them in open water," Percy decided, announcing it for everyone to hear. "And die like true Greeks." A ragged cheer went up on that.

Some of the Apollo kids were running around, handing out flagons of nectar to help the hero's heal. Percy took his and raised it in a salute— whether it was to his men or to the gods, I wasn't sure.

"Here's to a beautiful death," he declared, and the Greek's echoed his sentiment. This was it, I knew— there was no way we could even hope to fight this many ships at once. Especially not because the Argo was already damaged and almost half of our fighters were dead.

I took one of the nectar cups and drank a mouthful, feeling energy immediately flowing through my veins. The sun was shining above me and a cool breeze was blowing through my hair, and I had to think that if I was going to die I may as well do it right here.

The British were growing closer now, their flanks spreading out the encircle us. I moved up so I was standing next to Percy, Leo and Jason at the helm as we watched the ships approach.

The son of Jupiter took a swing of nectar, swallowed and then spit, observing the approaching army. "Hell of a way to die," he commented as they drew closer.

"Even the prophecies couldn't have predicted this," Percy agreed, his sword held loosely in his right hand.

I could make out the command group of the ships now. Some of them were even bigger than the Argo— five-leveled cruisers bristling with hundreds of cannons. There were about ten of these ships, each host to enough cannons to blow us all straight to Hades. No armour could stand against an assault like that, I knew.

And in the middle of those massive battleships, right at the heart of the army, a large, fat cruiser sat, its golden paint job glittering in the sun. Percy frowned at it for a couple of second, before leaning over and asking, "Is that…"

"King Arthur himself," I confirmed, feeling hatred well up inside of me. It seemed the fat king had come to see our demise himself, although not from a position of battle. King Arthur never fought his own fights.

The ships grew closer, and then dropped their sails about two hundred yards away. The central cruise floated nearer to us, its deck almost level with that of the Argo, and there he was.

King Arthur was sitting on a throne held up by slaves. In one hand he held a flagon of wine, while the other was idly picking fruit off a platter that was balanced on his arm rest. He smiled as we drew nearer.

"Prince Perseus," he called out, carrying over the water. "We meet again."

"It's King now," Percy informed him, keeping his cool. "And I say we haven't properly met."

"Oh?" Arthur asked, taking a sip of his wine. "How do you Greeks normally meet?"

"I meet my friends with a smile and a nice word," Percy answered. "I meet my enemies with a sword." He held up Riptide, a smile on his face. "Care to get acquainted?"

Arthur chuckled idly, looking down at the young Prince with amusement on his face. "So defiant, even now," he said. "This will be the second time I've killed you, boy."

Percy chuckled at that. "You've never killed me," he retorted. "Not you, nor any of your men could kill me."

"Be that as it may," Arthur replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I must be better than you in some way, boy, seeing as how I've trumped you."

"You trumped me with numbers," Percy shot back. "The Greeks were a better civilization than you'll ever be."

"That's why you got over run, is it?" Arthur asked casually, and Percy's eyes went hard. I could feel the pressure drop around me as Jason too reacted to the words. "I beat back your armies on the Plains of Modriar. I crushed Sparta and routed Troy, too. Just now I backed your navy against the shore and watched with joy as my cannons tore them apart." Arthur leaned forwards, his eyes glinting. "And after I've pulled your corpse from the ocean, I'll sail all the way to your pathetic Capital just so I can stand by and watch your city burn. Your legacy is done, Prince of Greece."

Percy stood still for several seconds, trembling with anger. For a second he looked as if he wanted to retort, but then he just leaned towards Leo and said, "Get the sails ready."

"Perce?" he asked uncertainly, looking around. We were surrounded on all side by ships, with their cannons ready to be fire.

"Prepare to sail," he repeated, before turning to Jason. "How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted," the son of Jupiter admitted, and Percy nodded.

"Well, put everything you have left into the wind," he ordered. "Leo, aim us at the King." Louder, he turned back towards Arthur and said, "Before my legacy dies, Arthur, I will feel my sword piercing your chest."

Arthur laughed so hard he dropped his fruit platter. "You better be fast about it, Boy Prince," he told Percy.

Several things happened at once.

Percy raised Riptide above his head, and the sails dropped into place. They snapped full of wind as the sea surged beneath us, and then we were hurdling towards the King. At the exact same instant, he bellowed at his ships to fire.

And the world turned into chaos.

The Ending

If they ever tell my story, let them say that I lived with legends.

History passes over most of us like a breeze, but some men will be forever remembered. Let them say that I fought alongside Hector, the warrior Prince. Let them say that I shared my wine with Stelios of Sparta, commander of the Greek legions.

I was never worthy of immortality, but the people I fought alongside deserve to live forever. When my name gets whispered around the fires at night, or recited in the history classrooms around the world, let them speak of the people I walked with. Tell them of my achievements. Let them say I crossed swords with William Marshall and danced with Joan of Arc. Let them remember how I held court with King Pavlos and rode to war with Thalia Grace.

Let them say I fought alongside Perseus Jackson, first of his name, King of the Greeks.

Because as we hurtled towards the British ships with Greeks dying all around, I saw truly for the first time the beauty of their culture. Even here, in the midst of their greatest defeat, the mighty Greeks were triumphant— in the way they fought, in the way they killed, in the way they died.

As we drew closer, time seemed to slow down. Percy was running towards the front of the ship, his sword up, his lips drawn back in a yell. Bullets hit him— one, two, three— but he kept going, stumbling over the deck before vaulting off their railing and into the air.

There was Jason, his mouth frozen in a scream of defiance even as a cannonball ripped his body apart. Let them say I stood side-by-side with him, the Controller of Storms, the husband of Piper.

Remind them of mighty Clarisse, the Warriors Daughter, as she cut down five British in as many seconds before finally being overwhelmed. Tell them of how I trained with Nico, the Ghost King, who even as he was bleeding to death reduced a British ship to ashes.

And most of all, tell them of Perseus Jackson. The King Who Wouldn't Be, who fled from his duty only to return to greatest warrior alive. Tell of his achievements, yes, of the battles he won and the men he fought— but also tell of the boy behind them. Tell of how he loved, and how he laughed. How he cared for the people of his country, and fought for them even when it meant his certain death. Tell them of his worries, of his woes, of his triumphs and his battles and he beautiful life that he lived.

For while the last chapter in his life may be a tragic one, it was not a sad story. And it may yet be triumphant.

Because as his ship was torn to pieces behind him and the last remnants of a great civilization died, the Prince vaulted onto King Arthurs ship. I watched as he caught down two privateers with blinding speed before launching himself at the King.

A hand cannon took him right in the stomach, blowing a hole through his armour, and yet the Prince kept coming with a scream of pure rage.

And then Riptide, the sword of the gods, pierced through King Arthur's chest and went clean into his heart.

The two Kings died side-by-side on the ship of the massive deck, and the world seemed to split apart.

I stood there at the helm of the Argo with cannons firing all around me, and I saw it all. I saw the day Frederick Chase had picked me up on a lone beach and enrolled me in school. I saw Octavian ordering us to loot a defenseless Galleon floating in the water, and the fateful moment when the Greeks first boarded our boat. I saw Percy, slaughtering my crew and then standing up for me, and I saw the paradoxical nature of the Greeks that had made them so enticing to me.

I saw Teutland and Arcadia, the battle outside of Greece and the Uncharted Isles. I saw Percy giving his twelve hour speech and the charge on the Arcadian Beach, and our fateful trip through old Greece to recover the Stone of Mnemosyne. I saw the New World with its virgin land, and the decision Percy made to go back and fight the British.

As my death loomed above me and a nation died at my feet, I saw a beautiful life, and a beautiful death.

So when they tell my story, let them say that I rode with Greeks and fought with heroes. Let them say I stood my ground as the stones of time and prophecy shifted around me, and that when my fate finally came I met it with a knife in my hand and a smile on my lips.

Let them say I faced death the Greek way as I lunged towards the nearest British ship, with murder in my eyes and peace in my heart.

There we have it. An Epic ending to an Epic saga, the only way I would ever imagine of ending this story. Thank you guys so much for being with me every step of the way and putting up with my awfulness. I hope you don't hate me too much.

Mosgem §