Of Water and Salt

The room provided was a quant one, if a bit gaudy for his tastes. Every wall was made of that gaudy gold. The floor was a grey stone but that was the extent of the poor material, engraved was what he was beginning to assume was Asgardian runes, in tight, circular patters either banded or filled with gold and silver.

The bed was big and looked lush. A golden spread of blankets and pillows along with a central table that was of a deep maroon brown color.

Atop that was a golden vase filled with an assortment of flowers. He didn't recognize any of the species of plant and the closest thing he could think of to describe the flowers was that they looked be lilies. Beside that was a set of clothes as well as a simple grey cloak with a golden pin on it.

There was another door that lead to a restroom that he quickly made use of. Everything was either gold or silver in there as well.

As he stepped back into the central room, he noted the balcony that had a scenic view of the city and beyond that a part of the ocean and as if it were a speck in the distance, more glimmers of gold. Probably another Asgardian city, he assumed.

Having made up his mind, he quickly donned the cloak around himself and adjusted it so as to cover his his golden armor as while he didn't think he was going to need it. It would be better safe than sorry. He did though decide on leaving his helmet. It didn't make sense lugging it everywhere if he wasn't going to wear it.

Percy would be the first to admit that his current, self-appointed task was not the most smart one.

But the Undine had not left his mind. Not since the debacle in the Healing Chamber.

He was refreshed, had his armor and arms, in their charm form, with him and he would most likely not going to get another shot at this. The mortal would die in the coming days, if not sooner, and as soon as she did, he would be leaving for Earth. He couldn't risk waiting for the most opportune time.

Especially, if this issue was going to get out of control as they most often did.

So, after steeling his resolve, he turned to the door he had just so recently closed.

He opened the door and it creaked slightly as it opened. The guards turned to him slightly from their flanking posts. They didn't have the faceplates that the other warriors did. Instead their helms were opened faced and hugged their cheeks tightly and crests that rose up about another half foot above the top.

They looked about the age of a human male adult that was in their prime and decked out in the armor of the Asgardian Palace Guard. Except they did not wear their golden capes and instead also had the grey cloaks and golden pins though their cloaks were filigreed in gold.

"What do you want, Greek?" The voice while respectful held a tinge of annoyance as he stepped out fulling into the corridor.

"I'm going to go meditate." Percy responded, as he clasped his hands behind his back as he usually did. It came with an added benefit that while most assumed he was just being respectful, they wouldn't usually not be aware of the dagger that he kept.

They knew though and prepared themselves in response. They made no overt signs of hostility but they were clearly ready if he were to try something.

"We will escort you to the World's Tree." The same guard said and was about to move but Percy was quick to interject.

"I wish to go to the ocean. Besides, I don't want to be a disturbance. I don't think I'll be all that welcome there and I don't want to cause issues." He figured the best way to go about this was to appeal to their distrust of him and also be considerate of what was quite clearly a place of maybe not worship but a sacred place to them.

The other guard looked entirely disinterested with him. Whether that was due to Percy simply being him or if it was the posting, the Son of Poseidon didn't entirely know.

They shared a look, one that seemed to convey a conversation without any words. Were Asgardians telepathic? Percy wondered. It didn't seem entirely in line with what he had encountered thus far.

He studied the two a little closer and realized something quite revealing. The two were basically twins. With the only thing that seemed to separate them was height.

They had to be brothers. That would explain the brief exchange as his own experience with twins is that they simply had a way of communicating without saying anything.

After the glance they shared, the one that spoke did so again. His voice curt but polite given the circumstances. "Don't try anything, Greek."

He nodded as they began to lead him away.

It was quiet, eerily so as he was escorted down the halls of the Asgardian Palace. The everlight torches flickered and painted the golden walls a fiery orange and illuminated the cold stone in an equally warm glow. Their steps echoed as they continued. Small duos or trios of servants would occasionally pass them by as cleaning and polishing walls or the stone walkways. None directly acknowledging the group but there were more than a few curious glances sent their way.

He didn't get the time to admire the palace with everything going on but even in the night it seemed so surreal. Tapestries and colorful paintings in polished and ornate frames hung at various points in the walls, mostly depicting what Percy guessed the settling of peace.

A tall and burly icy blue humanoid towered over the Asgardian King Odin as they stood side by side. The Ice humanoid hardly wore anything but a pair of deep blue trousers with snow filigree swirling about while Odin wore deep red and gold robes. Even Thor and sometimes Loki would be depicted upon them as well.

All the ones that he could see showed much of the same. Odin alongside another of a different species, either offering or accepting gifts or standing resolute beside the being.

The group soon exited the palace, though not from the main entrance and entered the streets of Asgard proper. It was clear and early into the night.

And it was a scene that would be forever seared into his memories.

It was not the usual silver moonlight and pale starlight of Earth. No, this…this was so much more.

Even in the wilderness of Earth, where the sky remained untouched by man's pollution, he had only gazed at the stars to look back and remember and persevere but to never admire.

The sky was engulfed in a chaos of stars. Not just pale whites and blues but oranges and reds and yellows and purples, glittering and twinkling like so many lights that his breath caught in his throat.

Not even the void in which the flickering stars were absent remained empty for long. Streaking silver comets shot across the sky at speeds that none could ever hope to match, uncaring as to their destination and only the journey that brought them there.

Swirling like blankets of fire or waves of water and thick clouds and pillars of amber, nebulae covered the pristine sky and swaddled the small colorful orbs in their warm embrace.

He could lose himself here. Simply looking up at the stars above for the rest of his days, reclined against sandy beaches with the waves of crystalline water lapping gently at the shore.

Artemis would kill to see this.

The two guards had stopped when he did. Not that he noticed as the quiet one smirked slightly at his awe-struck expression while the other scoffed in annoyance. "I guess even the God-Killer can appreciate a view."

That comment snapped him from his admiration of the sky. Though while his face did retreat to a neutral expression, he simply looked down and continued walking when they did. He didn't miss the shove from the silent Asgardian against the other.

Percy figured it was the comment and made a mental note of appreciation to the Asgardian. The curt Palace Guard had to know that he wouldn't retaliate with his own snarky comments.

The Son of Poseidon put the man out of his mind however. If he was going to refer to him as the God-Killer, and continually treat him like a pest, then he would treat the Asgardian as befitting of the title that he had seemed so keen on provoking.

Beneath him. Like he wasn't even worthy to be a speck of dirt underneath his boot.

At least all the other Asgardians had the decency to stay their tongues.

They continued down the avenue. Vendors were closing shop, none sparing them a glance as they were to set in their work. Little Asgardian children running by and saying their farewells to each with salutes of their toy wooden swords and shields, both girls and boys, while adults carrying decently sized tan woven baskets, filled with an assortment of foods ushering their families into their homes were firelight glinted and cast shadow against the walls.

The young adults were the ones that proved to be the petulant source of stares. His escort didn't seem all that concerned as groups would stop and gawk at them or rather him, if the few looks of fear were anything to go by.

How they recognized him, he didn't know. He was covered from shoulder to thigh in a grey cloak and had made a point not to sway his arms much. Only his greaves were visible, but from a distance, they shouldn't look that much different from the ones worn by the Palace Guards that were flanking him.

They continued to the ocean nearby and Percy extended his senses once again, closing his eyes and inhaling deeply as he did before.

He frowned. He had hoped to be wrong. To think that this was just a cruel prank being played. That his fears would be unfounded.

The ocean was listless as before. It did not sing to him nor beckon him to her. It did not emanate the raw and untamable energy that it was capable of. It was dead. It was serene because there was no life here, not because it chose to be.

But because it was forced to be.

"Well, Greek." They stopped before the shoreline, clearly untrusting of him. They did not want to get any closer than they had to considering his powers. "Here we are."

The beaches were as pristine as the waters that crossed them. Large, craggy rocks pocketed the area that showed signs of considerable wear, the sand itself a stark contrast to the jagged boulders that made themselves at home along the waters. It was a pearlescent white with pockets of that black rock sprinkled and scattered throughout the near pale pink sand.

"I'll be going in the water." He said as he unclipped the cloak and folded it neatly on a nearby rock. Luckily there was no wind, so he didn't have to worry about it blowing away.

His imperial gold armor glinted off the moonlight. He much preferred the moonlight anyways, it was much softer than the harsh sun, an anathema to the beings they represented but if the recent years proved anything, the roles seemed to be reversed.

"How long are you going to be?" The silent one finally spoke. His voice was of deeper timbre than his brother's and deeper than even the heavyset man from the dinner. Though he didn't seem to be as curt as his brother, his question was one of curiosity more than anything.

"Until I get some answers or the morning." As an afterthought, Percy added. "Whichever comes first."

The man shrugged and set his spear and shield off the side and leaned against one of the craggy rocks as Percy often did, the other didn't do the same and kept his arms on his person. "We'll be here waiting, Greek." The guard made it sound like it was above him to be playing babysitter and in all honesty the Son of Poseidon agreed with him.

But it wasn't up to him so while Percy shared his grievances, he didn't pity him. It was on him for not making the most of an easy situation.

He turned back to the water and took a deep breath before beginning to walk. The water was cold, unnaturally, as if it were ice made into a liquid, if that made any sense. He didn't know if that was natural or if it was his affinity and attunement to the element that made it so and made it reflect the state of the waters.

It made sense that way but it also broke his heart.

The waters were dark, almost an inky black and with the pale light from above only glinting off surface, it made it look like a picturesque moonlit horizon against what was sure to be a harrowing experience for him.

The water clawed at his legs as he trudged deeper into the waters, as if tiny bubbling tendrils of seafoam attempted to drag him deeper. The waves picked up and lapped at the shore with greater intensity but that was the only marked difference that was easily noticeable.

He was at waist height when he felt that painful tug at his navel. Like when he tried to use the veil magic back in the Healing Chamber. Except instead of a sharp, piercing pain as before, this one was a burning sensation as if he were back in the waters of the Styx.

However, in contrast to the Immortal River of the Underworld, the waters here did not burn him as if he were on fire. Instead, the sensation was as if he were being burned with ice. The cold was uncaring. Unforgiving. Dead.

It took all his willpower and strength not to buckle under the sensation as he had done before and continued to wade further into the murky depths.

It was when he was treading water did he realized something. It only crossed his mind for a brief moment and had almost escaped his notice due to the overwhelming burning sensation he was feeling.

He took one last deep breath and steeled his resolve.

And plunged fully into the Asgardians waters.

It took a moment for him to realize that it was just as dark as it appeared on the surface and his limbs appeared as mere silhouettes in the inky water. He also realized that the inherent tug he had in his navel was all but gone as it seemed more as a whispering impression rather than an actual aspect.

Then it hit him like a freight train.

It was a sudden sensation. Before the pain was only likened to the Styx due to the parallels of wading into the unknown and trying to emerge stronger, the burning had only added to it but it was still different.

Now, all he could think about was that pain.

The cold engulfed him. It began freezing him and burning him. It made him feel brittle and fragile as if the merest touches would cause him to shatter into so many pieces that they would not be able to differentiate from the sands on the beaches to the shards of his body.

He had opened his mouth to scream, only for it to become clogged with water as it rushed into the empty space.

His lungs filled with the liquid, uncaring of his heritage and the capabilities possessed by the progeny of Poseidon.

Percy clutched his throat and began thrashing around.

And his eyes shot open. He felt it. Fear. Genuine fear.

He hadn't felt that since the Steppes of Olympus and before that the Pits of Tartarus.

Not that he was thinking of those things as he was drowning.

He clawed at the liquid in front of him in desperation as his survival instincts realized he was descending.

Spots of darkness began flickering in the edges of his vision. It didn't feel like he was moving.

A cloud of darkness began consuming his sight. No longer did those orbs of black dance in and out of his peripherals, now they were permanent fixtures and began growing into encompassing shadows.

Then he heard it. An alluring and intoxicating feminine shout of alarm. He didn't so much as see her, as he felt her.

Her presence had rushed to him as his vision became an abyss. He still felt conscious as thin, salty but sweet lips encapsulated his own. A kiss. Not one of affection but one of desperation. One done out of fear but not unwilling as they molded seamlessly with his own.

His eyes shot open and a strangled gasp of air filled his lungs as Percy clutched at his heaving chest. The being slinked away from him, covering her mouth in a bubbling giggle. He took a moment to compose himself as he began treading water, the liquid felt thick to him. Like swimming through a pool of tar, it wasn't suffocating but it wrapped tightly around him.

Percy took another moment and regained his bearings further. He was breathing normally again. The water becoming like air as it should. The water around him clearing slightly but not fully. He could see a few meters in front of himself now rather than the shady silhouettes that was his outline.

He took a deep breath and looked to the being whose features constantly shifted from shyness to playfulness. Like she wanted to approach him but to her it was as daunting a task as his own.

He took in her features. The Son of Poseidon assumed this was an Undine. That much was clear. Though unlike the watery and collapsing forms that the other had taken when she approached him, this one had a more solid body.

Though calling it a solid form was overstating it. She was translucent. Glowing a pale sea green, and looked more like a ghost than an actual physical being. Her apparel shared the color of her. In fact, it looked as though they were all one.

It was a combination of robes and armor. Metal plates covered vital areas and small spaulders covered her shoulders as well as bracers and greaves. The helmet she wore was similar and more functional than ornate, though it still posed some personal ornamentation, with twin waves flanking just above the ears crashing against the side and flaring outwards, giving the impression of wings. There was also another wave that crashed against the crest of the forehead that did the same, though this time giving the impression of a sea-shell. A sea green ribbon had tied her hair in a loose pony tail that trailed behind her and left room to spare as it gave the impression of twin comets streaking behind her as she moved.

The robes were different to the ones he had seen around Asgard. Where the Asgardians were more modest, these were more provocative with slits for her legs and hugged her figure tightly. Though given the color there wasn't much he could make of it, except that there was clear designs depicting torrential oceans. He saw the tip of a short spear and small shield strapped to her back and a short sword sheathed at her waist.

All of it seemed to be attached to her and was the same color as herself, that pale, ghastly sea green.

"You're an Undine." His voice remained unchanged under the waves but the recent ordeal of almost drowning, caused him to cough as he said the words.

She nodded and giggled again, this time approaching before him. She bowed at her waist, deeply. Much like he did for the King of Asgard but unlike him, she stayed at the position as she spoke. The voice was inviting and had a tinge of song to it. "I welcome you, Child of the Sea." She pulled herself back up.

"What's your name?"

"My name is Aeira." She smiled grandly at him, before gliding to his side, as if she was flying in the water instead of swimming. He missed the remorseful look that overtook her features for but a moment. "Come! Come! The Elder will want to meet you!" She looped her arm through his and pulled him along, surprising even him at the force she used.

From his experience, nymphs and spirits were not physically adept and were laughably weak almost disturbingly so. They were more inclined to use their terrifying control over nature to protect themselves. Here, she held onto his arm with the force he would expect from a child of Ares.

Another thing he noticed was that he wasn't in control of the waters around them. No, it was the Undine girl, Aeira, that propelled them forward quickly, using the currents of the water and the tide to go even faster.

He didn't know exactly which direction they were going either. Whether they were going left to right or further out to sea, his nautical senses were not helping in that regard. Percy only realized that they were at the ocean bed when tall spires of black rock rose like pillars of shadow. She eased him onto the sandy bed and walked on at his side, her arm still looped with his.

The sand here was not the pure whites upon the beaches of Asgard but instead of the dark obsidian black.

While he couldn't see more than a couple dozen feet around him, he could hear their sorrowful songs before he could see them. The luminescent forms of more Undine began to reveal themselves, emerging from black craggily caves and from pathways that he couldn't see.

There were not merely women either but men among them as well as they all began to crowd around. They wore variations of the apparel that Aeira but the men were clearly more heavily armored.

Awe-stricken expressions were the most prevalent as he looked upon the Undine peoples but there were a handful that were crying as tears of sea green droplets cascaded down their faces.

Reverence was the most apt term as he walked among them, though as many bowed deeply as he passed them.

But it did not escape his notice that there were absolutely no children around. He couldn't hear any of the mischievous laughter that usually accompanied them nor the wails of newborns.

Aeira guided him to a large amphitheater-like area. It looked much like the Senate Forum did in New Rome, with large sets of stairs and and thick cut benches of stone. But where the Roman Forums were made with quarried pale stones, the stones here were like the black rocks that were all the more prevalent around them. Etched and engraved into the stones were small runic circles, all looking similar.

The other Undine stayed at the top, none daring to get closer, while Aeira continued on guiding him into the center where another Undine was. He was older than the rest by far, as his form had a thick and stringy beard that reached the top of chest while while his features had a more withered look. He held a large gnarled ashen staff that hooked at the top but at the apex had an almost ethereal radiance to it.

"Ah Perseus Jackson." The voice was weathered and as craggily as the rocks about them as if it took much effort for the old Undine man to speak. "Please sit. We have much to discuss."

Aeira stood off to the side, nearby while off on the edges of the Forum the crowd of Undine stood watching.

"We heard of your arrival." The withered man began. "The tales of your victories on Midgard reach even our ears." Perseus said nothing but did look away at the memories. "The young woman that first encountered you came back here speaking excitedly of a Child of Sea having arrived on Asgard. None took her words to heart but she did as did I."

The man inclined his head to Aeira who glowed slightly in embarrassment as she also looked away.

There was a pause after Perseus spoke. "What's your name?"

"That is no matter." The man waved dismissively as he continued. "So I waited for more concrete proof. I knew the Child of the Sea would not hesitate to use his abilities for long but when you did we felt it. We all felt it."

"It wasn't anything impressive." Percy admitted. "Plus it was involuntary. The armor came on its own. I had no control over it."

"We know. The ocean fought against you, didn't it?" His eyes gleamed with something. As if he was searching for a particular answer.

"No…It was dead." He lowered his head respectfully and his voice solemn. "Lifeless. It held no emotion. No power. As if I were pulling from something that didn't exist." Percy chanced a look at Aeira but she had her own head lowered and a sad smile on her face. "What happened here?"

The man didn't acknowledge his words directly but his eyes also exuded the same sadness of Aeira. Percy could feel the sadness permeate around him, like a hazy fog that settled over them. A mournful harmony came from the audience around the Forum.

"Many, many eons ago. An Asgardian had entered these same waters as you did. He came with a curiosity and pleasantry that we didn't expect. All we knew then were that the Asgardians were powerful beings and warriors and we had done our best to avoid them."

"Until Njord." Aeira spoke, her face wistful and forlorn.

"Until Njord." The man before him nodded, his voice betrayed the stony expression he was attempting to keep. "Njord was curious. We, the Undine, had hid beneath the waves of Asgard's oceans and seas for fear of death at the hands of the Asgardians. You see we were once a peaceful people, with no need of steel. It was anathema to who we were then. Steel and war wrought fire and death. The Undine are an emphatic people. He proudly display our emotions cause that is what we are. The waters of Asgard made manifest. Peaceful, serene, and full of life."

"Until Njord." Percy guessed and received another nod from the old man.

"Njord was good intentioned. Asgard was not always a planet of golden cities and frivolities. They were born for and of war and Asgard was often subject to attack. He asked us to fight alongside the Asgardians, to protect our homes and our families. But we were a peaceful people, there was nothing we could offer. We weren't soldiers, none had ever wielded a sword or shield in the history of the Undine."

The man continued his story. "However, we wanted to help and so we bound our command and abilities over the oceans and seas of Asgard to young Njord with an unbreaking promise to return them, and that was all that was needed." He sucked in a breath. "For millennia Njord became the Shield of Asgard. He staved off invasions and destroyed armies that would see Asgard in ruins with the command he held over the seas and oceans."

Aeira spoke this time, further reinforcing the words of the elder Undine. "Where Njord used his newfound gifts in defense of Asgard, his brother, Buri had used steel, fire and magic, having allied Asgard with the witches of the Vanir, to assail the worlds that waged war upon them."

"But as Njord continued to wage war, so did our natures. We became warlike, our forms donning the weapons and armor of the Aesir. Peaceful and free natures became bloodthirsty and malevolent. We began fighting underneath the waves, no one the wiser that a bloody war was being waged in oceans of Asgard, not even Njord, who would later be killed off-world. Still, the wars beneath the oceans waged. Tens of thousands of Undine slaughtered by other Undine. But then we felt it. We felt our strength waning, our resolve waning."

There was a respectful pause as Percy digested this information as his mind raced to a rather horrifying conclusion. "Njord killed the Undine."

A hollow chuckle escaped the elder. "Quite perceptive. Yes. Njord killed the Undine when he died before returning our gifts." The words were said frankly and without a hint of emotion. "We never even considered the consequences of binding our fates to the Asgardian and neither did he. And now we are unable to procreate. Unable to live as we once did for his death sapped all our strength, in both body and spirit."

"The waters of Asgard were now shackled to Death. A peaceful and serene existence but a lifeless one." Aeira muttered, white drops streaking down her crying face. "One fated for the Void."

Their states made sense. Their forms solid but looked more like spectres of what they could or would have been.

"I don't think there is anything I can do for you." Percy murmured his eyes not daring to meet the Undines'. He felt so powerless.

"No." The elder said, stoically. "There isn't not in regards to our fate." His voice betrayed no emotion. "But there is something you can do for the Undine."

"Name it." Percy's answer was immediate.

"You can free the oceans again!" Aeira blurted. "Please!" The Undine man shot a withering glare to the Undine girl who ignored him and instead looked to Percy with pleading eyes.

"How?" Percy's voice was one of concern.

The older Undine sighed as he became more of the age that his features portrayed himself as. His posture slouched and the staff clambered against the obsidian table that was in between them. "There is a ritual. That'll release us from this existence. We are the Seas of Asgard made manifest. Njord's death ensured our fates alongside him. Releasing us and the seas will be unshackled from this…undeath."

He was silent as the implications set in on what they were asking of him. He had come here to fix this but like all things involving him, they tended to blow out of proportion.

He didn't know how long he sat there deliberating. The whole time, Aeira nervously shifted in her position, hands wringing together, while the Undine man was simply staring at him.

It reminded him too much of the situation with Pan.

But now he could see where the Nature God was coming from. Simply existing wasn't living. Hanging on to threads and being shackled by your own powers was not something he could stand by and let happen.

And it was his home…well not his home. But it was home nonetheless. They didn't welcome him as an outsider nor overlord. No, here they almost treated him as if he were one of them. Like the Nereids and Nymphs of Earth, who while showed him deference, treated him like family.

He couldn't stand to see this. Not when he knew what they could have been. So free and liberating. To be so full of life. All they knew was war and sadness. Serenity in undeath. Bound to an existence of living but shackled and fused to their decaying bonds to the waters of Asgard.

But what they were asking of him? They were asking him to cut them away from the sea. To kill them. A merciful and sanctioned death, but innocent nonetheless.

But just because he had to endure a lifetime of pain and hardship, doesn't mean that others had to.

Percy had the power to free them.

And he would do so.

"What do you need from me?" He sighed as he looked down. He didn't notice the look of relief that washed over the Undine man as Aeira couldn't contain her joy as she practically tackled him to the sandy bed and hugged him for all he was worth.

He was sure that if it wasn't for his inherent godly strength then his bones would've been crushed into paste. "Thank you!"

He didn't know what to say to that. It was rather morbid. Thanking someone for killing them that is. He only witnessed the act once with Daedalus and Nico and he had no desire to ever be witness to one again.

He didn't dwell on it long and peeled the Undine girl off him and gave her a hollow smile. She beamed at him. And waved at the crowd around them and gestured for them all to come down.

Apparently they were all waiting for the signal as they all took up pre-prepared positions, around the Forum, standing evenly atop the stone seating and stairs all around them. The older Undine had approached him and guided him to the small table that was between them. "Sit upon this. Close your eyes and do your best to clear your mind. You will feel pain and discomfort but you need to do your best to remain calm and in control and you need to remain seated. Do you understand?"

Percy nodded, as he sat cross-legged upon the obsidian slab. It had the same sigil that the seating around them had except it was larger.

"Aeira and I will be beside you, focusing the ritual. If it works then the oceans will become unshackled and you will feel the difference."

"If?" He couldn't help but ask.

The Undine man spoke. "We have been studying for millennia on how to do this but never had a proper focus."

"A Child of the Seas." Percy mouthed and Aeira nodded solemnly.

"We were hopeful that one of them would come and help." Her face brightened slightly. "And you did."

That made this all the more tragic. Their entire existence was based on mere hope. It was no wonder that Aeira was ecstatic about his arrival. That hope had turned from a small dying spark to a roaring flame when he had merely stepped from the Bifrost.

The steps were soon filled with more Undine. All standing at near perfect ease or rigid nervousness. There were less than two hundred of them.

An already dying people and they had asked him to put them to peace.

He slowly closed his eyes and extended his senses as he cleared his mind. He took a deep breath and prepared himself.

The Undine started chanting. No…not chanting…they were singing. A harmonious hymn. One that began hopeful and slow but began to speed up, turning precise and repeating as if they relived every moment that made them who they were.

Then it turned dramatic and sorrowful on a dime. A lullaby. One that held their regrets and lamentations within. Then as quickly as it had turned to the slow wails, it turned again. But now it was no longer the hopeful sounds nor the regretful tones but rose like a fire. A storm of life. Of anticipation and promise.

Through it all, Percy felt that painful tug in his navel as memories and experiences began flooding his mind. The Quest for the Lightning Thief. The journey through the Sea of Monsters. Taking upon the burden of the Curse of the Titan. The Battle of the Labyrinth. The Battle of Manhattan and the many sacrifices given, freely or otherwise.

And then two years of nothing... His mind pained and raged at the gap as he felt the song move towards its dramatized and sorrowful turn. That same burning sensation from when he first entered the water began to overtake him.

But Percy stamped it down. He wouldn't be beaten. Not this time.

The Battle for the Aquila. The Battle for the Parthenos.

Tartarus. Gaea.

His mind blazed in fury. He felt tendrils of energy reaching out to him as the song went to its storm of melodies. The anticipation and promise of freedom from an unwanted fate.

His mind calmed to a dull thrum as the song turned to quiet whispers and solemn but determined acceptance. The song ended with hums and whispers before ceasing entirely.

An Experience. One of Hope, Sorrow and Promise.

He calmed and took a deep breath and extended his senses once again.

The ocean sang to him. He felt the roiling energy underneath the waves, eager to be used and bent.

It was no longer the calm, cold and stilled waters that had greeted him. No, he could feel it now. There was life. He could feel the fish in the water. The rocks over the seabed. The cascade of the falls and the thrum of emotion.

He hesitantly peeked open his eyes. The near transparent sea green spectres of the Undine were gone from their places about the forum. But he could see clearly now. As if there wasn't water to begin with.

He looked to where the elder Undine was supposed to be. Seeing nothing but a fallen hooked ashen staff on the sea bed.

"Aeira?" He called out as he looked to where the Undine maiden had stood before the ritual.

There was no sea nymph smiling nor singing there.

Except for a trailing ribbon of sea green floating serenely in the water before him.

Percy clenched his fists and blinked back the tears that threatened to escape.

Sif freshened herself. As she prepared herself for the coming day, the Sword of Asgard could not help but feel slightly better due to the events that were to occur.

A duel with the infamous Son of Poseidon.

It was not often that she would be able to test her mettle against someone as renowned as he.

Her position and title as the Asgardian Goddess of War and the Sword of Asgard respectively were not ones that were gifted to her.

No, she earned those. Her prowess on the battlefield was well-known throughout the Nine, Eight, Realms. Battles were won where she walked.

And she was determined to beat the Greek today. She held no illusions that it would not be a daunting task. In fact, she counted on it. She smirked herself as she adjusted her hair into a tight ponytail.

She had considered just cutting her long hair back to its original pixie length as she had been letting it grow out considering the peace over the realms. But decided against it. She wasn't going that far just yet to get every miniscule advantage.

If she beat him, then Thor would at the very least go out of his way to congratulate her and accomplishing such a feat would only ensure that he did it in front of the mortal Jane, considering she was always by his side.

He didn't have the social aptitude to recognize that doing so would most likely infuriate the mortal just as it did in regards to herself when the Son of Odin made eyes at Jane.

She slipped her boots on and grabbed her arms before schooling her features and made her way to the honored guest of Odin.

It wasn't long to arrive there as the halls were not as crowded as the day before and given that it was still early in the morning, it was still reasonably deserted for the most part.

She approached the twin Palace Guards. She hadn't noticed before as it was night but it was clear who they were now. They were Varin's boys. One of the Marshals of the standing armies of Asgard, a level-headed, if a bit eccentric man that took orders well enough.

"Report." She spoke slightly.

"Nothing unusual, Lady Sif." The one she knew as Olaf said. He was soft-spoken and well-mannered for an Asgardian which was probably why the Allfather had chosen him for sentry duty. Except the tag-along. Where Olaf went Torrad followed.

His brother was anything but soft-spoken as he snorted in derision. "Except he took us to the ocean for half the night."

Sif blinked. "He did what?"

Olaf spoke before his brother could. "The demigod wanted to meditate in his element. I saw no issue with it but Torrad wouldn't stop complaining about the cold."

Torrad was about to speak up once again but Sif would rather not hear his voice as her words turned. "Why didn't you come get me?" The Greek was her charge. The Allfather, himself ordered it.

The door opened as Perseus fastened on his bracer to his forearm. "Because they didn't feel like disturbing you and neither did I."

She looked him over and she could tell something was off. For one, his eyes were glowing. But she was sure it was a trick of the light because as soon as she blinked the glowing was gone and were replaced with a dull emerald as if sapped of energy.

Still she was skeptical. After witnessing the mortal Jane's flash red involuntarily just a night before, she wouldn't leave it as just a glint of light.

But she would leave it for now as he looked more subdued than the night before. She looked to Torrad and Olaf. "You two are dismissed."

They both bowed slightly at the waist before leaving one a little faster than the other as Olaf leisurely left and Torrad slipping off his helmet.

"Mind telling me what you were doing at the ocean?" Her sapphire gaze piercing into his emerald one.

"What's it to you?" The way he said the words made it sound as if he was genuinely curious but she had caught the slight narrowing of his eyes at her demand.

"Your abilities notwithstanding, as your escort I need to accompany you to all the places you travel on Asgard." The less said about it being more about the protection of Asgard than the safety of the Demigod before her, the better.

He thought for a moment, his slightly narrowed eyes did not leave hers. "It was as the guard said. Meditation."

She knew he was lying or at the very least not telling the full truth. Years spent by Loki's side had tuned her senses to the slightest bit of lie but the God of Deception was like no other and still fooled her when he put his mind to it.

Perseus, on the other hand, didn't lie. No, it wasn't that. She didn't know him well enough for that but the day before had offered her a small insight into the mind of the demigod.

He wouldn't lie unless he had to.

That was not all that tipped her off though. The Son of Poseidon had reverted back to formal speech. If only slightly. He had made it clear that he didn't like to play the part of politician as he seemed more prone to slipping into his blunt words even when speaking with the King of Asgard.

"Is that it?" She probed her own eyes narrowing in response. "No ulterior motive?"

"I needed answers and I got them." He nearly growled but still held himself in a composed state. There was no giveaway this time. He took a deep breath. "I'll be leaving for Earth later on today."

That caught her flat-footed as she widened her eyes. "What for? You said-" He cut her off, raising his hand in a slightly placating manner.

Whatever answers he must've received were not good ones at all.

"I know what I said but I feel I have already overstayed my welcome." Percy said, his tone brooking no argument. "Besides, the Aether is on Asgard. No one else knows of it. There is an army of Asgardians between her and whatever is dumb enough to make an attempt at it. I am not going to waste my time here waiting for a mortal to die."

His voice trickled into one of exhaustion and she followed as his gaze drifted past her and to one the many beaches that sat close to the Palace.

It seemed livelier than before. Waves crashed instead of probing against the shore and flocks of birds were easily seen diving into the waters. Sif looked back to the Son of Poseidon. Like an imposing pillar that wouldn't bend nor break with his shoulders squared, he stood, but his eyes conveyed an entirely different story from the one he presented. He was distraught.

He wasn't exhausted physically. The Son of Poseidon was mentally drained.

"We can go train like you suggested." She ventured. While Sif really wanted to spar with him, it was probably not a good idea to do so while he was distracted.

The last thing on her mind was any duel with the Son of Poseidon. Now she simply wanted to distract him from whatever had pervaded his mind the night before. It had shaken him to his very core.

Whatever that had the capability of causing concern to a being that could contend with immortals on an even playing field had her slightly worried.

But she knew the remedy for warriors like him. Forgetting. It was a brittle dam at best but stayed the rapids from overwhelming and consuming everything enough for when the dam didbreak, it didn't take the people in the valley below with it.

Considering the heritage of the demigod before her, it seemed the analogy held more truth to it then it let on and she couldn't help but wonder if the saying held some relation to the demigod.

There was a moment and she would have thought that he simply ignored but just as she reached that conclusion, he spoke. "To be honest, I forgot about that. I still owe you a duel." Though his tone held a slight tinge of amusement, it was clear from his pose and previous words that whatever thoughts he had were a weight upon his mind and returned to the bored one he previously carried. "Well, it would be better if we get that over with before I leave. I don't think I will be retuning."

She smiled if only a little bit as it returned to a neutral one but she understood. He would return to the human realm and wouldn't look back. She wouldn't step foot on Midgard, not with the pseudo-truce that was struck.

The fact that she had no desire to go there went unsaid. To her, It was like…associating with barbarians and savages. Sure there were the few that could be construed as somewhat decent but with facts laid bare the majority of the humans were no better than the Frost Giants.

And at least the residents of Jotunheim had the decency to not pretend to like the Asgardians.

So while Perseus was correct, what he implied was another matter entirely.

He was brushing off an encounter with her like it was an afterthought. Like it was a mere passing annoyance and another errand that needed to be dealt with.

She would ensure that whatever gave that impression would be naught but a distant memory if not outright forgotten.

Sif didn't let her inner rage become known however as she smiled tightly. He would regret his words. "Well, if that is your decision then we should hurry. Otherwise, we will have to fight for a spot."

He didn't smile nor do that hollow chuckle that he often offered. He merely gestured for her to lead the way.

They walked silently. Perseus made no indication that he wished to converse, much like the day before. Sif had at first thought about attempting to engage the Son of Poseidon in some light banter but thought better of it. She guessed his mood had little patience and she did not want to test the limits of that until they sparred.

It took a little bit but they made their way to the Training Grounds of the Einherjar. The grounds were not attached to the Palace but off to an area separate of it. It was sparsely populated at the moment but more of the Einherjar continued to trickle in, those that were not on duty that day that is.

Sif quickly commandeered one of the larger fighting circles for their use. She had planned on not taking this seriously after witnessing the demigod's apparent mood but his words had erupted a desire that squashed that plan underneath her boot.

A larger field would allow her much more maneuverability.

He took over a nearby table and set his helmet on it for the time being as she also prepared herself. She had brought her own custom helmet as well for this fight as she was not so eager to get a concussion in fighting. She had not set it on her head just yet, instead moving to check her own equipment before the duel truly began.

Sif had opted for her larger kite shield. Well, opted was a…word. She didn't necessarily have a choice in the matter with her favored one still being repaired from having been pierced by a bolt. The larger shield would be bigger boon to her though.

The smaller shield may have offered her more flexibility in the manner in which she wielded her sword but the protection and obscurity the larger one provided was an advantage that she wouldn't pass up when facing the Son of Poseidon whom had yet to display any other weaponry besides the dagger he had on at the moment.

And if she had to guess, a spear and sword was almost guaranteed to be used. Those with natural inclinations to the Seas had affinities for weapons with longer reach. Tridents being particularly popular among them.

A miniature grapple device behind her shield that could pull her opponents into closer range for her sword, simple Asgardian magic allowed it to be reused even if the tight golden cables were cut. Her two silver gleaming daggers, one sheathed at the small of her own back much like Perseus' own while another, shorter blade one was sheathed tightly to her waist. Both with enchantments of their own to return to her should she call for them.

That was not counting the numerous hidden blades throughout her person that were good for both throwing and stabbing.

That was not counting the small silver and golden gilded bearded handaxe that was dangling from her hip. A last resort weapon mainly. If she lost her sword, unlikely as it was, she would prefer to be able to fluidly continue fighting without having to resort to just a dagger.

She much preferred it to, in her opinion, the inelegant handpicks of the Valkyrie as the choice weapon for the Einherjar suited her just fine. Besides, she wasn't trying to emulate the warrior maidens. No, she was here to forge her own path.

Her last weapon, a gifted spear from Odin himself for her actions during the Battle of Harokin, while it looked much like the King's Spear only silver, it possessed the capabilities that the spears wielded by the both the Einherjar and the standing armies of Asgard only a miniscule longer in length.

This was a weapon from the armories of the famed Valkyrie. As it was, while proficient with it, she hardly used it because of its origin.

"Do you mind if I use an Asgardian sword?" The sudden question brought her internal monologuing inspection of her equipment as the voice was unexpected.

"You didn't bring your own?"

The response was immediate. A deft curl of his wrist and a short blade sheathed in black leather appeared from the air, the leaf-shape indicating its Greek origin. It was a short weapon, only two feet from hilt to tip and the handle was enameled with swirls of smoke. She heard a serene and melodious whisper edge her mind.

And she subconsciously reached out to touch and stopped herself upon hearing his next words though it didn't look like he noticed her hand beginning its ascent from her side. "Its Stygian Iron."

She pulled her hand back immediately. She may not have known much of the Immortal World of his heritage but she knew what Stygian Iron was. Just a mere scratch from the blade could induce immeasurable pain and if killed the soul forever trapped within.

"I think that is for the best." She nodded. Sif would not risk the cursed metal in a spar.

Perseus nodded his thanks and with another curl of his wrist the blade apparated from the air as he moved to the nearby weapon racks that lined the walls.

His weapons were always with him, she realized.

They didn't confiscate him of weapons because he didn't have any on him but they couldn't take what he didn't technically have with him.

And given that she didn't know the extent of what weapons he did possess, she would have to be careful if he decided on simply conjuring them from thin air in the midst of combat.

Luckily she had her own ace. As far as he knew, her sword only had the one blade and the only daggers she had were the two visible on her.

If he wanted to play with hidden tricks then she would oblige in kind.

With her own inspection done, she elected to watch the Greek prepare himself and relaxed herself against the table.

She watched through narrowed and scrutinizing eyes as he retrieved an Asgardian sword. It was much like her own, only it didn't have a second blade and wasn't enchanted to return to its wielder. He gave it a few test swings and strikes.

It was odd to say the least. He was clearly comfortable wielding the sword, if the fluidity of his movements were anything to go by. But she could see the hesitation in some of his movements and the way his grip constantly adjusted along the handle suggested he wasn't entirely at ease with the sword in his hands.

Sif had heard of warriors that weren't wholly capable of wielding just any weapon. Thor was similar in that way. His weapon was made for him. The saying that weapons were extensions of one's body was not an entire misnomer. Though it had other meanings that were more esoteric than the more common ones.

For example, at least from what she had been able to gather, was that Mjolnir was quite literally a manifestation and focus for Thor's Asgardian heritage.

But that brought a slew of new questions she had regarding the Greek demigod, if his preferred weapons were made of Stygian Iron, a metal infamous for its magical properties, then what did that say about the Son of Poseidon?

Sif was pulled from the thoughts as the Greek sheathed the weapon and buckled it to his side.

"Are you ready?" His voice rang with a disinterest that grated against her nerves. Thoughts and questions of his nature gone, she had one thing on her mind now.

"I'm always ready, Greek." There was no insult in her words, only challenge. She pushed herself from her position and entered the circle proper.

They stood away from each other. Sif in her silver and and maroon armor and leather and Perseus and in his golden and blood red armor and black underclothes.

"Terms?" Perseus asked, he had yet to place it a top his head and instead still cradling it at his side. She was standing much the same though while the Son of Poseidon was devoid of weapons, except the dagger and Asgardian sword at his waist, she was armed and ready.

"First blood would be a little boring." She spoke, a little smirk playing at her lips as her blood began pumping. "First to yield and any disarmed weapons remain out of play. Let us see who is better. Olympus or Asgard."

One of his brows arched and his head tilted to the side. Whether it was in curiosity or admiration she didn't know.

But he did nod his agreement.

This was not a test of only martial prowess but also of wits.

"Ah it is good to see that I am not late." A booming weathered voice echoed the hall, drawing the attention of many within the training grounds. Sif felt herself instinctually stiffen and do an about face in the direction of the voice.

She bowed at her waist at the sight of the Allfather. He was escorted by his normal retinue of honor guard. "My king." She intoned.

"Do not mind me. I am here to merely observe." His gaze cast across the field before settling on them two. "Please continue."

Sif nodded, feeling not entirely sure of herself anymore. Apparently word had even reached the ears of the King of Asgard of the duel. Most likely Heimdall's doing, if Sif had to guess.

"Of course we were simply settling some of the finer details of the bout." The King of Asgard nodded and continued to simply watch.

Damn those senses! Sif mentally shouted, hoping that the Sentry of Asgard at least heard an echo of her thoughts. He would definitely be getting an earful from her later.

She couldn't lose now. Not with the Throne watching.

Her attention turned to Perseus who looked wholly uncomfortable under Odin's gaze and making a point not to look the King in the eye and instead choosing to focus on her..

She didn't dwell too much on it and readied herself. She slipped on her helmet. A painted maroon helmet that hugged her head tightly, gilded in laces of silver. The Wings of the Aesir forming from the mental command and clutched her cheeks tightly as more silver metal bands traced the edges of her face. While the small Silver Wings of Asgard flared from her cheeks, another larger pair flared from the bands on her temples also silver, thought they weren't as large as Odin's or Thor's whenever he bothered to where his headgear.

Sif faced the Greek, who donned his own golden frilled helmet with the ease of an experienced warrior.

The Greek looked like a completely different person now. And the Sword of Asgard could not help but feel a slight bit of trepidation at the sight before her. Gone was the mortal boy in human clothing she had first seen. Now stood the Demigod Son of Poseidon in full battle regalia.

And for once she smiled in anticipation, her previous fears of failing the Allfather forgotten, as she leveled her spear at the Sword of Olympus before her.

A clear challenge to Perseus.

Her sapphire gaze locked on his emerald one but she couldn't fully see his face, blocked as it was by the Corinthian helm he wore, but his eyes also narrowed in anticipation. She watched as he flicked his wrist but instead of a cursed sword appeared a round shield about the size of a standard Asgardian shield. Almost gold but duller and darker. Bronze.

That gave them an even ground in terms of defensive equipment.

But that was not what caught her attention. No, it was the iconography. A snarling female head with hair for snakes. She tore her gaze away from it immediately recognizing it for what it was. Thor had spoke often of the shield in front of her.

It had cost precious moments in his impromptu fight with the demigod.

Had she not, she would've missed the spear that he was drawing from somewhere behind the shield. Almost as if he was pulling it from the confines of the bestial shield.

He whipped it to his side, the spear jutting out and she saw tendrils of lightning dance off the tip and scorch the sand below it, tuning it to glass. Perseus brought it to his side and readied it, small arcs of that lightning wrapping both the shaft and tip of the spear.

She had to pay close attention to that. The spear was of similar length to her own and both now had their own special properties.

They began circling. The arming now over and done with. Both had their shields up and their knees bent and bodies low, as the walked around the pit of pale sand.

Sif knew this was a dance that had to be taken carefully. They were both analyzing the other. Judging weak points. Judging distance between them. Judging the subtleties of the sand that crunched beneath their armored steps. The shifting of each other's feet on how they moved in reaction and the darting of evaluating eyes.

Perseus was the first to make a move. An almost full minute into their duel and a single action had yet to be taken. But when he moved, he did so deliberately and fast.

He dragged his spear, just above the sand, snaking the tip left and right while he shifted his body left and right. His shield out wide.

Sif squared her own posture preparing herself as she also mimicked his action shifting left and right with the tip of his spear but her eyes were on him.

His spear thrust out suddenly, but easily caught and batted away with her own. Lightning arced from the tip and against the sand and danced around her spear.

But that was just a diversion. The main attack had come from his shield as he swung the edge to her head. She had caught it with her own but the force behind the blow was enough to make her adjust her footing. She lashed out with her own spear but it was already too late as he had already moved out reach.

It wasn't an attack meant to inflict a devastating blow. It was a probe. Testing her prowess against pure force. She realized.

Because as soon as he recovered from his own attack, he turned and lunged from across the pit with his spear held high and she held to receive the strike.

The force behind the strike was strong again and sent her stumbling back. She had not expected him to attack so aggressively. If not for her shield, she would've thought that he meant to impale her. Still, the electricity arced into into silver shield and numbed her arm.

Hissing in pain and backpedaling, she recovered her footing.

But she knew it was only because of her shield that he did it. The intent had been clear. She was given ample opportunity to raise her own shield and protect against it.

If this was a true fight he would have capitalized on the stumble. At best she would have been on the backfoot and forced to react instead of attack. At worst she would have been killed then and there.

But no he stalked forward and allowed her to regain her footing.

Sif now knew she could not beat the Son of Poseidon in terms of raw strength. Despite being an Asgardian, she was clearly outmatched against him in that particular field. She would need to rely on her speed, agility and wits to win this particular fight.

And the moment she caught her footing for the second time, she went on the offensive. She didn't want to reveal the capabilities of the Valkyrie Lance just yet but staying within reach of his lightning spear was not an option but maybe she could force him to discard it.

So she focused behind her shield and released a trio of orange bolts of energy at the Demigod allowing just enough to stun and not outright kill him, but aiming at his head to force him to raise his shield and obscure his own vision.

Her gamble paid off as she the ever slight widening of his eyes caused him to pause and raise his shield as it absorbed two of the shots while the third glanced into a the ground with a burning fizzle.

But she had gotten the initiative back and she was not about to let it go to waste.

Sif rushed the demigod as soon as the third bolt had fired, waiting for the moment he recovered from her own attack.

She saw the tip of the frill upon his helm begin to peak from the top of the bronze shield and she threw the silver lance.

It sailed true but was easily batted away to the ground by his shield and leaving his side open with the added benefit of giving her a millisecond more to clear the distance between them.

Exactly what she wanted him to do.

He let her approach him.

Probably believing that she would attempt to draw her sword at the last possible moment and get within the range of the spear, as she saw him curl his wrist around the handholds of the shield in anticipation.

Exactly like she wanted him to do.

So as he brought his shield to bear once again. She steeled herself.

The eyes of the bestial woman flared a bright green but having prepared for it she did not hesitate in her approach.

His eyes widened ever so slightly.

And Sif tackled him to the ground, lifting him ever so slightly to bring him downwards quickly.

A release of air escaped both their lips as the heavy contact was made and they crashed to the ground in an eruption of sand.

With his shield arm pinned beneath her body, she quickly moved to draw the dagger at her waist and force a surrender intent clear on her face on ending this as fast as possible.

Perseus struggled to lift the shield and she exerted more force upon it.

The moment her first dagger was drawn, the shield he wore apparated away.

Sif fell a few inches on top oh him, effectively straddling the Son of Poseidon.

Despite the rather intimate position the two found themselves in, embarrassment was the last thing on their minds, if at all.

The dagger drawn, he raised his legs, bucked his hips and leveraged her position on his arm to launch Sif over his head whilst striking with his spear.

She had dropped her dagger at that.

Acting on instinct, at the very least to divest the Son of Poseidon of his enchanted spear, she latched onto the shaft below the blade and wrested it from his weakened grasp. It was not without repercussion however.

Her shield arm was regaining its feeling again bit now her sword arm was numb from the electric shock produced by the spear.

They both slowly stood, eyeing the other carefully.

Sif tossed the spear outside the ring and pounded her numb arm against her chest to force the feeling away.

Both down spears.

But now it was her turn to be at a decided advantage for while she was adept at the spear, her prowess truly lied with the sword.

She drew her signature weapon. The gleaming silver glinting against the sunlight. He drew the Asgardian sword at his side and gave it another couple experimental swings and twirls.

He did not summon his shield and Sif narrowed her eyes.

If her eyes were not deceiving her again, then there was humored glint in the emerald eyes of the Son of Poseidon.

She would have to keep a keen eye on any sudden wrist movement in case he decided his shield needed to make a reappearance.

And she also needed to be wary when on the offensive now, if she was unable to enforce the shield's presence then its enchantment would play its little trick on her.

It appeared he would not rely solely on skill and strength as well.

They returned to their circling dance once again. However, this time it was not a battle of scrutiny but one of wills.

Twirling challenges were had by the Son of Poseidon as he constantly adjusted his grip.

She hummed internally to herself and she forced the circle to close ever smaller. She had a plan now.

He flicked his wrist and was beginning another twirl of the Asgardian blade.

Sif struck.

And the moment the blade was easily batted to the side was when she knew she had fallen into his trap.

Perseus batted the thrust away in the midst of his twirl in what could only be described as an uncaring nuisance that needed to be swatted away. But the leverage he put into his swing had forced her forward and with that movement, her face was greeted with an intercepting outstretched golden armored arm.

She looked away anticipating the shield to make an appearance.

That had cost her again.

As instead of a shield bashing her with a wall of bronze, he had placed her in a chokehold and threw his legs out from under him, slamming both of them into the ground with extra force. Thor had done much the same whenever he wrestled with Volstagg or Loki.

And she knew for a fact that had it not been for the helmet she wore he would've felt an even greater pain. But she knew that she could not be so easily defeated.

She immediately twisted her body around the arm of the demigod and wrapped her legs around his neck in a counter-chokehold while also pulling the arm that had so recently clotheslined her and pulled backward on his wrist to prevent that damned shield from popping out, using the handle of her sword as leverage.

She felt his other arm swing with his sword toward her lower body and reacting purely on instinct she used the grapple in her shield. The golden coils quickly wrapping around his wrist and swordarm. The coil grew taut and locked into the position.

They would snap before they even began to loosen or until she ordered them to.

The grip on the shield arm of the demigod lessened and she twisted again whilst launching her sword to her shield hand. The wrist near twisted at this point.

Now with the leg-lock and preventing the shield from reappearing and also preventing him from striking her with the Asgardian blade, Sif tightened the hold her legs had on his neck and began to choke the Son of Poseidon until he yielded or went unconscious.

Perseus, of course, struggled against it. She would be disappointed if he didn't as that would have been too easy. His legs bent and thrashed and the wrist against her armored chest was attempting to curl while his restrained arm pulled at the taut metal coils.

It was a solid minute of him struggling before he began to taper off until finally relaxing.

She sighed in relief and loosened the grip.

His wrist flexed.

Uh oh.

The bronze shield smashed against her body and pushed her away from his arm and forced her shield away and consequently the golden coils snapped, Her legs tightened again as he discarded his sword, instead attempting to pry her legs from their hold.

The movement put her and the Son of Poseidon in another awkward position. Sif was separated from her shield and sword, due to Perseus pinning the arm that held them to the ground. Her legs attempting to choke the life out of the Demigod while his other hand attempted to break the lock, desperate for air.

Their gazes locked for a moment as Sif's free hand began to move for the bearded handaxe at her hip.

In what could only be described as desperation to not be beaten so handedly, Perseus propped his waist up and flicked upwards into a stand.

The movement had caught her off guard and, unable to tighten her legs any further for fear of giving herself a cramp in the middle of a rather important duel, she leveraged the shoulders of the demigod and kicked off him, backflipped and drew her sword mid-air before landing at a crouch.

Right behind the still stumbling Son of Poseidon and leveled her sword at the base his neck, resting on his shoulder.

Perseus froze.

"Yield?"

When he didn't move she inched the blade closer making her point known.

He bounced his shoulder and tilted his head while twisting his body to face her.

Her blade swung and caused sparks to cascade around them as it scrapped against the edge of the sharp frill of his helmet with the flat of her blade.

He swung his shield out at her and a flash of green emanated from the depicted woman's eyes.

Sif recoiled at the sight.

The shield hit her as if a wall of solid metal was thrown at her and she stumbled back.

He wasn't done. In one quick step he had closed the distance between them and struck with the edge of his shield. She raised her own shield in defense and the clash of solid metal rang throughout the fighting arena.

Sif used her sword having to eject the second blade to keep herself somewhat upright to balance herself but Perseus was intelligent if nothing else. If he even let up for a second, he knew she would use the superior reach of her weapons to win the spar.

Just like he attempted to do with her.

So he bashed the face of her shield again with the edge of his, leveraging his free arm for more and more strength.

And again.

And again.

Each time forcing her lower into the ground. The bottom half of her dual blade digging further into the sand pit.

She let go of her sword. It was now more of a detriment to her than keeping it.

Her primary weapon now out of play, she used what strength she could muster and shoved the Son of Poseidon away. It wasn't much but it was enough to force him a few feet back.

She drew her bearded axe.

He drew the large dagger from his back.

And just as they were about to continue their duel, the horns of the Palace dungeons sounded.

"There is no decision that we can make that doesn't come with some sort of balance or sacrifice."

-Simon Sinek

The song used as inspiration for the Undine Mini-Arc is Ludovico Einaudi's Experience Cover by Rousseau over on Youtube! Check it out and listen to it! (Disclaimer: Not paid to say this just thought I'd share the inspiration!).