Percy Jackson: An Endless of All

After my rage-filled outburst. I excused myself from Apollian and the rest of the family, along with the priests and priestesses. I went on to return to my realm in a swirl of sand. I made my way towards my castle and into the Library that holds all information and knowledge from the past, present, and future.

The winds of the Dreaming whispered like breath over old tomes, shifting between the endless rows of impossible books. The lanterns burned with starlight. Shadows bent in reverence as I passed.

I went on to meet up with Christopher, my loyal librarian, who stood beneath the spiraling tower of memory—his handsome, muscular form silhouetted in the golden glow of eternal lanterns. His expression was somber, unreadable, but heavy with concern. His arms crossed, and his sea-glass eyes tracked me as I approached the great doors.

He went on to greet me. "Welcome back, my lord."

"Christopher," I said back with a nod of my head.

"You're leaving," he said softly, voice steady, but his posture betrayed unease. 

I nodded. It is something I must do. it was also concerning for Christopher because I would be leaving my relam for a long while. It is nothing like, when I take my short breaks in the waking world.

Christopher went on to ask me, "Still no trace of Orpheus's head?"

I shook my head once. "None. Whoever took him has cloaked themselves with a silence that even the dreaming cannot breach. Which tells me much." 

Christopher tilted his head. "You think they're avoiding dreams altogether?"

"Yes. A waking mind, desperate to avoid even a flicker of rest, perhaps aided by divine means. Perhaps… darker ones." There were many options and individuals to choose from, and I had to cut that list down to a manageable number.

Silence fell.

Then, Christopher exhaled slowly. "Before you go... I have to ask. You told Orpheus once, long ago, that he was no longer your son. Do you still believe that?"

The air grew still.

I turned my gaze toward the swirling sky beyond the library windows—clouds folding inward like petals.

"…No," I finally said, quietly. "That was spoken in heartbreak. And anger. It was a lie I told myself to ease the pain of watching him suffer. But I am not heartless."

A pause.

"He is my blood. My son. I love him with every fiber of my being, even if I cannot always say it aloud. Even when he told me I was no father of his, but at the time, I knew those words came out of grief." 

When a person is at their lowest and in pain they will sometimes say things that they really don't mean. The only thing anyone can do is listen and help that person heal over time. 

Christopher looked at me for a long moment, then gave a small nod, his jaw tightening. "And when you find him?"

"I'll ask something of him. A duty… a role. A service. Something only he can do. And in return, when the time is right..." I let the words hang in the air like thunderclouds. With the use of these words, I promise to give a boon to my son, Orpheus, in return for doing something for me in the future.

"You'll grant him what he truly wants," Christopher said. Not a question.

I gave a slow nod. "Yes. When his purpose is fulfilled. When I'm ready to let him go. When he is ready." I left unsaid how much it will pain me to do so. What parent would want to see their child go?

Christopher sighed, stepping closer. "You do understand that offering death to an immortal is no small promise, right? Even for you."

I turned to face him fully. My voice, firm yet broken: "I took that from him once. I will not deny him again… not forever. But first, I must bring him back." I now understand my words and the significance of losing my son.

"What will you tell Lord Apollo, then?" asked Chrisptor.

"He will understand so, and he would always want what's best for his children after all," I said.

Christopher nodded his head because he knew that Apollo cared for all his children even, if he couldn't be in their lives due to a law. When Orpheus was made Immortal and just a head. Apollo would always make time to visit him, through out the years. To talk to his son and listen to him sing just like I had. 

And with that, I lifted my hand, calling sand and starlight to swirl around me.

"I entrust the Dreaming to you until I return," I said.

Christopher nodded. "And I'll keep a vigil flame lit for him. For both of you."

Then I vanished into the ether, drawn toward the unknown—into the waking world, into the minds that hide, into the silence where even gods dare not tread.

The search for Orpheus begins.

And if I must tear through realms, secrets, and pantheons to find him…

So be it.