"Forty Shillings on the Drum, for those who dearly longed to come.." Ogdoo looks at the darkened gray skies with a mutter, before shaking his head. "Don't think that's how it goes.." He scratches his head with his eyes becoming lost.
"There's Forty Shillings on the Drum, for those who are forced to come
To fight for the Olympian's Folly, Over the Hills and Far Away." He sings to himself as his memories drawback to that fateful day, when the world will never be the same again.
—
"Over the Hills, and Over the Camp
Siblings fighting Siblings, Within the Damp
When the Days have become no end,
Over the Hills and Far Away."
—
'When it was all simple so long ago.' He thought to himself with a sardonic smile.
'We were all fools, all of us are. In placing everything in a single basket before we finally lost the gambit.' He turns his head to the side, a Celestial Bronze sword with iron chains wrapped at the handle.
'Once were we grateful for the Divine that birthed us, now we look back at them with scorn.' He grit his teeth as he turns his head to an owl nearby, looking at me with feelings unknown.
'A purpose we once have; A purpose we didn't have.' He thinks to himself as he turns his body to a rugged satchel bag, he opens it. Within it is a journal that he'd kept since he left camp for the last time. He takes it out, with a pen with it, and begins writing.
It is in my purview, of the hopelessness of the situation.
Once we were great without Great Heroes, out and vanish like Hiroshima.
Those who fought and survived until the end within the very City, deserves the title that Jackson has been called many times: A Hero.
For there is no greater Hero in War, than the ones who fought and vaporized in a misunderstanding they call "For the Greater Good".
Now, writing this passage, makes me finally free to think of the Olympians that share our blood – A common lot of stagnant beliefs that quickly varies from extreme to extreme. From the Hunter's bloodlust against those who are of the opposite gender of them, from Zeus' restrictive concept of Kingship, from Hera's extremist concept of Family.
Why should they be considered family, when they themselves sought to end Family?
In the end, they show their true colors, as Zeus fought on to the very end – no brainer why he did so – the others fled with a manticore biting their tails.
The End of the Flash, from what I can confidently say may have been Zeus' plan to take the Titans down with him, now brings an uncertain world. Where we may be hunted down by their remnants and traitors, by the unleashed Hunters that are no longer restrained by Artemis Fowl, and by the many factions of the Normal World that become wizened up by the explosion – no doubt being helped by my siblings who believe their governments are the only option to defeat the Titanic threat.
He chuckles to himself at the latter statement.
However, that brings forth the question – The Demi Question. Of the many of us that remain now scattered amongst the winds of change into a new world, one which remains uncertain as the sound of electrified explosions vaporizing the whole of New York. Shall we be left as pawns by those who have greater power, those who'd toss each and one of us to the hounds of the unguarded Underworld? Left as a weapon of mass – well debatable on that as there are only a few Hades, Zeus, and Poseidon children left – destruction for everyone, without as much a concern and understanding that we are fellow people?
I raised an eyebrow at the harder-pressed ink on the paper.
"Perhaps there is something left to fight for." He mutters to himself with a small grim smile before shaking his head.
The World today may have been uncertain, but what is known, for that is certain, can only be answered by either the Titans – or the Mortals.
He caps his pen as he closes his entry, he places them in his satchel bag before he stretches his legs and sits up. He puts on the satchel bag, and stands up.
He was about to walk aimlessly in a different direction before an Owl appeared in front of him. He grits his teeth in irritation as it looks him in the eyes and a turn of its head, before poking him with its beak and flees to a different direction.
"That wasn't very nice." He mutters to himself scathingly as he takes his Celestial Bronze sword and places it at its sheathe at his right side. "Might as well follow it, nothing else to run – but can become dinner too." He shrugs to himself, seeing nothing wrong as he was going to go to a random area.
With everything with him, he follows the Owl – curious and annoyed at why it singled him out.
—
He's walked for many times unknown, following the owl that was, curiously enough, slowing down at times when he needs to catch a breather. Sometimes, he had to stop after some monsters, time and time again, managed to appear and forced him to confront them. The latter didn't help in making him much comely or making him calm-headed in favor of preparation for another fight, however he was still following the bird.
It is when he starts to question why he is still following the bird, he arrives in a small town, however still connected to the National Roadways of the Country.
He scrunch his face before opening his satchel to take a quick peek at a small bag of drachmas.
"Quite Risky." He mutters to himself, ignoring some quick looks he received from the locals. "The Titanic may use it as a trail..however there is a likely chance of a Grace Period with a focus on gloating over the Old Order." He looks at the sky as the sun shines down directly at them. "No doubt they'd first focus on the major cities nearby while sending a small token force to check the smaller towns close to New Jersey and New York.
"Any attempts to use the gold for anything other than exchange may end up being infiltrated, no doubt Water-Instantaneous calling using them would be watched over. Taxi services using gold may end up becoming tracking or kidnapping initiatives by the Coalition." He closes the satchel before noticing a weight on his shoulder, he turns to see the owl that he was following looking at him.
"What are you looking at?" He asks it before he shakes his head. "Might as well quickly go for it." He begins his advance into the small town.
All through the day, he searches for a Pawn Shop to exchange of a Drachma on him for Dollars to quickly get Non-Perishable foodstuff and water from the local grocery store (some not healthy, however, less likely to expire within a few days), some baked goods from the local bakery, and a can of RAID (good protection against spiders). Another look at the local convenience store on his way to the northern outskirts of the town allows him to also buy a magazine of maps indicating different states of the country and a compass.
After settling the supplies within his satchel, he takes one last look at the town, before starting to walk towards the nearby forest in the western direction – a location in his head to hide in for a while.
—
The History of the World now looks upon us in searching for the new pillar – that we were thrown onto – with subtle hope, however, how can they do so, when we ourselves could not hold the hope we once did?
He finishes a passage into his journal before placing it inside the satchel, he turns his head to the piece of bread he is eating. He finishes eating it as he turns his attention towards fixing his encampment to head back onto his journey once again.
The air is crisp in the coolness of the winds, with humidity helping make things cold – however he can handle it. Time spent in the camp didn't make him incompetent in the basic necessities and ideas of survival. One step of it will always be to become calm, for panic can destroy more than one can simply imagine.
He looks at the sky with a forlorn expression, missing the days that he and his siblings were out and about at camp – training and bonding together as comrades and fellows with the other Demichildren of the Olympians. He even made some drawings in his journal dictating the past years staying in camp. It was only during the School Seasons did he just focus on completing assignments within the classroom time so he wouldn't need to do much of them when the day was complete.
Still, those times were much preferable to the uncertainties that remain in this new Status Quo..
The sounds of a march alerted him that he was no longer alone.
Scrunching his eyes, he surveys the grounds before him, with a hand grasping the handle of his Celestial Bronze sword while wearing his satchel. It was likely to be a sweeping probe of the Coalition forces. Possibly meaning his theorized grace period was over, and they started a check on nearby areas to make sure there aren't any survivors of the Camp's Army. Quite possibly, there is an army close to his location.
For his survival, he must evade them as long as he can.
Being as quiet as he can, he swiftly darts away from where the sound was heading, preferably at the left side on the off-chance anyone was following his trail.
On the move, the chills from the cold and humid air only increased as the air went around him. His breathing, however, manages to become much more efficient in the ways of stealth and stamina after his journey in quickly leaving The Big Apple. His footwork was taken after gym class (he never expected to actually use knowledge from that seemingly useless course) with instruction to be light on the feet, and ways of breathing to increase the duration of a jog.
His eyes and ears remain vigilant, looking at his sides and listening to anything out-of-the-ordinary coming from areas he could not see with his eyes. His adrenaline raced within him to give an additional boost to his stamina to keep his advance on-going for an undetermined amount of distance and time before stopping for rest.
He opens his satchel to take a sip from a bottle of water, before placing it back inside and closing it. He sits beside a tree to recover strength to run again. He takes focus on his surroundings once again, his ears listening to the environment as his eyes look sharply at anything and everything around him.
The returned singing of the birds, now he can hear them echo afar from his current location. The sway of the grass on the cloudy day showed not a single moment of anything supernatural. Not even signs of a hidden attempt by monsters to get a free kill.
Just simply the sounds of the forest-
He darts towards a bush as he sees a person's head, his left hand grips his Celestial Bronze Sword as he pulls it out – his right hand wrapping the iron chain from the guard around the blade. Once finished, he decides a little reconnaissance wouldn't hurt to gain full context and full necessity of needing to flee.
With dread, he pushes it down as he makes his advance to a small opening that allows him to glimpse at the otherside without being caught easily..
Only to see some humans with those..blue uniforms and muskets standing in two lines.
He becomes confused, before he unwraps the iron chain and sheathes his blade as he looks at them in their performance with curiosity in his eyes.
"Chargez armes!" A person calls out in what sounds like in French, with an American Accent to it. The soldiers quickly draw their right leg back in a pivot, holding the musket in a position.
"Ouvre le bassinet!" The soldiers push the hammer of the gun forward with their thumb, before bringing their hands behind them to pull out a rolled up paper, bringing it close to their face.
"Dechirez cartouche!" The soldiers then bite on the edge of the rolled up paper, pulls the edge off, then spit off the paper that was in their mouth.
"Amorcez!" They look down at the musket as they pour the substance in the paper into the pan of the musket.
"Ferme le bassinet!" They close the hammer onto the pan.
"L'arme à gauche!" They point the musket's muzzle upwards.
"Cartouche dans le canon!" They load the substance inside the barrel of the musket before pouring in the paper.
"Tirez la baguette!" They pull out an iron rod from the musket.
"Bourrez!" They give the barrel two taps.
"Remettez la baguette!" They return the ramming rod back to its place.
"Armes!" They pivot their right foot to the side as they prepare to fire the musket.
"Joue..Tirer!"
A loud explosion of musket fire makes his heart leap as he stops moving, the grounds are blanketed by gunpowder smoke fills the area around them.
—
"This..Napoleon, wasn't he the one behind the Louisiana Purchase?" He asks a reenactor with a raised eyebrow.
"He isn't just 'someone behind the Louisiana Purchase', he's the one that changed history!" The reenactor replied with zeal, as he began to spill out facts about Napoleon.
Honestly, he wasn't sure whether to make another curse at the American Education System. He's heard about many complaints about it from other members of the camp who also go to schooling outside camp. With all their focus on themselves, they seem to be quite missing the case with missing out the Napoleonic Wars, not to mention how he couldn't have known about that tale of events.
He would not be surprised that if the Education System actually placed an effort in learning about some European or even Asian conflicts rather than a page note, a lot of teenagers wouldn't complain about the boringness and would spare teachers from 'don't need history!' speeches from students.
"..It was only a shame that, for a person that started out with a bang
." The reenactor speaks out with a chuckle at the latter. "He also went out with a whimper."
"Many Great figures of History usually do." Ogdoo nods as he counts from his fingers. "Alexander the Great, Julius Ceasar
don't know why teacher usually ignores any in-depth questions about the Romans, Justinian the Great.."
"Nothing about Shaka Zulu." The Reenactor ignores Ogdoo's confused face at that name. "Gustavus Augustus-"
'Can't be Roman' Argead thinks to himself.
"-Sébastien le Prestre de Vauban, he created the Star-Forts that dominated Europe-"
'Those Forts in those pictures!'
"-Then there's Ghengis Khan, Sun Tzu-"
'The one that made poetries about warfare?' He remembered reading that book in the Athenai Library back at Camp, he had complaints that it didn't really teach warfare until he took a closer look at it with comparisons to Alexander's and Caesar's Battles.
"-So forth." The Reenactor waves his hand. "I can loan you some books about them and others I recommend, seeing as you had suffered the same thing I did when I was just a school student." He looks at him with a haunted look. "Let's say I didn't have a nicer breakdown when.."
"Sure!" Ogdoo responds in enthusiasm, then he begins thinking through on how hard it'd be to read the books before letting out an inward groan as he realizes he wouldn't have enough time to be able to request help to read through it. No matter, it looks like he'll have to actually pay attention and use anything he remembered that helped him get through his reading disabilities in order to educate himself with this untapped knowledge.
"Make sure to return them when you're done." The reenactor responds to him as he waves his hand forward, heading towards a nearby building that has fellow members of the reenactment taking a break in.
—
..to change a culture, is to change themselves. For the mistakes of the past repeated under guise of "Wise Traditions" that no longer have purpose in a world that drastically changed to the one they've known before; those traditions broke Camp Peter Jackson of their armies and skewed practices of a blind belief of the Divine 12 That was meant to be our Governors and Members of Family. Now, their cowardice is well known – for Zeus' plan to self-destruct the region to keep the Coalition Army at bay and remove the seat of their power once and for all, taking down everyone with him. The others fled, never to be seen again.
He finishes writing down another of his self-contemplations into the journal with a satisfied smile, however, his face could only turn a bit grim as he recollects his thoughts about his journey so far.
Ever since that fateful day, he has not met with a single of their once formidable and loyal Campers of Camp Peter Jackson – not a single one! He wouldn't be surprised if they've all gone off in defeatist runs, he himself was filled with grief when the great catastrophe happened and still lingers some nostalgia and sadness of the simple days of being a Demi.
However, with his time spent alone unto himself, he has begun thinking of the old customs he's observed and even practiced during his time at camp. Of blind faith and obedience to the Divine without a measure of protection or trying to make sure they are comforted and guided to become better people. In doing so, spitting at the face of the many figures of history that allowed Greece to rise to the occasion and form an influence that still inspires many people.
What helped him conduct his findings were the enlightened books he gained about new figures of history he wouldn't have noted before, in addition to closer looks to other "obscure" figures of history such as Octavian Augustus (he has a weird feeling about anything related with the Romans, possibly a cover-up?), Bernadotte, Shaka Zulu, Erwin Rommel, Otto von Bismarck, and others in addition to policies and what each of them did.
In these comparisons, he wrote his observations and solutions in order to formulate a new way of living, if he were to export these new discoveries and thoughts to others.
However, for the time being, he could only continue his new way of coping in the way of thinking and learning. Mayhaps someday he can help someone to reunite the Demichildren under one banner to take a stand in this trying time..
Over the Hills, and Far Away.
N/A: This is the character I was talking about before considering that he should be his own character in the Quest. Made the time vague with less mentions about technology to allow for flexibility.
If anyone is curious about his name, Search up "Argead Dynasty" on Google, in addition to "Ogdoo" in Google Translate from Greek to English, then search up "What does Octavian Mean?"
