Okeanakis's Arc

Chapter 11 of 2

Zeus was gone, and the trial he set had no shape yet. Okeanakis left the cloud palace and walked until the sea gave way to land. He found a wide lake ringed with reeds and flat stones. He sat on a rock at the water's edge. His trident lay across his knees. He looked at the blue water and tried to picture the trial ahead. Prove the mortal half serves Olympus. He did not know what that meant. He did not know where to start. His mother had never come to the sea court. She said the sea was no place for someone like her. Okeanakis wondered if Olympus was no place for someone like him. He did not hear his father come. Poseidon simply sat beside him on the rock. His black hair fell over his shoulders, blue at the ends. He said nothing for a while. He watched the water the way his son did. "You've been out here a long time," Poseidon said. "I don't know the answer," Okeanakis said. "Zeus wants proof. I don't even know what he wants me to do." "I can't give you that," Poseidon said. "The trial is yours. If I named it for you, it would prove nothing." Okeanakis picked up a small stone and threw it. It skipped twice, then sank. "You always had the answers before." "Not this time." Poseidon rested a hand on his son's back. "I can't fight this for you. But I can sit here." They sat. A fish broke the surface and dropped back. The reeds moved in the wind. Okeanakis felt his shoulders loosen. He had been braced for a lecture, or for his father's disappointment. Neither came. "I called your mortal blood a weakness," Poseidon said. "For years I said it. I was wrong to say it that way." He looked at his son. "You chose the girl over godhood. No god of mine would have done that. It shamed me at first. Then it didn't." Okeanakis turned to look at him. "You mean that?" "I do, Aki." Poseidon squeezed his shoulder. "I don't know what Zeus will ask. But whatever it is, the part of you that saved that girl is the part that will pass it. Stop treating it like a flaw to hide." Okeanakis breathed out slow. The lake was calm. His fear had not left, but it no longer filled his whole chest. He had spent this whole quest trying to prove the mortal half away. His father was telling him to use it instead. "I don't need to make it small," Okeanakis said. It was not a question. "No," Poseidon said, kissing his head then speaking against his hair. "You don't." Okeanakis stood. He gripped his trident and looked at the water with clearer eyes. He still had no plan. But he knew now what part of himself the trial would test. When Zeus sent word, he would not try to be less mortal. He would lean into it.