Percy slept with a stuffed star by his bed. Nobody ever knew why. Not because it was common knowledge, but because Percy never dared to spill the secret on when or how he was given the star. It all started when the Hermes head counselor, Luke Castellan, began to train Percy to become the second greatest swordsman in camp. Second, of course, only to himself.
See, there was a time when Luke was being plagued by nightmares so strong that they nearly killed him. Forces so powerful that even the gods could not protect their dear demigod children from coming into contact with the great evil that lies in Tartarus. So possessive that Luke’s body was almost turned into a vessel for one of the most vile creatures to ever exist— Kronos, the Titan Lord and the leader during the Golden Age.
It was none other than Camp Half-Blood’s least favorite camper, Clarisse la Rue, who ended up possessing the spirit of Kronos, but for the longest time it was nearly the son of Hermes.
When Kronos was coming to power, there was a day in which Luke’s body nearly became a vessel for something much greater than himself. A force of pure evil, destined to destroy the world.
Clarisse had lured both Percy and Luke out into the woods, saying that there was an enemy out there, and that camp would need protecting. But there was nothing except for a golden coffin— the physical embodiment of Lord Kronos himself.
Percy blocked out the majority of that day from his memory, but Luke has been thinking about it ever since it occurred. It plagues his every thought. The terrified expression on Percy’s face is permanently burnt into his eyelids, so that whenever Luke Castellan attempts to fall asleep, all he can see is Percy Jackson.
This whole ordeal was more of an Ares issue than anything else, but that’s not the point, really. The point is that Clarisse la Rue held Percy up by his throat, pinning him against a tree while threatening to make his body the next vessel for Kronos.
“Πάρε με! Χρησιμοποίησε με!” Luke had screamed, as Percy’s lips began to turn blue. “Αυτό που φοβάται περισσότερο ο Λόρδος Κρόνος είναι ένας ημίθεος με δύναμη.”
Take me! Use me! The thing that Lord Kronos fears the most is a demigod with power.
Clarisse turned to look at him, a wild look in her eyes. Luke never speaks in Greek, unless he is incredibly angry. In Clarisse’s moment of shock, Percy manages to break free, running to Luke’s side and breaking down in his arms.
“Oh, my gods…” Luke whispered in his ear, falling down to his knees and clutching Percy’s face in his hands. “You’re okay, you’re okay. We’re okay. Βόρειο αστέρι μου, είσαι ασφαλής.”
My north star, you are safe.
“LUKE CASTELLAN, STAND UP!” Clarisse’s vicious tone broke the two brothers out of their trance, and Luke rose to his feet, calmly walking towards Clarisse. He knew what he had to do.
The son of Hermes, born to die.
“Take me as I am.” Luke said, spreading out his arms. Backbiter lay on the ground 20 feet away. Luke was defenseless, but he didn’t care. He would do this a thousand times over if it meant that Percy didn’t have to endure the painful, agonizing wrath that Kronos’s possession would bring to his little body. “I may not be much, but I can fight. You can take me, break my body, mold me like clay into something I’m not. But please, for the love of the gods, do not take my baby brother away from me.”
Luke could’ve sworn he saw a tear run down Clarisse’s cheek at the desperation in his voice, but that moment was short lived. Clarisse stomped her spear on the ground, and electricity crackled at the top.
The son of Hermes froze, panicked, as Clarisse began to charge. He accepted his fate at that moment— he was going to be killed, and his body was going to be used to bring Kronos back to the mortal world.
“DO NOT TOUCH HIM!” a loud, but slightly squeaky, prepubescent voice screamed, and Luke was barely able to make out the blurred figure of Percy Jackson as he slashed Riptide at Clarisse, knocking her to the ground. Luke took advantage of Clarisse’s moment of vulnerability, and he dashed for Backbiter.
His eyes never leave Percy. Luke makes sure that, as he is going to get his sword, Percy remains alive and breathing— unscathed.
Running back towards the two demigods, he slashed Clarisse’s throat, spilling her blood onto the ground of Camp Half-Blood. A satisfactory feeling, killing the person that you were once destined to become.
“You…” A gurgling sound came from Clarisse’s throat. “How dare you.”
“Αυτό είναι εχθρικό έδαφος για σένα, Κλαρίς.” Luke scorned the girl, watching as Clarisse bled out on the ground. “Μπορώ να κάνω όπως θέλω.”
This is enemy territory for you, Clarisse. I can do as I want.
It’s true. Clarisse is no longer a camper here, but an intruder. Luke has the right to kill her, and he had every intention of doing so as soon as he saw her. Clarisse was the person that Luke would have become in another universe— he knows that— yet he refused to become that way. He didn’t want his entire life to be overrun by power and glory. Kleos.
Nothing else would have mattered to him. He once was that way, ruled by his hunger for power and bloodlust to prove himself. But he refuses to be that way anymore. He doesn’t want to become the guy who betrays the people he loves just because some Titan gave him a chance at power. No, Luke knows the ending for that. He knows that there will come a time where his body will be insufficient, and Kronos will simply dispose of him the same way that he’s always disposed of his victims. If he would have gone with Kronos, Luke would not have reached the age of 25.
At least now he has a chance of survival.
“Kronos… will rise.” Clarisse chokes out, blood pouring from her neck and her mouth. “You are… an… idiot. He will use… my body…”
“I don’t care.” Luke smiles down at her, the blade of Backbiter pointed at her chest. “I would rather him take a traitor than someone who has morals, Clarisse. You’re too power hungry. It’s a shame that you didn’t have a better ending.”
That was the day that Percy became Luke’s North Star, shining brilliantly amongst the other stars. Providing the brightest of lights and guiding him through the darkest of nights. Percy was the rock that kept Luke grounded to the earth, instead of sending him floating into a spiral galaxy of anxiety. So, for his fourteenth birthday, Luke gifted him a star plushie.
“Something to remember where you came from.” Luke had told him, shoving the plush into Percy’s arms. “You are a star, but more importantly than that, you are my brother.”
Luke survived the battle with Kronos, but that doesn’t mean that Percy’s nightmares went away. He feels like they may never fully leave him, but he’s slowly learning how to cope with them. At least Luke is always there to help— Percy genuinely doesn’t know where he would be without him.
He doesn’t want to think about that.
