Percy Jackson: The Firstborn

Chapter 6: Chapter 6: Unexpected revelation

”It’s not as easy as you think, Damon.”

”Tartarus is a place of horror, full of dangerous creatures. And Tartarus itself is dangerous alive. Not conscious the way a person is conscious... more like a storm that knows your name. At least that’s how our mother described it.” Said Zeus

Damon nodded like it was just another warning, but he didn’t brush it off either. He stood there for a second, letting the words sink in, turning them over in his head.

The annoying part was how little he actually knew. The world outside had always felt huge, like everyone else had grown up with a handbook he never got. People talked about Tartarus like it was common knowledge, like everybody understood what it meant to step near that darkness... and I was tired of being the one catching up.

He kept his face calm, but inside he felt that familiar irritation—like trying to build something with missing tools. He could still do it, yeah... but it would take longer. It would be messier. And he didn’t like messiness.

He’d survived Kronos’ stomach.

Zeus’ voice cut through his thoughts, and Damon let the memory fade before it could settle too deeply.

Taking a deep breath, ”Alright,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. ”Then we do this the smart way.”

Hades nodded

”First and foremost, who locked the cyclopes in Tartarus? Asked Hades

”Uranus, the ancient king, in turn Kronos’ father ”Zeus replied to his brother.

Knowledge is power, and the only one of the brothers with sufficient knowledge of the outside world was Zeus, who had the advantage of not being eaten by his father and being raised by Rhea with the help of the Curetes and nymphs.

”Why? ”Asked Damon who was listening to the conversation.

”Does that really matter? ”Zeus said, annoyed by what he believed was a stupid question.

”Taking into account that no one confirms to us that they would help us and that we could be freeing a future enemy or even worse a future ally of the titans, yes, I think that matters” Damon replied to Zeus.

”Pfff” Zeus sighed in annoyance ”It is not known, some say that his father, Uranus, doesn’t like them, others because they represented a threat ...”

”I hope it’s the first one.”

Rhea used to tell stories the way other people gave warnings—calmly, like the danger didn’t deserve emotion.

Damon found her when the camp was quiet, when even Zeus had finally stopped talking. The fire was low, barely more than a red glow, and Rhea sat with her hands folded as if she’d been waiting for him.

”You’re thinking about Tartarus,” she said.

Damon didn’t deny it. ”Tell me about it.”

Rhea’s eyes lifted to the dark sky. For a moment, she looked older than a Titan should ever look like she was remembering something from before the world learned how to breathe.

”People speak of Tartarus like it’s just a pit,” she began. ”Like it’s only a prison beneath the earth.”

Her voice softened, but it didn’t become gentle.

”That’s the mistake.”

Damon leaned forward slightly. He didn’t ask questions yet. He just listened.

”In the beginning,” Rhea said, ”there was no ’beneath.’ There was no ’above.’ There was only existence... and the first things that existed.”

Damon’s brow tightened. ”So Tartarus is a primordial.”

”Yes,” Rhea said. ”A living one.”

She looked at him then, and her gaze was steady.

”Tartarus isn’t just where monsters go. Tartarus is what holds monsters. What swallows what the world doesn’t want to carry.”

Damon’s face didn’t change, but his attention sharpened.

Rhea continued, slow and clear, like she was teaching a lesson that could save a life.

”Gaia is the ground you can stand on. Uranus is sky you can look up at. Pontus is water you can cross.” She paused. ”But Tartarus... Tartarus is depth. Not measured by distance, but by meaning.”

Damon finally spoke. ”Meaning.”

Rhea nodded. ”It is the place the world throws away. The oldest weight. The first prison.”

She let the words sit, then added, almost casually, ”And it remembers everything that has ever been dropped into it.”

Damon’s eyes narrowed. ”Does it think?”

Rhea shook her head. ”Not like we do. Not like Zeus does when he wants something, or Hades does when he plans.”

She searched for the right comparison, then found it.

”It’s like a storm. A storm doesn’t hate you, Damon. It doesn’t love you. But it knows when you are in its path.”

The fire cracked softly. Somewhere beyond the camp, an owl called and then went silent.

Rhea’s voice lowered.

”When the primordials fought... when the first wars shook the newborn world... there were things even the gods couldn’t kill. Things that wouldn’t stay buried. Things that made the Earth bleed.”

”So they threw them into Tartarus,” Damon said.

Rhea’s mouth tightened. ”Not ’threw.’” She corrected him gently. ”They fed them to it.”

Damon stared at the fire, processing.

Rhea watched him for a moment, then spoke again, quieter.

”Tartarus is a prison because it chose to be one. And because it can be nothing else.”

Damon lifted his gaze. ”Then why would it hold the Cyclopes?”

Rhea gave a small, humorless smile.

”Because someone powerful asked it to,” she said. ”And because Tartarus enjoys being needed.”

Damon didn’t look impressed, but there was something in his eyes—an interest he couldn’t hide.

Rhea leaned back slightly, voice returning to that calm, teaching tone.

”Do you know why Tartarus is feared, Damon? It’s not the monsters. Those can be fought.”

Damon waited.

”It’s the way it changes rules,” she said. ”Down there, directions can lie. Time can fold. Echoes don’t repeat what you said—they repeat what you meant.”

A beat.

”And the worst part,” Rhea added, ”is that it’s patient.”

Damon’s lips pressed together. ”Patient for what?”

Rhea met his eyes.

”For you to make a mistake.”

The fire dipped lower, and for a moment the shadows around them looked deeper than they should’ve.

Damon didn’t show fear. Not even a little. But he did feel that familiar irritation—the same one he’d felt inside Kronos.

Not because of danger.

Because of missing information.

”So what’s the rule?” he asked.

Rhea’s expression softened—not comforting, just honest.

”Respect it,” she said. ”Don’t challenge it for pride. Don’t speak your doubts out loud. And if it whispers your name...”

Damon’s eyes sharpened.

Rhea finished, calm as ever.

”...don’t answer like you’re being called. Answer like you’re being tested.”

Damon nodded once.

”Good,” Rhea said. ”Now you’re learning.”

As you can see, I gave a little hint on Damon’s future Domain,s which will be Creation and Destruction and others. I think it would be interesting. Let me know your thoughts and critiques, please.

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