June 13, 1993. New Orleans. Just outside the edge of the the French Quarter.
The rain came down in sheets over New Orleans, warm and violent, hammering the old streets until the gutters overflowed and the air itself seemed to hum. Thunder rolled so close it rattled the windows of the narrow Creole townhouse, each crack of lightning briefly illuminating candlelit walls covered in veves, sigils, and protective charms older than the city itself.
Inside, a circle of women chanted in Haitian Creole, their voices rising and falling in practiced harmony.
"Kenbe fò… kenbe fò…" (Hold strong... hold strong...)
A woman screamed as another contraction tore through her. Sweat slicked her brown skin, letting it still glow in this trying time. Her long curly black hair clung to her face, but despite this she was still radiant. Her fingers digging into the sheets as she pushed with everything she had left. Her bright amber eyes burned with pain and determination.
An older woman stood at the foot of the bed, she was tall, dignified, clearly the leader of these women. Her skin was deep brown and was smooth, her gray-streaked hair wrapped in a white headscarf embroidered with symbols of protection and strength. Her accent was thick, and unmistakably Creole.
"You almost done Samira," the woman said calmly. "I see the head now. Push."
As lightning split the sky. The woman Samira screamed again and pushed. The chanting grew louder, faster. The surrounding Candle flames flickered and grew wildly, shadows in the background dancing across the walls like spirits crowding too close. Outside, thunder answered thunder, as if the sky itself was bearing witness.
Then... "Waah!"
A sharp cry filled the room. The women chanting stopped all at once, as all eyes were on the baby. The storm outside began to die down, the night skies
The older woman lifted the child in her hands, her eyes widening despite herself.
"A boy," she said softly. "He has Strong lungs and a spirit."
Samira collapsed back against the pillows, tears streaking her face as the baby was placed into her arms. He was warm and tiny, with dark curls already clung to his head, damp with birth, his tiny fists clenched as if grasping at something unseen.
"My son, happy birthday. I am so glad your here." Samira whispered.
At the Same Moment on Olympus....
High above above the Empire State Building in New York City, Olympus glittered beneath a perfect, eternal sky. The gods were gathered in celebration, music, laughter, ambrosia flowing freely. Apollo stood at the center of the celebration, radiant as ever, golden lyre in hand. His voice carried across the marble halls, beautiful enough to no one dare not listen.
Then he faltered as his voice stopped. The lyre slipped from his fingers and clattered against the floor. Apollo began to cry out in pain. He doubled over as cosmic power slammed into him, raw and overwhelming. A vision seized his mind, sharper and more violent than any prophecy he had ever known.
Around him, the air rippled. The Gods were surprised. Artemis rushed to his side. "Brother what's wrong?"
At the same instant. At Camp Half-Blood, the spirit of the Oracle screamed. At Camp Jupiter, the Roman Sibyl collapsed. Across the world, oracles and seer's alike gasped as one. And then, in unison, a voice spoke, ancient, echoing, carrying the weight of fate itself.
"Hear me, O gods and mortals alike.
The Child of Blood is born.
Born of violence and love.
Descendant of Death and Sea.
The blood of black, red, and gold shall be spilled.
Guided and protected by Death,
the Child of Blood shall drown the world in shadow's
and stand upon it anew.
Primordial, Ancient, and New shall bow,
as new blood floods the world."
Then Silence followed.
Some god's began to murmured.
"Was that a new prophecy?"...."Child of Blood?"...." Descendant of death and sea, you don't think?" As eye fell to Hades and Poseidon.
Zeus rose from his seat, lightning crackling in the sky around them. "A meeting," he snarled. "Now."
The Olympians gathered quickly, tension thick enough to taste. Zeus slammed his fist against his chair.
"You both broke your the pack and sired a child, didn't you." he protested, his eyes blazing as he turned first to Poseidon, then to Hades. "Which one of you sired a child?"
Poseidon stood slowly, trident in hand. " Brother, It wasn't me."
Hades' sat with his cold indifferent gaze. "Nor I brother."
Athena's eyes narrowed, thoughtful. "The prophecy does not say son or daughter," she said carefully. "It says descendant. A possible legacy."
The room erupted. Some gods whispered fearfully. Others argued strategy. A few suggested elimination, other's suggested sealing the child in Tartarus.
"A dangerous child," someone muttered. "Better dead early." Zeus' jaw tightened. "We must find this demi god and kill them before they gain power."
"That's going too far," Poseidon snapped, raising his trident. "We should not kill infants." Lightning sparked as Zeus lifted his bolt. "We do what is necessary, and If I decree it then it is law."
The air between them crackled with the threat of war. Unnoticed, Ares leaned toward Aphrodite. They shared a glance. A knowing smile.
"Well," Ares muttered, smirking, "guess our love little child finally showed up. Didn't see this coming." He chuckled.
Aphrodite's eyes glittered. "Boy or girl, I wonder. We should go visit Samira and give the baby a name. But those Witches have some powerful barriers." Aphrodite pouted.
Ares smiled. "Won't be hard to find baby," Ares said. "Those wards are strong, but it's a tourist city. That child, along with it's mother and grandmother are three powerful beacon's. Since Samira just gave birth the wards will be weakened."
Back in New Orleans...
Samira cradled her son, exhaustion heavy but her heart full of joy. The older woman, Madam Moon smiled softly.
"You did good, Samira," she said. "He is beautiful. what do you want to name him..."
Knock...knock...knock...Suddenly A knock came at the door. "Madam Moon," a man called. "Open the door please. It's an emergency."
Moon sighed and rose. " You all stay with her," she told the women. She opened the door to a dark-skinned older man, eyes wide with fear.
"Samar," Moon said. "My grandchild was just born. Can't whatever this is wait." Samar swallowed hard. " My father Papa Bones just had a vision," he whispered. "About your grandson."
He leaned in and murmured the prophecy, and Moon's eyes widened. She turned back toward Samira and the child.
Samira noticed immediately. "Mama, What's wrong?" Moon's voice was grave. "Your son is in danger. No....the whole world is."
Two figures stepped out of the shadows behind Samar. As lightning crackled behind them in the night sky. One was pale, tall, dressed in a long trench coat, black hair falling past his shoulders. The other was dark-skinned, immaculate in an all-black suit, circular black shades hiding his eyes.
Samar stumbled back. "Who are you two?"
Moon stood still, her eyes narrowing. "Thank you for the message, now go Samar," she told Samar quietly. "Now!"
He obeyed.
The pale man smiled faintly. "Greetings, Madam Moon."
The other inclined his head. "Good evening Moon, i has been some time."
Moon answered in Creole. "Tanatòs. Anibiz." (Thanatos. Anubis)
Both men smiled.
Thanatos stepped forward. " I have a warning and a blessing. My warning is Olympus knows of the child's birth. They will come to kill him."
Moon's jaw tightened. "And the blessing?"
Thanatos produced a black feather. "When this child nears death, his life shall burn brighter."
Anubis' voice followed, deep and resonant. " Set will probably come for the child at some point. So In darkness, he may call the dead to his aid."
Anubis sprinkled black sand over the feather. The feather turned to the black sand and washed over the infant.
Then suddenly, both gods stiffened. " This presence," Anubis said. "It's time," Thanatos agreed. They both gave a small nod to Moon, and disappeared into the night sky.
Moon's eyes widen. She was surprised two gods of death appeared at the day of her grandchild's birth. She new this omen was good as well as bad. She closed the door and dismissed the other women. "Thank you all for your help. I will take it from here."
"Are you sure Madam. We can help."
Moon nodded her head. "No I will have it from here."
Then within minutes the ladies gave their love to Samira and left. Samira tired and confused asked. "Mother who were those two men and what did they want."
Moon explained what she they said.
Samira's eye's widen in fear. "He was just born and he is already marked for death?"
Then the front door then exploded inward. As tall, rugged man in a biker jacket strode in, eyes blazing with divine fury. Beside him walked a woman of impossible beauty, her smile soft, dangerous.
Moon felt their power instantly. "What are you two doing in my home?" she demanded.
The man smirked. "Lady," he said, "we came to see our kid."