Chapter Text
Being summoned by Olympus was far from unheard of, but it was still a rare occasion, and one that Chiron knew was notable. As he wheeled himself into the elevator, he wondered what it was. Why he was being summoned. Dionysus had not returned to camp since he’d abruptly vanished two days ago, so there was no chance of getting information out of the god. He suspected it had to do with his… unfortunate mistake in his handling of Grover. Zeus had been angered by it, and Chiron had to admit, he had good reason for it. If Grover died before he finished his ascension, the entire pantheon would mourn.
As the elevator reached the 600th floor, and the doors opened, Chiron had a sickening feeling that there was more to his summoning. Much more.
There, standing on either side of the doorway, were Kratos and Bia. Two of Zeus’s personal enforcers. Neither the personification of Strength or Force said anything, only waiting as he got up out of his wheelchair, stepping onto Olympus’s cobblestones with his own hooves. Then, they both took up positions next to him, and together, the trio started walking up the peak. Both gods were silent, but the centaur could feel their presence. It had not escaped him that their position was not as an escort, but as a guard. They stood at precise points, where they weren’t inhibiting his ability to walk, but if he tried to escape them, they could grab him before he finished a single stride.
Eons of experience and instincts coiled in his chest. It was only this same experience that was telling him how much danger he was in that kept him from doing something foolish like attempting to bolt, or show anything more than calmness on his features. The city was quiet, but not empty. Nymphs and minor gods were watching, either openly or around windows or corners. Whatever was happening, they knew. They knew what was going on far better than he. Using his centuries of knowledge, Chiron did his best to examine the faces he was passing for their emotions. Cold. Anger. Disgust. The gods weren’t just displeased with him. They were angry.
As they climbed, Bia grabbed his shoulder, tightly enough that he knew he was going to bruise. Then, with Kratos grabbing the other side, she pulled him away from the road to the throne room, where he had started walking. Instead, they moved him towards another path, a road that led to… the Temple of Justice?
Worry coiled in Chiron’s heart now. Whatever was going on, it was unlike anything he had dealt with or heard of in all his years of life. He took a breath to steady himself. Whatever his fate was going to be, he would meet it.
The enforcers did not let go, seemingly almost… happy to have had the excuse to grab him. He didn’t fight them, moving in tandem and stepping up the stairs. Finally, at the doors to the temple, Kratos let go, stepping to the side and standing in front of the left door. Bia, on the other hand, leaned in, and hissed, “His Majesty wanted the Furies to be the one to escort you. But I convinced him to grant my brother and I the honor. It is not nearly enough for what you did to my son, but I will take the small satisfaction of personally delivering you to judgment.”
With that, she stepped back, finally letting go. Her son… Chiron couldn’t recall a camper being a child of Bia. But there had been so many campers over the centuries. He took a breath again, and stepped forward. The doors opened without his input, allowing him to canter in. Don’t bolt, don’t charge in. Walk calmly. The gods would not have the satisfaction of seeing his fear, not like-
Chiron cut himself off from that train of thought. Both because the ancient memories were pure agony, and because he knew he would need to be present. The inside of the Temple of Justice was a courtroom, and seated at a podium was Themis. Titaness of Justice, and one of the oldest deities on Olympus. Slowly, Chiron climbed more steps to reach another podium, one with a pair of massive scales in front of it. Out of the corners of his eyes, he saw Dike and Horkos, Themis’s attendants, stepping from the shadows on either side. Finally, he came to a stop at the podium, and gripped the sides of it. He told himself it was to be proper, not for the comfort of a solid surface under his hands.
“Chiron. Son of Kronos. Trainer of Heroes. You stand here on trial for five counts of treason, two counts of conspiracy against prospective ascendants, 173 counts of dereliction of duty, 57 counts of abuse of power, 40 counts of murder by proxy, and 81 counts of manslaughter. How do you plead?”