Percy Jackson: An Endless of Dreams (BL)

As the last grain of dream-sand vanished into stillness, silence hung thick in the temple… until a dry voice broke it:

"Honestly, don't let my father's theatrics get to you," said Orpheus with a smirk on his face.

The trio jumped.

Orpheus's severed head gave an exaggerated roll of the eyes where it rested upon its marble pedestal. "Always with the grand entrances and cosmic pronouncements. The man never learned how to just walk into a room like a normal immortal." I gotta make an entrance somehow, my son, I thought as I watched the ongoings from my realm.

Lily blinked. "Wait—father?"

Remus's brow furrowed. "You mean Dream? He's your—?"

James nodded before Orpheus could answer. "Yes. Orpheus is the son of Dream of the Endless."

Sirius's jaw dropped. "You're joking."

Orpheus chuckled, the sound light and lyrical. "If only. Imagine growing up with that as your bedtime storyteller." You had a wonderful childhood, I do say so myself.

Lily leaned in, curiosity blazing in her emerald eyes. "But… who was your other parent then? Surely not—"

Orpheus gave her a crooked, almost boyish smile. "I'm surprised it took you this long to ask."

"Who?" Sirius demanded.

"Think music," Remus said slowly. "Light… poetry…"

"Gods," Lily whispered, realization dawning. Like something shattered in her brain.

James stepped aside and gestured at the mosaics lining the temple walls. One shimmered with the golden figure of a young man holding a lyre, surrounded by laurel trees and sunlight.

Orpheus sighed dramatically. "Yes. That Apollo. God of music, light, truth, other stuff, and drama."

"Greek gods… are real?" Remus said, sounding more like a philosopher than a skeptic now.

"All pantheons are," James confirmed. "Greek, Norse, Egyptian, even the minor ones. But the Olympians hold a special stake in the West. They moved with the heart of civilization—from Greece to Rome, then Britain, and now… America."

Sirius groaned. "So let me get this straight—we've got a severed immortal head that can talk, the Lord of Dreams appearing out of sand, and now literal Greek gods."

Lily stared at Orpheus. "So you're… a demigod and the child of an Endless?"

"I was very popular at dinner parties," Orpheus said smugly, even though he is an immortal head now.

Just then, a radiant golden light flashed in the air like sunlight breaking through stained glass. It coalesced in the center of the temple with a soft hum—before flaring once.

"Miss me?"

There stood Apollo—effortlessly handsome, glowing from within like a living sunbeam. Golden curls framed a face that looked carved by desire itself, and he wore modern clothes—white trousers, a gauzy golden shirt left open to the chest, and a lyre slung casually over his back.

Before anyone could react, Apollo strode up to Orpheus, leaned down, and pressed a gentle kiss to his son's forehead.

"You were talking about me. I could feel it. Thought I'd drop by."

Orpheus groaned. "Of course you did."

Apollo turned to the stunned trio, winking. "Don't worry. I won't stay. I just came to say hello to my favorite mortal audience and my favorite immortal head."

Lily was speechless. Sirius looked like he was trying not to gawk. Remus… was scribbling mental notes furiously.

James just shook his head in fond exasperation. "They were just asking about your side of the family."

Apollo clapped his hands. "Well! I'm radiant, talented, extremely handsome, and I once beat Hermes in a limerick contest. That about sums it up," he said with a smile on his face.

Then, with a twirl of his fingers and a grin, he vanished in a burst of golden light, leaving behind only the faint scent of laurel and sunlight.

There was a pause.

"…Did he just…" Sirius began.

"Yes," James said.

Lily blinked. "He's… he's something."

Orpheus sighed. "That, Lily dear, is the understatement of the century."

They all laughed, the tension broken, the reality settling.

The world had become much bigger, and far stranger, than they had imagined.

But somehow… it felt like they were exactly where they were meant to be.

After Apollo's dramatic departure, the golden shimmer of divine light faded from the temple, leaving the four mortals alone again with Orpheus's talking head and the ever-watchful presence of myself standing quietly in the background—like the shadow of eternity itself. By background, I mean in my comfy throne, and spying through the eyes of Matthew. 

James turned to his friends. "Come on. Let's explore a bit. There's more to see."

He led them deeper into the marble corridors of the temple. The structure was ancient yet preserved by time and magic—friezes depicting tales of heroism, mourning, music, and tragedy lined the walls. In the heart of the temple stood a sanctuary carved from twilight-colored stone, where Orpheus's pedestal sat beneath a domed ceiling painted with constellations that moved ever so subtly.

Sirius whistled. "Okay, I'll admit… this is seriously impressive. And weird. But mostly impressive."

Remus approached a mosaic depicting a man with a lyre, holding a child wrapped in golden swaddling clothes. "Is that… you and your son, Orpheus?"

The severed head smiled wistfully. "Yes. That was the boy who began the Potter line."

Lily tilted her head. "But… I thought the Potters were British."

"They are now," Orpheus said. "But the bloodline—it began in Greece. Around 5 BC. My son's name was Eirenaios—he was born of a moment of passion... and perhaps questionable judgment."

Sirius raised a brow. "Oh, this is going to be good."

Orpheus chuckled. "His mother was married to an eighty-year-old merchant. Wealthy, powerful, and boring. She was only eighteen. He thought she was barren. But when she met me—young, radiant, a demigod and poet—let's just say sparks flew… and a son was born. The merchant knew because he chased me down the dirt road until he tired out. I also didn't know she was with child until my father, Dream, brought me my son to this island."

Lily gasped. "You mean—"

"Yes, my father brought my son when his mother died in the birthing bed," Orpheus continued. "I watched him grow up and had help from priests and priestesses to help care for him here, where we live in peace under the protection of both my fathers."

He glanced toward Matthew, who remained silent but watchful on a branch nearby. He knew I was watching.

Remus folded his arms. "So… Eirenaios became the first Potter?"

Orpheus nodded. "No, he wasn't the first potter that was Linfred of Schihome, the potterer. It wasn't till the 12th century that the potter's got the last name Potter."

Before they could ask more, a long, soul-shaking howl pierced the air—deep, wild, ancient.

The temple trembled. Dust rained lightly from the ceiling. Birds fled from the trees outside in a flurry of feathers.

Lily clutched James's arm. "What was that?"

Remus's face had gone pale, and he stumbled back, pressing his hand to his chest. His breathing grew ragged as the werewolf within him stirred and recoiled.

"That sound…" he whispered. "It's not natural."

Sirius had drawn his wand on instinct. "That wasn't just any beast. That sounded like a monster."

But James stood calm, serene, even. "It's alright. That was just the family's… doggie."

He smirked.

"Doggie?" Sirius hissed.

Orpheus laughed, his voice rich and sonorous. "That 'doggie' is a towering immortal direwolf, the last of its kind. He's been living on this island since my son settled here. A gift from his grandfather—Apollo—to serve as protector of the bloodline. He only howls like that when new blood steps on sacred ground or when he wants to play."

Lily's eyes widened. "So he's sensing us?"

Orpheus nodded. "And welcoming you."

"Welcoming?!" Remus said, still shaken. "That didn't feel like a welcome."

James placed a comforting hand on Remus's shoulder. "He'll understand you're my family now. All of you. He'll come see us soon."

As if on cue, another softer, deeper rumble echoed from beyond the trees—closer this time.

James smiled. "His name is Luekos. He's as old as the Roman Empire or older since he was given to Eirenaios. He is very loyal to the end. He guarded my ancestors, and now he guards us."

Sirius slowly lowered his wand. "I swear, James… your family is one surreal surprise after another."

James laughed. "Just wait until you see the next part of the island."

They turned toward the temple doors, the light outside dappled through ancient olive trees. Somewhere in the woods, the crunch of massive paws grew nearer.

And behind them, Orpheus's voice echoed with pride.

"You're not just friends of James anymore. You are now part of a legacy that stretches across time, gods, and dreams."