August's first memories of this new life before him were that of Foulness Point, the unsaturated gloomy skies of England that August grew accustom to, but with an unfamiliarity of location, the realization that in the course of August short memory he had traveled 50 miles out from London, drenched through the bone on the shores near the ocean, utterly alone. The last thing that August remembered was walking to his parents home from the hospital, near the River Thames, it was a stormy day, but most were in London, then the water overtook him.
He must of fell in, but to be washed out 50 miles and survive was what confused August. To get his bearings, the fledgling surgeon stood up, wiping the wet sand off his clothes as he looked around the empty beach, all but for one man who stood near the mainland, who was looking his way. Was he watching him, and if so, for the man would very easily see that August was laying there for quite some time, why didn't he help? He started towards the other, cautious at first but it was the mysterious man who spoke up first.
He knew him, by name, saying that they had been searching for August for quite some time but that there were no traces of August's godliness to go off on, godliness being that August Rhodes was a demigod. He must of died, it was the only logical scenario that would play out in August's head, but as the man introduced himself as the Greek God Hermes and that he was there to show August to his new life, that surely must be the case.
It didn't dawn on August that this was all real until they were on the Pegasus, flying quickly back to London, walking through the same crowds that an oblivious August walked through only a few days ago, towards Big Ben and through it. A summer camp, a stark different from the gloom of London, cabin and stone buildings, Grecian, it was all real! The God lead August towards The Temple, it's size ever intimidating as August was lead alone into it's dark antechamber.
More people awaited him, about a dozen or so, sitting on stone thrones where surely the stone statutes of the Gods would be, it was clear who these people were. August felt his heart pounding against his chest as he moved his eyes from the man sitting in the middle of the crowd to either side, seeing the men sitting beside him, knowing one had to be his true father, Poseidon.
August was presented with a golden chalice, a warning given to August, speaking on how strange it was that it took this long to find him, that it would be of the upmost importance that they wouldn't lose either other again and to implore August to walk along this path with them, all he had to do was pass the Trail of the Ambrosia, so looking down into it's golden hue, August took his fill.
As the liquor fell down his throat, he could feel it thickening, like drinking molasses, closing August's airways as he dropped the goblet, it clinging against the marble floor and it's contents spilling out, the golden hue replaced with dark water and it was unending. In return the molasses had worked it's way up and out of August's mouth, which like the chalice was endless, dark water filling up the antechamber quickly, it wasn't long before the water was at his chest, rising high above his head as the waters started to chur, pushing August around the room. He sunk, deep into the water and beyond where even the floor had been before, the only light in the dark antechamber being from a singlar sky light above.
He was drowning, much like in the river, was this his hell, to wake up back on Foulness Point and to repeat this process all over again? He couldn't live with this, he had to fight, and like had had solved a riddle, that pressure in his lungs dispelled, he was able to breath again, clinging to the fresh oxygen before realizing he was still under the churning waves, he was breathing underwater. There was no time to think of the magic and science at play here, the water was still rising the floor still sinking, he would be trapped here if he didn't escape, so to the surface he climbed, pushing the water back with ease as he rose to the surface, closer and closer to the light above and through, pushing himself through the hole and onto the roof of the temple.
The sun baked it's warmth into the demigod who was drenched once more and as he looked through the skylight back into the antechamber below, the water, and the Gods were gone, but the only question now was, how does he get down?
