Assassin Creed Odyssey Poseidon Trident Novels & Stories

I shifted it up, but when I pushed it into the middle, it locked in place, that the wolf’s eyes turned purple like glowing purple gems had been embedded in it. “Holy shit…” Trent whispered. The more lines of the poem I or Amos remembered, the easier assembling and moving the pieces around came. To the east, was the image of Shell Cove. Beneath that sections waves went a gilded, sparkling image of Atlantis and a swimming figure of Poseidon and his son, Triton. Above that was an image of the sky, complete with each phase of the moon. Each piece looked like it had been carved from moonstone.

Seumas, the god of the seas, looked Octavius up and down carefully keeping his facial expression blank, there was no telling what Ashterah would do if she knew he found the presence of her guest distasteful. When Seumas looked back at Ashterah he saw the anger in her eyes and knew he had definitely stayed longer than he should. He conjured his clothes back to his body; blue tunic strapped only on his right shoulder, his arm bracelets clasped themselves on his arm and his trident, a bronze three-pronged spear appeared in his outstretched hand.

His shoulder-length hair was a few shades darker than mine, with a beard. He wore a necklace, with gold arm cuffs, and in his hand he held a trident far bigger than Deliana’s. It dazzled brightly with a silvery staff, and the three-speared head was of a pearlescent silver that seemed to glow. Upon his head was a gold band. It may not be the most extravagant, but he didn’t need a huge headpiece to let all know he held immense power. That trident alone was enough proof of that. They all bowed their heads to him, and I followed suit. The door slammed shut behind us and I could feel Queseidon’s gaze upon me.

The chamber was small, shadowed, and thick with the scent of age and magic. At its center, resting on a jagged stone pedestal, was the trident. Even in the dim light, it radiated power—its three prongs sharp and black as obsidian, etched with twisting runes that seemed to shimmer as if alive. The metal pulsed faintly, as though sensing their presence, and an almost imperceptible hum vibrated through the air, setting every nerve on edge. Kaplan felt his pulse spike; it was more than a weapon—it was a force, and he had the distinct impression that one false move could trigger consequences they couldn’t predict.

I didn't stuff my boots with my knife; I would have sliced his throat open right this minute. "Kay!" he called out again, surprised, staring at me with his mouth open like he saw a ghost. This could only mean two things: Darius didn't tell him, or he is just pretending. He tried touching me, but Hayden grabbed his hand while he was groaning in pain. "Agnar, know your place; touch her, and I will kill you," Hayden said, Angry and his Lycan fighting to break free. I guess it can sense his rival.

This was no accident but a curse; the creature lying before them was its weapon. At that moment, Lake’s eyes fluttered open, golden irises laced with flecks of silver, cutting through the murky water like a beacon, and Kairos moved. He darted forward, but the Mer King’s trident rose with a crackle of light. However, Kairos had anticipated it, and before his father could strike, Kairos spun in the water, lifted his mother’s trident, and fired. The bolt struck the Mer King clean in the chest, knocking him off his feet and sending him crashing back onto the ocean floor, a cloud of sand and silt exploding around him.

Neptune announced that they were arriving and they all gathered on the beach about twenty minutes later, They saw them swimming with great speed to their shores. King Abatrose and his companions emerged from the ocean with majestic grace, their regal presence gained the attention of everyone on shore. Abatrose wore his crown, adorned with glittering gems that seemed to hold the enchantments of the ocean's depths. In his hand, he held his trident, its prongs shimmering with a soft, ethereal light, reminiscent of Neptune's mighty weapon.

Something enormous rises (spires of black coral and gold, domes that sing in frequencies that make human teeth ache). Atlantis. Not ruins. Alive. Angry. Beautiful. And directly in front of us, on a throne made of shipwrecks and whale bone, sits a man with sea-foam hair and eyes like the bottom of a trench. Poseidon’s grandson, maybe great-grandson (doesn’t matter). He wears the original trident across his lap like a promise. His voice rolls over the water like a tidal wave. King of Atlantis: “Queen of Land and Storm.

A creeping black aura poisoned the blue waters as it spread like ink. “You think you can escape me?” A cold, female voice echoed through the water. “Hand over the trident, and I might spare your life.” “You’ll never wield it, Aquari,” the King said firmly. “Even if you kill me, the trident will resist you—until its true heir claims it.” He stabbed himself through the stomach with the trident. His body turned to stone. The trident dulled, fading to a seaweed green. As Aquari reached for it, a burst of magic hurled her backward, surrounding the trident in a protective barrier. She screamed in rage.

All I felt was a strong force pulling me down into the dank, dark depths of the sea. Had Poseidon brought me here tonight to kill me? To get back at me for the way I'd behaved towards him? I felt suffocated as the need for air ridded my lungs and the restrictions began to choke me. Suddenly, sturdy arms wrapped around my waist with his breath tickling my face. He pulled me flush against his chest and clasped my hand around his trident that glowed in the water. "Hold it jelly," I felt him whisper in my ear.