𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖 - l. castellan

𝒊. 𝒊𝒊.

"𝐀𝐃𝐇𝐃? 𝐃𝐘𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐗𝐈𝐀? 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄, 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒?"

"Check, check, and check once again," Brooklyn nodded, playing with the straps of her bag. She continued matter-of-factly, "Actually, I daydream so often I have huge gaps in my memory, I can barely read without wanting to bash my brains against the walls, and the only way I know I'm asleep is if some scary voice is taunting me."

The duo had begun their long journey to Long Island Sound a few days ago, entering Nevada just the last morning. They slept in alleys and parks, finding out of the way places without much hassle. They managed to get by with a mix of hitch hiking on random busses, stealing city owned bikes, and more. The days were long and tiring, and they both looked filthy, but they didn't have time to find a store for clothes. The fact that they could scrounge up enough food for the two of them was a big deal on it's own.

Over the two days, Brooklyn had learnt quite a bit about the Greek Gods and Goddesses. She learned that they weren't always present in their kids lives (she wasn't surprised), but that you could make offerings and pray to them for help and guidance. Whether they gave it to you depended on their mood.

Currently, the two of them were walking through the streets of Spring Valley, Nevada, a town near Las Vegas. Luke was trying his best to determine who Brooklyn's Godly parent could be, while Brooklyn simply tried not to think of how hungry she was.

"That's normal with people like us," Luke shrugged helplessly. "How about picking locks? Do you have a weird talent for that?"

"It's an acquired talent, not something I'm born with," Brooklyn corrected him. "After eight years—that's half my life, mind you—I've gotten this good."

"I guess that rules out Hermes," he told her. "You're probably not my sister. If you were, you'd be able to open a lock within seconds with no prior knowledge. That leaves... seven options for who your parents are."

Brooklyn raised a brow, "Look, I may not be the best with Greek mythology, but I swear there's a million Gods. What the hell does 'seven options left' mean?"

The afternoon sun beat down on them, forcing Brooklyn to put on a pair of sunglasses she nicked a few weeks ago to see Luke's face.

Luke winced, "Seven options left out of the twelve Olympians. The twelve major Gods and Goddesses are called the Olympians, and they're the ones that have cabins at Camp Half-Blood. There's Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, and Artemis, who have empty cabins. Hera and Artemis are maiden goddesses and Zeus and Poseidon don't have kids because of an oath they made a while back along with Hades. Hades doesn't have a cabin at Camp because he's not one of the Olympians. So, if you take away Hermes and the other four who don't have kids, that leaves seven Olympians."

Brooklyn tilted her head, trying to remember what her dreams had told her, anything that might help determine who her Godly parent was. It was hard remembering the details sometimes. Her brain often blocked them out when she was awake.

"But there are more Gods, right?" she asked when she couldn't remember anything important. "All the non-Olympians ones? Don't they have kids?"

Luke nodded, "They have kids, but their kids don't have the same powers as the rest of us. And their scent is much harder for monsters to track. Usually, they live out in the mortal world. Sometimes their parent will claim them privately, but they live in the Hermes Cabin if they make it to Camp."

Brooklyn grimaced, "Sounds tough."

"It is," Luke agreed, a shadow passing over his face. But then he shrugged, and it was gone. "But considering your dreams and monster attacks, you should be an Olympian kid. Hopefully you'll be claimed once—"