Who the hell thought making me a Half-blood was a good idea? {ON HOLD}

Act Two-Camp days are, um, interesting days.

I tried to use a spear but immediately failed. My spear tip dipped into the ground so I tripped, and by the end of it, I had somehow gotten myself injured. My arm had a shallow cut- which hurt like a bitch- and Luke immediately began hovering and mother henning me. I had to let him drag me into the infirmary.

For those who don't know, imagine swinging around a heavy pole quicker than your opponent can stab you with a lighter sword. I just didn't have the muscle mass for it, so that option was right out.

The only two things that I've been able to do was Canoeing and Creative Writing. I won every canoe race I was in. Granted, I was cheating by using my powers, but I still won. Creative Writing was my jam; I was way less dyslexic than my peers and I was an actual writer in my past life, so I could churn out essay after poem after short story- unlike the rest of the campers.

Chiron seems to think that I may be a child of Apollo and has already booked me for a first-aid lesson to check if I'm any good at healing. I have no idea how to tell him that I once fainted during my first dissection in Biology.

Luke, Travis, and Conner seemed to think I was their little sister. Everyone else seemed to think I was an Aphrodite kid, except for one. Annabeth had straight-up asked me if I was possibly her sister when she caught me reading a book in English.

All of them are wrong.

Thursday afternoon, three days after I'd arrived at Camp Half-Blood, I had my first sword-fighting lesson. Everybody from cabin eleven gathered in the big circular arena, where Luke would be our instructor.

We started with basic stabbing and slashing, using some straw-stuffed dummies in Greek armour. I guess I did okay. At least, I understood what I was supposed to do and my reflexes were good.

I startled everyone when Luke told me to grab a blade and I just yanked on my necklace, unsheathing Riptide before copying an opening stance he had shown us. There were a few moments of silence from everyone until Kassandri broke it.

"Nice monster opener."

Kassandri was a bit weird for this era's humour, but she fit in right in my Gen Z mind.

"Thanks, I stole it," I replied reflexively.

Somebody chuckled but nobody asked any further. Is this some unspoken social thing with half-bloods, or some normal thing with humans in general?

We moved on to duelling in pairs. Luke told me I would be his partner.

"Good luck," one of the campers told me. "Luke's the best swordsman in the last three hundred years."

I already knew that; I'm his hand-to-hand sparring partner and am fully aware of how much he could kick my ass. It was just a matter of where, when, and how badly.

Luke showed me thrusts and parries and shield blocks the hard way. With every swipe, I got a little more battered and bruised. "Keep your guard up, Percy," he'd say, then whap me in the ribs with the flat of his blade. "No, not that far up!" Whap! "Lunge!" Whap! "Now, back!" Whap!

By the time he called a break, I was soaked in sweat. Gross. Everybody swarmed the drinks cooler, but I went straight to my lifted dinner goblet. I had figured out how to fill it with ocean water and have been using it as a less dangerous form of nectar. With a sigh, I ordered a refill before dumping it over my head.

Instantly, I felt better. Strength surged back into my arms. The sword didn't feel so awkward.

"Okay, everybody circle up!" Luke ordered. "If Percy doesn't mind, I want to give you all a little demo."