beach fight

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"I want to go straight through the woods, right to their flag," Luke decided, pointing his bronzed sword in the direction of the opposition's flag. The leader of the Reds had surrendered, most of their soldiers rolling around in pain on the ground. 

"Clarisse hunts in those woods, you know that," Luke's friend stuttered. 

"And so do I," Ciarda unsheathed her sword, taking her foot off of the throat of a boy she'd just taken down. The coughing and spluttering was music to her ears. The feeling of war spirit lifted her; it brought back her energy. 

"Besides, Annabeth has a plan," Luke glanced at Ciarda who nodded subtly. 

"Percy's on it. And apparently, Ciarda isn't there for backup anymore," Luke looked warningly towards the La Rue. "We both know I'm better help down here. Percy is very well hidden and will be fine as long as he doesn't bump into my sister." 

A short-of-breath boy, stout and plump, ran up to the two, breaking the tension between the two leaders. His helmet was lopsided and his cheeks were beetroot in colour. 

"Annabeth's spies have spotted Clarisse, Lilah and Nyte heading towards the hill. That's nowhere near the flag, but they say they looked murderous," He panted. Ginger curls peaked from under his helmet. 

Luke's steel eyes met Ciarda's dark gaze. "But that's where Percy is." 

Luke watched in amazement as the Daughter of Ares worked to make a plan. His best friend was finally working to be the leader in her birthright. "You guys go after the flag, Priscilla's group watches the prisoners." 

Grabbing a bronze shield from the ground, she picked it up and started running towards where she left Percy. She would prefer her prophecy to stay unmutilated. 

"Where are you going?" Luke hollered, Ciarda turning slightly with a mischievous look. "To cause chaos!" She yelled before racing up the foothill which glimmered in the summer sun. 

...

"PERCY?" Ciarda screamed hoarsely into the woodland, the sound of racing and leaves crunching all around her. She stopped, her lungs scratching and burning. Spinning in a circle, she realised that she was standing in the place she'd left Percy, and the stupid boy wasn't there. 

She walked a few steps, tripping and stumbling a few paces. Her eyes narrowed on moss with imprints of feet delved into it. Each imprint got deeper with every step, telling Ciarda that they'd set off running. 

Turning around, she saw Percy's helmet lying near a thick, fallen trunk. The charred spots around the trunk suggested that Clarisse had got to Percy first.

"LUKE?! ANNABETH?" Percy's voice was to her left and Ciarda's feet sped off in that direction. Her armour shook in time with her run. "FUCK, CIARDA? ANYONE!" His voice scratched with his shouts. 

Sounds of heavy footfall echoed beyond the trees, suggesting that Clarisse was chasing the new demigod. "You're a fraud, boy," Ciarda could hear the grin in her sister's tone. 

Usually, the terrorising of a fresh demigod would be appealing to Ciarda, but ever since she realised this case was different, she would do whatever it took to stop her sister. Percy was her prophecy, and just like Edward had told her, nothing could change that. 

Fate wanted them to be together, to do something important; Something that would be written about in History books.

The grunts of shock from Percy steered Ciarda towards the beach, her footfalls pounding on the compact earth. She spotted Clarisse in her orange shirt and red armour, and Percy on the floor. The water washed out stones, the tide rising, leaving the teenagers a small space to fight each other. 

𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐒  | percy jacksonWhere stories live. Discover now