𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 | 𝐩. 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

The world through a fish's eyes

Nico hesitated. "I don't play that game anymore. It's for kids."

"It's got four thousand attack power," He coaxed.

"Five thousand," Nico corrected. "But only if your opponent attacks first."

Percy smiled. "Maybe it's okay to still be a kid once in a while." He tossed him the statue.

Nico studied it in his palm for a few seconds, then slipped it into his pocket. "Thanks."

He put out his hand. He shook reluctantly. His hand was cold as ice. "I've got things to investigate," he said. "Some of them... Well, if I learn anything useful, I'll let you know."

Percy wasn't sure what he meant but he nodded. "Keep in touch, Nico."

He turned and started to walk away but stopped. "Oh, and Percy. If you hurt my sister's feelings again I will find you and kill you."

The son of Poseidon's eyes widened at the threat. Nico sent him a nod and trudged off into the woods. The shadows bent towards him as he walked like they were reaching out for his attention.

A voice right behind him said. "There goes a very troubled young man."

Percy turned and found Dionysus standing there, still in his black suit.

"Walk with me," he said.

"Where to?" The raven-haired boy asked suspiciously.

"Just to the campfire," he said. "I was beginning to feel better, so I thought I would talk with you a bit. You always manage to annoy me."

"Uh, thanks."

They walked through the woods in silence. Percy noticed Dionysus was treading on air, his polished black shoes hovering an inch off the ground. He guessed he didn't want to get dirty.

"We had many betrayals," Dionysus said suddenly. "Things are not looking good for Olympus. Yet you, Evangeline, and Annabeth saved this camp. I'm not sure I should thank you for that."

"It was a group effort."

He shrugged. "Regardless, I suppose it was mildly competent, what you three did. I thought you should know—it wasn't a total loss."

They reached the amphitheater, and Dionysus pointed toward the campfire. Clarisse was sitting shoulder to shoulder with a big Hispanic kid who was telling her a joke. It was Chris Rodriguez, the half-blood who'd gone insane in the Labyrinth."

Percy turned to the God. "You cured him?"

"Madness is my specialty. It was quite simple."

"But...you did something nice. Why?"

He raised an eyebrow. "I am nice! I simply ooze niceness, Perry Johansson. Haven't you noticed?"

"Uh—"

"Perhaps I felt grieved by my son's death. Perhaps I thought this Chris boy deserved a second chance. At any rate, it seems to have improved Clarisse's mood."

"Why are you telling me this?"

The wine god sighed. "Oh, Hades if I know. But remember, boy, that a kind act can sometimes be as powerful as a sword. As a mortal, I was never a great fighter, or athlete, or poet. I only made wine. The people in my village laughed at me. They said I would never amount to anything. Look at me now. Sometimes small things can become very large indeed.

He left Percy alone to think about that. And as he watched Chris and Clarisse singing a stupid campfire song together, holding hands in the darkness, where they thought nobody could see them, he had to smile.