³Kingdom Come, heroes of olympus

002.

KINGDOM COME
━━ chapter two

━━ ELISA HAD FELT out of place many times in her life—back in Durango, those two years on the streets when people would avoid a homeless kid like her, that quest to save Artemis and Annabeth when she knew nobody with her but Grover, her first weeks at Camp Half-Blood when she didn't have friends like Drew and only her brothers to talk to. But here, all those times seemed insignificant.

               All things considered, Elisa seemed invited at a glance. She was offered a seat at one of the long tables, a nice seat too where she could lounge in the softness of the stuffed seat; Percy even sat by her, knocking his knee against her's gently, intertwining their hands under the table, smiling at her every time she looked at him. She was even offered food and drinks by passing air spirits. She would shake hands and nod at senior officers; she would smile and be as polite as she could be despite feeling as if her skin was crawling. She even met Percy's friends—Hazel, Frank, and Abilene. She wasn't sure what to make of them at first: they all seemed nice enough, but even they shifted and exchanged glances like they were unsure of what to do themselves. But they weren't rude; they were kind and welcoming. Elisa discussed with Hazel why she used cavalry weapons despite her height, with Frank she spoke about panthers ( he had a weird fascination with her dad's patron animals, but Percy only shrugged when she asked why ), and Abilene and she spent several minutes discussing plants.

               But Elisa knew she wasn't welcomed at Camp Jupiter. She wasn't wanted. She was on edge, the same on edge as when she was trying to make it to Camp Half-Blood for those two years. Her shoulders were rigid, she kept checking and double-checking every entrance, she kept looking over to anything that could be a weapon, looking for quick ways to escape the room in case things went totally south. She counted the heads of every Roman—making sure to be aware of how many were sitting at her table, how many were currently standing, and how many were sitting at tables around her. She felt like she couldn't breathe, too focused on how out of place she felt.

               Elisa forced herself to breathe through her nose, sitting up straighter as she scanned the table again. She knew why she felt so on edge—she was Greek, and she was a Greek in a very Roman place. It didn't help that the ichor that flowed through her made her much more acutely aware than any regular mortal; demigods were labeled with ADHD, but it wasn't. It was survival instincts. And right now, Elisa felt like prey surrounded by a hoard of smiling predators. It was written into her DNA from the Greek ichor that she needed to avoid anything Roman, but here she was, eating with them. She didn't know if she was the prey, or if all those Roman half-bloods looked at her like she was the predator ready to maul them to bits. She supposed she wouldn't blame them if they did look at her like that—she had flown in on a massive Greek warship with their old praetor declaring that they needed to make peace after millenniums of fighting.

               She wished she had an appetite, too. The Romans knew how to eat. The wind spirits—aurae—kept swirling overhead, bringing endless amounts of pizzas, sandwiches, chips, cold drinks, and fresh-baked cookies. Drifting through the crowd were purple ghosts—Lares, Percy called them—in togas and legionnaire armor. Around the edges of the feast, satyrs ( no, fauns ) trotted from table to table, panhandling for food and spare change. In the nearby fields, the war elephant frolicked with Mrs. O'Leary, and children played tag around the statues of Terminus that lined the city limits.

               It was all so ... friendly. It gave Elisa vertigo. She was supposed to be an enemy here, yet, they were treating her like a honored guest.