Remember (A Percy Jackson Fanfic)

18. Good to be home

Percy POV

Maybe I shouldn't have dropped the bomb on Jason like that. Don't tell Thalia I said this, but Jason's lightning bolts are way more powerful than hers.

Luckily, I was able to water travel out of the way before his second lightning bolt hit me but I didn't teleport far away enough and I was still within the area of impact.

When I did reveal myself to my old friends, I was immediately mobbed by them. At first, I thought I was getting a better welcome than I expected but when the first fist hit my face, I kind of embraced it and let myself get beaten. I knew I deserved it. Rachael could throw a mean right hook.

I had no regrets though. I was finally back home.

As bad as Jason's reception was, Nico's was much, much worse. If you think giant lightning bolts were bad, then try and imagine yourself getting held down by a dozen skeletons while your cousin, covered in moving shadows and a dark glow surrounding him, tries to advance on you. Thankfully, Will Solace was there to stop him and effectively probably, most likely saved my life.

The second I stepped into camp, I already noticed changes. When I had left, there were probably twenty or so cabins for the gods. Now, there was almost double that amount. There were a lot more cabins now and even though it was slightly crowded, I've never seen Camp Half-Blood so full of life. There had to be at least 100 campers now.

The cabins were not the only change at camp. Wherever I went, there were shrines. I was confused as to why there were suddenly dozens of random shrines within camp but then I remembered the conversation I had with Jason and my dear old sister Kym years ago. Jason had promised Kym that he would personally build her a shrine at both camps and it seemed like he kept his promise.

I was sad that most of my friends weren't at camp anymore. Most of them had resigned from their positions as head counsellors and had given their partial immortality to one of their siblings. They had gone to New Rome to attend college and live a normal life. Even though I missed them, I was happy for them. They deserved to live their lives without any fear of dying.

My cabin was the first place I went to after I recovered from the bruises and broken bones. It was the same on the outside: the low building with made with seashell-incrusted grey stone I had grown to love. On the inside, though, was a completely different story.

The second I stepped into the cabin, I knew something was different. Instead of the normal six bunk bedroom I was used to, my first impression of the changed cabin was empty.

Under further inspection, I realised that the cabin had indeed changed and it brought a small smile to my face.

All the bunk beds had been pushed to one wall, leaving the rest of the cabin free to use. On the opposite wall, however, was where the campers had evidently done something to.

In the middle of the room against the wall was a lifesize bronze sculpture. Around the statue itself was a bunch of beautifully drawn pictures and elaborate engravings. The images showed a young boy undergoing a number of quests, showing his hardships and accomplishments. It showed the boy fighting many monsters, from the hydra to the minotaur. 

There were names engraved in Ancient Greek around certain scenes. Tears found its way into my eyes as I read them. I recognized the names. The names of the fallen. The names of the friends I lost over the years. The names of legends. 

But above all the images was one large carving. It was simple, not too fancy or professional. It looked like it was hastily carved on with a knife and that was what made it look more fitting. Right above the statue was a word carved into the grey stone. Above the statue was my name in Ancient Greek, showing the name of the person in the images.