Disclaimer: The world of Percy Jackson, its characters and settings are the copyrighted works of Rick Riordan and his publishing companies and affiliates. No profit was made from the writing of this story nor was any malice intended in any way, shape or form to the author or the actors/actresses who so brilliantly have brought them to life.This author is not responsible for underage readers. Please observe the ratings, warnings, and age of legal consent for your country.
In the end, Camp was way cooler than my first impression.
My days were busier than I was used to and I often found myself having to isolate myself so I didn't get too overwhelmed. On the other hand, I'm now on good terms with the naiads that live in the lake since I keep hiding at the bottom of it. They call me 'My Lady' and 'Princess,' which strokes my ego like I'm an overgrown cat. I never really did fully get rid of my princess phase...
Bow to me! Ahem.
I had made friends at camp too. From the Hermes Cabin, I've helped the Stoll brothers steal some goblets from dinner and fill them with gummy worms to leave in people's beds (unfortunately the goblets only do edible summons). I get along with Kassandri who has that type of humour everyone laughs along to- she's a daughter of Iris. Luke meanwhile seems to have taken me completely under his wing (he hovers like a mother hen, it's hilarious). Outside of the Hermes Cabin, I've actually made friends with Katie Gardener after I asked if they had any peppermint or basil seeds since I love growing them, and I've also made friends with, surprisingly, Drew Tanaka.
Drew's surprisingly lovely to talk to if a bit snobby on occasion. She was so offended at my wardrobe- by which I meant the lack thereof- that when I came into the Aphrodite Cabin to borrow a belt, I left with a whole new wardrobe. She's pretty much nothing like Canon implies, which I think has something to do with Piper's unreliable narrator viewpoint. We bonded over a similar love of couture fashion and she even compliments me on my 'soft' aesthetic. Apparently I have an aesthetic now, woohoo!
Speaking of which, where were these kinds of people my whole life? No, seriously, where were they?
I was already mostly fluent in Ancient Greek due to my past life's Bachelor in Classical Studies and this life's self-studying, so I was placed in an advanced class in the mornings with Annabeth. It went about as well as someone who was a forerunner in taking up Luke's time and attention can be.
Simply put, she tries to outdo me, I get offended and try to outdo her out of spite, and at the end of the day, we bicker like Zeus's Olympian children. Considering this includes Ares and Athena, that's a lot of bickering.
I loved being able to just read Sappho for a whole hour without anyone complaining though. It's a silver lining, but I'm definitely still pissed at Annabeth for not even trying to get to know me better.
The rest of the day I spent rotating through outdoor activities, looking for any hidden skills.
I'm apparently much better at archery than Canon Jackson with my ability to hit the target and all, but nowhere good enough for it to be my main weapon. If someone hands me a gun though, I'm a fuckmothering demon. Unfortunately, neither Luke nor Chiron seemed to trust me enough to let me use a gun as my main weapon if there are other options. Shame, I could've taken the world by storm. Who needs to get killed from up close when you can kill from far away?
Foot-racing was a disaster with the wood-nymph instructors left me in the dust. Arts and Crafts are fine if I'm left alone to sew and knit, but I can't paint or carve without making a mess. Music was terrible and I've been kindly informed I'm tone-deaf. Apparently the most I can do is rock-out on a drum kit, but nothing else.
Wrestling and hand-to-hand weren't the best. Luke had been personally teaching me how to do both since I don't like others touching me without my permission; though the point that in fights I had to learn not to panic when others touch me had been thoroughly stressed. Luke ruffles my hair whenever I land a hit on him, good or not, and I've got suspicions that he's trying to Pavlovian train me.
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."
Great, I thought. Let's all watch Percy get pounded. The Cabin Eleven kids gathered around. They were suppressing smiles. I figured they'd been in my shoes before and couldn't wait to see how Luke used me for a punching bag. He told everybody he was going to demonstrate a disarming technique: how to twist the enemy's blade with the flat of your own sword so that he had no choice but to drop his weapon.
"This is difficult," he stressed. "I've had it used against me. No laughing at Percy, now. Most swordsmen have to work years to master this technique."
Hey, isn't this? Oh shoot, this where Canon Jackson disarmed Luke! I can't do that- I can barely fight, and I have noodle arms!
He demonstrated the move on me in slow motion. Sure enough, the sword clattered out of my hand.
"Now in real-time," he said after I'd retrieved my weapon. "We keep sparring until one of us pulls it off. Ready, Percy?" I nodded, and Luke came after me.
I barely kept him from getting a shot at the hilt of my sword. My senses seemed to focus. I saw his attacks coming. I countered. I stepped forward and tried a thrust of my own. Luke deflected it easily, but I saw a change in his face. His eyes narrowed, though there was a hint of pride, and he started to press me with more force.
My arm was tiring. I knew it was only a matter of seconds before Luke took me down, so I figured, why the fuck not? I tried the disarming manoeuvre.
My blade hit the base of Luke's and I twisted, putting my whole weight into a downward thrust.
Clang!
Luke's sword rattled against the stones. The tip of my blade was an inch from his undefended chest.
I stared at my own blade. I just fucking did that. Holy fuck.
I wanted to pass out already.
The other campers were silent.
I dropped my own sword in panic and started squeaking out apologies.
For a moment, Luke was too stunned to speak.
Then he grabbed my arms to stop me from continuing my panic- making me flinch and go silent- and said, "Sorry? Percy, that was amazing! Can you do it again?"
His eyes were shining brilliantly and he was smiling like he was actually happy for once. His whole being seemed to brighten like the fucking sun or something- I could only nod dumbly.
Oh fuck. I like him. Not like like him- but I truly like him as a person, not just as a life I need to save or as my favourite fictional character. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm screwed.
I wasn't able to do the sword trick again. Maybe it was the fact that my Saltwater Power-up Level 3 timed out or maybe it was because I was internally freaking out. Whatever it was, I'll never know.
-
After my first sword lesson, I had just escaped the all-seeing eye of Sauron, also known as Luke, when Kassandri and Yasmine (who was unclaimed) had to be stopped from making flower crowns with poison ivy and taken to the infirmary. Ouch, who would even do that? Poor Luke has Tired Single Dad Energy™ and looked like he needed a fucking 24-hour nap.
I sat down by the lake with my 'Future Notes Notebook,' busy entering my newest page;
IDK What day it is but like,,, summer.
How to roofie Lucy: *Don't evaporate it, it needs to be liquid.
Put in soup and drinks at dinner. Give in drinks after dinner if during dinner's too suspicious. Evaporate and Condense into the mouth at night if there is no chance before bedtime.
If it's not liquid, he wakes up with night terrors. Made that mistake ONCE
If unable to put into mouth at night for whatever reason, evaporate TWO DROPS and administer through breathing.*
So I fucking,,,, caught plato feels. fuck.
Unfortunately, I'm affectionate and attached. This may be a Problem.
Ppl think i'm some Ravenclaw, bitch I wish I was Jared, 19.
My mind is chanting "You're not Immune to Propaganda!" whenever dummy thicc uwu Chiwon is around. Mood.
Sauron-Lucy-Lucifer has overheard me singing Hamilton and idk how to be That Bitch with the tiktok time travel meme. I said that it was some old poetry I know.
I have one brain cell, pray that I don't yeet myself into the void.
Signing off,
One (1) dumb bih
My notebook is the weirdest mix of Latin (*) and stale crack memes, all written in the Star Wars Aurebesh alphabet so that even if people read it, they wouldn't be able to understand a thing.
I was looking back on my notes on the Capture-The-Flag game that's supposed to be happening tomorrow when Grover approached me for the first time since I woke up at Camp.
We sat on the pier, watching the naiads perform the fine art of underwater basket-weaving until I worked up the nerve to ask Grover how his conversation had gone with Mr D.
He beamed. "Perfect!" he said. "It was great!"
"So your career's still on track?"
He glanced at me. "Chiron t-told you that I wanted a searcher's license?"
"Yeah, sorta."
He did not ask for clarification on that 'sorta.' "Mr D and the Council of Cloven Elders allowed me to get my searcher's license! They said I could start searching at the start of the new school year!"
The new school year. That meant he'd still be here when I returned from my quest! Oh thank goodness, I don't have to meddle too much to keep him from being eaten during the Sea of Monsters plot.
"That's great!" I drew him into a bear hug, beaming.
We talked about canoeing and swordplay for a while, then debated the pros and cons of the different gods. Finally, I asked him about the four empty cabins.
"Number eight, the silver one, belongs to Artemis," he said. "She vowed to be a maiden forever. So of course, no kids. The cabin is, you know, honorary. If she didn't have one, she'd be mad."
"Yeah, okay. But the other three, the ones at the end. Are those the Big Three?"
Grover tensed. We were getting close to a touchy subject.
"No. One of them, number two, is Hera's," he said. "That's another honorary thing. She's the goddess of marriage, so of course she wouldn't go around having affairs with mortals. That's her husband's job. When we say the Big Three, we mean the three powerful brothers, the sons of Kronos."
"Zeus, Poseidon, Hades."
"Right. You know. After the great battle with the Titans, they took over the world from their dad and drew lots to decide who got what."
"Zeus got the sky," I recited. "Poseidon the sea, Hades the Underworld."
"Uh-huh."
"Hades doesn't have a cabin here," I stated.
"No. He doesn't have a throne on Olympus, either. He sort of does his own thing down in the Underworld. If he did have a cabin here..." Grover shuddered. "Well, it wouldn't be pleasant. Let's leave it at that."
"But Zeus and Poseidon had many children. Why are their cabins empty?"
Grover shifted his hooves uncomfortably. "About sixty years ago, after World War II, the Big Three agreed they wouldn't sire any more heroes. Their children were just too powerful. They were affecting the course of human events too much, causing too much carnage. World War II, you know, was basically a fight between the sons of Zeus and Poseidon on one side and the sons of Hades on the other. The winning side, Zeus and Poseidon, made Hades swear an oath with them: no more affairs with mortal women. They all swore on the River Styx."
Thunder boomed.
"Have they kept their oath?" I asked.
Grover's face darkened. "Seventeen years ago, Zeus fell off the wagon. There was this TV starlet with a big fluffy eighties hairdo- he just couldn't help himself. When their child was born, a little girl named Thalia... Well, the River Styx is serious about promises. Zeus himself got off easy because he's immortal, but he brought a terrible fate on his daughter."
"It wasn't her fault for being born," I looked down at my notebook. "I didn't ask to be born," I whispered.
Grover hesitated. "Percy, children of the Big Three have powers greater than other half-bloods. They have a strong aura, a scent that attracts monsters. When Hades found out about the girl, he wasn't too happy about Zeus breaking his oath. Hades let the worst monsters out of Tartarus to torment Thalia. A satyr was assigned to be her keeper when she was twelve, but there was nothing he could do. He tried to escort her here with a couple of other half-bloods she'd befriended. They almost made it. They got all the way to the top of that hill."
He pointed across the valley, to the pine tree where I'd fought the minotaur.
"All three Kindly Ones were after them, along with a horde of hellhounds. They were about to be overrun when Thalia told her satyr to take the other two half-bloods to safety while she held off the monsters. She was wounded and tired, and she didn't want to live like a hunted animal. The satyr didn't want to leave her, but he couldn't change her mind, and he had to protect the others. So Thalia made her final stand alone, at the top of that hill. As she died, Zeus took pity on her. He turned her into that pine tree. Her spirit still helps protect the borders of the valley. That's why the hill is called Half-Blood Hill."
I stared at the pine in the distance.
'Don't worry, cousin. I'll free you,' I promised.
-
I watched Percy Jackson spar with Yasmine. Occasionally yelling instructions and encouragement from the sidelines, I observed the newest two Cabin Eleven campers. They were well matched, despite Yasmine having almost a year more of experience on Percy. She truly was a natural at this.
Percy Jackson was a bite-sized enigma that I was fond of. Possibly too fond.
She had appeared during a hurricane, and that seemed apt from her behaviour. She was a curious whirlwind that reminded him of when Annabeth was little, with a stubbornness that could outmatch even Thalia. She regularly did strange and almost impossible things that left everyone baffled.
When I had first carried her to the infirmary when she first arrived, I expected her to be the average camper. That didn't happen.
Percy has managed to turn my world on its head.
Annabeth was jealous of her, despite my insistence that she would always be my little sister and my family, and was acting almost cruelly. Percy didn't seem to mind, but I was still annoyed at the tension between them.
After Percy's meltdown, something in me seemed to grow in her direction. Perhaps it was the fact that she needed help from an adult, or maybe it was the way she reminded me of Thalia and Annabeth before Chiron, the gods, everything seemed to corrupt them. She was a drenched kitten; confused at everything, irritated easily, yet excitedly bouncing on her toes at the strangest of things.
I thought of her as a new little sister right up until the minute she beamed at me when she managed to hit me during hand-to-hand, and I looked back at her with pride. It felt like I had almost adopted her and was now her mentor.
Adopt... it seems like I have a child now.
I know a lot of campers see me as a father or big brother figure, and that I'm a way too tired camp counsellor running after danger-magnet children. A kid as chaotic as Percy would mean grey hairs before thirty. I know why Chiron puts us in bright orange t-shirts; we keep fucking wandering off to almost get murdered and he is a two-thousand-year-old stressed babysitter chugging coffee trying to keep us all alive.
But none of that occupied my mind for longer than a couple of seconds. No- I had something bigger to deal with.
My nightmares from Kronos have stopped.
The bastard had discarded me just like the gods did when I didn't complete his quest. After failing his quest, not even singular torture sessions served as punishment anymore- just continuous nightmares about Kronos torturing me. Soon after, one last order came through, then nothing. Not a single dream, not even a strange feeling to let me know he's still watching.
Compared to the past, my dreams have been almost blessedly empty.
I should have known, I'm a son of Hermes after all. He was only using me the whole time. I should've never trusted someone whose nickname is 'The Crooked One.'
"Luke!" Percy called, breaking me out of my thoughts.
She bounced up to me and- to my surprise- threw her arms around me in a hug. "Did you see? I did the disarming manoeuvre again!"
I chucked, ruffling her hair, "Good job, kiddo!"
She grinned at me again and ran off to rejoin her friends.
I'm not going to fail her as I did with Thalia, nor will I let Chiron and the gods influence her like a pawn as they have managed to do with Annabeth. This is my kid, and I'm not letting her be manipulated like I was. She will learn from my mistakes.
'No,' I thought as I watched her laugh, 'I won't let her turn out like me. She will be the opposite.