A/N: Hello Readers! Time for the Disclaimer!
Me: Who's going to do it? *Drumroll*
Leo: Pick me! Pick me!
Me: Ok!
Leo: The Author does not own anything, especially not the Supreme Commander of the Argo II! My friends and I are owned by Rick Riordan. The Wizarding World is owned by J.K Rowling.
Me: On to the story!
***Harry's P.O.V***
Hermione, Ron and I were relaxing in the common room in front of the fire, quietly discussing our first training session. Our weapons had been kept in the Room of Requirement while we were still beginners, so we couldn't skewer each other in the corridors.
Smart idea really.
***Nico's P.O.V***
I yawned as the Room provided me with another piece of paper to write on. "So, Ginny Weasley - that's the ginger girl in Gryffindor - is a strong fighter."
"Luna Lovegood was certainly different."
"How so?"
"Very unpredictable. Occasionally used words to confuse her enemies."
"Interesting..." The conversation went on, until we were both half asleep and struggling to stay that way.
"Neeks?"
"Mhmm?"
"You should get some sleep."
"Just because I should doesn't mean I will."
"Neeks!"
"Don't call me Neeks."
"Shut up, I know you secretly like it." He playfully ruffled my hair as I blushed. "But seriously, get some sleep. You look dead on your feet."
"I am Death."
"Doesn't mean you have to look like it. Now sleep. We can work on this in the morning."
"Fine." I turned over onto my side and closed my ideas, ignoring Will's blatant smirking. I could hear him humming softly as he packed away scattered pencils and pieces of paper. (Because who uses quills anymore, let alone parchment? Wizards were a weird bunch of mortals.) "Will, are you humming the theme tune of Mario Cart?" I questioned, keeping my eyes closed.
"...maybe?"
"You're a dork Solace."
"You love me for it though." I heard him laugh as he flopped down next to me, warmth emitting from him. What is the deal with Apollo campers being like a mini sun. All. The. Time. I wasn't complaining though. He put an arm around my waist and I shuffled closer to him as we both fell asleep.
***Narrator (That's Me!) P.O.V***
Little did the two demigods know, things were about to get a lot more complicated...
Unbeknownst to them, a figure watched in the shadows, a cruel smile adorning their face. Their eyes flashed red in the darkness, a splash of colour against their camouflage.
***Unknown P.O.V***
I could feel my eyes flicker with power as I watched my next victims, alone and cold in the night. After taking a quick glance at their so called 'battle plans' I left, holding the wand in my hand languidly. The magic in this was so weak, so mediocre compared to my own. Hecate was a fool to bless these simple mortals. Slipping a hand into my black robe, I pulled out a glass jar.
It had tendrils of celestial bronze wrapped around it, and inside was a silvery blue light. Occasionally, it would chill, and the temperature around it would drop. I almost laughed at how weak my prisoner had become. My eyes flashed again as I looked onto the godly form. No point wasting another host, they come in short supply in this day and age. Even if I could hear their screams in the back of my skull.
They'll find out who you are!
Who will? I am too crafty and wise for that.
Everyone!
What, those little demigods? Or how about your friends? They can't foil me, my plan is brilliant and- hey! I can feel that eye roll you're giving me!
Well I'm sorry, what else am I supposed to do? You've taken over my body and pretty much my mind. You've got the emotional range of a teaspoon!
Oh, I see. You think the readers will discover me. Yes, I see how it is...
Well then. The game is afoot.
A/N: Thanks for reading this chapter! I hope you enjoyed this! So...
I got tagged.
1) Satan666Demon
2)Cancer
3)Minecraft.
4) Favourite song at the moment is Friends on the Other Side (A Disney Villian Mashup) by Thomas Sanders. Favourite Artist is Imagine Dragons. Or Fall Out Boy.
5)You guys are amazing and I love looking at where you guys come from on my demographic map!
6)I...do not have one. But my favourite poet is E.H. (I will put one of their poems somewhere below)
7)Did you know that you will walk past an average of 16 murderers in your lifetime?
8)
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Question of the Chapter: Who do you think is Unknown?
Now here is a poem by E.H:
You can write for hours on hours
Of all the things that you wish you could be
But the truth of the matter is simple
People are not poetry
And I know that you wish you weren't awkward
That sweet words could roll right off your tongue
But your time here to short just to worry
How each single sentence is strung
It's okay to be rough round the edges
To be bruised up and broken and scarred
But it's not okay to let people tell you
There's a reason to change who you are
Your hair doesn't always sit nearly
The way a poem sits so neatly in lines
And sometimes you might feel like a word
That nobody has learnt to define
You might not be a star that lights darkness
Or a bird that can teach us to soar
But it's okay because you are too complex
To be crammed into one metaphor
It's okay to not know what you're doing
Since your feelings don't all have to rhyme
Though a poem once complete is eternal
You have the freedom to change over time
You are much more than can ever be written
There is no title to say "This is Me!"
You can't be trapped between the lines of a notebook
Because people are not poetry
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Until next time,
~HouserOfStories