Daniel Really Isn't Excited… For Anything

Daniel

It was an awkward looking cabin, Daniel thought. It was made of thick oak logs, painted white, with a glass door that anyone could see through. At the base of the cabin and on either side of the door, there were two sculptures made of scrap metal, meant, Daniel assumed, to resemble gusts of wind.

In reality, they just looked like oversized cheese graters.

"Well, at least we're finally out of the Hermes cabin, right?"

The voice was quiet and feminine, and belonged to a small blonde girl with eyes the color of the azure sky. She was no older than thirteen, and was clutching a purple backpack to her chest, as she looked up at another camper, with the same colored eyes.

His hair was a deep onyx, and he was tall and lanky, with dark tanned skin. Like Lucile, and Daniel himself, his eyes mirrored the color of the sky above. In his simple Camp Half-Blood shirt, he looked rather unassuming. Behind him were a few duffel bags, packed with all his belongings from the Hermes Cabin the three of them had shared until recently.

"Yeah, and look on the brightside Lucile, it'll just be the three of us this time. We don't have to deal with all those Hermes kids anymore."

Gregory, that was the other boy's name, made a really good point. Daniel had spent the last four years in the Hermes cabin, and while the Hermes campers themselves were fun, they were also prone to doing stupid things to the other campers, which of course, would result in retaliation. At the moment, the Hermes cabin was riddled with over a hundred arrows, all enchanted to make the most annoying noises at completely random times. Like "mooing" at midnight, or making a farting noise in the middle of a serious conversation.

And that was why Daniel would never, ever, help prank the Apollo or Hecate campers again.

Honestly, the three of them had gotten out of the Hermes cabin at the best time. The newly built Boreas cabin might not have been the prettiest thing in the world, but it was a home. After four years, Daniel finally had a place in Camp Half-Blood where he could honestly say he belonged.

He only wished the responsibility of being head counselor hadn't come along with it. Unfortunately, at sixteen, he was the oldest child of Boreas, God of the Northern Winds, and that meant that Greg and Lucile were now his responsibility, rather than the Stoll's.

"Alright campers," Dan finally spoke, "we've only got a little bit of time before the Romans get here, so let's get unpacked and head over to the amphitheater. Jason wants everyone there so he can go over the ground rules for their visit."

"Why do we need to be there?" Gregory asked with a frown, "they've visited plenty of times before, and we've never screwed anything up."

Dan opened the glass door to Cabin Twenty-One, and turned back to his younger brother, "I think it's just a precaution. We don't want another fight between the Ares cabin and the Third Cohort, or anything similar."

"I still feel bad for the satyrs that got caught in the crossfire," Gregory muttered, "it took weeks for their fur to grow back.."

Dan chuckled a little, and threw his bags on one of the four beds that lined the back wall. He unzipped the largest bag, a duffel like one of Gregory's, and began to pull out his jeans. He picked up the new pile of denim, and turned to set them on the dresser at the foot of his new bed.

That's when he saw Lucile, fiddling with her fingers, her nervous tick. She was sat on the bed in the far left corner, with her brows furrowed.

"Lucile," Dan said, and she turned to face him, "what is it?"

She looked back down at her fingers, "um, are the Romans mean?"

Dan and Gregory turned to look at each other and grimaced. Lucile had only been at Camp Half-Blood for a week; she'd arrived at the start of Winter break with most of the campers. Which meant that, unlike Dan and Greg, who'd been around for years, she'd never actually met (or almost went to war with) the Romans. And here they were making jokes about how they injured people.

Dan was the first to speak, "I wouldn't say they're mean. They're just… a lot more strict than us Greeks, and a bit more prideful as well. But you don't have to worry about them."

"Yeah," Gregory chimed in, "just… you know how we told you to act around the Ares campers? Just act like that, and everything will be just fine."

Lucile didn't look entirely convinced, but she went back to unpacking, which was a step in the right direction. Daniel lifted an eyebrow as she pulled out a pink blanket, one he hadn't seen before. He opened his mouth to rib her a bit, but managed to stop himself before he could actually say anything. She was clearly still anxious about the Romans. Now wasn't the best time to tease her.

Daniel finished packing his things into the dresser near his bed, which, much to his surprise, was bigger on the inside than it was on the outside. Though, Dan knew it really shouldn't have surprised him at all; he had a backpack that did the same thing. Still, it was nice to know that Malcolm over in the Athena cabin had the forethought to think of such a useful trick. The cabin was no Annabeth masterpiece, but the guy had definitely forged something worthy of being called home.

Dan had just finished brushing his brown hair in the mirror, when Greg tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to face his brother, who motioned at the door. It seemed his siblings were outpacing him; they were already ready to head to the amphitheater.

"Go ahead, I'll meet you guys there."

Greg just shrugged, and walked out the glass door. Once he was out of earshot, Daniel let out a pathetic groan. He didn't want to look unenthusiatic in front of his siblings, but Dan was in no way excited for the Roman's arrival. Having the Romans in the camp meant that there would be competitions, and a lot of them. Dan already knew that tonight the Greek campers would take on the Twelfth Legion in a game of Capture the Flag, and as a senior camper and (by his own standards) a competent swordsman, he'd be expected to join in.

Dan hated War Games. They were too much work.

And maybe, just maybe, they reminded him too much of The Battle of Manhattan.

With a sigh, Daniel grabbed his grey hoodie out of the dresser, and threw it on over his orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt, before zipping it up. The magical boundaries around the camp might keep the snow from falling, but it didn't keep the cold air out. Next, knowing the looks he'd get if he didn't bring a weapon, Dan reached into his black backpack. He had to dig around in it for a second, as the dimensions on the inside were four times that of a normal backpack, but after his hand found its grip on the leather, Daniel pulled his weapon out of the "hammer space," as the Hephaestus kids called it.

The blade, like the backpack, had been forged by the Hephaestus cabin. He'd requested it specially made, as it wasn't a typical Greek or Roman weapon. The sword itself weighed roughly four pounds, with a celestial bronze blade of a width one and three-fourths of an inch, that tapered down to one and one-fourth of an inch, while being thirty five inches in length. The hilt was crafted from oak wood, and wrapped in black leather, and was molded to fit two hands.

The sword, which Dan had taken to calling Kidemónas (Guardian) in private, was effectively a Thirteenth Century hand-and-a-half sword, forged to be fit for a demigod. Wearing the blade on his back (no, he wasn't about to stab himself in the shoulder, he'd been training for years) always managed to garner a few odd looks, which Daniel never understood. There were campers who used things like grappling hooks and rakes for weapons! His sword wasn't that out of place!

Unless it was being judged by Roman standards, in which anything that wasn't uniform was out of the ordinary. Dan knew more than one legionnaire would likely scowl at his blade. Just another thing he wasn't excited for.

With one final sigh, Daniel brought the sheath over his right shoulder, and tightened the black strap. He needed to get going; it wouldn't look good for him if he managed to be late to his first ever gathering as a head counselor. Connor and Travis would never let him live it down, and he feared the look he might get from campers like Annabeth and Sherman. That was enough to get his butt in gear. The next few days might suck, but they were sure to suck worse if he pissed off his fellow head counselors.

He took one last look at himself in the mirror, before pushing out the door.