Lazarus

She stares at me, her emerald eyes fierce narrowed. She bends low in her battle stance, her hands gripped tightly around the ebony staff of her scythe. I watch her ruffled auburn hair fly in the air around her face as she prepares to attack.

I pause time in my mind and thank the Titans for my short, black hair that doesn't fly-in-the-air-around-my-face during a fight.

But then time starts again. One moment she's there, standing thirty feet away from me on the dry, crusted ground. And the next she's flying across the gap between us, her scythe pulled back and ready. I only have a second to react, and I throw my arm up in defense. Her weapon sweeps through the stuffed air, and burrows into my shield. I feel the nerves in my shoulder light on fire at impact.

I smile. This will be fun.

Then I'm pushing my shield aside along with her scythe and thrusting my arm forward at her bare midsection. Her instincts kick in and she flies backward before my sword can reach her. Now I'm running at her and she's putting the staff of her weapon up in defense. Mad adrenaline courses through my veins. I find myself screaming as I slam the front of my shield into her weapon, knocking her back onto the ground. She grunts.

"You done yet?" I say with a smirk. Her lips curl into a wicked smile.

"Not even close."

"Good."

And my eyes go wild as the adrenaline kicks in again. She scrambles back to her and races toward me again. I put up my shield for the second time, but her body goes low and she brings her foot around behind my legs. I fall to the ground with a groan as the dust flies up and scrapes at my throat and eyes.

That went way too quick.

It wasn't fun at all.

"Are you done yet?" she questions as she points the scythe down at me.

"You know the rules, Sasha. There's only one way to end this."

"Yes, I do," she sighs and raises her weapon high into the air as the approving shouts erupt from the outskirts of the Arena.

"Finish him!" our audience yells in animalistic union.

She brings the curved blade across my arm, tearing through the rags and into the skin. I clench my jaw as white hot pain erupts just below my shoulder. The small crowd erupts at the sight of the warm liquid falling down my arm and mixing with the crusted ground. They clap and jeer and laugh and I just lay there, with Sasha towering over me. Her twin brothers appear behind her.

Zach and Elric slam their rather large hands down on the shoulders of their little sister and both gleam at her with a toothy grin. She smiles back at them, her right eye twitching from the pain.

"Good job, sis," Elric says. The only way I can tell him apart from his brother is the scar traveling across his right eye and ending right above his cheekbone. His brother has an identical scar, though it travels across the left eye. Other than that, the two could be the same person. They both stand tall, with bald heads, gleaming blue eyes, and thin mouths. With their huge arms and broad shoulders, it'd be easy to get them confused with a child of Atlas. In fact, up until the Signature of Kronos was carved into their backs, they stayed in the Atlas Territory.

I stand, holding my arm to stop the bleeding. My own siblings stay back in the crowd, their eyes digging into me with disappointment. I feel the weight of their anger on my bad arm, and stare at the ground in shame.

"Hey."

I look up, and see Sasha staring back at me. Zach and Elric are back in the crowd, having a Who- Can-Flex-Their-Muscles-Longer? match with an Atlas girl again.

"It was a good fight. You're not bad for a Hot-Head. You would've defiantly beaten me if I was blinded and had only one leg."

"Thanks, Sasha," I say dryly.

Her eyes soften and she smiles sympathetically. "You'd better get some Hell-Fireinto you. I cut you a little deep."

Hell-Fire comes from the Phlethegon River that runs parallel to the Styx. The thing is literally a "river of fire", which you really have to see to believe. It, along with the Styx, Acheron, Lethe, and Cocytus are the five rivers of the Underworld.

Only children of Hyperion (such as myself) and his other son, Helios, can handle Hell-Fire, considering our fathers are practically made out of flames. In fact, the stuff is actually good for us, and acts like ambrosia does for the revolting Half-Bloods. The rest of the True-Bloods must bargain with Charon, the Ferryman of the Acheron, in order to get water from the river. Acheron wateris their version of Hell-Fire and Ambrosia.

"I personally think you didn't cut deep enough."

A tall, slender girl, with short, jet black hair, and thickly rimmed glasses appears next to us. She stares at me disapprovingly. "For such a mighty Titan, Hyperion sure did have some weakling children. But it's not your fault, Lazarus. I had a feeling that Sasha here would win."

"Shut up, Margie." I scowl and look back at Sasha. "See ya'." And I turn to walk out of the Arena.

"Wait a second, Lazarus," comes Margie's sharp voice behind me. "Father sent me to get you."

"Tell your dad I'm going to get some Hell-Fire, and then I'm going back to my Territory."

"You'd dare postpone a meeting with the overseer of Camp?"

"Really, Margie. At the moment, I could care less."

"But you're going to want to go see him. Both of you." she calls.

"I'll do it later," I say.

"Same here," Sasha replies, And I hear her scythe dragging against the ground as she walks away.

"He found Jackson."

I turn, my eyes wide. "What did you say?"

"Dude, you're glowing," Margie replies.

I look down and see my tan skin turning a bright yellowish color. Just like the sun. I feel warm, as though I've been put into an oven and someone's slowing turning up the temperature. But at the moment, I don't care. "What did you just say, Margie?" I walk back toward her, my mind swirling along with the continuously thundering skies above. "Your father found Jackson… Percy Jackson?"

"Where?" Sasha demands. "Where is Percy Jackson?"

Margie backs away, putting her palms up in defense. "Woah, woah. Calm down, you two. What's so important about this Jackson guy in the first place?" I feel my glow become fiercer as I stand there.

Percy Jackson.

I look at Sasha, and I can see the rage taking over in her mind, too. She clenches her scythe as though she's going to attack some invisible enemy.

"Where's your dad?"

"He's over by the Cyclopes Territory having some kind of emergency meeting. He says to go to his office. He'll meet you there when he's done. Now who's Percy Jackson?"

"Let's go, Lazarus," Sasha says darkly.

"You think her dad really found him?

Her voice grows lower. "I don't know."

"We should still go."

"Yea. Go get some Hell-Fire, and I'll meet you at his office."

"Can someone please tell me why you care about this Jackson so much?" Margie practically screams.

I turn around as we walk away from her, literally leaving Margie "in the dust".

"We have to find Percy Jackson."

"But why?" Her dad being who he is, it should be surprising that she hasn't already though of the reason already. But my minds too busy on other things; other people.

Percy Jackson.

"Because…" I turn my back to her again, picking up my pace and clutching my arm until my knuckles go white. "…we have to rip him limp from limb…," Sasha continues my sentence, stomping her feet into the ground as she walks.

"…then throw his soul into the Phlethegon River, to burn in Hell-Fire for the rest of eternity," I growl.