It's a lovely day at Camp Half-blood, birds are chirping, children are getting seriously maimed and injured and I'm stuck in a gross attic! Seriously, it smells like someone died in here! Well, not died but there was a dead body in here. Wish they lit scented candles or something. I'm not sure how the old Oracle could handle the stench! Well, she was dead so olfactory things probably weren't being used.
"Gods, this place is trashed" I muse to myself looking over the piles of boxes, trophies and other memorabilia from adventurers that only Chiron would probably care to remember.
"Fuckin Mr. D!" I mean geez! I don't know why it's always me that has to do this crap! Percy go get some lightning! Percy save a tree! Heck, save the universe and fisticuffs the planet while you're at it! Now the darn God has given me the worst quest yet, clean the nasty attic.
'Get rid of the stench up there Peter Lerman! There's some things I want and Mrs. Overdose's body stunk the place up. I refuse to taint my heavenly nose up there!' Conceited A-holes of a god aside it took a solid hour of dusting and three cans of air fresheners to make the scent bearable. I don't know why he called the old Oracle Mrs. Overdose though, maybe that's how she died? Geez kind of embarrassing.
Throwing the last can in a corner I make my way towards the door. As I'm turning I smack my foot into a something on the floor and dear Gods it must be made from sturdy stuff because holy crap it hurts! Giving myself a second to recover my totally unwounded pride and wipe the tear from my eye I look down at the little bastard-I mean inanimate object that has no feelings and see that my toe foe is actually a pretty sweet little foot chest.
Whipping some of the dust off I reveal that It's labelled 'Athena Cabin 1969'. Huh, pretty cool. Taking the chest in my arms I carry it with me down the stairs and outside as I make my way towards the Athena Cabin, I have a feeling a certain girlfriend of mine would like some help snooping through some probable dead people's belongings! I'm the best boyfriend!
'I swear I have the worst boyfriend.'Annabeth Chase concluded after listening to her 'genius' of a boyfriend's idea of snooping through a box of other people's belongings. At least, snooping without asking Chiron if it's okay to steal a box from the attic! Geez it's like he's asking for trouble. Well, he basically does but I know that if he just asks someone before he acts the world would be a much happier place.
My moral conclusions didn't stop me from helping Percy dig through the chest's contents though. We both got our own small piles, there was actually some pretty neat stuff in here. Some fancy watches, a few daggers, some old notebooks, an old pair of circle frame sunglasses and what looks to be a nice leather-bound textbook. 'There's the prize.' I think to myself, maybe the writer has some interesting things written down in here.
"Hey Percy!" I call to my boyfriend, "Come check this out with me!"
I don't get a response, I look over and see him nose deep in some old magazine. He notices me looking after a few moments with a blush on his cheeks. Curious.
"What's that you have?" It's an ask for most, for me It means 'give it'.
"Umm," comes his eloquent response "nothing?". That's unsure, he has something he shouldn't. I give him 'The Look' and he quickly hands it over looking at his feet bashfully.
I read the title of the magazine, "Hottest Bods, Olympus Summer edition 1963". Oh Percy, you stupid teenage boy. I flip through a couple pages, then I flip through some more. Wow. Demeter, that is NOT tasteful. I keep going through some more. Damn Hormones!
"Oh, Ares…" Holy crap he must be desperate with THAT as his photo shoot! I flip the page to the next set of photos.
"Mother!?".
After hiding the 'magazine' under my bed in the Athena cabin, I'm keeping it away from Percy shut up! I meet him outside my cabin again. Oh, Gods he looks like a puppy that knows it's in trouble, are his eyes watering? Shit. Um okay be encouraging, you're not mad!
"Let's go talk to Chiron." Nailed it.
I get a despondent 'okay' in return. Our trip back to the Big House was fun enough. Percy was practically radiating guilt behind me and I saw an 11-year-old with an arrow in his arm. Good for him. Unfortunately, we had to go with them since we're 'responsible adults' whatever those are.
Ugh, this kid won't stop crying either, he keeps mumbling something about 'mother' and 'the worst summer camp ever'. Pfft, what a baby. Most kids here are psychologically traumatized and can't cry anymore.
Anyways we finally meet Chiron at the big house after waiting a couple minutes for him to deal with a dying- I mean crying child.
"Annabeth, Percy." He greets us, "How can I help you?" Before I open my mouth, we hear a loud girlish scream from inside the Big House followed by joyous laughter. We all wince at that, Mr. D must've been the one to pull the arrow.
I clear my throat, "Chiron, Percy and myself found a chest in the attic, it was labelled for the Athena Cabin in 1969. I was wondering if you could tell us a bit about them? I've never heard anything about the previous generations of our cabins".
"Ah yes." he states, then looks out across the camp with a small smile. He looks almost, endearing. Like he's remembering the good old 'days. Well, he did for a second before his smile turned into a grimace. Uh oh. "That group."
"What would you like to know about them?" The enunciation of the word 'them' makes me just a little nervous.
"Well, um, could you tell me a bit about them? I've never talked with any significantly older camper so I'm curious about what they were like?" His frown gets deeper, this may not be going in a good direction.
"I'll be right back, child." He turns around back inside. Percy and I share a look. We both agree, this is a little awkward. We wait a few minutes before we hear clopping followed by a large series of thumps and crashes. We wait a little longer and Chiron opens the door. Geez he looks pretty fricking beat up. His face is bruised and he has a pretty nasty cut on his forehead. He limps forward a little bit and hands me a book.
"Here, this is for you. Your predecessor wished for it to be passed down to the Head-Councilors of your Cabin."
I take it a little hesitantly, "Shouldn't I have gotten this a while ago?".
"Probably yes, I most likely repressed the memory." He turns around and limps back inside. Huh, now I'm really curious. I open the book and flip through some of the pages.
"What is it?" Percy asks, looking over my shoulder at the book in my hands.
"It's a journal." I tell him. He motions to the steps and we sit down together. I flip to the first page and start reading aloud.
Man, let me tell you, being born is really weird. Now, usually you don't start forming memories you can remember into adulthood until you are significantly older than a couple minutes. I must've been a weird child since I had access to a full usable language at birth and general knowledge of things in life.
My mind was well mature beyond my body, no one seemed to notice however. I was very quiet when I was cleaned and passed over to something warm. I had no need to cry. When I tried saying hello to who must be my mom all I managed to get out was "hrajfascfnspcf.".
I think my father thought I was born retarded since his first words to me were, "This boy is fucking retarded!".
Ah so I am a boy, cool. Dear old dad, I love you even though you sound like an awful stereotype of a Shogun warrior which was funny since he was Japanese.
"What will his name be?" That must be my mother seeing as she was the one cradling me against herself and is the only other person in the room. I tried to look at her face, unfortunately with my underdeveloped eyes I couldn't make out anything solid features.
"Samson Akira. That will be his name."
Mother is quiet for a moment, "… Very well. I'm busy so it shall be." She passes me to my father and leaves I guess? I'm not sure what she did since there was a bright flashing light and I never heard any footsteps besides my fathers.
"Retarded one," he speaks to me, "I am Katsuhiro Akira. I am your father." I nod at him in respect, he nods back. I like him.
The date of my birth was June 5th 1947 and it was the day my father felt the happiest in his life. He would never dare to say out loud it though, but we both knew it was true. It's just a father-son thing. It's also the last time my father saw my mother again.
Mother was never around for my younger years. Whenever I asked my father about her all I got was, "I don't fucking know." A real charmer my father was. She was a subject my father never liked to speak about. I did learn when I was five that her name was Athena and apparently, she's a goddess. Huh, strange fact for a five-year-old to learn but hey, knowing is knowing. That's all he would talk to me about her though, we both knew she was a sore subject.
I did seem to take after father as we both had deep black hair and pale skin. Even as a boy it was easy to tell we were father and son. I've seen some old pictures of father when he was my age. The resemblance was uncanny. The real difference between us was in our eyes however. Where father dark eyes that almost seemed black mine were a startling light grey. They almost looked like they were glowing, even in the dark. My bright eyes and dark hair often startled our neighbors when they look directly into my eyes.
As I grew in the years I learned a bit more about father. For one he was an avid gardener. He must've liked it quite a bit since most of his free time was spent outside growing all kinds of pretty flowers. I'm not really sure what my father did for money since I never saw him leaving the house except to take me to stores around our small town in Virginia. He also had a pretty wicked collection of artifacts that I guessed to be from his home country; there were many kinds of swords and a sweet set of armor that we really couldn't figure out were to place.
He was also a very direct man and apparently hated other Japanese people. I know this since when I asked him why he never taught me about his homeland or language all he told me was, "I hate the Japanese, you will be a good American and be better."
I never argued and obeyed since father was never wrong and very smart. Father knew best.
My few years of school was never the best time for me unfortunately. I did wonderful in terms of the academics. Heck, I was actually bumped up several years since I never scored wrong on any test sheet or work assignment. It was easy for me since I never actually forgot anything I learned. I've heard my teachers mention words like 'prodigy' and 'genius' when talking with my father about me. I guess it was a compliment since many mentioned me being 'useful to the Big Man' when I grew up.
I never did like my peers though, when I was around my teachers I could feel their anger and disgust when they met with my grey eyes. I hated it. Thankfully I could also feel their jealousy. That feeling pleased me however.
Eventually my father decided I should be taught by himself personally. I guess my black-eyes received to given ratio had him worried since I never fought back against my tormentors. Violence was never something I enjoyed especially since I could feel the pain of others around me. I later learned this was an ability called empathy in my science fiction novels I was fond of reading.
Father did purchase a cat to act as a companion for me in my youth. He said it was to be my friend since he refused to be mine. I never told him how much it hurt that he had said that but I understood his reasons, my powers allowed me to realize that so I got over it quickly.
I did 'experiment' a little on Ailuro, he was the cat, with my powers when I was around seven years-old. I read many science-fiction novels and often time characters had the ability to move things with their minds or other such abilities. Being a small child, I wanted to see if I had the same capabilities. As it turns out I did. After months of practice I decided to show my father my abilities by levitate the cat with my blankets over it to scare him. With my dastardly plan set in place I put it into motion the following morning when he was distracted making breakfast. Waiting for my father to have his back turned at the kitchen counter I quickly levitated my makeshift ghost behind father and called for him.
He turned around and went wide eyed at the flailing blanket, the cat hated being levitated. Father was silent for a few moments before screaming,
"くだらないゴースト!" in a language I did not know and roundhouse kicked my cat and the blanket into the wall. He has a pretty good kick since the cat hit the wall hard enough to crack the wood. Good times. Unfortunately, my cat died on impact.
After having me swear not to use my powers in public he took me to a fancy diner as a way of saying sorry for killing my best friend. I asked for another pet instead but he just said "Remember the cat.". I decided a diner was a better choice.
The diner we went to was very nice, especially since the only person there was some lady in an oversized jacket wearing sunglasses trying not to look suspicious.
Father and I were instantly suspicious.
She never did anything though which I was happy about. Usually people got angry at father when we went into public and tried to hurt him. Thankfully father knew tons of fancy ways of moving to counter his attackers. When I asked my father about it he said that it was,
"Wing Chun, the only good thing to come from China."
I didn't know who China was but they sound like my father's worst enemy so I shall hate them as well.
After we ordered our food from the nice waitress I was silent as we waited. I wanted to ask father a few questions about my mother but I was very nervous so I stayed silent. Father must've known what I wished to say since he broke the silence between us.
"Speak, little retard. You may ask." It was an order, between us no question was to be unasked and unanswered.
"Father," my voice was quiet "what was mother to you? Why was I born?"
He was silent for a moment, looking in his dark eyes I knew he was thinking of the right words to say. Which ones would be correct and wise.
His response was quick and sure "She was a quick fuck and you were an accident.". Ah, dear old dad. All love and no tact. The lady in the booth behind us coughed quite loudly before having a nasty fit. I think she choked on the cola she was drinking.
We both looked at her as she was coughing but made no attempts to help. She was very red faced and shaking with what I guessed was anger. I couldn't actually feel her emotions; her presence was very empty and that was disconcerting. She got up and hurriedly left the restaurant, the teenage waitress following suit shouting about her bill.
Over the next following months, I found joy walking through the forest behind our house. The forest was quiet and calming since I couldn't feel the hate of other people, no one but myself ever went there. As I was leaving through our side yard I noticed father sitting in the middle of his garden like some kind of sentry. I've seen him do this many times before but this time was different since he was donned in his antique Samurai armor looking out into the tree line. Now father is a bizarre man but his armor has never left its place in our home as a fancy coat-rack so something special must be happening.
"Father?" I ask as I approach him. He motions for me to sit next to him. As I do he points towards the trees he's looking at. "There, my son. In the branches tell me, what do you see?" I look towards the tree branches but I don't see anything.
"Look deeper. Focus with your mind." As I train my eyes back to the tree branches I notice strange shapes through the shadows. "Owls." I say as I realize what they are. There must be hundreds of them covering every branch along most of the trees. Their eyes are unblinking and focused on my father. This does not feel right.
"Yes, they are Owls and they are RUINING MY FUCKING GARDEN!" he screams loudly at the owls. A couple of the Owls flutter in surprise and I jump as I've never heard father raise his voice so loudly or with such anger.
I'm a little shaky as I rise to my feet. As I do father hands me something long wrapped in a fancy length of fabric. "For you son, it is a gift left to you from your mother." I clutch it tightly to my chest. I can feel tears threatening my eyes, something bad will happen. Father knows this, I can feel his emotions.
"Continue your walk son, return when the sun has fallen and the moon is high." I nod once and walk towards a patch of trees where there are no owls. My heart is beating fast and fear is consuming my emotions. When I reach the place where fathers garden meets the trees I turn around one last time. His dark eyes filled with determination meet my scared grey eyes. Even though no words passed our lips we had an understanding not many can find even with words.
I love you was the meaning we found in one another's eyes. I turn and continue my trip into the forest, disappearing into the shadows as my father draws his sword at his hip.
I am unsure for how long I walked, the forest felt hollow and so did my heart. I knew what had happened at home but I will obey what father wished. I was to return when the moon was high in the sky. As I looked up I could see that cursed orb in the sky through a clearing in the branches. It was time.
As I made my way back home and into father's garden I knew that my feelings were correct. I sat down next to my father's corpse as I wept openly and loudly, holding onto his form shaking him just a little. His throat must've been torn open by the horrible talons of those horrible birds! My only peace was the knowledge that father fought proudly and fiercely. His now ruined garden is filled with the mangled remains of dozens of the wretched owls. I smile to myself through my sadness. Good, they deserved horror of my father's fury!
I lie over my father's body for a long while, I just can't let go. Father knew best, I know nothing. Even a genius seven-year-old is only seven! I'm so scared, the world is awful and the people that populate it are even worse. I just don't know what I should do! I'm lost now, and my fear keeps me here.
Eventually I feel a presence approach be from behind, it is quiet and steady. It must be a stealth attack! Some stranger has come to take me from my home, from father! I remain still, pretending to sleep. The stranger puts a hand on my shoulder and that's when I use the training father taught me! If some stranger touches you, scream loudly to confuse them and attack! They are vulnerable in their panic!
As his hand touches me I spin around screaming "SEXUAL ATTACKER" and punch in the area of what I assume to be their crotch. I've heard from some of the wives of our neighbors that it is a great weakness in humans. Unfortunately, my foe is quick and dodges my attack. I give them no time to recollect as I unsheathe the sword hidden in the wrappings father had given me and charge the brigand with my sword raised above my head proudly screaming like an angry housewife!
My foe cries in surprise in a high girlish pitch. They must be a lady! I give chase as the hairy lady scrambles on top of fathers gardening shed. Damn my tiny legs, I can't climb that high! I hear the villain scream about 'helping me' and 'not a monster'. I don't listen and decide to chop the roof around their feet. My foe cries.
Good, fear me I am the hunter!
After a few minutes of chopping and hysterical crying from my enemy I start to slow down. My body is tired and my mind is exhausted. When my arms fall to my sides the hairy lady speaks to me from their safety perch.
"Please little boy," Okay so they are actually a man. "I'm here to help you! I can take you somewhere safe, a new home." They speak the truth, I can feel their emotions.
They drop from the shed and gently pry the sword from my limp grip. They aren't human now that I focus on them. They possess the legs of a goat in place of a normal man legs. Two nubs that I assume to be small horns sprout from the curly hair on either side of their head.
The kind stranger takes me onto their back and carries me out of father's garden and away from my only home. The weight of all that's happened finally crashes onto my shoulders as the adrenaline wears of and my sadness takes root in my heart. I am unsure where we are going but now I don't care. He promised me a new home and that's where I want to be now. I close my eyes and cry softly. Father is dead and I am not. I try and find solace in this. Unfortunately, I cannot. Thankfully sleep arrives and the darkness it brings give me slight comfort.
