So, this is a part of Chapter 2. Recently, a person has told me that I need to think more like the characters since I make it too serious. I hope Clovis' POV won't be that serious. I might rewrite chapter 1 and start over again.

Please let me know if this is better.

Once again, I do not own the characters. Rick Riordan does.

Clovis' POV:

Yawn.

Sorry. Am I about to doze off again?

It's just too hard to stay awake sometimes being a son of Hypnos, god of sleep. My cabin doesn't help either. It just has the most hypnotic effect and zzzzz…

I feel alive once again as I see darkness swirl. Visions and memories and dreams dance around me. Colors splash around. I transcend space and time. I am a master of dreams. My father's awesome sleep powers protect me.

I can't move.

Huh? This has never happened before. I can't move. This is ridiculous. Being the son of Hypnos, I am a lucid dreamer. I can control my dreams.

I feel myself falling and falling into darkness.

The worst part? I couldn't do anything to stop it.

I try to flail but my arms won't obey. I try to close my eyes but it won't close. My nose however has it the worst. If you ever thought rotten eggs smell bad, think again. This is a million times worse.

I reach the bottom and see glass shards all around me. A river of lava flows into a black mansion which looks strangely familiar. Jagged rocks jut out from weird places. Everything looks peacefully chaotic.

I fit perfectly with the jagged rocks-immobile and ugly and useless.

Monsters reform here and there and I know I must be inside Tartarus, the deepest and darkest chasm of the underworld: A one way trip to death and worse.

I gulp at the thought. I am glad that no one notices me.

I hear a BOOMING sound when everything starts to shake.

"Wake up," someone screams at my face. He is shaking me.

He groans. "Stupid sons of Hypnos. Why was I even called to wake him up?"

His deep gravelly voice alone allowed me to identify him.

It's Butch, son of Iris. I have half a mind to make him fall asleep just to satisfy myself.

It's not fun having 20 colored pencils sticking up your nose you know?

I pretend to be asleep until I'm certain he stomps away. I stand up and walk out of my hypnotic cabin.

Sunlight streams into my face. Campers rush about here and there. Why are they busy? I have no idea.

I bump into Annabeth. I guess she's the next person sent to call me because she drags me without a word towards the Big House.

I don't usually go to the Big House since I like to sleep in my cabin most of the time but every time I see it, I feel a sense of fear. Going to the Big House is like going to the Principal's office, warm and cozy- looking outside an underlying reign of fear and terror. I mean, it's not all that bad but going to the Big House usually means there's a problem and I really, really hate to solve problems.

I enter against my will only to see three other people. They sit by the table tennis table discussing something. Chiron looks us and beckons me to join.

"Clovis, it seems you are needed in a quest." Chiron says.

My eyes go wide at the thought. "Wha… why?"

Frank turns to me in a half smile and half grimace. "Iris is in trouble and Butch, you and I will have to go save her."

"Do I have to go?" I yawn.

Butch interrupts. "Do you think we want you to go? Of course you have to go. It's stated in the prophecy."

My eyes widen once again. "Wait, how could there be a prophecy? I thought Rachel couldn't see anything anymore unless Apollo gains the power of Delphi from Python?"

Chiron shakes his head chuckling. "My boy, Rachel already gained the power of Delphi after Will Solace, Nico Di Angelo, and Thalia Grace were sent to retrieve it."

Do I really sleep that much to not know any current events anymore?

I glance sheepishly before I ask. "May I hear the prophecy?"

"Butch, if you would." Chiron urges him.

Butch looks at everyone, takes a deep breath and recites.

You shall venture the land of dreams

And thwart the goddess' schemes

Son of Hypnos' visions shall guide

Yet drown by his excess pride

Beware, son of Rome, of your kings

Fail to rise without the fallen's wings