A/N: since a reviewer told me they were confused as to which Will this story is about, I'd like to confirm that this story stars Will Treaty as the protagonist, not Will Solace. I tried to drop hints- No-Name is the nickname Horace taunted Will by in book one, for instance- but since both Will's are sons of Apollo, I can see why it's confusing. In order to make it a little less confusing, I'll say that I have no plans to have any characters of Percy Jackson make appearances except the gods, the monsters, and a few immortals like Chiron. None of the demigods or mortals of Percy Jackson are going to appear.
Now that that's been said, please enjoy this chapter!
Since Will had now been assigned to the Apollo cabin, the entire rest of the day was completely different. Instead of tactics with Hermes and Athena Will was to go to arts and crafts with the Apollo, Demeter, Tyche, and Hebe cabins. Will had no idea what arts and crafts had to do with survival, but everyone else seemed to think it a normal occurrence. Will's new cabinmates were welcoming, if a bit hesitant to completely accept him.
Will was used to being alone. He'd been alone by choice during his stay at the orphanage, and once he'd run away had been alone by necessity. Will found solace in solitude; it was the one thing he knew more than anything else. Alone meant safe. Alone meant no one could hurt him. So he didn't feel hurt when none of his siblings went out of their way to include him. It wasn't that they disliked him; they simply didn't care.
As days passed, Will began to grow closer and closer to Ferris. A few others were tolerably nice to Will- Alyss, the nice girl who'd shown him to the stables his first day; George, her half brother; and Jenny, a daughter of Hebe with a love for cooking. Even though they were at least a little better than the others, Will still felt lonely. The only person who made him feel at all better was Ferris.
Ferris was always there. Always. At first it weirded Will out. Surely it wasn't normal for one person to always be watching him, be talking to him, be doing something to him in some way? But he shoved those thoughts away. Six years of near-solitude had screwed with Will's mind. It was normal for someone to be with you the entire day or as much as possible. It was normal for that person to taunt you whenever you showed fear- even if it was something legitimately frightening. Ferris didn't mean it that way, after all. It was normal for that person to tell you those fears, any fears, were insignificant, and later that his opinion always mattered most.
It was. It was normal.
Wasn't it?
A week and a half went by. Will learned archery beside Ferris. He burned himself on the climbing wall and refused to go to Chiron (Ferris wasn't happy). They played capture the flag; Ferris was on the other team. He warned Will not to mess with the other side or he'd get mad.
Will obeyed.
The rest of the Apollo cabin wouldn't speak to him for a day.
He talked to Alyss, George, and Jenny. They told him it was hard to settle in sometimes; that it might take him a few weeks, but he'd become part of the group eventually. That night, Will sat on the shore at Long Island Sound with his knees pulled up to his chest. He stared out into the distance and wondered if they truly meant what they'd said or if they just pitied him.
Ferris didn't follow him there.
It wasn't all bad, of course. A few of the Apollo kids warmed up to Will after a week or so, enough to offer to teach him how to play the guitar. Will eagerly accepted. He proved to be a quick learner despite the stabbing pain in his fingers from the guitar frets; turned out, most Apollo kids were naturally skilled with at least one instrument. After two weeks, the kid who owned the guitar offered to give it to Will for free- according to him, his mom was rich and would replace it immediately. Will was so touched by the boy's kindness he almost cried.
Jenny brought her own comfort in the form of food. As a daughter of Hebe, she had a special way about her that made everyone automatically like her- not quite like the Aphrodite kids, but something similar. Generally the food Harpies wouldn't ever let anyone in their precious kitchens, but Jenny had proven her worth several times over in the food department. Any day the Hebe and Apollo cabins teamed up, Jenny would be there with something special, be it pie, cookie, or pizza.
Alyss...Alyss, too, was a bright spot. Her gentle tact and dry wit were things that instantly drew Will to her; she was welcoming and didn't judge, something he craved. She had intelligence and was one of the smartest people Will knew, even though she rarely showed it. She hated actually fighting (despite the fact she could handle double knives like nobody's business), but was always there in the background smoothing down ruffled feathers, pointing out flawed plans, keeping the Ares kids from killing not only each other but everyone else in Camp Half-Blood.
Not only was she tactful and smart, she was pretty. No, beautiful. She had the poise and confidence he'd seen in many Athena children, as well as a clear, level head even when the unexpected happened. Although there were Aphrodite kids out there prettier than her, Will much preferred Alyss's own style of beauty to theirs.
In all honesty, Will wasn't quite sure what he felt about Alyss. He'd liked girls before- rather, liked one girl back at his orphanage- but Will hadn't felt that towards anyone in so long that it felt strange. Indeed, he'd been nine the last time he'd had a crush; what was to say that that had even been a crush? Or that this was a crush now? But whatever it was, Will resolved never to tell Ferris. Ever. Who knew how the older boy would react?
At the end of three weeks, Chiron made an announcement at dinner, stating that the Rangers of Apollo would be coming for a visit and would be staying a week. They would arrive the next day. Monday.
Now that Will had known Ferris for three weeks, it was easy to see that Ferris's hatred of the Rangers knew no bounds. Every time they were brought up either by Will, Ferris, or someone else, that unnerving, manic glint would shine in Ferris's eyes and he'd mutter or rant or rave about something Will never understood. Every single time, Ferris would say something terrible happened, that the Rangers deserved to die for their crimes, that they should never even have existed. Every single time, Ferris would abruptly snap out of it and apologize. Every single time, Will believed he meant the apology a little less.
When Chiron made the announcement, Will's first thought was to look at Ferris. He had mixed reasons for doing so, but one of the foremost was that he wanted to see Ferris's reaction. Would he be angry? Would he perhaps go into one of his manic spells right there?
But Ferris's face was unreadable and he remained silent, sitting alone at the empty Hades table. Will went back to looking at Chiron and the rest of the meal passed uneventfully. Then as everyone was leaving, a hand latched onto Will's arm. Will hated being grabbed out of the blue like that: it made him feel defenseless, unprotected, and scared as if he were alone on the streets again and had just been ambushed. But when he'd tried to bring it up to Ferris, the boy had only laughed. "You're just paranoid, get over it," he'd said. So Will had shut his mouth and done just that.
"We need to talk." Somehow when Ferris said that, Will got the feeling he really meant I need to talk.
"Okay."
Ferris led Will over to a secluded spot beside the lake, where the two sat down. Unwilling to be the first one to speak, Will stared at the older boy and waited. Finally, Ferris spoke. "I can't believe they have the guts to come back here."
Like always, curiosity burned within Will. He longed to know why Ferris hated the Rangers so much. The son of Hades always made excuses- they didn't have time, they could get overheard, Will needed to do something first. But after he'd asked Ferris to tell him for the fifth time, the boy had gotten angry at him. After that, Will didn't ask. So he just nodded in reply to Ferris and waited for his friend to continue on.
"After all they've done to me, can you believe they have the nerve to come back to Camp Half-Blood?"
"Maybe they don't know you're here," Will suggested.
"Oh, they definitely know I'm still here."
"Maybe they want to make amends?"
Ferris scoffed. "Yeah, right. You can't just ask forgiveness for something like that."
Will bit his tongue. "Well, I guess we'll find out then, won't we?"
Ferris stared at the ground, eyes dark. "I suppose we will."
"Good morning, No-Name!"
Will's lips tightened. Ever since Horace, son of Ares had found out he had no last name, the boy had apparently decided to make his life as miserable as possible. Horace knew Will would never take outright action against him; not only was Will far weaker and less experienced than Horace, the Apollo cabin was also five campers smaller. And while Will was generally regarded as an outcast, Horace was one of the senior campers and could almost have challenged the head counselor for his position.
"Hey! No-Name! Don't ignore me!"
The Ares cabin was known to house the most bullies; they could be found in any cabin, but Ares kids had just the right amount of physical strength and just the wrong amount of intelligence and impulse control to have the perfect recipe for bullying. Although Chiron hated bullying and stopped it whenever he could, Mr. D encouraged it, saying that 'tribulation made one stronger.' Therefore, most kids under the age of fifteen were either bullies or bullied.
A rough hand landed on his collar. Panicking, Will reacted instinctively: lashing out with his legs, ripping out of Horace's grip and decking him solidly in the head. Although Will was no match for Horace in brute strength, in wits and speed Horace was hopelessly outmatched.
The son of Ares staggered back, wiping at the blood dripping from his nose. Rage seemed to pour from Horace and Will found himself for once wishing his instincts hadn't kicked in.
"βάλλ' εἰς κόρακας!"
Will snarled, automatically understanding the words as go to the crows- perhaps more accurately, go fuck yourself! He knew that attempting to wrestle with him would only end badly, so he slipped into his old tactics- fight, then flight. Will had always been fast and that speed had been honed through years of life or death situations. He darted in and out, landing or feinting a hit and moving away before the lumbering beast that was Horace could even react.
For a few seconds the plan worked perfectly. Horace was slow and not too bright. Unfortunately, however, he still had some iota of brainpower and soon wised up. The fourth time Will leaped in, Horace lashed out with one foot. Not expecting an attack down below, Will staggered. That was enough for Horace to grab Will by the throat and lift him bodily into the air, strangling him.
"Not so confident now, are you, No-Name?" Horace sneered. His breath smelt terrible. If he hadn't already been choking from lack of air, Will would've gagged at the smell. "I'm the one with all the power here, understand?" He shook Will roughly. Will just glared at him. He'd run into enough bullies in his short life, thank you very much. The day he'd agree to one of their demands was the day the underworld would freeze over. "I said, do you understand!?"
Will remained silent. Growing impatient, Horace dropped him roughly on the ground, leveling him a harsh kick in the ribs. Will weakly struggled to stand up but was shoved back down again. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" Will glared hatefully at him. Horace launched into a series of unoriginal curse words. At the end of them, he kicked Will again. By that point, Will was fairly certain at least one rib was bruised, and badly. His throat would also probably sport bruises for the next couple of days- if he made it to the next couple of days. By the way Horace was looking at him, Will couldn't be completely sure.
He suddenly found himself wishing for Ferris. Even though he'd probably berate Will for being stupid and attracting Horace's attention in the first place, he would save Will from the son of Ares. But Ferris had vanished late last night, not wanting to be around for when the Rangers came to camp. He'd told Will he wouldn't be able to bear it. Neither George nor Jenny would dare take Horace's wrath on them in place of Will, and Alyss probably wouldn't either- Will was well and truly alone.
Will stared up into Horace's hateful eyes, clamped his jaw shut when Horace kicked him again. He was still speaking; spouting hateful words and curses and telling Will he should've never been born.
"Stop."
Horace didn't seem to recognize the new voice. He bent over and picked Will back up again, still ranting, cursing, yelling.
"I won't say it again, Horace Altman."
Both boys stiffened, slowly turned around. Horace's grip on Will's shirt tightened. Will had never heard Horace's last name before and briefly wondered if the new voice was Ares himself, stopping his son. From what he'd heard of Ares, though, that didn't seem likely. As they both turned fully around, Will's eyes got wide with fear. From the way Horace promptly dropped him and backed away several feet, Horace was cowed as well.
Standing before them, longbow raised and arrow already nocked to the string, was a Ranger.
"R-Ranger, y-you've got it all wrong," Horace stammered hurriedly. "This was j-just a, a game. I wasn't actually hurting him or anything. Right, Will?"
Will weighed his options briefly. If he told the truth, he would get in more trouble with Horace later on. If he lied, the Ranger might get mad at both of them. Thankfully the Ranger spoke before Will could fully decide. "I'd say the bruises already forming on his neck and the way he's clutching his ribs are telling me otherwise. Now, would you like to rethink what you're telling me, or would you like me to put an arrow through you instead?"
The Ranger's voice was cold, clear, and even. The sheer calmness of it made it unnerving. His face was much the same: cold, impassive, calm. If he hadn't spoken Will wouldn't have known what he thought of the situation at all, except perhaps for the arrow that was still nocked, still pointing straight at Horace's...leg?
"Y-You're right. I was! I was hurting him! I didn't mean to bruise his ribs or anything, though. It just happened, I swear!"
"I see. Did you also mean to near strangle him? How about cursing him to Tartarus and telling him to kill himself?" Will flinched at the Ranger's words. He'd sort of let Horace's words wash over his ears, not truly taking in any of them, but now that the Ranger had brought them up there was no escaping them.
"I..." Horace seemed, for once, lost for words.
"Well?" The Ranger was growing more impatient by the second. Will noticed he pulled the arrow back ever so slightly.
"N-No, of course not."
"I see," said the Ranger again. He nodded thoughtfully. "I will be informing Chiron of this. I think you know that he does not tolerate bullying in camp, yes?" Horace visibly sagged in relief, obviously thinking that he was being let off easily. Then the Ranger continued. "And if I ever see or hear word of you hurting anyone else in this camp ever again, I will put this arrow straight through your heel. Even nectar and ambrosia won't be able to make you walk straight again."
Horace gulped. "Y-Yes, sir!"
"Will."
The boy jumped, clutching his ribs with a barely-concealed wince. "Yes, sir?" He didn't quite hide the tremor in his voice. Ferris would kill him if he found out what he'd provoked Horace to do. Surely this Ranger wouldn't be different. In fact, he'd probably be worse. What would his punishment for Will be?
"Come with me."
Will lurched up unsteadily, swaying as dizziness came on. His ribs throbbed. His throat ached every time he drew in breath. Then he realized whose company he was in and wiped his face free of any pain. He was in a Ranger's company; someone from the order Ferris despised. Ferris might very well hit Will himself once he found out Will had talked to a Ranger alone, but it wasn't like he had a choice. The Ranger would probably shoot Will in the ankle if he didn't obey.
The two of them walked in silence. Now that the Ranger's longbow was slung at his back and Will was no longer under direct threat, he had time to survey the mysterious figure.
The Ranger was middle-aged, somewhere between thirty and forty, with dark hair beginning to grey. Both his hair and his beard were unevenly cut like his barbers had done a very bad job with it- or like he'd cut them himself. He wore a strange cloak mottled grey and green with a deep hood that hung down his back. At the front, it was fastened with a silver laurel wreath- one of Apollo's sacred symbols.
"Have you met my dad?" Will asked before he could stop himself.
The Ranger turned his gaze to Will. "Met who?" he asked, yet Will got the strangest feeling he already knew exactly who Will had been talking about.
"Apollo. He's my dad."
"Yes," the Ranger said shortly. Will waited to see if he was going to elaborate, but he said no more and several minutes later, the man finally stopped. They were not far from the Big House with no other person close by. All of Will's previous misgivings came back; did the Ranger want to shoot him, perhaps? What if he was a son of Ares himself and wanted revenge on Will for provoking Horace? What if-
"How are your ribs?"
Will blinked, taken aback. Maybe the Ranger wanted to know so he knew how much he could hurt Will? In that case, should he over-exaggerate? What if he wanted to know in order to see how weak Will was? Maybe it'd be the best idea to say they didn't hurt at all.
"For Hades's sake, I just asked how your ribs felt," the Ranger snapped as the silence dragged on, "not which Aphrodite girl you're in love with."
"I'm- I'm not-" Will stammered, before hastily stopping when he met with the Ranger's glare. "Um. They're- uh, they're...fine. They're fine, sir."
"If you're going to lie to me, at least put some effort into it."
Will flushed and looked at the ground. "They're bruised, maybe broken. I've had worse, though. I'll be fine."
When he looked back up, the Ranger's expression was unreadable. He reached inside his cloak and brought out a pouch, which he offered to Will. Will hastily took it from the older man and opened it, seeing ambrosia inside . "Take half a square. Follow it with this." He offered a canteen. "Not too much nectar now, mind you. Wouldn't do for you to burn up."
Will nodded and broke off half a square of the godly food, fighting a grimace at the sawdust taste. Other demigods seemed to think ambrosia tasted good, but Will had never been able to see why. Both nectar and ambrosia were tasteless to him. After he'd finished with the ambrosia, he handed the pouch back to the Ranger and accepted the nectar canteen, taking a swig. Already, he could feel the bruises start to fade. He gave the Ranger a grateful, if wary look. Over the weeks he'd learned it was good manners to thank someone for something like this.
"Thank you, sir."
"The name's Halt."
He hesitated. Ferris would never forgive him if Will told him he was on first name basis with a Ranger. "Was that all, sir?"
Halt studied him for a few seconds. He seemed almost...disappointed? Angry? Will couldn't tell. "Yes, that was all," he said finally. He started walking away before looking over his shoulder and adding, "for now."
Will watched the mysterious Ranger go, confused. When he'd realized the figure stopping Horace from killing him was a Ranger, he'd expected someone different. He'd expected someone who was cruel, manipulative, merciless. Someone who'd kill both of them as soon as look at them. But Halt had been...gruff, yes. But he'd given Will ambrosia, had stood up for him, had given Horace punishment for bullying someone.
What if Ferris was wrong? What if there were some good Rangers after all?
