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If you've never been on a train before, here are some pro tips to maximize your experience;
1) Bring a pillow and snacks
2) Have a traveling buddy, you'll get bored
3) Don't talk to the sack pile of peanuts
I felt even more on edge than earlier, and there had been giants and oversized turkeys before.
Klove was nursing a goose egg in his corner, while I sat as far away from the peanuts as possible. Not that I was freaked out or anything.
Never.
Rustling came from Klove's side, and I turned to see him shambling over, cradling his horned head.
"You okay, Mr. Goat?" I asked, but he just groaned.
"It's Klove, and I'm a satyr. Where we goin' anyway?" I realized he hadn't been awake to hear the talking peanuts.
"New York, some place called Long Island," I replied, shrugging. He suddenly looked excited, and relived. Guess he knew the place.
"Camp Half-Blood! Oh man, that's a huge relief! I thought we'd have to fight our way across the country!" He began to do an odd jig, but immediately stopped and doubled over.
"Oooooo, bad idea," he moaned out. I giggled slightly, despite everything overwhelming me. I needed any excuse to laugh right now.
"Hey Klove?," I called.
"What's up," he asked, walking over and slowly sitting down next to me. He wasn't facing me, but his eyes shone with cautious curiosity at me from his peripherals.
"Who is Phusis? You freaked out when I said I had a dream about her. Is she important?" His breathing got heavy, like he might have a panic attack if I said Physis again.
"P-phusis...She was-is,...a-a primordial," he whispered, voice breaking slightly. I didn't know what that meant, so I promoted him.
"What's a Primoral?" I said. He laughed shakily, shaking his head before turning bodily to face me.
"Primordial. It means one of the original godly beings in existence," he explained, utterly serious. "They were here before the titans; ancient, all powerful, and worshiped by all. Until they were forgotten. Phusis was the primordial goddess of nature," he said, his tone no somber.
His face was downcast, eyes beginning to water. These Primordial's must have meant a great deal to satyrs.
"What do you mean, forgotten," I asked.
"People stopped worshipping them, and instead gave tribute and offerings to the titans. When the gods took power, the titans too began to be forgotten. It is a fate equal to death for immortals."
I realized now why he was so freaked I mentioned Phusis. She was a primordial, a forgotten goddess. So why was she speaking to me? Why did it sound as though she had called me her son?
"You said demigods are the children of mortals and gods, right?" Klove nodded, eyes questioning. "So, if the Primordial's were still around, would that mean they could have kids too?," I asked.
The cowboy satyr's eyes widened bit by bit. He snorted suddenly, brushes hair curly hair back and laughing nonchalantly.
"I suppose so," he said causally. "What of it?" His voice was forcefully restrained, but I could tell he was tense.
"In my dream," I began, and his interest returned in full, "Phusis appeared to me in New York, but it was destroyed. There were bodies and monsters everywhere. She said certain only the chosen heroes could save the world."
I looked at Klove, and he was watching me like I was a ticking time bomb.
"A-anything else s-she say?" He stuttered out.
"She said 'the child of a primordial holds the power to change things', or something like that." I took a breath, and I heard Klove do the same.
"Does that mean that Phusis is my godly parent?"
There was dead silence as we stared each other in the eye, before-
"Blaa-aaaa-aaa," Klove bleated, shooting to his feet, swaying, and then collapsing in a heap.
Great, I broke the goat.
A gust of wind rustled through the car, settling around me like an invisible blanket, and the ever more familiar whisper of Phusis ghosted upon my ears.
"He is right to be surprised, Mitchell," She began, my breath hitching. "Many do not realize that though we Primordial's have been forgotten, we shall never fade. Not as the gods and titans and monsters do. We are the first, and we shall be the last."
She sounded resigned as she talked, as though immortality was more a burden than a gift.
"Doesn't that mean you'll live forever? Isn't that a good thing?" I asked. It didn't sound like a bad thing to me. She chuckled, and though I couldn't see her, I could tell she was smiling sweetly, as she had in my dream.
"Yes and no, my child. The Primordial's may not fade, but we do sleep for eons at a time. Whenever we awake, it is because we are to help shape the world's destiny," Phusis explained. I nodded to myself. That didn't sound very fun after all.
Then another question came to me, one I realized I desperately wanted an answer to.
"In my dream, b-before, you said "a child of a Primordial"..." I faltered slightly, but I willed myself to continue. "Am I your son, Phusis?"
The whisper of Phusis was silent, and nothing could be heard but Klove's snores and the wind whistling past the open car.
"All will be revealed soon, Mitchell," she revealed, before the feeling of her lips on my ear faded, and I was left alone with an unconscious satyr.
New York was huge, I thought in amazement. There were so many buildings, almost all of them piercing the sky itself, blotting out the skyline with their own majesty.
Even from the distance, I could hear the noises of a city that was practically alive; cars, thousands of them, blaring around the beating rhythm of millions of footsteps. It only grew more deafening as we approached.
However, with the revelation of just how clustered and loud New York City actually was, came a growing sense of unease.
Where were the trees? The grass? The clouds themselves were a polluted grey, and as it loomed ahead I began to smell what an overcrowded city really was; a giant sewage pit.
Why did I hate this place so suddenly? I was sure I was excited before, now I just felt like stepping into this obnoxiously artificial place would be WRONG.
Thankfully, the train stopped about a mile from a humongous bridge to the city, and Klove and I hopped out of the car. Just before the train rumbled away in a blur, I could swear I heard that creepy sack of medieval peanuts say 'goodbye'.
"Where to now?" I asked. Klove grinned down at me, then nodded toward the bay.
"We're gonna get a cab, Mitch," he answered.
Did he just call me Mitch? And swim? Really?
"I hate that name..." I mutter, but Klove ignores me. "How are we gonna get a cab OUTSIDE the city?" His cocky grin grew wider.
"I have ways," he said mysteriously, before trudging on towards the bridge.
Did EVERYONE have to be so gods-forsaken VAGUE! Was it a Greek thing?
"How?" I asked again, fed up and annoyed.
"You'll see," he repeated. We continued like that for the next mile. Just as we reached the bridge, I asked him for the hundredth time, and Klove reared around, hands flinging up in anger.
"For the love of Pan, SHUT UP!" He yelled. Fuming, he stomped to the bridge, yanked a large golden coin from his pocket and threw it onto the road.
Nothing happened for a few moments, then... the squeal of speeding tires, a blur of grey, and what looked like "TIAX" as a taxi screeched to a halt in front of us.
An ancient, disfigured face peered out of the window, scowling. Where were her eyes?
"Well, get in already, we don't have all day!" A chorus of voices yelled.
Klove snatched open the door, clambering in. I followed, and was greeted by the sight of three very old ladies crammed into the front seat.
"Where to?" One snapped, one bulbous eye peeking out under heavy eyebrows. Klove looked nervously at me, a drastic shift in attitude from before, then turned to the woman.
"Long Island, Connecticut," he said. Then he turned once again to me. "Hope you don't get motion sickness," he warned, before the TIAX sped off like a jet through the city.
"WooooAAAAHHHHH!" I yelled, searching wildly for a seatbelt. Instead of a belt, it seemed this cab had seat chains. Maybe next time.
"Who are these crazy women!" I yelled at Klove, who was clutching, the seat for dear life while chewing earnestly on some ripped out stuffing.
"We're the Grey Sisters," one of the three shouted back. "My name is Anger!" She said.
"Wasp", yelled the one with the single eye.
"I am Tempest," said the driver, an obvious lisp to her voice, "Whose idea was it to go outside our service zone!" They began to bicker between each other.
"It was Anger's idea!" An indignant shout came from Anger. "Was not, it was Wasp's idea!" There was shuffling, the sound of kicking and shoving.
Were they FIGHTING as they drove? I felt my stomach do flips as we drove recklessly in traffic, around corners and through narrow tunnels.
"You two shut up and let me drive!" Tempest screeched. "You always drive!" "Do not, Wasp did last time!" "No, it was Anger!"
They started scuffling again. I could hear Klove's whimpers next to me, the middle seat torn open, stuffing everywhere.
"RIGHT!" Wasp suddenly yelled above the noise, and the car lurched so hard I flew sideways into the window, banging my head.
"Oooo," I moaned. My head felt like it'd been cracked open by a sledgehammer. The noise from up front wasn't making things any better.
Outside, the scenery was a blur of buildings, which gradually changed to the darkness of a tunnel, and then to the flora and fauna of woods. This was definitely not New York Anymore.
Up front, Tempest called out "Long Island stop". We jerked to a stop, and I nearly flew up into the dashboard.
Unsteadily, I clambered out of the car, Klove following suit, before collapsing to the ground.
My knees felt like jelly. I got up, turning to see Klove give the sisters a few more golden coins before they sped off, smoke curling form the tires.
"We are NEVER doing that again, goat-boy," I said. Klove gave me a smug grin, enjoying my discomfort. "Come on, pipsqueak. Camp is this way."
He walked into the woods, and after a few moments I trailed after him.
Before long, we came upon a small clearing, on the other side of which led into a open expanse. A large hill ran up to a single, lonely pine tree.
At the end of a clearing, a grand arch stood, its columns covered in crawling vines. Upon the arch we're engravings, which I somehow understood to be Greek. They read out "Camp Half-Blood".
The safest place in the world for me, according to Klove.
"This is it," he said next to me. "Welcome to your new, monster fighting, dangerous quest taking, combat training home. You'll hate and love it, pipsqueak."
I was slightly annoyed at my new nickname, but more than that I felt anxious. What would I find for myself here? I was both excited and terrified of what I'd find.
I felt the wind shift, and knew that Phusis was present.
"Go, Mitchell, and you will find your destiny," she urged. I smiled. I had my mother to watch over me, and that calmed every tingling nerve.
"Lets go, Mitchell," Klove said, leading me forward under the arch.
At the top of the hill, the pine tree overlooked a vast valley. At the center, an array of cabins sat. Off to the side, a large house stood.
To the other, a forest stretched over a huge distance. I could also see field of strawberries, as well as a lake at the valley's end. All in all, the place looked beautiful, and I could only stare dumbly and try to take it all in.
Everywhere, no matter where I looked, campers milled around in droves. Some were sparring in a practice field, others going about their business at the cabins, and some tending to what looked like stables.
"Are these all...demigods?" I asked. Klove nodded, smiling fondly.
"Yep, every last one. All different kinds too. Each cabin down there is the home of a godly parents children." I nodded, awed, before I realized something odd.
"Why are there only twelve cabins, aren't there more gods than that?" Klove chuckled in response.
"You're pretty quick, Mitch." He ignored my kick to his ankle. "Those cabins represent the twelve Olympians. There isn't enough room in the valley for a cabin dedicated to EVERY SINGLE GOD, that'd be crazy."
With that, he began the descent down the hill. "Follow me, pipsqueak. We've gotta go introduce you to Chiron."
Who? I asked him, and he explained Chiron was the demigods trainer at Camp, as well the mythical legendary trainer of famous heroes.
"Oh, and," he said as we approached the house, the Big House he had called it, "don't freak out when you meet him. He isn't what you'd expect." Well that didn't tell me anything, but I told myself I'd keep my cool.
Unless, you know, he tried to eat me. That seemed to be a recurring problem when I met someone 'new' nowadays.
We entered a living room in which sat a coffee table, a chair and a couch, and a wheel chair inhabited by...no one. Where was the cripple?
I heard clopping sound coming from a side room, maybe a kitchen, and through the hall came...
"Is that a centaur?!" I yelled. I had read Harry Potter, so I knew what a half man and half horse was at least.
The apparent centaur laughed heartily, having been caught off guard by my tiny form shouting loud enough to wake the dead. Tiny compared to him, I mean. I wasn't tiny.
I was big.
The centaur was just bigger. His lower, horse half was a palomino stallion, pure white. His human half was tanned, clothed in a sophisticated sweater and blazed. His face was sculpted, with a scraggly brown beard, and his hair was long and wild.
His eyes shone warmly, but I could see age to them. This man, er, centaur, was old.
"Klove, it seems you have brought a lively one to my camp. Who might you be, young one?" He asked kindly. I looked at Klove, who nodded reassuringly, as though he thought I was scared. I wasn't.
I was buzzing.
"Mitchell," I blurt out before the satyr can say 'Mitch.' "Mitchell Roark. I'm ten."
"Well Mitchell," Chiron says, "welcome to Camo Half-Blood. I hope you survive the time you spend here."
"Wait, what?" I said, Chiron still smiling wide.
Did he just say SURVIVE?
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Once again, Please follow, favorite and review if you'd like! Next chapter will be posted next Saturday on schedule!
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