A/N: I hope you enjoy this next installment – tell me what you think in the Reviews.

Additionally, I'd like to thank Fanfiction User shipper46, for her continued support and encouragement. Thanks to all my readers; may Hypnos bless you with a good night's sleep!

When I arrived at the arena, caked in sweat and buried under thirty pounds of "lightweight" armor, I was surprised to find the stands full. Word of my unique ability to tick off the Huntresses of Artemis seemed to have spread. What made the setup markedly different from anything I'd seen was not the Ancient Greek architecture, the Classical Age weapons, or even the Centaur acting as a referee. No, the stadium was distinguished in that a large number of people seemed to be squished together on one side – the opposite half was empty save for a few of my friends, Gwen, Roger, Jordan, and a couple of Apollo campers.

Looked up at Gwen, confused, I asked, "What's going on?"

She gave me a winning smile, and I found myself thinking about how gorgeous she was. I wasn't really a Son of Hermes after all; Hypnos had sired me, and if I liked Gwen, then so be it. Returning to reality, I managed to catch, "Mr. D had the campers sit on the side of the contender they believed most likely to win.

My shoulders slumped, and the painful gravity of my impending defeat began to take its toll. Roger noticed the expression on my face, and he gave me two thumbs up, "It's better this way. You get to prove them all wrong – do Camp Half-Blood proud!"

Giving him a grin, I turned my back and let my fake feelings vanish. I was terrified, but also determined. This Huntress was experienced, yes. She had fought alongside a powerful Olympian goddess for more than a century, yes. But I had a not-so-secret weapon. She'd be asleep in no time, I assured myself. With that, I heaved my sword (which was far too heavy, lopsided, and had a torn grip), striding semi-confidently into the arena.

Chiron blew his whistle, signaling the crowd to grow quiet as he read the rules: No killing (punishment will involve two weeks of kitchen work with the harpies, No Serious Maiming (punishment will involve cleaning the Pegasus stables, and no seeking retribution after the match (though no punishment will be offered as a deterrent). All powers, weapons, and skills are allowed. When Tyson here reaches the count of 5, you will begin.

I stood nervously facing my opponent, a 150 year-old+ warrior who looked like a Freshman in High School. Gulping, I waited for Tyson. "1...2...2-and-a-half...17...5!"

Blowing his whistle yet again, I thought I saw Chiron wink at me, but I didn't have time to dwell on it: Gloria charged. My meager training with Jordan kicked in, and I rolled beneath her legs and jumped up behind her, ready to strike. She anticipated my attack, and shot an arrow at my chest. With sheer luck, I managed to deflect it, preparing myself for the onslaught of knife attacks. Toying with me, knowing I couldn't hope to defeat her, she cut gash after gash in my armor, piercing my arms and legs in multiple places – laughing as I cried out in pain, "What's the matter, boy? Can't handle me?"

Her friends took up her song, and I was feeling sick to my stomach. Exhausted, I looked up into the stands, where Gwen was looking at me determinedly. She mouthed, "You can do this."

I nodded in response and focused on knocking Gloria unconscious. When my best efforts failed, I looked up in shock. The Huntress gave me her evil toothy grin and rolled up her sleeves; her arms were covered in caffeine patches. Groaning, I felt hopeless, there was no way to put her to sleep. My resolve dwindling, I took one last look at Gwen before Gloria pounced, pushing me hard. Fortunately, she was more into humiliating me than actually winning the fight – she wanted her victory to be slow, painful, and miserable. Every time I attempted to counter and strike, she would find some way to injure me – bashing me in the shoulder, punching me in the stomach, slapping me across the face. Finally, she spun and kicked me in the chest.

I went down, dazed. She brought up her knives and made ready to put them at my throat. I wasn't done yet, though, I was going to do Gwen proud. Capitalizing on her gloating, I made on desperate sweep to her legs. Yes! I thought, before my plan failed. She hopped easily and kicked me in the jaw, twisting her knives around my blade and hurling it out of my hands. Next, she cut the straps of my armor, and I was defenseless.

Chiron, looking resentful and angry, was about to call the battle to a stop (before the Huntress killed me, no doubt), but Mr. D stopped him, allowing Gloria to continue beating me up, "Until he yields or dies!"

I gulped, but I was never going to give in to this witch – no way would I let her embarrass me in front of my friends. Looking up, I half-expect Gwen to have left in dismay, but she was looking at me anxiously. Gloria prepared to lunge at my throat; she would impale me.

I began to glow, and I extended my arms to the heavens. The nearest cloud seemed to drift towards me, and I motioned for a wisp of cool air. What I didn't expect was the mist to gravitate towards me and solidify into a sword, one that fit perfectly! Next, the air surrounded my body, and when it departed, there was a comfortable set of armor resting on my shoulders. Hopping to my feet, I began to fight with renewed vigor. The Huntress still outmatched me, but she was looking surprised, and the stands had gone quiet. After three minutes of back-and-forth fighting, Gloria notched an arrow at let it fly – it should have pierced my armor, but the cloud that encased me deflected it, sending it off to the side of the arena. A cry of awe came from Jordan, who was hugging Roger (the Satyr desperately trying to breathe) tightly.

I attacked ferociously but never made foolish mistakes. Refusing to fall for her traps, to be goaded into making foolish moves, I infuriated the Huntress. Eventually, I knew she would defeat me – she had just to recover from her shock and become serious; then I'd be dead. My mom's words came back to me, and the feelings I'd had when she visited me last night returned.: Warmth...Amicability...Affection...Friendship.

I looked at Gloria, who was still glaring fiercely at me. To the surprise of everyone, including Mr. D (who was pretending to be disinterested), I held my sword up to the sky and willed it to return. My armor dissipated shortly afterwards. Raising my hands above my head, I said, rather stupidly, "We don't have to fight, you know. We're allies. Put down your weapons."

To the befuddlement of the crowd, who by now sat in tensed silence, watching with bated breath, she complied. Next, she ran forwards and hugged me, "I'm...I'm sorry."

Gloria stepped back and blushed, "You're right. Man or no, I was wrong to try and humiliate you."

Before anyone could applaud (or jeer), something appeared over my head. I knew it without looking because of the comfort it provided. A branch, dripping in water from having been submerged in the River Lethe (the symbol of Hypnos), floated above my head. Clovis, shaking himself out of his sleep, grinned widely, and his echoes of happiness resonated around the arena.

Suddenly, it stopped, just as quickly as it had begun. Looking upwards, I noticed why. At the bottom right-hand corner of the branch rested what looked like an emoticon: a little happy face. Confusion washed over my face, "What's going on?"

Everyone seemed to be just as lost as I was, everyone except our Camp Director, Mr. D, and Chiron. The former was sitting, mouth agape – diet coke dripping down his chin. The Centaur was pale, and he murmured, "It can't be..."

"What is it Chiron? What's wrong?" I asked, a little panicked.

"Philotes..."