Chapter 3 (4,350 words)
I managed to get down to the dining pavilion without dropping asleep. I could understand why Chiron told me not to sleep until nightfall (it would mess up my sleep schedule something fierce, that old softy dad), but at that point I was so tired I was struggling not to fall asleep on the grass.
"Hey man— Whoa!" I was greeted by a surprised Rob at Hermes' table, wearing his usual ensemble of sweatpants and a camp t-shirt and sandals; perfect for some archery and pankration today. "Hades man, you look like a zombie!"
"Eargh," I groaned as I plopped down at his side. "Didn't sleep. Was training. Why aren't my powers consistent?"
"Why aren't you sleeping now?"
"Sleep schedule would die, daddy Chiron said no."
Rob looked disturbed. "Um, dude, please don't call Chiron daddy, that's fucking weird man."
I sighed as I laid my outstretched arm on the edge of the table and rested my head on my bicep, looking up at Rob with lidded eyes, my silver-white hair sprawled on my arm and across my face. "But why not? Why can't I call him daddy? Isn't he basically like a father to us?" I pitched my voice a little higher. "Or is it that you don't want me to say 'daddy'?" I asked, pouting.
Rob shivered. "Gods why do you do that? Where did you even learn to do that? Why? I know you fucking know what you're doing, don't even try to deny!" He looked down. "The Why Boner 2: Revengeance," he whispered in a haunted voice.
"Oh?" I smirked. "Is there something you haven't told me?" I slung an arm around his neck, leaning into his ear. "Don't worry, we're all Greek. There's no judgement here," I whispered.
"Gods damnit!" He yelled, jerking away and punching me in the shoulder. I giggled madly as I held my arm, rubbing the pain away.
"Is this what's called a trap?" He bemoaned his fate of getting trap'd. "Again, why do you do this?! How do you do this?!" He asked, throwing his hands up in desperation.
I snorted in laughter. "Bro, you try being raised by two mothers who wanted a daughter."
Rob's face turned lecherous. "Oh yeah, your mom is pretty hot…"
I made a disgusted face. "Eww, bro that's my mom you're thinking about! Don't forget she will beat your ass."
"Oh shit you're right, you told me she was a daughter of Ares right? Damn, and she's survived all this time outside of Camp…" He shivered. "Please don't tell your mother I said anything!"
"She's a daughter of Bel— Er, Enyo, actually," I caught myself from revealing 'that' secret. "And besides, she'd probably be flattered before kicking your ass."
"Hmm, nice nice," Rob replied, rubbing his chin in thought. "Though, going back to your 'trapping' skills, if this is how you are when you're drunk on fatigue, I do not want to be there when you get drunk for real."
I shrugged. "Eh, if I ever get drunk for real (which I'm kind of iffy I can even get drunk cuz fire blood), it'll prolly be like me drinking coffee. Which reminds me…" I said, reaching for my goblet.
Rob's eyes widened in horror. "Oh shit, no! No, you're not allowed to drink coffee!" He turned to Luke's side of the table. "Hey Luke, what's the protocol for Gwyn drinking coffee?" He yelled out above the din of half-awake ADHD demigods, catching the attention of everyone at Hermes' table and Aphrodites' and Dionysus' tables to our sides.
"He's not allowed to! But if he does, run like hell! And don't let him near the forest!"
I took my goblet and wished for some sweet, sweet coffee, the bitter smell of roasted beans wafting up as it filled it up. I took some honey from the table and added a generous amount, stirring the contents and raising the goblet to my lips. Rob's (and everyone that happened to be looking our way) eyes widened in horror.
"OH SHIT HE'S GONNA DRINK SOME COFFEE!"
"OH SHIT EVERYONE, KILL THE FIRES, RUN TO THE OCEAN!"
I was too distracted to notice the pandemonium, too concentrated on drinking some of that wakey wakey juice. I sipped my cup of coffee, relishing in the warmth of the brew, the sweet undertones of the honey under the bite of bitter bean broth. Rob had long since evacuated the area, breakfast half eaten and left on the table. Luke was frantically trying to extinguish the fire of the closest brazier, and most of Hermes cabin was already halfway down to the ocean shore, Castor and Pollux from Dionysus cabin running faster than anyone had ever seen them and most of Aphrodite cabin screaming and running over each other in their desperation to evacuate. Some of the other cabins were looking our way curiously, some campers' faces contorting in panic as they realised what was happening.
"I. AM. ALIIIIIIIVVVVEE!" The terrible roar of a god of fire, a demon from the depths of Christian Hell being summoned to the mortal plane, coincided with the braziers of the dining pavilion all exploding with fire, their flames rising 10 feet into the air, roaring like the Nemean Lion and burning more than a couple people's eyebrows off, including Luke's. A pillar of fire erupted into the sky from my mouth like dragon's breath as I jumped out of my seat, wide awake, muscles tensed and fists clenched at my sides.
"GODS DAMN IT WHO LET FLAME-BRAIN DRINK COFFEE?" I heard Annabeth exclaim from the Athena table at the other end of the pavilion.
"DADDY CHIRON DID! I AM AWAKE NOW! CLARISSE! LET'S FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOO!" I yelled back, dashing towards the arena, laughing madly all the way.
"GODS DAMN IT GWYN," Clarisse shouted from Ares' table, eyebrows singed and clothes smoking. "I'M GONNA KILL YOU YOU GODS DAMNED TWERP!" She exclaimed, taking off after me, most of Ares' cabin following in her wake and trailing ashes, baying for my blood.
The arena was a sand pit about the size of half a soccer field, circular and ringed by a short, knee-high wall and stone benches, with a tarp for shade against the sun at the east and west perimeters of the arena and cheap plastic tables holding large water containers and paper cups. A weapons rack at the entrance housing practice blades and live steel, some straw and pillow dummies scattered around the arena, and three small rings outlined with sandbags for wrestling and pankration at the far end of the entrance, with a large chest housing sparring gear and medical supplies to the side, a boombox sitting next to the chest. I was already in a sparring ring, having shucked my shirt off and done my hair up in a tight bun and put some thickly padded sparring gloves and shin guards on.
Midway there I'd remembered I was still wearing swimming trunks, so I popped into my cabin for a quick change into a pair of athletic shorts and underwear and rushed to get to the arena before anyone else. I was warming up when Clarisse and most of Ares' and Hermes' cabin entered the arena, most of them having changed their clothes and washed the soot off their faces. Luke and Clarisse began assigning their campers for drills, pairing the newer and less experienced campers up with a more experienced camper overseeing and joining in the drills to keep them humble. The left over campers with the most experience split up for the rings for their own drills, and later, sparring. Luke and Clarisse stuck around the newer campers to show what drills to do and such, calling out exercises and explaining the mechanics of each move. Luke shot me a thumbs up and a sinister smile, pointing at his partly missing eyebrows, while Clarisse glared at me and mouthed, 'You, me,' and pounded her fist into an open palm.
'Ooh, both of them definitely want a piece,' I thought, chuckling to myself and turning to the rest of the campers that joined me in the ring, most of them Ares' kids.
'And I think most of these guys want some too,' I gulped, looking over the, frankly, downright murderous looks on most of their faces.
"Alright guys, just calm down and think about all those happy times we had together," I raised my hands in a futile gesture of peace. I looked at Rob, pleading with my eyes. "Rob, buddy, broski, bro of bros, come on man."
Rob just looked at me with an evil glint in his eyes. "Gwyn, it's nothing personal. You were there for the Assembly of the Bees! Hades, you even suggested the Gwyndolin Protocols that, and I quote, state: 'No demigod of unusual abilities of the manipulation of: elements (classical or otherwise), kinetic abilities, and/or extreme physical power, shall become inebriated, intoxicated, or caffeinated purposely without express example of perfect control of said unusual abilities. Any such demigod who so violates this law shall be subject to The Gauntlet.'"
I hung my head in defeat. "Alright, alright, I guess there's nothing to it." I looked up at the crowd of Ares' and Hermes' kids as I felt an aftershock of that coffee stirring me up.
"Just don't expect me to hold back!" I shouted, eyes blazing. A few kids stepped back, so I stepped forward with as much swagger as I could, arms out in welcome.
"Well, what is it? Who's gonna come to papa first?" I could see the realisation dawning on the campers before me, their righteous desire for punishment dwindling.
'After all, I am one of the best combatants in camp, period. I know it, these guys know it, and they just realised they're signing up for a no hold's barred, full on pankration Gauntlet with me!'
Even as the campers looked at each other, daring each other to go first, I only just noticed the wide, almost painful smile on my face. Finally, a grim-faced Ares' kid stepped up, Clark I think.
"Alright, let's just get this over with," he said.
"Just remember, I get music privileges for the Gauntlet," I said, turning to Rob, smile even wider now.
"Yeah yeah, I get it," he grumbled, stalking over to the boombox and clicking it on, the cd with music I'd burned into it practically a permanent fixture in the player. Cemetery Gates began playing, and I grinned even harder.
"Aww thanks bro, you do have such an amazing sense of dramatic irony." I turned to my sparring partner.
"Don't worry Clark," I said, manic grin on my face, eyes wide and arms and feet shifting to my fighting stance. "Even if I hurt you too much, there's always some nectar and ambrosia! That'll put you right up on your feet in no time!" Clark shivered and shifted into his own fighting stance.
"Just relax and it'll all be over soon." I giggled manically, partly to try to freak them out, mostly because I'm just that weird and coffee combined with fatigue seems to turn me into even more of a psycho.
Clark just whimpered.
By the time Clarisse got into the ring, I'd finished the Gauntlet and was sitting on the chest at the side of the ring, sweating profusely and on my fifth cup of water, hair loose and stuck to my bare shoulders and neck. I was banging my head to some In Flames blasting out of the music player, which meant I'd spent around 45 minutes just sparring with camper after camper; three minutes for any camper I didn't submit, less for any I did. After all, the purpose of the Gauntlet is endurance, not killing each other, and regular pankration rules would take too long, since that would go until one submits. I looked up at Clarisse as her shadow fell over me, large, muscular frame barely breathing heavily, a malicious smirk on her face.
"Get up girl-boy, time for your beatdown," she said, hands on her hips and a snarl on her face. I grinned back.
"Hah, my beatdown? I just finished warming up!" I replied, standing up and splashing the rest of my drink on my head, the fresh, cool water serving as a good pick-me-up and slight physical boost. The ache in my legs, arms and torso was already fading, and any bruises or cuts I got pretty much healed immediately as I got them, but the fatigue I was feeling was very real. There's only so much coffee can do, and I hadn't slept at all last night, on top of going through like twenty campers one after another. I stepped into the ring after Clarisse, tying my hair back into a braid (which gods damnit it's always a pain to get all the sand out of it), bare feet sticky with sand and sweat, calves aching more than any other part of my body. I stood opposite to her, stretching a bit, rotating my ankles, bouncing up and down.
"Whenever you're ready, kangaroo," I said, swinging my arms to get some of the tenseness out of them.
Clarisse snorted as she finished her own warmups. "Sherman, get over here and ref us," she called out to the Ares' kid sprawled at the side of the ring with the rest of the Gauntlet participants. Sherman groaned, and slowly got up, nursing his shoulder and arm from where I got him in an armbar earlier and going over to pick up the stopwatch sitting on the chest. I shook my arms and legs out as Sherman took his place at the side of the ring and Clarisse settled into her stance. She stood with feet around shoulder width apart, hips almost completely facing forward and hands up in a classic orthodox boxing stance, right hand only a little farther back than her left hand, elbows held tight to her torso; totally in line with her very aggressive style. I settled into my own stance, feet wider than hers (about one and a half my shoulder length) and most of my weight on my back foot, hips and shoulders almost completely turned to the side, left hand forward and relaxed, arm at around a 90 degree angle with my shoulder covering my chin, right hand next to my chin and right elbow pressed close to my torso.
In the gap before the beginning of our bout, I took stock of the situation:
'Ok, facts: We've sparred a lot. Assume she knows my style. Longer reach than me, knows not to overextend too much though, caught her before with finger and wrist locks. Very aggressive, can't stand not trying to finish quickly. Gauntlet rules, so she will want to go for a takedown. Shitty kicks (need to get her to practice them more), relies on boxing when standing up. Strength about equal, but right now she knows I'm tired, and she weighs a lot more than me; definitely wants that takedown. Can't deal with my counters. Ok, got it. She'll start with jabs, won't commit to boxing, will definitely go for a takedown, probably single leg, and likely go for stomps. Cool.'
"Ready? Fight!" Sherman called out from the side.
Clarisse advanced warily, shuffling through the loose sand, flatfooted and steady. We met at the centre of the ring, her bobbing slightly, me on the balls of my feet, ready to move, lead leg light and forward. She threw out some lazy jabs, letting me drop them, careful to snap her hands back before I could grab them, circling slowly to my left. I couldn't even try punching, her reach too long for me and her having a very good elbow game; not that I wanted to either, it's my win if time runs out.
'Doesn't mean I can't push for a real win.'
A jab, and I snapped out with my lead leg in a low kick as soon as I dropped her punch. It connected with the inside of her lead leg. Her poker face barely twitched as she took the (admittedly light) kick and jabbed again, pushing forward more and more. Dropped, another lazy jab, followed immediately with a committed one-two combo. I dropped the jab and leaned my head to the side, landing another snapping kick, her own momentum destabilising her. She closed her guard quickly and retreated as my leg came back down, shifting more of my weight to my lead leg as I stabilised from my kick.
'Now.'
Her calves tensed as she stepped back, having cross stepped into a southpaw stance, my lead leg still forward and visibly taking on more weight than usual. Barely a yard of distance between us. A perfect time for a single leg takedown. She exploded forward faster than any mortal her age (or older), reaching out for my lead leg, almost parallel to the ground. In one fluid movement, I shifted my hips and lifted my back leg high above my head and brought it crashing down on her back in an axe kick, lifting myself almost completely off the ground and flattening her into the sand.
"Stop!" Sherman called out from the sidelines, knowing that from this position I could end it with a stomp.
Clarisse rolled on her back, gasping for air.
"Gods… DAMN IT," she yelled.
"Haha, damn Clarisse you fell for that hard," I laughed, stepping forward and reaching my hand out. "Get it?" I laughed again, a shit-eating grin on my face.
"Damn it Gwyn, go die in a hole," she grumbled, taking my hand anyway.
"Yeah, I know, not my best pun, but oh well," I replied, shrugging as I pulled her to her feet.
"Argh! Why can't I beat you?! You were supposed to be tired! It was a strategy and everything!"
I just laughed again. "You're too easy to read for me; we've sparred so much I know what you're bad at and you don't really change. Also, our styles are really incompatible; I'm pretty much completely a counter fighter and you're extremely aggressive. I knew you would want to go for a takedown from the beginning, and that you're bad at kicking. I baited you with my leg kicks while you were trying to bait me with boxing. I could have gone for a back kick too, but that would've been really bad for you."
"Grr, gods-damned twerp!" She said, punching me in the shoulder. "You only win cuz it's a ring! Get that fire stuff under control so we can really see who's better!"
"Oh, don't worry, 'roo girl, I'm working on it," I replied, slapping her back and getting a wince out of her. "Pretty soon, I'll be all under control and finally crushing all you noobs at capture the flag!"
"You better! I can't wait to crush you for real!" She shouted as she stalked away with most of Ares' cabin.
"Aww, bless her little tsundere heart, she really does care," I said as I brushed an imaginary tear from my eye.
'Say what you will about Clarisse, she really is one of the strongest campers here, and a decent teacher to boot!' I thought as I turned to face Luke, who'd just finished with his own set of campers. He he was wearing shorts and a muscle shirt, no shoes, a little sweaty from doing some live exercises with a few campers, but not really looking too tired.
"So I hear you're finally training with those fancy fire powers," he said, a grin on his face and hands on his hips. "Well, hurry it up! I'm also excited to see what you're really made of; I've seen you handle practice swords like a champ, but you'll never know how you do until we do a fully live and armoured bout!"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm working on it," I replied. "I'm honestly kind of excited now that you've mentioned it, it's kind of boring when you win all the time," I said with a drawl oozing over the top arrogance, fanning my face dramatically.
"Oh yes, the plague of being too cool, I know exactly what you mean," Luke replied with a smirk. "But if you're so good, you probably don't even need a break right now! And to think, I was going to let you rest for a minute."
My head snapped back at him, his eyes glittering with mischief. I opened my mouth and raised a finger to object, but then lowered it.
"Hmm, yeah, you got a point," I sighed. "I would totally crush you if I were rested this time," I said, grinning evilly.
"Oh now you've done it!" He laughed as he bounced on the balls of his feet and shook his arms out. He stood in a square stance (similar to Clarisse, his feet less flat and his right leg further back, most of his weight on his back foot), hands up to around forehead height, both one hand length away from his face and about parallel, curled into loose fists. His elbows floated away from his torso, leaving a large gap in his defence, a trap I recognised from experience; his style prepared him to receive kicks to take advantage of toe holds, standing leg locks, or just disabling the captured leg with elbow strikes.
I went over what I knew quickly before deciding what strategy to take:
'Ok, again taller than me (no surprise, everyone is), so longer reach. Really good ground game, good at blocking leg kicks, not as aggressive as Clarisse but fucking relentless. Can't close or open distance as quickly as me though. Leaves midsection open, really good at catching kicks to the torso. How'd I beat him last time? Oh yeah, feint mid kick to Brazilian kick the head, so he'll be prepared for that. What else?' I mused as I rolled my ankles to loosen them up and swung my leg forward and back, knee almost touching my forehead. Which gave me an idea. 'Oh yeah! Not too flexible, not like me. He knows I'll watch for his trap, and I won't go to ground, cuz I'm fuckin exhausted and I'd lose, but he also doesn't want to shoot immediately when he can corner me for sure within the time limit and take me there… Alright, cool,'
"Let's get this started! Yo Connor, ref?" I called out to the Stoll brother who was coming over with a gaggle of campers also done for the day. I raised an eyebrow at Luke, who just shrugged.
"Sure, Connor's fine," he said as Connor grinned giddily and rushed to the side of the ring. I went back into my stance opposite to Luke, his tall, athletic form already bobbing up and down slightly, shoulders loose and knees slightly bent. Connor shouted, "Begin!" And Luke advanced, slowly and surely, head and torso bobbing, feet stepping in a metronome tempo. I crept forward, keeping my legs tense and stepping lightly.
We met in the middle, though Luke kept advancing, front leg lifting and dropping, then the back leg. Suddenly, as his back leg dropped back, he lashed out with his front leg in a low kick to the inside of my forward leg. I lifted my leg up in a cut and riposted with a light side kick, pushing us apart. He skipped forward and quickly brought his leg up for another low kick, which I noticed was not committed as much as the previous. A fake! I made to cut, and he stomped his foot back on the sand and drove forward with a jab. I committed to the cut and slammed my foot into his lead hip, stopping most of his momentum, dropping my foot back before he could snatch it. I twisted my hips and brought my back leg in a roundhouse kick to his open left side. He reacted quickly as I made contact with his ribs, barely letting out a grunt of pain before he wrapped his arm around my leg, hooking under my knee.
'Perfect!' I felt my lips curl in a slight grin at the well-executed trap. Before I could do anything though, Luke tightened his arm around my leg and took a long step back.
My eyes widened. "Oh shit!" My legs separated until I was stuck in a full split, hands reaching down to steady myself. Luke quickly twisted, mounted my leg, got my foot in an ankle lock and put the pressure on. I tapped his back and Connor moved in as Luke let go.
"Gah shit, there goes my undefeated streak," I sighed as I flopped back.
"Haha I knew you'd go for it this time, you're stubborn like that," Luke said as he sat back on his heels, hands on his hips. I snorted. "Yeah, I wanted to let you catch me and then go for a knee and elbow."
Luke winced. "Damn, I'm glad I did that then."
"Yeah, honestly not my best plan, now that I think about it. You probably would've just taken it anyway. Should have slipped out or gone to take your back when you turned around since I'm flexible enough for that." I groaned and drew my hands across my face. "Why did I tell you that? Now you'll know to look for that!"
Luke just chuckled and stood up. He stepped over to me and offered a hand up and gave a good smack to my shoulder, saying, "Come on, get up. It's almost time for lunch."
"Oh shit, is it only lunch time? I thought I was almost done with the day!" I groaned. The adrenaline pump was fading away, and right now bed was sounding like Elysium. I yawned and followed the rest of Hermes' cabin out of the arena, tugging my shirt on.
'Gods damn it,' I thought as I struggled to stop yawning and keep my eyes open. 'It's going to be a long day.'
AN: Hello again. Apologies for taking so long to post, I have been rather busy with studying for exams and essays. Unfortunately, I will likely be late next week as well, though I believe I will be able to post on a weekly basis after that.
Anyway, I just want to say a few things today. As I was writing this chapter, I came across a dilemma: how should I write a fight scene? I could write it in that classic, vague 'he slashed, he stabbed, he rolled' way, or I could write in the Baki, Holyland, Kengan Asura way. And then I realised, 'Wait, these are literal superhumans fighting monsters? Do classic techniques even work?' And then I was like, 'Well, that's what this is for; to find my own style, no?' So anyway, I probably will be writing the above way for any human on human fights, and switch to something else when human vs monsters. Unless you guys are utterly repulsed by the way I wrote it here? Anyway, what I would like to say is that any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Honestly, I'm not too sure about this chapter as a whole, since I've been a bit distracted and stuff, but we're only like two more chapters until the first quest. My general plan for this story is to somewhat follow canon until book 3, and even then I don't want to focus too much on the main gang. You already know that story, so I will try to not simply copy and paste the original here with only a few new spices added.
Finally, I would just like to thank you guys. Honestly, I did not want to say so before, as I knew I was coming up on the challenge of continuing, because I know myself pretty well. But, you guys who've followed and favourited, hell, even just watching the view count go up. That means a lot to me. I do enjoy writing, and this is mostly a project to get some confidence in myself, because I have a lot of things I want to write, if only to see things I find interesting come to life. So thank you. I hope you are all well, and that you enjoyed this chapter. Until next time.