Warning : Exposition.

Disclaimer : I own nothing.

~0~

Cabin Eleven, for the God of Pranksters

~0~

"ARE YOU RETARDED?!" the odd tree woman who was one of the healer had screeched at them. "He just had stomach surgery and you think it's a good idea to make him run uphill and downhill TWICE?!"

In hindsight, yes, it was the stupidest decision they had made all week, that triumphed over other stupid decisions all they had done combined. In their defense, in that madness hours ago, none of them remembered that Ray had gotten a stomach surgery to remove his damaged internal organs, and he himself didn't seem to realize it.

That somewhat sufficed as the explanation on how Ray fainted. But that didn't give the healers any clue why Percy was knocked out cold as well.

One of the possible causes was exhaustion, but that didn't seem too likely. Percy didn't look even the slightest of winded after that chase at the bridge and the ambush at the hill on the same day, so Percival figured that Percy, in actuality, still had energy to spare.

Of course, the other explanation was that weird black cold and hot fire thing that affected his mind, and that was the most plausible explanation there was. The problem was that, if the flames were indeed the case, the healers had no idea what to do in the situation.

The good thing was that the brothers were simply asleep. The healers said that they were healthy, just a few scrapes and bruises here and there. Why they were asleep the healers had no idea, but they weren't in a coma or anything like that. Regardless, they told them to not wake the boys yet, seeing that their brain was probably recovering from that mental assault.

Thankfully, the healers had these ambrosia and nectar- the food and drinks of the gods, so apparently Ray didn't need to worry too much about his stomach. The divine food could heal the wounds of demigods, the healers said, no matter whether it was internal nor otherwise.

This explanation was needed to be told over and over again to a hysteric Sally, who became more and more distressed when she saw her sleeping children. So much in fact, that the Chiron- who was actually Mr. Brunner's true identity, surprise surprise- had to knock her out with some sleeping dust.

Father was exhausted, especially since before all this insanity began he was working overtime for a new building near Queens, so he fell asleep immediately at the closest couch. Copeland left again, going to help demigods that, he then jokingly added, were being chased by a fire-breathing wyvern.

So Percival was left to his own devices.

But he had no idea what to do with his devices.

He would have read his book (The Making of the Atomic Bomb by Richard Rhodes, a book that Ray founded severely depressing, though Percival and his father had no idea why), but he left it at Copeland's cab and since all the shenanigans that had been happening, he forgot to ask the satyr to get it. He really didn't want to leave his father when he was resting right now, but no one except him was awake at the moment.

Sitting while fidgeting his fingers on a chair just accompanied by sleeping people didn't sit well with him, so he stepped outside.

Mr. Bru- Chiron, in his centaur final form, a white stallion minus the head and neck waist down and an old scruffy teacher waist up, stood at the porch, watching as armored campers stood at the camp borders and checked the strength of their barrier.

On one side, there was a view of oddly shaped cabins that was different from each other, surrounding several other structures in the middle. Interestingly enough, every single one of them were based off Greek architecture. Another view was simply the sea, and the valley, and no more significant things.

"Chiron," Percival greeted, standing beside his... teacher. Former teacher. What was he now?

"Percival," Chiron greeted back. "How are they?"

"They're asleep."

A slight smile appeared on Chiron's face. "Good."

Silently, both stared at the hill as one of the campers poked at the ground where the fire was with his sword, before carefully putting his foot on the spot.

"That thing wasn't a monster."

"No," Chiron agreed. "It was not."

Percival waited for an explanation to follow. When none was said, he spoke up, "What- who was it?"

Chiron's expression darkened. "I have a hunch, lad. Let's just hope it isn't true." He looked down the steps when one of the campers stumbled after them. "Yes?"

"No damage, Chiron," the camper reported. "At least, no damage visible, so they want to see if any magical effects are on the barrier. They want to test it, Chiron."

Chiron nodded. "Proceed, child."

As the camper went back to the camp's barrier, Percival spoke, a bit quietly, "It's true? The Olympians..."

"Indeed. The Greek gods are-"

"Is there a way for me to find out who my mother is?"

Chiron thought about it for a moment. "Two, I believe. The first is the easiest and the simplest; being claimed. The proof of being claimed could be anything, though the most common ones are hologram-like apparition that would appear above your head."

Percival reined in his smile. The owl was a proof that he was Athena's son- a proof that he had a mother. The idea was reassuring, and being right always felt good.

"Second are evidences," Chiron continued, eyes slowly leaving the campers as one of them pulled out a phone, surrounded by other campers with shields up. "Your half-blood powers, for one. If you can control vegetation and plants, it will be safe to assume that you are a child of Demeter. If you are good at making things, you may be a child of Hephaestus. Like those instances."

Percival raised a hand. Chiron stared at him for a few seconds, before a small smile grew on his face. "Yes?"

He lowered his hand. "Do speaking with things other than humans count?"

"Yes. What's the matter, lad? You can speak with animals?"

"Only owls."

Chiron hummed, looking back at the group of campers huddling together at the top of the hill. "Owls? Fascinating... owls are Lady Athena's sacred animals."

Yes, yes they are indeed.

"I think you're mistaken, sir." Percival said. "There are more than two ways of knowing who my godly parent is."

"Oh?" Chiron smiled. "What is it, then?"

"Parent. My father told me my mother is Athena right before we arrived here."

Chiron chuckled. "Yes, that is correct too. Then, does this belong to you?"

A black handgun with an owl carving on its handle was handed to him.

"A modified Springfield XDs," Chiron spoke, impressed. "And with adamantite bullets, no less. A gift from your mother, I presume?"

"Yes." What were adamantite Percival had no idea, but he guessed that 'modified Springfield XDs' was the gun.

"It's good to know that your mother cares about you, even to the point of giving gifts. I doubt Lady Athena would let someone break rules."

If 'caring your children' meant 'breaking rules,' then the Greek deities needed their priorities sorted out.

While Chiron started explaining about all the features in camp, reaching to the point of promoting it like a some kind of salesman, Percival moved his eyes to the cabin area, and the garden and basketball field in the middle of it.

His attention wasn't pointed at that, either. His thoughts were elsewhere. Namely, his best friend.

Based by the explanation the day the school was attacked, Ray's hologram was different. And if his own owl hologram was any indication, then that meant children of a different god had different holograms as a sign of being 'claimed.'

The Goddess Athena's children had owls as a sign, and if he were to guess, then Zeus probably had something akin to lightning bolts and the such, Apollo had the sun, Hephaestus had... anvils or hammers, maybe? Then Ares may had a some sort of weapon, Hermes had his cadeceus, and the such. But they hardly mattered.

No, it was Ray's hologram that mattered. He explained that his hologram was the image of a three-tipped spear. A trident. And the only Greek deity he knew that had a trident as their symbol was Poseidon.

And this bothered Percival. If memory served correctly, and he was pretty sure his memory rarely failed him, Poseidon was one of the oldest gods, and perhaps one of the strongest. His domain was the sea, so that was to be expected. His reach was wide, and he had an army of countless sea creatures at his command. Maybe even a few sea monsters.

And yet... and yet, if that was true, if Ray was indeed Poseidon's son, then why the bloody hell did he just let his son suffer like that? The shooter that made his best friend ended up in hospital covered in bloody bandages, and the monster- the Chimera that chased after them- why didn't Poseidon do anything?

Athena too, for that matter. Though, he supposed, that gun she gave them was... somewhat... useful.

Percival quietly took a breath. It had been a while since his brain worked tirelessly like that, and it felt good. The questions in his mind made him think more and more, opening up new questions after questions, though his lack of information was quite infuriating.

A thud brought him back. He stared at the camp borders, and Percival realized that the campers had unsheathed their weapons, but none were attacking. They just watched as a literal rhino-sized demon-dog with glowing red eyes and teeth similar to a saw scratched and bit at empty air in front of them. As if a barrier was holding it back.

Beside Percival, Chiron sighed in relief. "Thank the gods. The barrier's still fully functional."

Sharing his thoughts, campers that carried bows on the camp border unleashed their arrows at the creature, and before long, the beast fell and melted into shadows.

Which was eerily familiar. Percival involuntarily shuddered when he remembered that blackness slowly freezing over him. Not a good experience, 0/10.

And that darkness was one of his problems, too. For a while, Ray and Percy were just... transfixed at nothing, really. The snake lady also screamed things like 'Who are you?!' and 'Show yourself!' so there was obviously somebody causing it to appear. But who? And why save them?

By now, the campers- demigods- had returned from the border, chatting and sharing jokes and pushing each other around as they dispersed to their respectful cabins.

Interestingly enough, most entered the gray cabin with a design of an owl on top of its doorway and the blood red cabin with a stuffed boar head on its, while all the archers entered the incredibly, painfully bright golden cabin.

So each demigods had their own particular set of skills? Very intere-

Percival mentally slapped himself. Of course the demigods had their own particular set of skill. Their parents weren't Gods of Everything. There was the God of the Sky, God of the Sea, God of the Underworld, Goddess of Wisdom, and so on so forth.

He doubted children of the god Dionysus was good at... say, combat as the children of the god Ares, and likewise children of Ares at making good wine as well as Dionysus'.

So, each single one of these campers had their own useful skill. So varying, so plenty, and (one might say) so random, he could not not know its full potential and use it to his advantage one way or another.

Percival looked at the centaur. "I will be checking the cabins."

Chiron nodded, but he was clearly distracted by something. "You may go. Though I advise you return before they wake up."

"Sundown, then."

~0~

The camp was odd, needless to say.

Other than the fascinating architecture and the more fascinating dwellers in said architectures, there was the matter of the twelve different fascinating architectures.

And not to mention the blazing firepit, the roofless mess hall where the campers ate (because apparently Chiron expected them to eat in the middle of a rainfall), the arena where campers fought with real weapons, and other odd buildings and statues.

All in the middle of the twelve fascinating cabins, surrounded by the forest around them, which emitted growling sounds whenever he walked too close.

Ah yes, the cabins. There were twelve of them, which was understandable, since there were twelve Olympians and all that. Because there were twelve Olympians and twelve cabins, one might consider the gods to be a cabin's sponsor, so to say.

Percival looked to his left. A huge building with the brass number '1' nailed above the, get this, bronze doors with lightning bolts effects on it. It practically screamed 'KING' and since the King of the Gods was Zeus, the cabin probably belonged to Zeus.

And it was empty. Well, sans that huge ten-feet tall statue in the middle of the room, but mostly empty.

That was confusing. And maybe even unnerving. In the books he had read in history, children of Zeus were plenty, and that was putting it mildly. It was as if Zeus had a mating frenzy once in a week and traveled the mortal land to search for women to sleep with, regardless of his supposed wife, Hera, felt about it. Now, the cabin was empty, devoid of life.

Percival instantly remembered this morning, about Percy's dream.

"The child of Poseidon is still alive!"

Did bloody Zeus himself had a hand in the attacks? And what did that dream-satyr meant by 'The child of Poseidon is still alive'? He was pretty sure his best friend didn't do anything that could possibly cause unfathomable rage from the King of the Gods, and the only thing that may be the cause from the statement was simply the fact that Ray was-

A cold shudder ran down Percival's spine, and his eyes widened ever-so-slightly.

Don't tell him... was Ray hunted down because he was simply Poseidon's son?! If that was true, then...

Percival narrowed his eyes, and ran to the cabin beside cabin one- cabin three, the tough-looking cabin with seashell-embedded stone walls. Akin to the first cabin, it was empty.

Looking around, he didn't see anything that could pinpoint any cabin that looked like it belonged to Hades. It only added more evidence to his suspicion.

If Ray was, in fact, hunted down because of his heritage, then that meant something happened- something that banned demigods from the oldest gods from being born. Demigods like Ray would be killed, for some reason, and if these empty cabins were any indication... were the previous children... slaughtered?

Percival shuddered once more of the implication, but that didn't seem too far-fetched. Present demigods of the oldest gods were hunted down and killed, pretty much like animals. What separated them from the old demigods? The ones that were born before this... ban- this rule- was put in motion. Were they killed off too?

Percival continued walking along the lines of the odds cabins. His fists were clenched. Whatever happened, only one thing was clear. No one must know that Ray was a child of Poseidon. If someone found out... then surely Ray's life was forfeit.

No, he could not- he would never let that happen. Ray was his only, best, and first friend, and he'd be damned if Ray would die before him.

~0~

The odds were for the gods, while the evens were for the goddesses. One of the older campers from cabin six- Percival's cabin- answered his question about the empty cabins. She said that since the World War Two, which was pretty much a war between children of Zeus plus Poseidon against children of Hades, the Big Three, the three oldest gods, made an oath to never have anymore mortal children. 'Too powerful,' they seemingly reasoned.

Hence the empty cabin number one and three. Cabin two was for Hera, and unlike her husband, she was loyal to her marriage. Cabin eight was for the goddess Artemis, the moon goddess. She was a maiden for life, and that obviously meant she would never have kids.

Percival remembered that his mother, Athena, was supposed to be a maiden, but perhaps she changed her mind or something?

Regardless, Ray was a forbidden child of Poseidon, and because of that, Zeus wanted to kill him. And if he was anything like his brother, then it was not too odd to assume that Hades would want to kill his best friend too.

So, two out of three most powerful gods of Olympus wanted to kill Ray. But Percival was nothing but determined, so if he wanted Ray to live, then by the gods he would make it reality.

But the 'how' was another matter. Indeed, how could someone like Ray, who apparently had a stronger scent than the average demigod since his father was Poseidon and all that jazz, hide from murderers who could detect that scent in a place practically ruled by said murderers?

It was impossible. But, they were children of gods, and that was impossible, so he supposed they would need to break the rule of logic once more over here.

Now, since they practically lived within the world of monsters and gods, surely a thing such as magic existed as well, no? And so, equipped with information from the older Athena campers, Percival headed back toward the Big House (an irritatingly uncreative name) to search for the poem, Illiad.

Mist was the perfect answer he was searching for. One might consider it a some type of illusion magic, what with its property of shrouding things and making it look like how the caster wanted it to be, or a suggestion type of magic, since it could be used to manipulate the minds of everyone.

He only needed to search for a way to learn it, and force Ray to learn it too. This could prove beneficial to their survival, and he would not throw this useful tool away.

When he arrived, he was not too surprised to see Ray already awake, while the others still in the land of dreams. It was near sundown, after all.

"So you think that was Hades?" Ray asked, eyebrows furrowing.

"Yes," Chiron spoke, still in his centaur final form.

"But... why would Hades help us?"

"Who knows?"

Ray blinked. "Why would I be offended?"

Percival chose this moment to make his appearance known. "I heard that a god would only help mortals if they are expecting something in return."

One of the secret sons of Poseidon sat on a chair, holding a glass of golden liquid- nectar. Ray's hair was messy, his hoodie crumpled, and Percival instantly knew his friend had only awakened recently. Chiron stood near the railing, his tail swishing anxiously. For some reason, the old teacher seemed to think that the wooden floor was absolutely fascinating.

Then Percival shrugged. "Though I doubt we can do anything to appease a god."

Ray examined him for a second, then raised an eyebrow. "Where's your book, nerd?"

"Silence, you insect."

"You dare, gnat?"

The edge of his lips quirked upwards, but he didn't say anything else. Truthfully, he was glad to see Jackson already up and about. Ray's eyes held no confusion nor disbelief- it appeared that he had accepted the truth about Mr. Brunner was actually the Chiron himself, the teacher of countless ancient heroes.

Instead of confusion and disbelief however, were wariness and fear. So it also appeared that he had found out about his parentage, and the dangers it brought with it. Ha, Percival knew he didn't befriend him for nothing.

"You're back, Percival." Chiron looked up at him. "What do you think about the camp?"

"I suppose I'll get used to it eventually."

"A good answer as any. Though, I apologize, but you must 'get used to it' a little faster, my boy. To think that the Mother of Monsters herself chased after you... you will need all the help you can get, child."

True, he would need all the possible help he could get. He thought that Copeland had joked about the 'fire-breathing wyvern' before he left this morning but now he wasn't so sure. If the Mother of Monsters, Echidna, was real, then why not a fire-breathing wyvern, as well? He absolutely needed help.

"In that case," Percival said, looking at Chiron. "Do you have a translated copy of Illiad I can borrow, by any chance?"

~0~

"Schisse." Percival's dad groaned when he entered the front porch. "Please do not tell me I have to deal with two Percivals."

Both Percivals stared at him. Both were indeed very identical, from the disheveled blond hair falling down near the base of the neck, to the wrinkles and dirt stains on the clothes. Chiron, sitting in his wheelchair beside them, smiled weakly.

"Very good, child," Chiron said. "It would seem you have an affinity for using the Mist, Ray. That is very good indeed."

The two Percivals looked back at him, and one of them grinned. Slowly, swirling mist surrounded that grinning Percival, and when it disappeared, Ray Jackson stood at where the other Percival was.

"I do not think I have enough sleep..." Percival's dad mumbled.

"I can use illusions now," Ray said disbelievingly. Then he puffed his chest out proudly. "No one can stand in my way now!"

"Illusion's pathetic," Percival said matter-of-factly.

"No one asked for your opinion, you aviatic-"

Percival raised an eyebrow, and cut him off before he could finish that insult. "But I'd be lying if I said it won't be useful."

"...Thanks for your opinion, my friend."

Percival rolled his eyes. Ray was absolutely giddy. Illusions! Magic! Ha, and he thought all this time those were merely fiction. He could think of countless uses for this Mist his friend and centaur teacher spoke of, and all held merit one way or another.

But the most important of all, was that he could now conceal his appearance. Since now he knew that Ares, the God of War, had wanted to kill him because 'he was born into this world', he now had a way to protect himself. He was just a kid, and Ares was a GOD. The best course of action, Ray thought, was to keep tricking said god and all other immortal beings he would meet that he really hoped he wouldn't in the future and find the nearest exit.

Ray had instantly picked on Percival's idea on using illusions to hide himself the moment he asked about the Mist. He could use Illiad as a key for his survival. He couldn't be more grateful towards his best friend.

"Since I trust zhere are no more repercussions left," Percival's dad spoke up. "I believe now is ze time for us to go home."

Chiron nodded. "It would be best if Percy leaves before he can see anything in camp."

"Wait, you mean I won't even get to say goodbye?" Ray's eyes widened.

"It's for the best, child."

Ray looked down. The less a demigod knew, the less threat that demigod would attract. That pretty much summed up Chiron's explanation. He didn't want to not say goodbye to his little brother, but he definitely didn't want Percy to attract monsters' attention.

Ray wanted to kick himself. Gods, he was being selfish. Just for a mere goodbye, he dared to risk his brother's safety. No, he better not wake Percy up.

"...Yeah, you're right." Ray sighed heavily. "But- but at least let me say goodbye to mom."

Chiron smiled, not unkindly. "Of course you can, Ray." He slowly stood up from his magic wheelchair, revealing his lower horse body, and ignoring Percival's dad's look. Then Chiron motioned for him to come with him, and Ray followed.

When they entered the living room where mom and Percy were asleep, the former was thankfully awake, looking older and more tired than Ray had ever seen before. All in all, mom looked positively terrible.

She was frowning as she sat there, watching Percy's chest as it rose and fell rhythmically, indicating that his brother was still happy in dream realm.

"He's okay, right Chiron?" Ray asked, even though he knew the answer himself.

"He is, child."

Hearing their voices, mom turned around to look at them, and the relief on her face when she saw him was overwhelming. She stood up while he himself ran at her, latching on to her legs.

Good thing Percival wasn't here, else that owl-faced worm-eating jerk might've had ammunition for blackmail.

"Oh, Ray," mom whispered, kneeling down and putting her own hands around him. "Thank goodness you're alright."

Despite himself, Ray smiled. "That's my line, mom."

Mom pulled back, and there was an amused, if not weary, smirk on her face. "No, I'm pretty sure it's mine.

"And why is that?"

"Because I said so."

Ray faked a frown. "You're abusing your right as a parent and I don't approve it, mom."

She laughed softly, calming his nerves, and ruffled his hair. He was glad that the entire event about that escape from a firebreathing fusion demon didn't rattle his mom even a bit. In all honesty, mom was stronger than he ever hope could be.

Then her smile faltered slightly when he heard the sqeal of Chiron's wheelchair as he approached them. For the first time in his life, Ray suddenly had the urge to throw the nearest object at his old teacher for ruining his mother's mood.

"Chiron." Mom acknowledged, somewhat stiffly.

"Mrs. Jackson." Chiron failed at holding back the sigh. He probably noticed mom's tone. "How do you feel?"

"I could be worse."

Chiron looked displeased about something. "But you could definitely be better, as well."

Mom shrugged, and decided to play with Ray's hair, as if to show her total indifference to the whole ordeal. Chiron coughed politely to his fist.

"Mrs. Jackson," the old teacher called once more, in a more softer tone. "My deepest apologies, but I'm afraid you and Percy will have to leave before he wakes up."

Mom tensed, clutching his hair a bit tighter ("Ouch, mom."), and her reluctance was obvious. She leaned down and clasped her hands on his cheeks, and he was glad more than ever that Percival wasn't here to see this. Mom's eyes glistened, and Ray could tell the tell-tale sign she was about to cry if pressured anymore.

So, using the Mist, he wrote the sentence 'Please go away for a moment' on his back, hoping that the writing did appear and Chiron saw it.

Ever so slowly, Chiron's wheelchair sqeaked again, indicating that he was using it, and the sound became more and more muffled, until complete silence engulfed the room. He also heard Chiron muttering something about oiling the tires.

Ray put his arms around his mother when she knelt down and hugged him again. "Mom..."

Mom shushed him by holding his tighter. "Please, Ray. Just for another minute."

And so, they merely held each other in their arms for indeed another minute, an agonizing minute which Ray knew mom was desperately holding back tears. He understood the cruel fate that was playing here- a mother that nearly lost her child due to an incident, then they were finally reunited, only to be separated hours later for the child's own good. What kind of mother wouldn't?

Mom slowly pulled back from the embrace, only for her to connect their foreheads, and Ray saw the tears running down mom's cheeks. She was crying, only silently.

"I never wanted this to happen, you know," she murmured. "All I wanted is just all of us to have a normal life."

Ray couldn't help but smile and try to lift mom's emotions. "But normal is so boring, mom."

Mom choked out a laugh. When her laughter died down, some seriousness formed in her eyes.

"Try to be good, alright?"

"Oh, your faith in me is bringing tears into my eyes."

Mom grinned slightly. "And eat your vegetables, too."

"Tell that to Percy."

"Don't forget to drink milk, Ray."

"What am I, four?"

She laughed a bit. "Just be safe, okay Ray?"

Ray raised an eyebrow. "Did you forgot who you were talking too? I'm the very image of safe."

She smiled and hugged him once more. "Whatever you say, my little safety captain."

"Maybe I should start drinking milk," Ray wondered out loud, forever grateful that Percival wasn't around to hear that demeaning title. "So that you'd stop treating me like I'm four."

She chuckled and stood up, walking away. Presumably to search for her bag. Now Ray was alone with his sleeping brother.

He stared at Percy. Merely six years old... truly, that wasn't the age for someone to start experiencing these nerve-wracking events. This life of a demigod was simply not for the faint of heart, and there were many enemies out there that would take their life if they ever found out they were children of Poseidon.

He never wanted to give such a life to his little brother. But unfortunately, it was inevitable.

Sighing, Ray kissed Percy's forehead. "Be safe at home, Percy. And see you in a month."

Percy just mumbled in his sleep, not noticing him.

Mom returned later with her bug slung over her shoulder. Then, she carefully lifted Percy up in her arms as to not wake him up, and together they stepped into the front porch.

Percival's dad had a frown on his face and sorrow in his eyes as he stared at the sea. Percival now had the gun that his dad used in the escape in his left hand, his briefcase near his feet, and now a four-foot long sword with a gleaming silver blade and crossguard, with a white soft-looking fabric on its hilt. There was- you guessed it- a carving of an owl on the crossguard, spreading its wings.

Obviously, it was too large for Percival. Still, it looked awesome, but Percival barely paid it any attention- he was too busy looking sad and looking at his father. From what Ray could guess, his dad probably said some farewell words to him, and now neither were ready to leave the other.

He looked at wheelchair form Chiron, and the guy beside him. And then he did a double take at the guy.

The dude had many eyes, and that was an understatement. Every bit of skin Ray could see, was covered with blue eyes. Eye-guy wore a chaperone suit, so the only extra vision organs he could see was on the guy's neck, hands, and various places around his head, not just on the front.

Chiron smiled sadly at them when he saw them. "Mr. Schneider, Mrs. Jackson, meet Argus." The chaperone guy waved. "He will be the one driving you two home."

Percival's dad nodded glumly, and Argus walked around the house, probably going at whatever the ride this camp had. If they only had chariots instead of cars, Ray wouldn't be surprised.

Instead of following him, Percival's dad turned to his son, and ruffled his hair affectionately. "Be safe, Percival," he whispered. "Good luck."

Percival nodded, and he didn't seem to protest even when his dad's hand lingered on his head for a few more seconds. Ray couldn't blame him- the guy looked seriously sad.

Ray was pulled from his surroundings when mom kissed his forehead, not unlike what he did to his brother moments before. She was careful to not drop Percy as she knelt down in front of him. "Be safe, alright, Ray?" she whispered, tearfully, making Ray's insides squirmed uncomfortably. "And don't..." she trailed off, not able to finish the sentence.

Regardless, Ray could hear the unsaid word. Don't die.

Ray gave his mom what he hoped to be a reassuring smile. "I won't, mom. I promise."

Mom smiled back at him, obviously forced, and walked away, Percival's dad following silently.

For a moment, everything was silent. No one said a thing, and the only noises there were the shouts of the campers playing basketball and the satyrs' music at the strawberry field.

Ray was the first to break it. "Nice sword."

Percival nodded, but he didn't say anything else. He looked down at the blade, and slowly, it shrank, until it was the size of a kitchen knife. A dagger.

It was obvious that Percival didn't really want to speak, and truthfully, neither did Ray. But the silence was getting to him, and he didn't like it.

Chiron sighed, and when both of them stared at him, he smiled weakly at them. "Why don't I see you to your cabins, hm? I think you'll want to sleep after all that happened."

No one objected, and followed the order mutely.

~0~

They dropped of Percival at cabin six; the gray cabin that was filled with so many kids looking a lot like each other it was almost freaky. Then they walked around the cabins since Ray's cabin, cabin eleven, was on the other side of the camp.

Cabin eleven looked like the most used cabin out of all the twelve. Its brown paint was peeling off, and the walls looked worn down. The caduceus symbol above the doorway was rusted, akin to the bronze number '11' above it. Simply put, it definitely had seen better days.

Ray stepped inside, and the interior were hardly any different. The walls and the paint held similarities as the exterior- dilapidated and old. There were plenty of sleeping bags on the floor, at least two dozens of them. And the kids inside were plenty, more than the bunk beds on the sides of the cabin could provide.

And said kids stood to attention and bowed respectfully when Chiron appeared behind the doorway. Of course, in his final form, he was definitely too tall for the door, so he was chillin' outside.

"Cabin eleven," he announced, "This is Ray Jackson."

No one said anything. Ray was wondering whether or not he should say something, but Chiron beat him to it.

"He is undetermined."

The kids didn't want to show disrespect for Chiron, but Ray could see some groaning or sighing silently in exasperation. What the Hell did 'Undetermined' meant? He doubted it meant that he was someone who had a weak willpower.

"With that out of the way." Chiron looked down at him. "Make yourself comfortable, Ray. We'll see each other again at dinner."

Just like that, the old one galloped away from the cabin, back to the (irritatingly uncreatively named) Big House.

Ray turned around again, and saw that the campers stopped bowing. Instead, they started to appraise him silently. Gauging him. Other times, he would've cared about being stared at by two dozen plus pairs of eyes at the same time, but now he could barely make himself bothered by it. He wanted to sleep, dammit.

One girl who was somewhat older than the rest stepped forward from the crowd. She let her blonde hair fall freely to her shoulders, her tanned skin indicated either she excercised a lot and/or lived near the sea, and she had the vibe of someone who could steal things just because they could (he would know). But Ray wasn't worried. He literally didn't bring anything with him aside from the hoodie and clothes on his skin.

"Well, welcome to cabin eleven." She grinned at him. "I'm Adrianne. Your current counselor. You're one of us now, I guess."

Ray raised an eyebrow at the specific word choice. "'Current'?"

"You're undetermined," Adrianne started to explain, and the rest of the campers returned to whatever they were doing before, though not a few kept glancing at him. Probably the eyes. "That means no one's got a clue on who's your godly parent is. Your parentage is undetermined, but Hermes accepts everyone here. The undetermined ones stay here."

"Until I'm claimed."

"Yep."

"I guess the amount of time until I'm claimed is undetermined as well?"

"Yes." Adrianne grinned wider. "You catch on quick."

"I assume you must catch on things quickly if you're a demigod," Ray said dryly.

"Heh. I'm sure you'll live a long time. You can sleep on the floor right there, by the way."

Ray nodded thanks, and the counselor went outside. He just walked over to the spot where she pointed before, and prepared to sleep when he realized he had forgotten one crucial part in his plan of going to sleep; he had nothing to sleep on, except the floor.

He was seriously considering sleeping on the hard, cold (and ridiculously dirty) floor, when someone threw something soft at his back. He turned around, and saw the reteating back of Percival, who muttered blearily, "Go find your own toothbrush."

Ray grinned. He wanted to thank him, but his friend was already gone before he could get over his surprise. He knew that the German kid was always prepared, but not to the point that he'd know that Ray wouldn't get a bed to sleep on.

So, Ray laid his sleeping bag on his spot, but he still felt incomplete, and he didn't like feeling incomplete. Then he realized that he had no toiletries at all. Not even soap, shampoo, and, yes, toothbrush.

Bah. More work before he could get some rest, it seemed. But where could one get those things in here, anyway? And how could he get it? He didn't have any money on him.

After asking around, he now knew that he could buy all the aforementioned items from the camp shop, but as he feared, he would need money for it. And if that wasn't bad enough, US dollars were invalid there. He'd need money known as 'Drachmas', which apparently was the thing people used back in the age of gods.

Obviously he had none of that too. Time to ask for some favors, then.

Ray looked around.

He didn't want to ask kids who were older than him since they would most probably reject his request, so that left a dozen left; the kids who were around his age, not too old, nor too young. Now, to find which one.

One, who was trying to steal a golden coin from someone's bag, then one more who was pushing a whoopee cushion under someone's pillow, another who was trying to drop a small frog to someone's bottle, then a kid who was-

Ray stopped observing the campers around him and sighed. Seriously, he knew that Hermes was the God of Thieves, but he didn't know he was supposed to be the God of Pranks. He'd need to separate the pranksters from the thieves to know the ones he could ask.

He was tempted to go to the coin thief, but as soon as the kid got his Girl Scouts cookie-sized prize, he cackled and ran out of the cabin. Ray held back another sigh. Well, that went one of his last hope that prevented him from sleeping with sweaty clothes.

The rest were pranksters, so Ray merely gave them a glance to look at the next. Half of them were sleeping. Then one caught his eyes.

A girl, looking to be close around his age with long black hair, pulling out a chocolate bar out of an older camper's pocket who was busy chatting with another camper beside her. After she got it, she grinned, before going to her own sleeping bag and consumed it.

Hmm, yes, she looked promising indeed.

Ray approached her, and the girl blinked at him, smears of chocolate on her cheeks and brown smudges at the tips of her fingers, with a quarter of a chocolate bar in her hands. In a way, Ray was impressed. The pickpocketing only happened around ten seconds ago.

"Um... can I help you?" she asked hesitantly, not bothering to wipe the chocolate off her face. She stared at him, most probably because of his odd purple eyes.

"You can help by cleaning your face." Ray handed her one of the tissues he kept in his pockets. Gods know how messy Percy could be after eating something. "And I want you to do something for me."

She wiped her face and her fingers with it, scowling for being told at but knowing he was right anyway. A feeling he knew all too well but with the girl being him and him being his mother. Afterward, she handed the tissue back, still looking annoyed.

Ray took it back to store it, planning to throw it away later.

"What do you want?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"A toothbrush and tube of toothpaste would be nice," Ray answered, ignoring her tone. "Along with a bottle of soap and shampoo. Oh, a new shirt and a pair of pants as well."

"What do I look like, a maid? Go buy them yourself." She turned around to finish her chocolate- er, stolen chocolate.

"I don't have any money-"

"Not my problem," the girl mumbled just loud enough for him to hear.

Ray inwardly sighed. "-so that's why I want to ask you to steal those things for me."

That caught her attention. She turned around again, a glint in her eyes. "Steal?"

"Yep. I want you to steal the things I mentioned before from the camp store."

"And what do I get in return? You don't have any money."

"A favor for a favor," Ray replied without missing a beat. "You help me, and in return I will help you with whatever it is you need. Of course, the task must still inside the realm of possibilities a ten-year old unclaimed demigod."

The girl seemed to consider this for a moment. "Why do I have to help you?"

"You don't." Ray shrugged. "If you don't, then I'll ask someone else."

"...Fine." She stood up after a moment of hesitation, dusting her CAMP HALF-BLOOD t-shirt off. "But one item for one favor."

Six items meant six favors. Not too hard, he supposed. "Just remember, within the rea-"

The girl rolled her eyes. "The realm of possibilities, yeah, whatever. You speak like a cabin six kid."

"My best friend is a cabin six kid, and he speaks like this a lot I actually forgot some normal words."

The edges of her lips quirked upwards. "You help me with something first, and then I'll steal a toothbrush for you."

"Just let it be something that would count as multiple aids. I don't want to brush my teeth with only water."

Now the small quirking of lips turned into a grin, and she walked outside the cabin, motioning him to follow her.

Outside, Ray found her staring at cabin five, the blood red one filled with huge muscle-bound kids. He could hear the booming of rock music blaring from the cabin even from here.

"So..." he drawled. "What do you want?"

The girl looked at him. "Do you know Joshua?"

"No."

"Well, sooner or later, you will. He's the biggest Ares kid around, and likes taking money from us 'cuz we're younger."

Ray shrugged. "Then it's a good thing I don't have any money."

"Then he'll give you a black eye," the girl said dryly. "And he won't hold back just 'cuz we're younger."

"What does this have anything to do with my help?"

"Well." She frowned. "He took my money."

Ray sighed.

"Oh, don't be like that. You know this is gonna happen sooner or later."

"I believe I said within the range of possibilities."

"Yeah, the range of a ten-year old unclaimed demigod," she shot back. "And by your attitude, I think you're a kid of Athena. So you can definitely show that jerk that he's not boss."

She was wrong, obviously. But if acting like this made people think he was a child of Athena instead of Poseidon then it would do more good than harm.

"Fine..." he groaned. "How much does this cost?"

She thought over this critically. "Three." She decided. "One, I want my money back. Two, he's a jerk that needs to know his place. And three, I want to know what can you do."

"I want a shirt, a pair of pants, and a bottle of soap."

"Deal."

"Shake on it?" he held a hand out.

"Sure."

Holding her hand, Ray was somewhat fascinated to find that her hand was soft. He thought that somebody who pickpocket things often would have more calloused hands. More knowledge to add, he supposed, no matter how mundane that was.

After that, Ray walked over to cabin five, possibilities whirling around his mind. With his- albeit novice- illusions, things would be easier, but only if he knew which buttons to press. And not just make this 'Joshua' angry, but also to lower his ego down. Maybe humiliate him? What in the name of the Olympians could make a child of the God of War angry, he wondered.

Ray reached cabin five, and the rock song assaulted his ears relentlessly. Huge, mean-looking kids wandered around the blood-red cabin, chatting (trash-talking) or wrestling among themselves. One stood out, for he loomed over the other Ares kids, with a height around six foot tall.

That could be Joshua.

"Yo, Joshua! You hear there's a new kid in eleven?" one Ares kid slapped the huge guy's shoulder, grinning.

Definitely Joshua.

"Yeah, yeah. Hear he's got purple eyes!" another kid butted in.

"Purpl' eyes?" Joshua raised an eyebrow, voice thick with a Southern accent. "Think tha's real?"

As the kids around Joshua voiced their opinions, Ray walked around the cabin, an idea forming in his mind. Behind, just as he hoped, were several other Ares kids, apparently preparing a prank, evident by the amount of rotten eggs around them and the glances at their neighbour, cabin seven- the shiny, golden cabin.

Ray ignored their plan- it wasn't any of his problem. Instead, he chose one target, and used the Mist once more to imagine himself to look like his target. Slowly, he imagined his jet black hair turned to a dark brown, his mutated purple eyes turned to blue, and his body-build became larger, similar to fit fifteen year old.

When he believed his transformation complete, Ray grinned and headed to the nearest thing that could provide a reflection. Looking down upon the puddle of water, he was pleased with himself to see how similar he was to his target. The illusion was still a bit foggy and unfocused, but nothing that someone would see without looking at him closely.

Smirking, Ray dismissed his illusion, and his ordinary purple-eyed reflection smirked back at him.

~0~

Ray walked back to cabin eleven, his hands in his hoodie pockets. The girl was grinning, looking at commotion at cabin five. In her hands were the things they had agreed upon; a new bar of soap, an orange, M sized CAMP HALF-BLOOD t-shirt, and a pair of short cargo pants. But with those things was also a small bottle of shampoo.

"Not that I don't want it, but why are you bringing that shampoo with you?" Ray asked.

The girl ignored his words, and turned at him, the pleased grin still plastered on her face and mirth in her eyes. "That was brilliant! I had no idea you can use Mist!"

Ray shrugged, trying to look that it really was nothing, while inside he was feeling really damn proud. He handed the bags of golden drachmas over to her. "Oh, that was pretty easy."

The plan was simple. Posing as the brunet son of Ares, Ray threw a rotten egg at Joshua's back. The bully's shock quickly became anger, and with an enraged Joshua behind his illusioned self, Ray purposefully bumped to the guy he was imitating.

With a grin, Ray ran around him and around the cabin. The guy looked seriously weirded out by a copy himself running into him and then running away, but the face was nothing compared to when he saw Joshua's fist heading to him.

As the two brawled, Ray returned, but now in a murky Joshua's form, though nobody seemed to notice (Ray mentally noted this : 'Children of Ares don't seem to be the brightest of the bunch'). He scooped up several more rotten eggs, ignoring the two campers fighting and cursing, and hurled them to many Ares kids, leading them to where Joshua and the guy was brawling, before turning back to himself.

Then he just watched as the entire Ares cabin beat Joshua into the point of unconsciousness, before turning himself into a random guy, which was easier because he didn't need to copy anyone and he only needed to rely on his imagination, and looted every money and golden coin he found within the Ares cabin.

"Here's your reward, illusionist." The girl grinned, dumping the entire thing in her arms to his. "The shampoo is a bonus, for catching me off-guard."

Ray smiled. "Thanks. I don't think we have properly met yet. I'm Ray Jackson, child of an undetermined god or goddess."

The girl smirked. "Well said. I'm Alexa Clayton, daughter of Hermes."

"Nice to meet you, Alexa Clayton. Now, I'm still missing a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. What do you have in mind?"

The sinister look on her face temporarily made him wonder if he just helped someone worse than Joshua.

"Oh, I have several things in my mind."