Chapter Two

On the Subject of Names

Its lips parted into a giant grin.

They curled back slowly and revealed a ridge of rotting gums and long yellow fangs. For a moment, its eyes locked with mine. He laughed again. His voice raced through me, stirring up ancient, primeval things.

Knowledge suddenly came to me. A word surfaced in my subconscious, a word I had never heard before. AETERNAE. The word locked like a missing puzzle piece pressed into place. It felt powerful.

"AETERNAE!" I yelled stepping backwards. "That's what you are. Aeternae!" The creatures stopped. They now looked genuinely surprised. Even Hazel looked startled. Her voice cut into the intensity of the moment like a blunt knife. "Is this another thing I won't understand? because, at the moment, I am struggling to comprehend what just happened."

"Probably." I retorted. Just then, The creatures growled as one, the deep vibrations shaking the ground. It was a terrible noise. Even though I didn't see any change come over the creatures, Hazel gasped. She suddenly drew her sword, and remarked,"Honestly, I thought the mohawks looked better."

This helped clue me in that they had finally shown their true forms to her, although she didn't look as if she had lost any of her fighting spirit.

The lead creature spoke up, staring directly at me. "I'd hate to kill such an intelligent demigod. After all, you're the first person in centuries to remember our name." His black eyes were suddenly seized with a boundless fury. "But that name is our curse, and I'd rather you not mention it again." He snarled, and crouched, ready to pounce.

He would go for Hazel first. Then me. I knew it, the creature's thought blasted into my head. I turned and threw myself onto Hazel, she yelped, and we toppled over sideways, and rolled rapidly into the tunnel. From the corner of my eye I saw the leaping figure of the Aeternae land in the spot Hazel had just been in, and howl with rage. The dust and concrete flew back into place as we tumbled into the cavern. Every hole caused by the collapse filled itself, and every bit of dirt and rock fixed itself into its proper position. It looked like there had never been a hole there at all.

Hazel, and I slowly picked ourselves up from the ground. She dusted herself off sheepishly. "Thanks. Without you, I probably wouldn't be here. I've died before, and it wasn't fun." I stared, dumbstruck. "Haha, you're very funny,'' I said, as I meticulously scrubbed the dirt from my ragged clothing. "I'm serious," She replied, laughing.

After a few minutes of confused thought I came to a monumental conclusion. "That might explain something."

"Explain what?"

"Why I can't read you."

I had said it. . . I had never told anyone before. "Read me?" she inquired incredulously. "I⎯⎯ I, uh guess I should probably explain it to you."

"Yeah, you should. And you pretty much have all the time until we get to the Camp to do it, which should be around an hour or two. So take your time."

I hesitated for a moment, and then my mouth seemed to open of its own accord, and the whole mess tumbled out. I told her of the knowledge that came unceasingly into my consciousness, and how when I listen to someone's voice, the entirety of the person, and their life was unveiled before me. As if the barrier between soul and body had been sundered, allowing the essence of the person to rush out, and reveal itself. I told her of the friends that I had made, while never speaking a word. I told her of the monsters, unable to prevent me from seeing their true forms, who, for years, I had been able to avoid. I told her of the starless nights, the dark vault of the sky cloudy and overcast. Lonely, yet familiar with the lives of all.

I told her of the screaming that often haunted my sleep, keeping me on my toes, ready for anything. And I told her of the unbearable tourture of losing, to the hands of death, people I had never known. And how, although I had never known them before, I knew them in an instant, a terrible instant, and how in that instant, I knew them better than they would ever know themselves. And last of all, I told her of my fears. Of forgetting the children, who shared a connection to me in some way that I had yet to understand.

It was my greatest fear that one day, I would forget their names, and they would become water under the bridge. Although it was a terrifying experience, their deaths, it had become a large piece of my life, terrible, but integral. They could not be forgotten, they had been here too, once. And they had been full of life.

My eyes were swelling with tears, they slid down my cheek. My heart was pounding, but it was large, and filled with joy. No one had ever heard what I could do, no one had ever known the plagues of my existence, or my fears, or really anything about me. It felt like I had come into a bright sunlight, and all of the darkness, and despair were but shadows, now dissipating in the radiant glow.

Hazel had stopped walking. She seemed to be deep in thought. After a few moments, she said. "This is strange, very strange."

"Yeah, thanks."

"No, no, that's not what I mean. I'm just unsettled by the purity of the power. Usually, when a god has an affair with a mortal, only a projection of their power is present in their children⎯⎯"

"Wait. A god, having an affair with a mortal?"

"Yes, that's exactly it. I will have to discuss this with the praetor." She was still in a state of deep thinking.

"The Praetor?"

"The president of the camp, basically."

"Oh." She then looked me firmly in my eyes, and a look of utter compassion came over her.

"Us, other demigods I mean, have sad stories, but, this⎯⎯"

"Demigods?" I inquired, looking at her with a supercilious expression on my face. "You really didn't explain that part earlier." She quickly answered, "Half human, and half god. Like Perseus, Theseus, Achilles,⎯⎯ Jason." She stopped here and her eyes welled with tears. When her tears subsided, she looked at me again and said confidently, "Anyway, as I was saying before, other demigods have had bad experiences too, but yours is beyond any that I have ever heard. And your ability, it's powerful, and that's saying something, considering the amount of powerful demigods there are. But to have to go through something like that, quite often, that's certainly an ordeal." She paused, and after a minute, she spoke again. This time, her words frightened me. "What can I call you?"

I came to an abrupt halt. I felt betrayed. "Weren't you listening?" I whispered."If I forget their names. . ." I trailed off, and tried not to think of the consequences. "As a matter of fact, I did listen, and you won't have to forget them." Hazel retorted. "We can put the names in the Camp Records so they will never, ever, be forgotten."

"Are you sure?" I said weakly. I couldn't argue with what she said, but still, the names were an enormous part of my life, a task that I had dedicated myself to for five years. And now, at eleven, it was difficult to terminate it, even if it could be done better, and kept longer than I could have ever dreamed of.

A battle raged in my heart, it was torn between two choices; to let others carry on the memory of the many children that died in the alleys of San-Francisco, or to go to my grave and let the memories die with me. Hazel smiled, "Yes, I'm very sure." She nodded, took my shoulder, and gave me a reassuring shake. "So, what can I call you?"

A flurry of emotions rose up within me. My body felt light, and ethereal. Tears flooded from my eyes, and sobs racked my chest, and I drew in deep breaths that made my whole body shudder. I had never⎯⎯ never experienced love, and not the romancey kind, this was different. This was the love of family, the love of someone who cared, the love of someone who wanted my life to be everything a life could be. She wanted the best for me.

Even though at the time I did not understand the emotions I was experiencing, they affected me all the same. They were raw, and untamed, and came in a tidal wave. Wonderful, and terrible they were, penetrating the darkest depths of my heart, and filling me with a great joy.

And yet. . . Even after I thought for a long time, I still didn't know what to call myself. I thought, and thought, and thought, but still came up empty. But then I thought of something, something I would never have thought of in any other situations. My words shook as I spoke, but they came out all the same. "I⎯⎯ I want you to choose for me."

"Okay, I'll try to think of something, but we should try to get to Camp as soon as possible, it's almost dark." I nodded, and we resumed our journey. Hazel didn't speak for nearly an hour, and I didn't feel like disturbing the silence.

The walls of the sewer seemed to go on endlessly, archway after archway, each section uniform to the last, until we came to a room larger than the one we had left an hour before. Its Towering ceiling rose high above us, and what seemed like ancient pieces of art stretched gloriously across it. It was as if Michaelangelo's Sistine Chapel artwork had a twin that no one knew of. The paintings were astounding, each brush stroke perfectly placed, figures beautiful, and mysterious entwined above us, Gods, and monsters, myths and legends that seemed to come to life in the vaulting sky that was so painstakingly crafted. My mouth fell open. "What is this place?"

"It's the temple of Minerva, the Goddess of, wisdom, and arts."

"It's amazing, who made all of this?"

"I believe it was a very old generation of campers, Minerva herself came down, and granted, to a specific few, great skills, and talent for artistry. After this, she gave to the camp a plan with which they were to erect her temple "

"I didn't even know it existed until a few weeks ago, It was buried in the side of one of the hills that surround the Camp. I've kept it a secret, until now."

"Why did it go out of use?"

"I've been trying to figure it out. There is no record of it ever having officially gone out of use. My only guess is that someone was misusing the temple, and no one was doing anything about it. Minerva probably had to intervene in some way, and decided that it was best to just terminate the use of it completely."

"That's disappointing⎯⎯ that she went through all that work just to have it put out of use, I mean." Hazel nodded, "It is." We stood in silence for a moment, appreciating the majesty of the place. Suddenly Hazel spoke again. "Oh, by the way, I think I found a name for you, if you'll accept it that is."

"What is it?" I asked, enthralled by the moment that might come to pass, when I would have a name. She stared down at the ground, wringing her hands. "It's⎯⎯ uh, Jason."

Jason. Jason. Jason. . . I rolled the words around in my mouth. From them, a person emerged, it was myself, strong, and brave. It felt like me, and I felt personified by it. It might have been that I was impatient, and just wanted a name immediately, and didn't care what it was, but in that moment, it felt like the sweetest sound that I had ever heard. I was quick to accept. "I love it⎯⎯ Hazel."

"I like it too, Jason."

We were silent for a moment, in that room. My heart seemed to grow bigger and larger with each passing second. I have a name!

And I did. I had a name. And I would never forget it.