Zero from Yashahime inspired the beginning of this chapter.

As well as Circe's wand in the myths... and the Caduceus and the Trident and Riptide and the Scythe! Oh and the Thyrsus that Dionysius uses.

Short but impactful.

Aaron wanted to cry, he rarely felt that way but right now he was flooded with the sensation of utter joy and shock so strong it was overwhelming his raw control. In his hands, granted to him by Medusa and Sally, was a gift that he knew would change everything. A gift that would allow him access to greater offensive and defensive magic, combat magic.

What was this gift, this might tool that would change his life?

A Staff, one he had designed many moons ago and Sally had seen in his personal grimoire sparking her interest in magic. It was at his shoulder in height and the color of rust. It had sigils etches around it with decorates of vines climbing it. It was a straight pole until it reached the top in which it had a dull four-sided spike that almost looked like a torch. On each side was a sigil for power, vessel and channel in the language of magic.

It was perfect, he felt strong magic resonating in it's wood, and he knew it would help elevate him greatly.

"How did you make this, without me knowing?" Aaron asked the two amazing new witches, both of whom were smirking with pride.

Sally spoke first. "I knew of your designs, but I also knew that you would never get the chance to make it since you were so busy. I told Medusa, who was so eager to repay you that she helped me. We commissioned the Hephaestus kids to carve the staff from rowan, your favorite wood, and carve into it your runes and beautiful designs. Medusa and I cast ritualistic spells to enchant it, charging it with power. It is not technically done, you can add to it as you like, but we gave it the power to channel and store magic, as well as be resistant to damage and not rot. That was the most we could do at this point, but with your skills as they are growing, you should be able to add to it as you feel the need."

Medusa nodded pride in her every feature. "Percy had Riptide, Annabeth has her hat. In battle, you have severe disadvantages, you are mortal and your magical energies are limited. Yes, you have spell pouches, but having a focus to fight with is hugely needed. This is our gift to you, to thank you for you help. A means to make you a battle mage." "He nodded, shaking with gratitude.

"It has four other features." They all turned to see Dionysius, who was approaching them with his Thyrsus in hand. "They asked me about my Thyrsus, for inspiration. The first is that it will always return to you, not unlike Riptide, Hephaestus' cabin easily added that enchantment after studying that blade. All you need to do it channel your magic through it.

The second is that it can hurt monsters as it is magical, almost as much as divine metals. Third and most important, and quite unintentional, since it is made of Rowan a protective element, it will naturally create barriers. To what extent depends on the power stored in it. It will naturally absorb energy from you as you wield it, and from nature, within natural limits. Last and least interestingly, it will never be noticed much by mortals, that easiest of enchantments but needed to ensure you do not lose it. The Mist will protect it.

Do not lose this, child, for I foresee that without it you will fall in battle. This will be what allows you to sustain yourself in the world of monsters and gods. Rituals and Spell bags will help you only so much, if combat is a part of your life, this will be what keeps you alive. Treasure it."

Nodding, he hugged the two ladies, then bowed to Dionysius. " Thank you, all of you... I cannot express how much this means to me." His mind whirled with countless ideas, means to upgrade his new weapon, to make it stand out more, make it more dangerous, facilitate greater powers... the first thing he would add it a Teleportation feature, to send him home. Hestia's book had a spell for that, but it was tricky. "Now, I guess, with my new blade, it is time to depart..."

And like that, he marched out of the Camp where Argus drove him into New York City Proper. He would end up taking the train once more, this time to Buffalo, and later a bus, all the way to Jamestown, New York...

The place he grew up... and the place he feared most.

The place his family still lived...

:::

Jamestown, New York

"Ure, o flamma deorum, hunc humilem servum ad clypeum meum duc." Aaron whispered into the fire in his hands. Domestic magic, the Style of magic Hestia wielded, was oddly good at tracking in a way that was only second to Artemis' magic due to the empathic connection of that style of magic. " Lead me to Bryce Michaels." He whispered into the flames, and suddenly the fire in his hands burned brighter red in that instant, before fluttering off into a ribbon of fire, draining him of around a third of his power but holding fast otherwise. He followed it for around an hour, in the soft rain of that day, until he was led to a house by the local lake. "I feel a strong presence, very warlike but also sort of like Percy's aura it feels of the sea... odd."

He would have knocked on the door had it not been for the two Snake women that rushed out of the house with a very large boy carried between them and an unfamiliar but also large Hispanic Demigod at their back looking quite smug. He was armed with a celestial bronze blade, a substance that would not harm Aaron given that he had magic.

Aaron knew he had to act, before they took his target, and so he moved, armed with magic and his new staff, toward the enemies before him.

Throwing out a spell bag he always now had in his hoodie pocket, he called out his favorite spell. "Stulti carceris." As always, a ripple of purple energy rushed out stopping all movement of the monsters draining most of Aaron's magic, but oddly not binding the demigod enemy behind them. The boy's aura was strong, so likely he burned through the spell...

The boy, the barely conscious seaish demigod he was there to save, collapsed and groaned. The Hispanic demigod on the other hand smirked and rushed him, swinging his blade. Aaron blocked with his staff ( It held up perfectly, not a single cut), which pulsed out a teeny wave of energy that pushed out like a reverse magnet and forced the boy's blade away suddenly giving Aaron the chance to smash the staff into the boy's chin before drop kicking him in the stomach hard. The boy groaned, bending over in time to be kneed in the chin.

Aaron was no Demigod, not a child of war, but he was a big boy that hit hard and had demigod training. He was no slouch.

"Your just mortal, you won't win Aaron!" The boy growled and Aaron realized that the boy was Chris Rodrigez, a boy left in the Hermes cabin that vanished after summer ended. Aaron had never given the boy much thought, they never even spoke, he only knew him in passing from Castor and Pollux.

Aaron sighed, feeling sort of bad, the boy was clearly a son of Hermes, one abandoned by his father. "That doesn't matter, I am here to save Bryce, and you won't get in my way!"

Risking it, he channeled all of his remaining magic, ( leaving only enough to stay conscious) and shot it through his staff. The protective magic of Rowan took instant effect and blasted Chris away as he charged, sending him smashing into the wall, knocking him out...

Sadly, not before his Celestial Bronze sword had managed to carve a nasty path across Aaron's arm as the boy swung. The pain was intense, immense and agonizing, the metal's magic seared his essence, but he did not focus on it. Rushing and limping towards Byrce, who was regaining consciousness, he grabbed his arm. He awakened his silver sword, and handed it to the boy. "Hold this and run with me, we have to hurry to safety. My spell is about to break."

To his shock, Byrce twirled and cut off both Snake women's head, breaking his spell. "That is what they get for attacking me... now we can go. They have a boat, we can steal that."

And so they went, hurrying away, with Aaron trying and failing to patch up his wound as they hurried onto the boat in question, a tiny motorboat. He held out and gave Bryce one of the Camp's address cards, his hands shaking and his vision blurring. "We have to... to... get... get to Camp Halfblood... Long Island Sound..." Only for the magic and blood loss to kick in and the Realm of Morpheous took his soul into endless darkness.

Chapter end, tell me what you think in the reviews.

This was a joy to write. This was an idea I have had for days, but could not help but want to use for.

Love, your Ninja Overlord,

Mika.