What Chiron called the "rowdy bunch" was really just a handful of campers. Apparently, most campers don't stay year-round, but some do. Without knowing how, I find myself at the Hermes Cabin without any direction. Most of the cabins appear deserted, and their facades are impeccable.
"Your sense of direction is amazing, like a child of Poseidon at sea," Chiron notes.
"May I ask what are those cabins down there?" I ask.
"Those are the Big Three Cabins," Chiron explains. "Those remain mostly unused. Since the end of World War II, there have been few new demigod children of Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades. They made an oath to not have more children, but it was forcibly shattered with the first Great Prophecy of this century. Suddenly, six new Big Three demigods emerged. Regrettably, two of them are no longer with us."
"All eight of my great-grandparents were World War II veterans!" I exclaim. "But what did the gods have to do with this?"
"World War II started as a spat between Zeus and Hades," Chiron states. "Then, as the conflict progressed, the sons of Poseidon took note and began fighting for Zeus's children. Pretty soon, all of Europe and beyond was engulfed in war."
"What about my mother?" I ask. "She's Chinese."
"China fought for the Allies, didn't she? Well, I met Chiang Kai-shek when he trained here in the 1910's. He was a son of Zeus. At the same time, Camp Jupiter, our then-rival camp for Roman demigods, hosted Mao Zedong, a son of Pluto, and Hirohito, son of Bellona. They once had a temporary location in China for less-privileged demigods. Seeing who ultimately won that sequel conflict, I'd say Camp Jupiter was quite smart."
"Are many such famous figures demigods?" I ponder aloud.
"You would know their names if I said them," Chiron responds.
"I heard from Julian Hebert that there is a twice Hero of Olympus who went here," I respond. "I presume he is one of the sons of Zeus?"
"Actually, that one, he is a son of Poseidon," Chiron answers. "That boy was something. His name is Perseus Jackson, Percy for short."
Chiron momentarily casts a wistful glance into the distance, then continues.
"He was about your age when he came here almost a decade ago. The big fiasco that year was that Zeus's lightning bolt was stolen. He brought a Satyr, the current Lord of the Wild, and his now-girlfriend, the Architect of Olympus, with him on his first quest."
Those were some big shoes to fill for any demigod.
"Perseus was such a lost kid. He had just seen his mother get abducted before his eyes. He was out on a quest almost as soon as he got here. At that moment, everyone accused Hades of orchestrating the whole ordeal, when it was actually the Titan Kronos. The trio took a trip across the entire country to Los Angeles to recover the Master Bolt. He succeeded, of course, but that was the least of his worries. For the next six years since then, he has endured two entire wars, countless dangerous quests, and even survived the depths of Tartarus. He has finally found a chance to settle down, and he certainly deserves it. He attends New Rome University in Camp Jupiter, and he's currently a senior majoring in marine biology. At age 21, he is as lively as ever, but one look in his sea-green eyes should tell you where he's been. I'd hate to bring him back here to meet you, but the Fates have no mercy, and we'll need him to train you."
"Julian also mentioned fighting in another war involving Gaea," I state, almost questioning.
"Perseus and six other demigods, a team of Greeks and Romans, sailed for several months and fought in Europe. The first events of the war involved Hera trading Percy for Jason, the then-leader of Camp Jupiter, to complete tasks for each camp. For eight months, we had no clue what was happening. When we finally got everyone in one place, something possessed Leo Valdez, the mechanic who built the Argo II, their ship. It caused him to attack Camp Jupiter. A civil war occurred here in the United States while the Argo II sailed Europe. Eventually, we came to a peace agreement as Gaea began to wake."
"Apollo mentioned Jason's sacrifice," I say. "I assume he is one of the demigods no longer with us."
Chiron nods solemnly, then points towards a statue on a hill. It is a shiny gold. A warlike woman with a spear and shield holds another smaller humanoid in her right hand. I then realize I am looking upon the goddess Athena.
"That is the Athena Parthenos. It was lost since Roman times. Annabeth Chase, the Architect of Olympus and a daughter of Athena, recovered it. It took a daughter of Bellona, the Roman war goddess, and a son of Hades to bring it back and bring peace to both camps."
"How does Athena have children?" I question. "Isn't she a maiden goddess?"
"I think any Athena camper can answer that for you," Chiron says simply.
I make myself present at the Hermes cabin.
"Regular or undetermined?" a camper, presumably the counselor, calls out. He has sandy blond hair and blue eyes. He's tall and lanky, like he's built for speed. A six sense tells me he's an excellent pickpocket, but then I remember Hermes is the God of Thieves.
"Indeterminate," Chiron answers.
"What's that supposed to mean?" the counselor asks.
"You'll see as you attempt to train him, Conner."
The rest of that day was a long and difficult endeavor. I manage to beat some Hermes campers in a foot race, shoot six bulls-eyes at once with one draw, beat an Ares camper in a sword fight while completely unarmed, row a canoe without a paddle, win a singing and music contest against an Apollo camper, and do makeup better than any Aphrodite camper. I never thought I'd thank my mother for making me an Asian stereotype, but today, I did. By the end of the day, I am tired, and everyone else at camp is exasperated.
The dinner pavilion is quite nice to say the least. The food here is excellent, and quite healthy. Everyone sacrifices food to a god, but I have no clue who is right for me. Since he did save me today, I make my choice.
"Apollo, my ancestor, please accept my humble offering."
I drop a slice of roast beef, a few strawberries (seriously, these are everywhere), and the most well-buttered breadstick on my plate into the shrine. A pleasant gold smoke billows out. My mouth waters at the scent. It smells better than the smoke TNT leaves after a nice day of at the demolition derby.
"Now I know what they mean by 'indeterminate,' Arthur," my counselor, Conner, says to me.
"If it were up to appearance, I'd say you're a son of Hades. Those black eyes say it all. But, you are as much of a jack-of-all-trades as any Hermes camper, as crafty as any son of Hephaestus, and you're better at archery than literally every Apollo camper here. You did mention being a legacy of Apollo and Mr. D, but they also say you're their descendant from both their Greek and Roman aspects? Whatever family tree tangled to make you must look like a rope!"
"Anyway, I have the perfect plan for Arthur to execute," another Hermes camper, Horatio, begins. "Since Arthur clearly has a lot of skills, I wonder if he's any good at magic."
I show them my vast library of card tricks, coin tricks, and other small pieces of petty magic. With a little bit of thought, I learned how to control the Mist today, enhancing their effects.
"Sweet, Arthur," Horatio says. "Want to prank a god?"
"Beats anything I've done all week," I reply.
That night, Conner, Horatio, a few other Hermes campers, and I sneak into the strawberry fields when it was supposed to be light's out. As the campers quickly picked at a strawberry plant, I capture the image of a bare plant in my mind. Then, focusing on what it would look like wilted, I project the image onto the plant. Soon, the entire field of berries looked like that to me. I snap my finger, and the trick of the Mist is complete. Afterwards, I feel a bit drained, as though I used a lot of strength to pull off such a simple trick.
The next day, I wake to the sight of an absolutely livid centaur and an impossibly confused god of wine.
"Arthur Romanchuk!" Chiron bellows. "Come forth this instant!"
I step out towards the pair of disgruntled camp directors.
"What did you do? You managed to knock out an entire half a year worth of revenue for the camp! First day here, and those Hermes campers have made you a troublemaker."
"Chiron, I am confused," says Dionysus. "The plants, they are not dead. I can feel the fruits still on the bushes. But this magic, it's beyond a simple trick of the Mist. I can still see them if all Arthur did was that."
Chiron's angry expression falters, then his eyes widen as though he had solved the world's hardest integral.
"Arthur, what did you do?" he questions sternly.
"I thought I only did a trick of the Mist," I snap my fingers to prove that, but the illusion stayed. It's as though everyone else is blindfolded, for I can still see the lush strawberry fields. "Huh, let me try that again."
I snapped again, this time concentrating my strength onto lifting the illusion. The fields slowly returned to their lushness. Then, being hit with a sweet aroma, I suddenly realize I had also taken away the smell of the berries. The other campers present suddenly take note. Soon, a sea of wide eyes stares back from the crowd.
"I think we discovered another one of his godly ancestors," Mr. D declares.
"Who?"
"Dolos, or Mendacius, God of Trickery."
Suddenly, I see my vision fade to black and feel my back crash against the stone path.