That night, I arrive at the Dining Pavilion with a nice surprise. Percy's katana is among the best pieces of metalwork I have ever done. The hilt bears the symbol of Poseidon, the trident, on one side and SQPR, the abbreviation for the Camp Jupiter title of Praetor, on the other. The blade itself has channels cut in for him to test out using his water powers on. The katana can shrink down to a fountain pen when not in use. He absolutely adores this blade. I have heard the legend of his current sword, Riptide, whose alternate form inspired the discreet form of the katana.
Deciding I want to sit with the Apollo campers tonight, I line up in their line with Will Solace leading. Today, another guy is standing close to him. This guy has dark olive skin, Italian from the look of it, black hair, and the darkest pair of eyes I have ever seen. Under his eyes are slash marks, like he had recently emerged from combat. His eyes glance wearily around him before settling into what I can only say is a stare to a million miles yonder. He's wearing an outfit straight out of Hot Topic.
I help myself to baby-back ribs, a nice beef brisket sandwich, a handful of strawberries, and, rather pleasantly, beef stir-fry. I offer my food to each of the godly ancestor I know of and to Lord Zeus himself.
When I finally sit down at the table, everyone looks expectantly at me.
"Holy crap, Arthur, that was insane!" Ophelia perks up. "I couldn't believe the speed of your sword fighting with Percy. The only other people who could put up such a display against him are his girlfriend and Jason Grace."
"Don't remind me of him," the punk boy speaks up. "I don't know what has happened to his soul all these years, but it still pains me to no end."
Trying to remember all the big names at Camp Half-Blood, my mind finally settles on the right one.
"Are you the great Nico di Angelo, son of Hades?" I ask him.
"And who do we have here?" he asks back. "By your eyes, I can swear you're my brother, but I have already heard from Apollo and Percy who you are, Arthur." He turns to the rest of the table. "I intend to have a nice leave from the front line, so don't mention Jason again, people."
"I heard from Lord Zeus himself I am to be deployed to the front in four weeks' time," I state. "May I ask what exactly is going on in your father's realm?"
Nico suddenly looks very pale. His arms begin to shake.
"It's okay, babe, everything will be alright," Will coos to him. So they are dating. What other reason would a child of Hades sit here besides being lonely?
"Don't call me babe, Sunshine," Nico growls back, gaining some composure. "I'll have you respect your elder."
"You're only 89-going-on-18, what's so old about you?" Will smirks back. Whatever that means, I don't want to know.
"Don't push it, Solace," Nico answers back. "Arthur, today's really not my day. We can speak of this matter some other day."
We exchange plenty of banter over the events of today. I drain about eight or nine cups worth of clear orange Fanta from my endless goblet. I can really get used to changing the dye off my drink whenever I want. After dinner, I do my usual event on Tuesday nights, a trial of strength. I was never a power-lifting champ, but I'm no slouch either. Apparently, being a legacy of Kratos is quite a blessing.
"Attention campers!" Chiron blares out. "Instead of our usual campfire sing-along, we have a special event tonight. Make your way to the Firework Beach instead."
All the campers gather there in no time. At the beach, a small fire reveals the silhouette of eight figures. As soon as Keith Wesley, a Hephaestus camper, lights the second set of fires, their faces become visible.
I recognize Percy and Nico from before. Percy is standing in the left-middle from my view of the eight. To his right is a pretty blonde woman. Her gray eyes are piercing and intense, as though she was always making a plan. Her tan skin contrasts with the grey Berkeley shirt she is wearing. She appears to be holding hands with Percy. I realize this must be Annabeth Chase, the daughter of Athena.
Two people wearing purple Roman togas also stand at the beach. One is a tall, muscly Asian guy. His figure makes him look like a giant panda. Next to him is a small Creole girl. She has to be a New Orleanian, for I have only ever seen people that color in New Orleans. Nico stands between them and Percy.
Next to Annabeth stands a lanky Hispanic guy. The surprising amount of tone on his small body suggests he had once been quite scrawny. His face is cheerful and elfish, his hair a mess of curly wires. He wears a work uniform like that of a car mechanic. If I remember correctly, this is Leo Valdez, the shipwright of the Argo II.
Next to Leo stands two much younger ladies in silver jackets. While everyone else appears to be in their late teens or early twenties, these two look no older than sixteen. The one on the left has piercing blue eyes. Her face is sullen, and her short hair completes quite a scary demeanor. The other girl is also Hispanic, presumably Caribbean. Her long dark hair and determined face make her look like a stern platoon commander. The eight of them stand around what appears to surround what appears to be a firework display.
"Tonight, friends, we remember two important events in the histories of Camp Half-Blood and Camp Jupiter," Percy begins. "The first is the day the Argo II first took sail. Leo Valdez, please step forward and tell your tale."
Leo talks of the day the three of them met. He then talks of the encounter with the God of the North Wind and the many trials and tribulations it took before they finally rescue Hera. The leader, Jason Grace, sounded like an honorable man. It's a pity he was taken from us so soon. The third member of the quest, Piper McLean, now lives abroad and can't make it back for this night. Then, he talks about the shipbuilding process of the Argo II, which must have been beyond daunting.
"In an ironic twist of fate, today also marks three years since the death of the leader of that quest," Percy continues. "Tonight, we ask his sister to light our firework display in his honor."
The blue-eyed girl in the silver jacket steps forward. She lights a long silver arrow on fire and nocks it in her bow. With intense precision, she hits the smallest edge of the fuse. The fuse burns with a jolt and lights the entire display. An explosion of colors erupts in the sky. When the initial burst settled down, the shape of a face emerges. A bespectacled guy with blue eyes seems to wave at us from above. Each person standing at the front of the ceremony waves respectfully to the silhouette. This must be a representation of Jason.
Afterward, the campers engage in some solemn banter about the war. Hearing teens only a few years older than me talking like hardened war veterans sent a chill up my spine. As I scan the crowd, I see the eight people who hosted the ceremony. Nico and Percy beckon me to come join them.
"Guys, meet Arthur," Percy introduces. "Arthur, meet the commanders of the Gigante War. Before you are five of the seven members of the prophecy, the Lieutenant of Artemis, the Ambassador of Hades, and one of the then-commander of Camp Jupiter."
I learn each of their names one by one: Reyna, Thalia, Frank, Hazel, Leo, Percy, Nico, and Annabeth. These are all great Greek demigods of the twenty-first century. I stand among a circle of Great Powers.
"I am flattered at your appreciation of my work," Annabeth says to me. "If only old Seaweed Brain had that much respect for me."
"Shut it, Wise Girl. Your fatal flaw still hits hard to this day."
"I honestly didn't expect the Architect of Olympus to look like you," I say awkwardly. "You can pass for an airheaded Valley Girl if not for your godly parentage."
"Aren't you a quick-witted one?" Annabeth muses. "Tell me what you said to Percy about Hera's temple."
"Well, that one support beam seems super out of place," I begin. "Clearly the moment of inertia of the beam in that configuration can't possibly support that much torque from the overhang, at least not for long. Doing some quick mental calculations and rough numerical integration, I'd say you're putting at least twice as much force on it as it can comfortably hold."
"Whichever of the seven languages you speak that was, that certainly wasn't English," Frank jokes. "Parles-tu français?"
Annabeth's face flushes red. "I think I know which one you're talking about. I intentionally did that to make Hera's temple a ticking time bomb. Now that we're on much better terms, I should probably quietly fix that spot. Thank you for pointing it out and reminding me. I was such an impulsive sixteen-year-old."
"Holy Hera, Annabeth, I didn't think you had it in you," Percy smirks. "Maybe some of that kelp is sprouting in your head as well."
The couple continues to exchange playful banter throughout the night. We all spend a good while bantering about our demigod lives and what we do outside of it. As usual, just as a good day is coming, something had to take a piece of the action as well. In the distant woods, I hear the ugliest growl possible from a monster. The shadow of a cat ready to pounce extended into view. Here we go again.