Demigods were prone to having visions. It was one of Percy's least favorite part of the job. The night before they left, he had another one. The thing with demigod visions, was that he felt he was actually there when he experienced them.
He saw Grover, and his mind began to race. Grover was on the outside of a circle of what he could make out to be campers. The campers were draped in white sheets. His heart nearly stopped. Klan members? In the twenty-first century? Now it made sense why they chose Texas. They could take advantage of the large space with help from the Mist.
As Percy's vision began to clear up, he could see they were doing some sort of Klan ritual. He could feel the uneasiness crawl up his hairs as if he watched a horrible car accident. Time slowed down. He wanted to scream at them, but no sound came out. Right. Vision. He doesn't actually exist there.
He wanted to observe from afar, but the powers at be outright refused. He needed to see this.
All of the white shirts were standing around a large, several story high bronze eagle. Percy immediately recognized it as a symbol of Zeus. He wondered why Zeus didn't just strike them down right then and there. He had to know the negative connotations the Klan brought.
There was one that stood out from the group. He wore a purple robe, and showed his face. The man was short. Even shorter than Nico. He raised his hands in front of the eagle. Percy couldn't quite make out what he was saying, but he noticed his voice. The man's voice was much bigger than his own self. His voice boomed louder than the biggest thunderbolt Zeus could cook up.
After he finished his speech, he pointed to Grover. Percy felt his heart skip a few beats. The pounding got louder, and louder with each step his friend took. Purple Robe wrapped his arm around Grover, and shoved him towards the statue. Percy held his breath.
Another thing that he hated about visions was they only appeared when someone close to them was in danger. Percy had expected to be kicked out by now. Usually the dreams ended right before harm was done to the person. This one was shaping out to be different than the others. Percy half expected Grover to be burned by the torches that surrounded the figure. Or by one of the Klansmen. Purple Robe whispered something in Grover's ear. The satyr's face told everything. It was as if he was told a loved one had passed away. Percy's heart longed for his best friend. He knew what it was like to be put in an impossible situation. He understood completely if Grover were to commit to the ceremony.
Grover postulated himself in front of the idol. He was given a torch. Grover said something in a bastardized version of Ancient Greek. He then lit the bronze eagle on fire. The crowd of people erupted in a frenzy. They began to dance in a circle around Grove and Purple Robe. Percy felt a lump build up in his throat. Grover was just inducted into the klan.
Percy awoke in a silent fright. Sweat dripping down from all pores of his body. He needed to take a walk.
The crisp, summer night was a warm welcome for him. The smell of campfires filled him with waves of nostalgia. He longed for the days when his mother would take him to upstate New York for camping when things were going well financially. Why couldn't things be like? He had once been a young kid without a care in the world. His only worry being if a cartridge on his N64 would work, not being scared he had the chance to be killed by a stray monster.
Percy walked up the largest hill in the campsite. It was towards the entrance of camp, and he could see everything. It was a weekend, and nearly everyone was doing some kind of nighttime activity. There were tons of campfires being lit by the different cabins.
The fire triggered emotions from the vision flood back to him all at once. Percy's whole body began to feel numb. His breathing slowed to a crawl. The world began to close around him. He needed to sit down before they got worse. He put his head up against his knees. No one was allowed to know about the pain he was feeling. He thought about running away from everything. Even Annabeth. Just to retreat back to his childhood home, and forget about everything that happened ever since he turned twelve.
Percy Jackson just wanted to be normal.
He could feel what was left from his lunch resurface. If the pressure of this mission didn't drive him mad, then the vomit would surely finish him off. He was lucky the damage wasn't that much this time around. It left a small puddle-sized stain on the grass.
He felt better, but empty. He needed to eat.
What would Hedge say to him if he wasn't in bed? Percy sat, his feet glued by indecision. He thought it would be best if he stayed where he was. He had a better chance of not being spotted after everyone retired for the night.
Percy's thoughts drifted as his eyes did over the camp. What if he did leave afterword? He wondered who, if anyone would step up, because if he left then he knew Annabeth would follow. Grover? It made the most sense. He was the most experienced after the two of them. Nico was still far too young to lead the whole camp. Percy furiously scratched his head. The stress was clearly effecting his ability to think.
He thanked the gods that Annabeth wasn't there to see him in such a sorry state. He needed to be alone for the night. If they got into an argument, he would surely snap at her. Percy messed with his hair. He looked like a mess. He made a mental note to take a shower early in the morning before everyone woke up. He needed to straighten himself out somewhat before they left in just a few short hours.