To EponymousAnonymous- Thank you, I am trying to fit in some characterization now that I've gotten the ground work done. This chapter is one of those times.

I would like to give a huge thank you to EponymousAnonymous for helping me out and writing a bit of this chapter for me so I could get over my writers block. So...THANK YOU K2!

Nathan sat in the tree line, staring at the satyrs as they ran around, egged on by the joyful atmosphere, chasing the nymphs wildly. His eyes landed on a pair that stood under the cover of a pine tree with drooping branches. One he recognized immediately as Anthony, himself and the male satyr were old friends. Anthony had helped one of Nathan's younger half siblings to camp and the satyr dropped in now and then to check on them. The other satyr was definitely female, more slight and curved. Her fur was a pale brown, almost blonde. She had small horns protruding from her pale gold hair.

Nathan watched with a smile as the pair got closer before turning away, determined to give them their privacy.

"I wouldn't hope for a relationship like that too much, Gnat" A voice spat.

The son of Apollo sighed and turned to face Kleiss "Will you ever learn my name?".

Kleiss laughed before he spat on the ground and pushed himself off the tree he was perched in "I only learn the names of those who deserve them. Names hold power, you know that as well as I do".

Getting to his feet, Nathan met the older boys eyes, brown to green, "Can I help you Kleiss? Or have you just come here to wave your arrogance around in my face?".

"I've come here to share a little secret with you"

"A secret?"

"Yes"

"I'm going to regret this" Nathan mumbled before speaking clearly "Alright Kleiss, what have you got?".

"Well, a little birdie told me" Kleiss chuckled at his own pun "That a certain white haired princess wants to join her godly sister".

Nathan's eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. Was he talking about Thora? In that case godly sister must mean…"Artemis" He murmured.

"Not so oblivious as people say, are we?" Kleiss' eyes alighted in his pleasure.

Shaking his head, Nathan protested "She wouldn't Kleiss. Don't bother lying"

"I'm not lying. She told me herself. But it makes sense doesn't it? I mean everyone knows she doesn't like physical contact but have you noticed that's it's only ever boys she pushes away? You, Will, Zane. She's perfectly fine with the other girls. Aden, Helena, even Cassandra and she's known Cas no way near as long as you. Does that not tell you anything?" Kleiss' smirk grew malicious "She's already there, Gnat, It's just a matter of time. You've already lost her" Before Nathan could object, Kleiss had melded into the shadows and disappeared.

Nathan sighed and sunk down into the large roots of the tree he had been sitting on prior to Kleiss' arrival. Did Thora really want to leave camp? Leave him and all their friends? He had known she'd been slightly more distant and cut off with everyone since Andressis but was she really willing to leave everything behind? He didn't know. And he didn't like not knowing.

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A figure sat on a rickety wooden chair, back hunched as his elbows rested comfortably on his knees. His fingers were knotted together and pressed against his lips, an unmistakable aura of thoughtfulness radiated from him. The lights flickered around him and cast long shadows on the floor as the light passed the metal bars that lined the open wall behind him.

He let out a lingering sigh and he ran a hand through his peppered ginger hair. The music from outside was reduced to a dull thumping of a fragmented rhythm. He turned his head only fractionally and glanced into the darkness that smothered the corridor beside the cell he resided in. "I know you're there" His voice was almost bored.

Movement sounded from his left and he turned his upper half and was not surprised when his gaze witnessed an all too familiar white haired girl step out from the shadows.

Intense and irritated violet met bored and bold cognac brown eyes. A smirk crawled it's way onto his stubble covered chin "Well well well, look who we have here" He stood up from his seat and walked towards the bars, gripping the cold metal poles in his calloused hands. Her eyes honed in on the hard and torn skin on his fingers.

'Curious' She noted 'That a man posing as a teacher would have hands in such bad condition'

Her thoughts were interrupted as the man spoke again. "Little Thora. All grown up"

"Micra" The word left her mouth without all the loathing and resentment she craved to pour it to the brim with.

The smirk widened. "Good to know your memory hasn't been torn apart. Where's Whitescar? Doesn't the big brother want to watch over his little sister?"

Thora moved away from the bars and pulled up her own chair before sitting on it: legs crossed, hands brushing down her skirts, and face straight. "He doesn't know I'm here. Last time I saw him was at the Big House, after Everett and Clarke brought you here".

Micra raised an eyebrow "Harbouring negative feelings towards you half-brother I see" She went to retort but he wagged a finger at her as he began to pace the length of his cell "No. Don't lie to me. I saw the eagerness. The want to see your brother fall from your face as you saw me and realization dawned on you about where he went".

"So what? Last time I checked you weren't a family therapist" Thora stated as she raised her head high.

"That I am not, you are right" He stopped pacing and sat down on his chair, suddenly becoming motionless. Thora's eyes appraised him with a systematic gaze. His tongue kept darting out of his mouth and wetting his lips, a sign of nervousness perhaps? But there weren't any other signs of nervousness. No constantly moving limb, no playing with his hands, and he was perfectly comfortable making eye contact with her; he even started it. Next, she noticed, thanks to a good three to four hours in the Aphrodite cabin, his pores were open, but he wasn't sweating.

Clarity dawned on her and she reached for the cantine that sat on the belt at her waist. She threw it through a gap in the bars and towards the man opposite her and, despite his sluggish reactions, he caught the canteen and stared at her in a state of suspicious shock.

Thora quickly rolled her eyes and slouched forward, resting her chin on her palm that was comfortably sat on her knee "I haven't poisoned it, you know".

"I know" He replied, unscrewing the lid of the canteen quickly "Though you have good reason to, only everyone else in this wretched place wouldn't have bothered"

"Yeah well" Her hands wandered up to her head and began tugging on the purple ribbon that lay entwined with her ivory hair, letting her ringlets fall down her back "I'm not everyone else"

Micra took a sip before chuckling "Oh I know"

Silence settled and lingered between the two and Thora could hear the distant thump of the music from the pavillion with ease. Another thumping had joined the rhythm and Thora realized with a start that it was her heartbeat. Swallowing hard, she turned to the man in front of her and drilled her eyes into his, boring for purchase of some kind – an opening, a flaw, maybe even a telling sign if she was lucky. Finding none, she leant back a little, bringing her finger-ends up under her bottom lip. After a few short moments, she shifted her weight forwards again, steeled.

"You don't know me." The edge of Micra's lips twitched into a smug grin, and he again raised a probing eyebrow.

"Don't I? Surely you thought I could provide you with at least some answers if you were willing to come all the way down here." Thora bridled a little, but persevered.

"I wouldn't be so flattered if I were you; it's more that parties and I don't mix that well." The stubble-chinned man in front of her scoffed quietly, just audibly enough to make the hair stand up on the back of Thora's neck. His piercing eyes flicked over her face, mild amusement faintly visible in them.

"Oh Thora, don't ever play poker."

"Don't worry," she forced an over-sweet smile, "I don't waste my time with lying."

A dry chuckle broke from Micra's throat as he leant further over his lap "Likewise, Thora; neither do I." The white-haired girl narrowed her eyes.

"Then start talking." Micra's back straightened a little and he rolled his shoulders, as if he was preparing himself for a duel. Thora noted with interest as his pupils narrowed, like a predator homing in on its target.

"Now now Thora, isn't it rude to be so hasty? Only a moment ago you were adamant that I had nothing to offer you."

Skin prickling faintly, Thora replied "Perhaps I'd like to hear what you think you know about me."

Micra smiled sickeningly "Of course, Thora Duvessa Veton, the terminally curious. Have you never thought that your curiosity will be the death of you?"

"Many times." Thora retorted flatly.

The sick smile adorning his aged features turned sadistic "I know more about you than you know about yourself, Thora. Did you know your name literally means "Thunder and Lightning"? I know about your mother. How your father was drawn to her by her bold nature. How you refuse to have any contact with your mother because you feel like you're a burden she never wanted. I've seen your dreams. I have seen the deepest and most suppressed corners of your mind. I know your worst fears, your nightmares. Camp Half Blood is only a ruse, a veil to shield you from the brutality of the world. It is not your safe haven."

With every harsh truth, Thora's eyes burned with tears that she stubbornly refused to let fall. She sat, in forced torture, listening to Micra spill her secrets like he was merely reading from an open book placed conveniently in his lap.

"Your friends believe that this place will protect them in times of trouble. They are blind to the truth, but you are far more open to what is truly there. And what is hidden. In the past. In the present" His face twisted into a cruel leer "In the future".

Micra's cognac eyes did not miss the startled look she gave him, like a deer in the headlights. A callous chuckle rumbled through his chest and he threw her cantine back at her, it bounced and ricocheted off the cold floor. The sound was drowned out as Micra's chuckle turned into a booming laugh "Did you think I would not notice? I may be old but you are not the only one who passes of as a demigod these days"

"You're a-"

He cut her off, enjoying this torture "-My father may not be an Olympian, but being a son of Hypnos does have it's advantages. Once you get over the narcolepsy of course. I saw him speak to you in your dream. I know what he gave you. What curse he placed upon you and for what price. I even know how you retaliated to seeing him for the first time after it happened"

Thora bowed her head as he continued, her nails digging into the wood of her seat. "I know the horrors you saw at Andressis. The deaths, the pain, the loss. Is it all worth it?"

"Shut up" She muttered, her voice thick with emotion.

He ignored her, too delighted to see that he had finally gotten a reaction "What was this for again? All of the false truth you put yourself through? His son. That's who for. That god saw a vision of his son dying and shared it with you. He made you place your sanity on the line to protect his son, and why is that? You could have forced him out of your mind. Why did you agree to subject yourself to such anguish? Does this sacrifice run deeper that simple moral fibre? Friendship? Heritage? Power? Or love?"

"I said. Shut. Up!" Thora stood so abruptly that her chair fell backwards, marks where her nails had dug so deep clearly indented into the wood. Her anger was fierce and as she strode up to the bars containing the mad man she had come to harbour such negative feelings for, sparks began to jump from one bar to the next. "Now you listen to me, Micra. I made my decision because I have a heart. My friend needed and still needs my help and I'm going to help him" Her thing hands wrapped around the bars and her eyes glowed with heliotrope flames. Her voice was dripping with a ferocity that was uncommon for her calm nature "You may be a demigod, Micra, but you will never be one of us" The light above Micra exploded in a shower of sparks and Thora turned on her heel before striding out of the room, leaving the ginger haired demigod in darkness.

It wasn't until she reached the cool, refreshing air of the night that the overwhelming truth struck her like lightning. All the memories, thoughts and feelings that she had tried so hard to suppress over the last five years came rushing back to her all at once. With her damn breaking, she ran full pelt until she was back in the safe marble confines of cabin one.

Her legs gave out on her as she reached the middle of the cabin, she fell against the foot of the statue of her father. His cold marble eyes watched her as she finally let the tears fall. She curled in on herself and sobbed, large droplets of water rolled down her flushed cheeks in steady streams. The loud rumblings of a nearby thunderstorm filled her ears and lulled her into a deep sleep.

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H.T