The cabins of Camp Half-Blood were silent, all their occupants sound asleep. All clear, except for one certain demigod. He slowly made his way to the canoe lake, casting glances around to make sure no harpies were around or alerted. After about ten futile glances, he decided that the harpies too were resting and he did not need to worry. Making sure, about his instincts, he continued ahead. Although it was all natural and normal for demigods to have vivid dreams (or nightmares; he preferred the former), his most recent nightmares had become too privacy- invading. He did not know what standards to use for demigod comparisons; nothing lasted for a long time.
After Leo had his supposed disappearance (Nico confirming he was not dead), Percy only slept peacefully for 3 nights before having nightmares. That was a record for him, though he wished it were longer. Monsters had retreated, though heavily reduced in numbers. The combined efforts of the seven chosen ones and the gods in their original forms had rounded up all the gigantes, and the final stand at camp borders had seen Gaea been sent back to sleep. The schizophrenia and headaches of the gods had all disappeared, and peace and hope returned to the camp. Albeit they had come at a price. Festus and Leo had not returned since the feast of Spes. After Hazel and Frank went back to Camp Jupiter and Jason began his duties as Pontifex Maximus, the remaining three waited impatiently for him to return. Percy had even tried writing a speech welcoming Calypso to camp Half-Blood, and another private one to apologize for his mistake. However, as he had begun looking forward to attending high school, the nightmares had returned.
The same drowsy voice had returned to disturb his nights, or so he had thought. The second time the nightmares showed up, Gaea was much more subtle in her approach. It began with him and Annabeth taking a walk down the beach. He remembered the couple walked up to a long, black spire. The spire stood in the center of a circular pool of water roughly 3 feet in diameter. Annabeth had asked him what the spire meant. At that moment, the dream shifted to show his face. His features had become hard, and his green eyes had turned completely dark. When he spoke, his voice was overshadowed by a womanly voice, which was much louder and dense, and appeared to come from someone half-asleep. He remembered what him\the voice had spoken. "Despair not young lady. Your blood awakened me once. It shall also do so a second time". All the while, his fingers had kept Annabeth's wrist in firm grasp. Her expression had showed pure terror. He flinched; his heart pained just thinking about it. Annabeth's words from the dream echoed in his ears-"You were awakened once, and sent back to sleep. The camps have united, woman. We will not stop until you are dead, or we are. " Gaea's evil laughter had shaken him from the inside. "I cannot be killed, you foolish girl." As she spoke through him, roots as thick as a baseball bat wrapped her up to the waist and palms. He uncapped Riptide, and with a look of pure amusement raised it over their heads. His dream-self placed a foot in the water pool, the roots dragging them towards it. He changed his grip on the sword's hilt, holding it with blade protruding backwards. His other hand jerked Annabeth's head by her hair as the sword came through their chests, their blood running along the blade and dripping into the pool. The water turned crimson, the color of freshly spilled blood, and the spire sunk down as the roots enveloped both of them completely in darkness. The next sight his eyes saw was the skyline of New York covered in thick black smoke, the ruins lying in flames. His face dropped down with rage every time he replayed the scene in his head, at not being able to do anything for the people. It did not matter that it was a dream. It then showed him standing on the palm of the Athena Parthenon, looking over a badly rampaged-through Camp Half-Blood. Then his vision had faded to darkness, and only voices remained. The voices told of what the sacrificed blood would do. Gaea would wake up her consort, Tartarus as well, and the duo would march on to destroy the world with the most dreadful and ancient creatures like drakons, Typhon, a thousand-armed two-headed giant and many more backing them up. Percy could not help shivering at those thoughts. The Hekatonkheires were well known and feared for their raw brute force and power. If a Thousand-Handed one emerged as the enemy, no one could stand a chance against it. Everything felt so real in those dreams; Percy wondered what he would face in the days to come.
As he sat by the lake, Percy's thoughts went back to what he had endured since his first summer at camp. He distinctly remembered being chased by Alecto in school, then the Minotaur crashing the car he was travelling in. The fight with the Minotaur had him exhausted, and he had collapsed while carrying Grover to the camp border. Annabeth had tended to him while he slipped in and out of consciousness. Then he had met Luke and Clarisse, and when Clarisse had tried dunking his head in the toilet of her cabin, he made it explode. He got his first quest shortly after he was claimed during the Capture-the-flag game. The oracle had terrified him out of his wits. The quest had brought him closer to Annabeth, who coincidentally disliked him initially. These thoughts got him craving those moments; just Olympus faced the risk of destruction (not the whole world). The light breeze ruffled his hair as the Sun began to rise. He got up, and went to freshen up in his cabin. He could catch his breath later, for he had a lot to make up for the bravest demigod he had ever met: Leo.
This morning marked the sixth day after they won the war. The sixth morning after Leo's incredibly selfless act of sacrifice defeated Gaea, ten hours after Festus the dragon returned with Leo and Calypso. Chiron gave Calypso a room to stay at the Big House, for Leo was still young. According to the (unspoken) rules, a demigod should at least be eighteen to leave the camp borders. Leo was a couple years short.
Percy was unable to welcome either of them properly, but had made up for it by honoring them during breakfast time. Jason and Piper each had a lot to say, and Leo was lucky to get a couple of hours to sleep (Jason got tired, but excused himself in the name of Camp Jupiter duties). On Percy's suggestion, the dryads and naiads agreed to tour Calypso around the camp.
There was more noise than usual at the dining pavilion. The seven demigods of the Second Great Prophecy were all together at one table, with an additional member among the ranks, sitting between Leo and Percy. Some curious eyes were staring at Annabeth, whispering how she let that happen. Everyone from the Aphrodite cabin was glaring daggers at the person in question. It was, after all, The Calypso from The Ogygia. After a few moments, Percy stood up and on cue the clutter stopped.
"To everyone present with us here" he began "-I request to lend me a few moments and their ears." He gestured towards Leo and continued, "I can't explain the joy I feel, welcoming back perhaps the bravest demigod I've ever known. Who planned ahead of the events needed to make sure the greater good prevailed. I can understand what's going through your minds at the moment, but believe me, no one could ever do what Leo accomplished. His name will go down in history as the demigod who found Ogygia, who rescued an innocent from eternal punishment, whom I regret to say I once promised freedom." He looked at Calypso who met his gaze with a tiny smile playing on her lips.
"I'm afraid I couldn't stay loyal to my words. However, what's been done is done. Tonight, raise your glass to Leo, the demigod who hit Gaea in the face. I promise to stay by your side, as a an ally, as a friend. Cheers to the clown and the lady. " The crowd awed and laughed at the same time, but raised their cups and glasses anyway. Leo could only enjoy a few more minutes before Jason and Piper dragged him away.
After he freshened up and got dressed, Percy would check on the Athena cabin for Annabeth. They could now dine on any table they wished to, though majority of the campers stuck to eating with their siblings. Then she'd head to her new site of work. The abandoned vineyard where the legion once set camp was now part of the land owned by Delphi Strawberry Farms, the cover name for Camp Half-Blood. The magical barrier now extended to cover that patch of land too, and the Athena and Hephaestus cabins were responsible to develop condominiums and apartment complexes (inspired, no doubt, by the descriptions of New Rome). That day was the third day work had begun, and as per schedule, the park and pool were to be at least halfway finished before nightfall. Later that day, the counselors had to meet up with Mr. D and Chiron for instructions and timetables. The camp was usually only attended by the yearlong campers, but this time the whole camp had decided to stay and help. A home is a home, after all, they had reasoned.
While walking back to the cabins, he noticed Festus and Peleus having a fire-breath contest. He could not help a giggle at the thought. Peleus seemed to be winning the rounds. However, the little pang of joy was only present for a few seconds. Everything had come into play the way it was fated to be, yet he felt nothing but guilt thinking about the lives lost during the war. Sure, the seven were away to the Ancient Lands, but Percy kept on going back to pondering over the what-ifs the camps had faced. What would have happened if… he knew the truth from the beginning? He could have stopped Octavian earlier, helped Reyna run the camp better. Most importantly, those who were dead would be alive. What would have happened if he knew that Poseidon's powers extended over to anything liquid? If he could master those powers, Fates knew what potential he had. What would have happened if he trained his fellow campers in small troops? Ares cabin would love such guerilla tactics. The unpredictable fighting style would make extremely good fighters. All those memories made him angry with himself. He felt like a failure, a leader unable to help his comrade-in-arms. No battle is won without sacrifice, this he knew; he failed to ensure sacrifices were minimum. His thoughts wandered to earlier battles: the resistance of Olympus, where he lost Michael Yew, the battle of the Labyrinth, where Lee Fletcher and Castor died with others whom he did not know, Charles Beckendorf, whose sacrifice was unnecessary if not for his carelessness and concern about the demigods aboard the Princess Andromeda.
What he did not think about, though, was that everyone was going through tough times now, and that it was his fatal flaw talking, not he. Ever since he heard Leo had sacrificed himself, and he planned it, he constantly felt like a failure at his duties. Poseidon had not contacted him after the battle against the Gigantes, which seemed to confirm his suspicions about him. It all ends today, he thought. He quickly decided he would confront everyone about his self-doubts. And he started for his cabin. He had a long day ahead.
A/N: This chapter goes to Alice, my first reviewer. She left a guest review. If you read this, I would sincerely thank you for the short-&-sweet review you left. And don't worry about the plot. It gets darker as the story goes on, can't tell more than that.
Hasta luego, mi amiga.