Didn't have much time to think about the last chapter. All I could do then was a follow-up to the events, and I had so many ideas to scrap because it was plain stupid or does not suit the plot. Be noted, that I do researches on some topics to include better understandings of something in reality to fiction, because this is based on real myths too. There are many things to consider, and I have been incredibly busy for the time being, and it would be a few weeks until I get a good, long period of holiday. Right now, please don't mind me if I post chapters late or sometimes, don't post at all. Note that I will not be posting daily. Back to the story then. Now, our hero arrives at Half-Blood Hill.
A Shattered Past
Chapter 3: Half-Blood Hill
I was still in the car. Country songs were playing (which I took no interests of them) and the radio looked like an antique. From the look of the seats, it must be very old, since parts of the leather were already deforming or torn. I still don't know why I came with him. He might have been another one of those monsters, and I made no effort to run off. Maybe I had a hunch that he will be the one who could answer my questions. My past. My identity.
The doctor took a right, across a dirt road. He was keeping a steady speed, but he was driving at 120 mph, which I would never encourage anyone to do unless they have an emergency. Suddenly, siren was sounding behind us, and the doctor took a quick glance at the mirror. He slowed down, and then stopped. He made his hair look messy, and ran to the patrol car behind me, but I saw something shimmering in his coat. I did not make out its shape until a few seconds later. It was a dagger. A long, slender bronze dagger, possible professionally sharpened and a perfect compact weapon, ideal for assassination. Why was I thinking about assassination anyways?
"Come on! I have a pregnant woman in the car! I don't have time for this!" The doctor shouted to the policeman. The policeman came over and looked into the window. A pregnant woman? What did he mean?
"Do you need me to draft for you, sir?" The policeman asked the doctor.
"No need, officer. We're almost there."
"Alright, you will get a call from the police station this evening, sir."
"Thank the mist…" The doctor muttered after letting out a sigh.
"Sir?" The policeman questioned.
"Oh, nothing. Thank you, officer."
He got back in the car, and drove on.
20 minutes later.
We arrived at a camp-like place. There were people walking around, doing weird things, such as sword fighting and firing arrows. I wonder what kind of place is this. I never knew the place, but somehow, it felt familiar, so familiar that I could just see everything out. I am still not sure what seeing everything out means, but it was just a feeling that I was home.
"Follow me for now, and don't talk to anybody. Not yet." He said, pointing a finger at me, and then walked off. The grass was of the green of spring, calm, bright blue sky, the sun, giving warmth to the creatures below. That wasn't possible, because it was winter, and it even snowed yesterday. Somehow, this place has not a single snowflake anywhere. I followed the doctor. We went to a big log cabin, which the doctor called the big house. He opened the door, and I walked inside.
"So, this is the boy?" A voice asked from inside.
"Yep, here he is." The doctor answered, gently pushing forward. There was a guy in a wheelchair inside, and another man in a leopard skin shirt, playing pinochle. Suddenly, the guy in the wheelchair turned into a centaur. Wait… A CENTAUR! My minds must've been playing tricks with me. I shut my eyes tight, shook my head and opened it again. The centaur was still there.
"Whoa…" I exclaimed, my eyes wide open.
"I am Chiron. What is your name, boy?" the centaur said.
"I…" I thought. "I don't know, sir." I said, slowly. Calling a centaur sir was a little awkward and cheesy, but well, at least, he's half a human.
"What do you mean, you don't know. You mean, I don't have a name, or I can't remember my name because I am too lousy to do so?" The man in the leopard shirt said. "By the way, I'm Mr.D"
Dionysus' POV
"Damn! What will I call him if he doesn't have a name!" I thought
The boy's POV
"I don't remember anything, sir." I told Chiron.
"Hmm… this sure is not good. You are undetermined. You have to stay in the Hermes cabin for the moment." He replied.
"What is Hermes?" I asked, puzzled.
"This boy fails at history." Mr.D said.
"Mr.D this boy does not remember anything."
"Oh right. Right."
"Do you know of the Greek gods?" Chiron asked me.
"Greek… gods?" I asked, and before I could get an answer, a sharp pain stabbed through my head, like someone tased me in the brain, and suddenly, I remembered something.
"Zeus, Poseidon, Hades, Hera, Athena, Hermes, Apollo, Artemis, Demeter, Ares, Hephaestus, Aphrodite, Dionysus, Hestia, Nemesis, Morpheus, Nyx, Styx, Gaia…" I said, and none of those words made sense to me, and it made sense to me a few seconds later, like a flood of memory. Suddenly, a mini-natural disaster of all kinds happened all at once. "Hold on. I think I just remembered something." I continued, and panted.
"Do you remember your name?" Dionysus asked.
"No. Not my name. It's… oh my gods. I was here. The Greek gods. It all made sense."
"The boy needs some rest. Get him a place in the Hermes cabin right now. Get him ready for arts and craft by two O'clock." Chiron told the doctor.
"Alright. Follow me, kid." The doctor said, before giving Chiron a mocking salute and walking away with me. He guided me to a cabin. It looked pretty ordinary, but there were about another couple of dozen cabins around. One was wickedly fashioned out of obsidian and skulls, and one was like a vacation home near the sea, decorated by massive shells. Each of the cabins looked different from the other. The doctor opened the door and peeked in.
"New cabin mate!" He exclaimed. Loud cheers came from inside.
"Hermes or undetermined?" a voice called out from inside.
"Undetermined." The doctor called back, and there were loud cries of disappointment in unison from inside.
"Your cabin mates will take my role from now on. Got to get back to work in the city." The doctor told me, and walked away, waving at me for a few seconds. From afar, I saw him starting up his car, and he drove away, sending a small cloud of black smoke after it from his classic muscle car. The car went further until it was a small black spot, and then it was gone. I walked into the cabin.
"So… what's your name, new guy?" One of the kids asked.
"I don't know… I don't remember anything." I answered.
"Amnesia?"
"Well, kind of…"
"That must suck. By the way, your spot is in that corner there. Beware! A hero used to stay in that corner! Well, that was before he moved. An hour before arts n' crafts."
"Can you wake me up then?"
"Yeah sure."
I laid down on the rug, and almost immediately fell asleep. Suddenly, I was standing on the top of a rocky hill. There were people in ancient Greek battle armor fighting down the hill. They were slashing and jabbing at each other, like a clash of armies. Blood sprayed everywhere. One of them got their hand hacked off, and another got stabbed. Dead bodies laid unmoving on the ground, as the wind carried dust. Arrows flew back and forth, and I just noticed something. In front of me, there was a girl with a large stabbing wound in her stomach, lying on the ground. I did not make out much of features, but she was blonde. I noticed that I carried a single-edged blade, wet because of blood from the hilt right to the tip. I was also wearing a bronze armor, and again, it was splattered over with blood, and I could taste some in my mouth as well. The situation was almost real. A boy ran over to here, stabbing his sword, which was gleaming with reflections in bronze into the ground. He held her on the ground by the back of her head. His other hand grabbed hers. He was shouting something, which was illegible because of the sound of the sword clanging and warriors shouting their war cries. The girl managed a smile, before her eyes closed. Tears were flowing from the boy's cheek, and he grabbed up his sword, got up slowly and looked at me. I looked into his eyes, and all I saw was rage. He charged at me.
My eyes snapped open as somebody threw water onto my face. I sat up immediately. The kid I was talking to before I slept was standing in front of me, carrying a bucket of water.
"What the Hades is wrong with you!" I exclaimed.
"Wake you up, remember?" he started. "Come on. It's arts n' crafts time." He finished.
I got up, and wiped my face off with my right hand. I followed the rest of the kids to something that looked like a forge. Some people were sitting in there, working. The forge looked metallic, lit by lamps and candles. There were fireplaces here and there, and the place was extremely hot. The sound of metal clanging could be heard regularly, and occasionally, the sound of superheated water.
"Well, you get it from the last time. Do the work. Remember, swords are not crude. The blade side must not be hammered on, only hammer the side. We don't want maces. We want swords. Use the flames to your advantage. Now, go do the work." Someone said. He didn't seem to notice me that I was the new guy. I walked over to bench, with an anvil and hammer in front of it. Somehow, I chose lumps of metal, and took up the hammer. I slid a piece of celestial bronze into a fireplace. Soon, I took it out, and started hammering it.
2 hours later: 04:00 pm.
It was finished. A single-edged sword, forged out of celestial bronze. The edges were incredibly sharp, glinting along with the fire. I dipped it into the water, causing a wheezing sound when water is heated. I pulled it out after some time, and the sword was curved at a magnificent angle. Two types of bronze showing off its characteristics elegantly.
"Uhh… what are you making?" The guy who was ordering around came over to inspect the work.
"A single edged sword. Katana, originated in Japan, invented in the 1930 when the battles demand a quicker response time, giving designs of this idea, which warriors could unsheathe and strike with his blade in a single motion, called the Iaido. The katana is a piece of delicate craft, created out of high carbon and low carbon steel combined, in this case, celestial bronze. The block of metal will be hammered over days, but thanks to the effort of the forge technology of Olympus, it shortens the period to hours. It is then folded and hammered, no more than sixteen times, into a basic sword shape. The blade is coated in clay, to provide insulation to it, causing it to curve because of the strain on the spine, creating a curative line along the blade. It is then polished until it is extremely sharp, which would take weeks for mortals. The curative feature of the blade adds up to the increased cutting power." Someone said from behind.
"Dude, do you have to know everything about weapons?" the guy who was ordering around turned around and asked.
"Well, it is my profession, after all. I'm Arnold, Hephaestus cabin consul. How did you make this anyways?"
"I…" I thought. Apparently, I didn't know how I made it, but I JUST made it, like the thought was at the back of my mind. "I have no idea." Then I turned to the blade. My eyes widened. The blade was the one I was holding, in my dream.