The ceiling above me is a light blue color, and the sun reflections on it move slowly but surely towards the next wall. I hear the sounds of people trying to be silent, but they are failing. The things they are holding often fall or wobble against what they are laying on, creating slight noises that are systematic and hypnotic. The room I am in smells fresh, like hand sanitizer and lemons. This place is nothing like my dorm room at school, and I sort of like it. It's peaceful in its own way.
Images of what happened at school flash through my mind, and I wonder what made the creatures come at me, and who took me away from them. I cannot feel their presence now, and I know I am safe, and that is all that matters. For the first time in a while, I have slept for longer than a few hours, and I feel great, but I do not know for how long I was asleep for. It is not on the top of my questions I need to ask list, so I quickly dismiss the thought. Instead, I concentrate on where I am right now instead of dwelling on the past.
The bed I am in is crisp and smells like detergent, the mattress soft and mushy like foam. Light gives the room a yellow glow, making it seem magical in its own way. The people in the room, who I assume to be teenagers from the noise they are making, are walking around, but I can't move my head to see where they are going. In fact, I can only move my fingers, and even that seems to take a lot of energy. I know it's the monsters' fault, but I can't think about that if I want to remain sane.
I hear someone taking a seat at my side. A hand presses against my forehead and I imagine myself cringing even though I can not. A boy's voice speaks quietly to me.
"Hey, I'm Brian. What's your name?" he asks.
"Emily," I whisper back. He leans over so I can see his face. He is young, maybe fifteen, and when he smiles, metal flashes at my eyes. His eyes are a deep shade of green.
"Well, Emily, welcome to camp Half-Blood," he whispers back. As he sees my questioning glare, he cracks a smile and starts speaking.
"You're going to be here for a while. Possibly the whole summer, in fact," I don't mind that. I have no home anyways.
"See, you're not really a normal human. Do you know about Greek gods and mythology and all that?" I nod slightly. We were learning about them during the last term at school, and it was quite fascinating.
"Would you believe when I tell you they're actually real?" He asks me with a playful smile. I don't believe him, he is just joking with me to see my reaction. But then, how do I explain the monsters that no one else sees?
"Okay, you obviously don't believe me. Well, when you get out of bed soon enough, hopefully, you can see it for yourself, okay?" he asks. I raise an eyebrow and he gently pats my shoulder.
"You'll see. Are you hungry?" he half asks while reaching over the desk at my side as I nod. I have been half starving ever since I stepped into the Academy of Arts. I can't handle anything with a stinger taste than cheese, so I pretty much ate only yoghurt and fruits, sometimes soup, while at school.
He brings back a bowl of pasta, still hot, with parmesan sprinkled over the top. How did he know that was my favorite? He seems to notice my stare and quickly adds,
"Another proof Greek gods exist, these plates fill up with whatever you please. I'll show you," he then reaches over and grabs a cup from the desk. It's empty, but all of a sudden it's filled with Ginger Ale, my favorite soft drink. All I can think of is, what the hell? and a straw also magically appears. After the monsters at my school, this is only mildly surprising, thigh I am still intrigued as to how it does that.
Some of my strength is back already, so I push myself to a sitting position and put my head in my hands, because I'm suddenly dizzy. Am I that hungry? I grab the bowl of pasta from him (a spoon materialized) and I start eating.
"I'll leave you to your food," he says as he walks away to another bed. I realize I'm in an infirmary of some sort, as there are wounded people in the beds. Worried, I check myself for any cuts but I'm fine. I breathe a sigh of relief and eat my pasta. When I'm done, I'm still hungry, and some pudding appears in the bowl. All traces of pasta are gone, as if this one was new and just washed. My eyes open wide, but one thing my survival skills teacher always told me was to adapt. If this place had fancy self-refilling bowls, then so be it. I finish my pudding before I know it.
Three hours later, I can walk around, but there's nowhere to go. I don't know where I am, and even though I trust these people, I can't venture out on my own. I'd get lost trying to crawl out of a plastic bag. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a middle-aged man in a wheelchair roll into the room. He seems to be coming towards me. I make eye contact, smile a little, and he smiles back. I don't know what I'll say to him, but gladly he speaks first.
"Hello there. What's your name?" He asks. I say I'm Emily and look to my feet. I'm not the best at conversation because of my lack of social interactions. Most people at my school think i'm psycho, so they tend to avoid me.
"I assume Brian has told you a bit about this place?" he tells me using uptalk. I respond positively, and ask,
"Is it true? About the Greek gods?" in a hushed voice. He nods with a twinkle in his eyes, eyes that look like they've seen the world. My heart starts beating faster. I never believed in a God, and now I learn that this man believes there are hundreds. Or is he sure? I wonder.
"Why am I here?" I ask him.
"You, like everyone here, are a demigod, meaning you are the child of a god and a mortal human being. Therefore, you are not immortal but have some of the god's powers and some of his or her personality." He says matter-of-factly. If that's true, which I doubt it is, then why didn't he ever come to me? I've only ever had a mother, but she died when I was ten, in a helicopter accident. If a Greek god was my dad, then… Why didn't I know?
"How come I never knew that before?!" I ask, bewildered.
"Knowing would have made you more susceptible to monster attacks, so it's better you only knew now, in the safety of the camp," he says wisely. Suddenly everything clicks into place.
The monsters at my school. The ones only I could see. The wall of terror I sent in their direction. All of a sudden I believed everything, but that only makes me scared. "Who's my dad, then?" I ask him in a worried tone.
"Nobody but your mother knows yet. Do you mean that you live or know your mother by that?" He asks gently.
"Yes, but she died when I was ten," I tell him. He gives me a look that says he understands. I wonder if anyone close to him has ever passed away before. I wonder if he understands the feeling. "Who could my dad be?" I question.
"Any Greek god could be your father, and we will find out tonight at the latest for sure," he says smartly. Suddenly I'm really anxious to find out who he is, and why he never came to see me, why I've been stuck in a boarding school most of my life because there was nobody to take me in.
"So, this place is a camp?" I ask to steer the conversation away from the awkward topic of my parentage. He smiles and beckons me over to the door, and leads me to a porch overlooking the ripest strawberry field I have ever seen. People are milling around, picking them and putting them into woven baskets. Beyond the fields, there is only a forest like any other could be seen in eastern Canada. One pine tree, though, was a lot higher than all the others, towering over the forest like a king on a throne.
"This is camp Half-Blood, where you will learn to use your powers and keep them under control, fight with a sword, climb deadly walls, all in attempt to keep you safe from monsters when you leave. Of course, the year-rounders here have to take regular classes, same as schools across the world. It's up to you if you want to stay all year or not," he tells me as I stare at the beautiful scenery worthy of a painting. "You have all summer to decide," he says, but I already know I'll be staying here all year long if I can.
I look to the man in the wheelchair to ask for his name, but when I turn all I see is a white horse. Surprised, I jump backwards to avoid getting stampeded on, getting myself a good look at the horse's… torso? It looks like a regular human shirt and arms hanging at the sides, but when I look higher up, I see the man's face on top of the shirt. His lower body is a horse. I gape.
He chuckles and tells me, "Do not be scared. My name is Chiron, and the wheelchair was just a decoy for it not to be too much of a shock to newcomers like you. But yes, I am a centaur, and I hope you will not treat me any different than a normal human being," he says with a questioning tone in his voice. I just nod, unable to conjure up the right words for this situation, and we walk around the camp.