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I apologize for the late update, and I hope this chapter makes up for it! Please Enjoy 'New Sword and Never-Ending Cider'!
The more Klove led me around, the more I wondered whether I was dreaming or not. Wouldn't be the strangest thing to happen so far.
Everywhere I turned, kids of different ages milled around in armor, toting deadly weapons like it was nothing un-ordinary.
This was all the picture definition of 'un-ordinary'.
We passed an archery range, a group of campers practicing avidly. One stray arrow soared right past my ear; I almost had a heart attack.
"Sorry!", a camper called, but Klove just laughed and urged us on before I could see who had nearly killed me.
He introduced me to the volcanic rock wall, which spewed ACTUAL lava. Some poor kid was actually climbing the thing, and he didn't seem to be doing too bad either.
These guys were suicidal. Another older camper was sitting nearby, one eyebrow missing and the other sizzling. His face was blackened by ash, but he was grinning madly.
And insane, I added.
"Is every one psychotic here, or just most of em?" I asked Klove, who grinned secretively.
"Just about, kid," he said. "They've gotta train somehow though, and better here than out there against actual monsters." I nodded.
"Makes sense, I guess," I muttered. He ignored me. We entered the strange 'u' shape of the cabins, all of them designed to reflect the nature of their god/goddess. The grandest was like that of an old Greek temple, marbled and columned. Very imposing.
"Zeus?" I asked, pointing to it.
"Yep, right dead center for the king of the gods. Next to his is Hera's, and his brothers Poseidon's." He pointed them out as he said them.
"Where's mine?" Klove scratched his head sheepishly in response, smiling nervously.
"Well, the thing is, these cabins represent the Olympian gods. Your mother..." he tuned his head to and fro, as though he were afraid of someone listening in, then leaned forward with his hand culling his mouth. "Physis, if she really is your mom, does not have a cabin." He leaned back, relaxing somewhat.
"So, if it turns out to be true, you'll be with the Hermes cabin." Why would I stay in another gods' cabin?
I asked Klove, and I thought I saw pity flash through his eyes for a split second. That irritated me.
"Well, for the most part, a lot of them are actual children of Hermes', but there are a few special cases of kids who haven't been claimed. Those kids are bunked with Hermes till there godly parent claims them."
That sounded...crowded. Crowded and humiliating.
"I don't want to be put in there then," I said stubbornly. Klove shook his head.
"Not up to me," he said simply, before heading towards a cabin at the end of the row that looked suspiciously well occupied. "It's still best for you to say hi, cause, like it or not, this'll be your home for now. I'll let Luke take over from there."
Great. Leave the new kid with some stranger. This guy was a great protector.
He knocked, and a moment later the head of a blonde surfer-looking teen poked out.
"Hermes Cabin, how may I help you," he said with a grin, split by a scar, while apparently struggling to keep the door at a crack. Something was trying to pull it open.
"Well, got another one for you Luke. Names Mitch," he introduced, and the guy named Luke turned to me curiously. "He's unclaimed and kinda slow, so take it easy on him."
Luke smiled wide at me, than grunted as the door was jerked open a bit. He let it go suddenly, and an audible *oof* was heard behind the door.
"So Mitch, you're gonna be bunking with me huh? Names Luke, cabin counselor and son of Hermes." That smile was really infectious, cause I grinned back as a smaller boy emerged from the doorway around Luke rubbing his head.
'Friggin jerk' he grumbled as he stalked past.
"Oh don't be a grump, Connor," Luke called, to which Connor gave an over the shoulder glare. Luke turned to me and winked. "He's used to being the trickster."
I nodded, like this was actually important. He smiled wider, his perfect white teeth almost blinding.
"Well newbie, come on in. I'll introduce you to the cabin." He turned, pushing open the door to reveal a jumbled mess of beds, blankets and sleeping bags. Everywhere, clutter was strung about, till the floor was completely covered by stuff.
"Why are there so many?" I asked. Luke looked down for a moment, his smile replaced by a scowl, before his face returned to normal.
"Long story. The short version; the gods aren't always the most responsible, if you know what I mean." I did. Klove had mentioned that gods didn't always claim their children, and so those kids were dumped in the Hermes cabin.
I hoped Phusis claimed me soon, I didn't think there was even a space for me in there.
Luke maneuvered expertly through the maze of people, beds and items, stopping in front of an empty space about 3x3 feet. Cozy. Luke smiled brightly, sweeping his arm out in a grand gesture.
"And here's your bunk, Mitch. Get comfy, and claim the spot quickly. Someone else might want a few more inches." He warned.
I dropped...nothing. I didn't have a single thing with me to unpack. Didn't have a chance to grab anything really.
Luke must've noticed, cause he began rubbing the back of his head.
"Oh yeah, you don't have anything," he chuckled nervously. "Hold up. Anyone have a spare bag for the newbie!?" He yelled to the bustling cabin. A chorus of 'no's', "Connor stole mine. Haha, get it? Stoll?" and "getcher own, punk!" answered.
Thankfully, one kind soul had a spare, and threw it forward. Luke caught it easily, tossing into my spot.
"There, all yours." He said. "Now let's get you a weapon, you'll need it for capture the flag tonight."
His crazed, enthusiastic grin made me very nervous.
"A sword...for capture the flag?" I said slowly. He nodded, grin spreading.
"You'll see Mitchell." With that, he grabbed my arm and dragged me out of the cabin, my flailing arms and feet swatting many disgruntled kids on the way.
He pulled me along to an unassuming, if rather large, shed. It wasn't till he opened it up and pushed me inside that I realized why we were here.
"Oh my god", I gasped. Rows upon rows of swords, knives, spears and other such deadly tools covered every surface. Behind me, Luke clapped a hand on my shoulder.
"Gods, actually, Mitch. Plural." He corrected. He paced down the rows of weapons, picking some up, examining them and glancing at me before shaking his head and putting them back.
Finally, he stopped and pondered over a set of varied blades, each longer than my arm. One I knew was a gladius, which I only recognized from old movies. The rest looked completely different.
He ignored the simple gladius, and opted for a longer, curved sword. It's handle hooked on either end, and from it sprouted a blade that angled inwards towards the middle.
The blade itself was solid bronze, as for most of the handle. The handle was lightly detailed with iron grey, branching designs.
He held it up, swung it closely around a bit, then brought it to me, nodding to himself.
"Try this on for size, pip-squeak." He held it out to me, and I took the cool bronze grip in hand.
"Its heavy," I strained, the sword dipping towards the ground. He laughed, and I felt my face heat up.
"You're just a little puny, Mitch. You'll gain some muscle carrying that sword around." I nodded, though I doubted that heavily.
"What is it?" I asked. It was too heavy to even swing, but it felt right in my hand.
"It's a falchata. Older Greek design, though that's arguable. Not really used anymore, probably wouldn't be recognized by anyone here. It's a good sword though."
I was liking the sword more and more the longer I held it. It's branch design resonated with me. The sword itself felt important to me, more than just a sword.
"Is it special," I asked. It seemed to finely made to be an ordinary sword. Because I'm a sword expert. Obviously.
"Has to be, it's the only one ever found made out of celestial bronze. And those Stygian iron etchings? You won't see that everyday either."
I eyed the sword with newfound appreciation, and held it upright with an unsteady grip.
"Is it mine now?" I would hate to not be able to carry it everywhere with me. I didn't have much else.
Thankfully, Luke smiled, nodding.
"All yours, newbie. Now let's get to the pavilion. It's almost dinner time." As if on cue, a horn blew, which I could only guess summoned everyone to dinner.
Sure enough, after depositing my newfound un-wieldable sword with my bedroll, I emerged to find the entire camp flooding the pavilion, all lined up for supper.
Those at the front took their meals to a roaring brazier, and scraped a portion of it into the flames. The fumes made my mouth water.
"Here's how it works, Mitch. You get your food, offer a portion to your godly parent, or any god really, and then you sit with your cabin. You'll be sitting with me, 'Kay?" I nodded, taking my place in the line.
After finally receiving my plate, and offering a portion of mouthwatering bbq steak to Phusis, I took my seat between Connor and an older looking girl with curly brown hair and chocolate skin.
Connor's grin unnerved me, and his tight hand shake made me wince. He winked, and I had to resist the urge to make sure my belt loop wasn't missing.
The girl seemed nicer, offering a light shake and a kind smile. She was pretty.
"My names Tracy, daughter of Hermes. You're the new kid, right?" I nodded, and she ruffled my hair. "You'll be fine. Mitchell, right?"
"Yeah," I said lamely. She turned to her food, and when I did as well I realized quickly how hungry I actually was.
The steak was delicious, as were the potatoes, chicken legs and rolls.
I licked my lips, and by some sort of dark, wonderful magic, a goblet appeared at my side in the hands of a stunning, ethereal girl. She giggled at my probably stupid expression, before sweeping off.
I took a drink, and then instantly drained it. It tasted exactly like the cider Celaeno had made for Christmas (hey, she may have been a psychotic, killer bird lady, but she made some delicious drinks).
I watched delighted as the goblet refilled itself.
Maybe this place wasn't so bad after all. Free refills and BBQ.
At the end of dinner, Chiron the centaur stood at the edge of the raised platform, clapping his hands and silencing all conversations.
"Tonight," his voice boomed across the pavilion, "we welcome a new camper into our fold! Mitchell Roark, unclaimed, has been brought to train among us and learn to survive the perils of life as a demigod!"
There was scattered cheers and applause, before Chiron once again clapped.
"Let us hope he survives his first year!" Even louder cheers and applause. "Now, to the campfire, to sing songs as is tradition!"
Everywhere gave thunderous approval with hands, feet and yells. As one tidal wave, the campers surged down to the beach, myself getting caught in the crowd.
The rest of the night was a blur of off-key singing, flames of changing colors, and the boom of pounding feet.
I don't remember when I made it back to the cabin, only that it was late and as soon as I saw my bed roll I collapsed, cuddling my sword to chest and wondering briefly if, when I woke up, this all would be a dream.
I really hoped it wasn't a dream.
Speaking of dreams, it seemed I was fated to have yet another startlingly realistic vision. I had the sneaking suspicion that this would become a normal occurrence.
I wasn't in New York this time. I was standing over camp, and by over, I mean several hundred feet in the air. I screamed, very loudly, hollering like an idiot before I realized I wasn't falling. I was floating. Not plummeting to my death.
"Quit being a girl," I muttered to myself. Behind me, the ever sweet chuckling of Phusis sounded like a bell behind me, and I turned to find her standing before me in all her trancediant beauty.
"Don't be frightened so, my child. I simply wished to speak with you." Her gentle voice soothed any of my last tingling nerves, and I felt completely at ease. Her presence made me feel home.
"You are my mother, aren't you? I'm your child." I knew it before I asked, before she nodded, her gentle smile turning regretful. I started to feel something else bubble inside me, a slight stirring that made me feel sick. Resentment.
"Why did you never tell me before," I asked in a whisper, staring st my feet. I could feel tears begin to prick at my eyes, ten-years of wondering and loneliness brought to the forefront.
Ten years, and I now knew my mother. A goddess. I was angry.
"My sweet child..." Phusis began, "I have watched you, only partly conscious, but always observant and guiding. I tried to let you know of my presence, small occurrences that alerted you to me. I should have known you wouldn't recognize them. It was a desperate hope of a helpless mother." Her words wavered at the end, and the regret seeped into her voice and trailed down her cheeks in tears.
I wanted to hug her and scream at her at the same time. I settled on watching her, as though she might explode any moment.
"I saw your loneliness, and sent my servants to comfort you. I noticed your bully, and struck against her as often as she wronged you. What you thought were hallucinations was me, bending nature to my will. I tried to be there for you, and yet I knew then and now it would never be enough. It will never have been enough." A thought occurred to me suddenly.
"The cactus, that came alive when Mrs. Celaeno attacked me...was that you as well?" Her had tilted to the side, her soft hazel eyes regarding me.
"No, Mitchell. That was you who took control of nature to your bidding. It was your own power that saved you." I thought I could detect a hint of pride in her voice.
I was at a loss, and despite my anger, I was still slightly grateful that I knew her at all. The fact she had tried softened my anger and resentment, and now I could feel only...I didn't know.
I only knew that the tears I had held back poured down, and as arms enveloped me in a warm embrace, my dream faded to nothing.
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