(A/N): Wheeee! Long chapter, longer than most anyways. I envy those people who can write like, pages and pages and pages per chapter. If you've been confused (I realized I should have put this in Ch2, whoopsies) I am alternating between two POVs, Elena Sinal and James Dorman. This one is Elena, as was Ch1, but Ch2 was James. Sorry about any confusion. Enjoy! Read on, good sirs!
Disclaimer: I'm running out of quirky ways to say that I DON'T OWN PJATO.
At Fifth Age's End
Ch. 3
"Here we are, my dear," said Chiron as I tried to scrub the sleep out of my eyes.
It was about three in the morning. Chiron had had to wait until nightfall to escort me to the camp, as he had to oversee a game called 'Capture the Flag'. Then an 'unexpected arrival' requiring urgent medical attention had showed up.
Slipping off Chiron's back, I grasped my backpack and yawned widely, quite like a male lion in the African shade, from what Artemis had shown me of the-what was it called?-savannah.
"This is your cabin, my child. Make yourself at home. Breakfast is at 8:00, remember. I will see you fresh in the morning."
"Mmnn," I mumbled, too tired to make sure I was bowing right. "Thank you, Chiron."
He smiled and galloped off. The cabin was completely devoid of people, with a row of bunks, silver grey walls, and a golden set of weighing scales along with some maps.
It looked simple. Adequate. But most importantly, real, not a dream.
Stepping inside cautiously, I trailed my fingers along the metal of the bunk frames and breathed in the fresh, tangy scent of the forest just outside. So this was reality.
I smiled a little. It certainly smelled wonderful.
I dropped my things at the door, and curled up on the closest bed. Then I was asleep.
Demigods never, ever, sleep well, especially when there's a prophecy in motion. In the dream, I was back in the throne room, in the midst of the gods' seats of power. The ceiling above shone with stars, bright and gleaming with the heroes of old. But the scene before me wasn't so peaceful, or wondrous.
I was a boy. It was disconcerting, but I didn't have time to really be disgusted about it. I was dressed in silver Greek armor that weighed down my slight frame. A sword, standard celestial bronze, was in my hands, perfectly balanced.
I parried a blonde, well-tanned girl's strike and lunged for an opening in her guard, her blade held only centimetres too high. I couldn't control this dream. The boy, whoever he was, was good, though as we went on battling the blonde with wild grey eyes, I realized that my left eye could not see a thing, for the simple reason that it was not there. I knew this was important, but at the moment the heat of battle was clouding my concentration. All of a sudden, the girl took us by surprise, kicking us hard in the stomach hard and running to the other battle, which was happening at the other end of the throne room.
"Luke, listen!" She yelled, charging the first combatant. He was in golden armor that shone harshly, with sandy hair to match. Even his eyes were liquid gold. Casually, cruelly, he flicked his hand and she went flying, slamming into-was that Athena's throne?-and sliding to the floor.
"Annabeth!" The opponent of what was certainly Kronos, currently inhabiting Luke Castellan's body, yelled. The sword he held was beautiful, a shining example of the beauty of celestial bronze.
Belatedly I realized who I had to be. A chill struck me down the spine, and I shivered in the depths of the dream.
The boy who had yelled was breathing raggedly, struggling to stay on his feet. He had raven-black hair and wild, determined eyes that boiled as green as the stormiest sea. Perseus Jackson, Hero of Olympus. I realized was standing between him and Annabeth Chase. Which, according to my least favorite goddess, the one and only Aphrodite, was not a safe place to be.
At that moment, I certainly believe that.
Somewhere, I could hear music, the kind that invoked melancholy and bittersweet feelings. The satyr, Grover Underwood.
Kronos could not get up. He reached weakly for his sword, but it didn't come.
"Nakamura! Time to prove yourself. You know Jackson's secret weakness. Kill him, and you will have rewards beyond measure," commanded Kronos. Our-me and Ethan's-vision immediately moved towards Percy's midsection.
"Look around you, Ethan," Percy told us tiredly. "The end of the world. Is this the reward you want? Do you really want everything destroyed-the good with the bad? Everything?"
"There is no throne to Nemesis," we murmured, gripping our sword. "No throne to my mother."
"That's right!" Kronos cried, still unable to rise. A patch of hair smoldered. "Strike them down! They deserve to suffer." But he no longer had a firm hold on our-Ethan's-loyalty.
"You said your mom is the goddess of balance. The minor gods deserve better, Ethan, but total destruction isn't balance. Kronos doesn't build. He only destroys," Percy reminded us softly.
Grover went on playing his pipes, a wistful tune of tranquility and peace. Ethan Nakamura, my late half-brother, swayed to the wish for a better day, his good eye blinking.
We hefted the sword in our hands and charged. We headed for Kronos.
Vaguely, I felt Ethan's steady resolve. We cut at Kronos's neck, and should've killed him.
Except he was invulnerable. We fell back, arms numb from the impact. A shard of our own blade had ricocheted back at us, and it was fatal. The pain numbed us.
"Treason," Kronos sneered, rising over us, doom on the horizon. Ethan didn't feel scared, only tired, which was more than I could have said for me.
"Deserve better," we choked out. "If they just...had thrones-"
Kronos stomped his foot once. A gaping wide hole opened, and we fell through it.
Ethan's mind felt iron-cold, accepting. I screamed and woke myself up.
The sun's rays were fast creeping in through the windows. Gasping, I ripped the covers away and concentrated on breathing. Then I dragged myself out of bed, numb all over.
I changed quickly into some jeans and a white cotton shirt before dousing my face in cool water. I ran a brush through my brown curls, wincing as the tangles resisted. Taking my favorite purple hairbands, I tied my hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the way.
I stepped out of the cabin and looked around. The camp was in a secluded valley, shrouded in Mist to keep out monsters and mortals alike. I was told the cabins used to be arranged in a U like the gods' thrones on Olympus, but now they also included the minor gods. My cabin had its back to the forest and before it was a collection of fountains, statues, a crackling hearth, and objects I guessed were basketball hoops.
Apollo had shown me them before, of course. He had even offered to 'shoot a few hoops' with me, whatever that meant. I could never get him to fully explain his way of speech.
To the left, a lake, cerulean blue and just right for canoeing. To the right, the forges burned and training arenas for all kinds of weaponry bathed in the sunlight. I saw campers milling about, talking, laughing.
I was just beginning to wonder what I should be doing when I heard a strange sound, long and drawn out. It reminded me of the sea Poseidon had created for me once. Immediately, half-bloods began to file into a single line, by cabin. I was last, just after Hecate's children. They didn't seem to notice me, conversing animatedly about spells. We walked up a hill facing the sea to a Greek-style pavilion.
I could spot Chiron talking to a satyr, and next to him, Mr. D, in his trademark leopard print shirt and purple jogging shorts. I didn't know him well; he was not allowed on Olympus unless Zeus said so. I did know, however, that no matter how fat and dislikable he seemed, Mr. D could leave whole cities senile. Or with flippers.
I sat at my table alone, serenely watching the hubbub. Reality seemed fun to me.
Finally, after receiving our food and making the appropriate sacrifices, we sat and began to eat. I eyed my empty goblet skeptically. Others were drinking all kinds of non-alcoholic beverages, but I didn't know how they did it.
"Orange juice," a Hecate camper announced. And the goblet obeyed.
Oh, I see. I thought for a moment, then requested Ribena. Hestia was always going on about the stuff, and it did taste very nice.
The food was delicious. Just as I had swallowed my last mouthful, Chiron stood up and banged a hoof for silence. A reluctant quiet fell as Mr. D stood up heavily.
"Well, I'm not glad to see you either," he sighed. "We have a-I suppose you could say belated-addition to our camp. Lena Sal. Er, Elena Sinal, daughter of Nemesis. Yes."
I stood up to a silence. Then someone sitting alone at a table in the fore stood up, raising his glass of blue liquid with a smile. He was the Percy Jackson I had seen in my dream.
In an instant every camper roused a huge cheer and raised their glass in a toast. They looked so much like their Olympian parents it was rather scary.
Chiron stomped again, and Mr. D continued in a bored voice. "Yes, yes, huzzah. In other announcements, yippee to Cabin Six's victory in Capture the Flag. Also, Cabin Seven is hosting an archery competition on Thursday. Now, scamper, before you become bottlenoses."
The campers didn't seem fazed by his sarcasm. Whom I assumed were cabin leaders each rapped out individual orders and led their cabin mates away from the pavilion.
After speaking to Chiron, Perseus Jackson walked up. His sea-green eyes twinkled like Poseidon's does when he's happy. He stuck out a hand "Percy. Mr. D is always like that."
"So I have been told." I took his hand and smiled. "Nice to meet you. Elena." He was only a couple inches taller than my own five foot seven.
"You're not new to this 'Greek gods' thing," he said, leading me away from the pavilion.
"No," I agreed. "Not really. But I am new to this age. Do I just shuffle around and try out things?" We passed a group of campers with the elven features and mischievous grins. Hermes' children, no doubt. Two of them waved at Percy, identical smiles on their faces. Percy saluted them.
"Yeah. You're the only child of Nemesis, so you do what you want. The counselor of a cabin is the one who has been here longest, or has successfully challenged the former cabin counselor in a duel."
"I see. You are the Perseus Jackson, hero of the recent Titan War, yes? Excuse me for asking," I amended, as a shadow passed over his face. "I didn't mean to pry."
"It's fine," he assured me. "But I wouldn't consider myself the hero. It was Luke, really."
"You are as modest as the gods admit. Grudgingly, mind you."
Percy laugh good-naturedly. "That's to be expected." He spotted Cabin Six walking ahead of us and said goodbye to me, jogging off to catch up with Annabeth and her siblings.
I looked out over the valley and decided to start at the archery range. I hoped Apollo's children were capable of handling a little well-meaning opposition.
I watched from the edges of the training ground as Ares' head counselor, Clarisse, ran her cabin mates through a series of moves that were specifically sequenced to enhance one's speed and strength. Though heavy, Cabin Five's members were quick, lunging and turning with a lion's might.
But a lion wasn't necessarily the most effective hunter. It was just the most powerful.
I was so engrossed in observing Clarisse demonstrate a lunge-and-parry combination that it took me a while to realize I had an unknown presence beside me.
I jerked to the right, startled. The boy smirked at my expression.
I cursed quickly in Greek, angry at myself. He had a light tan, and was lithe like a panther. Black silky hair fell raggedly over his light gray eyes. He wore a black jacket over a T-shirt, blue in color, and crisp black jeans. His dark blue shoes were modeled like a boot but with canvas material. I remembered Apollo saying they were the cool new footwear, Converse.
"Am I worthy of your presence, Your Highness?" he asked, still smirking. I realized I had been staring and glared back.
"When did you get here?" I demanded, ignoring the question.
"A while ago. I take it you don't get caught by surprise often." He shifted his gaze out to the training ground again, gray eyes analyzing each move. The way he stood made him fade into the background somehow, unmoving and not there.
"I don't." He didn't press me for more information. "Your name?"
"James Dorman." He didn't ask my name in return. Instead, James jerked his head at the Ares' cabin. "Want to join?"
"Why not?" I reasoned. We stepped out just as Clarisse told her half-siblings to pair up and prepare to duel. She spotted us and sneered.
"Punks," she sized me up, arms crossed. "What do you want?"
"We didn't realize this was a private lesson," quipped James, but his tone was guarded. His hands, I noticed, had clenched slightly, as if preparing for a fight.
"As long as you can keep up, you're in," Clarisse grinned evilly. "You can duel her." She pointed at me. "She looks like she can handle it." I cocked a questioning brow, hoping that was a compliment rather than a sarcastic jab.
"Really." James' voice was skeptical. My pride flared a bit at his expression, and it was my turn to clench my fists just a bit.
"Really," promised Clarisse. She motioned for us to begin at our leisure.
James drew a knife from inside his jacket and stood at guard. "A weapon, Your Highness?"
I ignored the verbal barb and took off one hairband, twirling it once; it morphed into a wicked sharp hunting knife as long as my forearm. It was one-half of my 10th birthday gift from Artemis. It was part of a pair.
All James said was, "Ah." We faced each other, wary, and without warning he lunged forward with a quick horizontal slash. I leapt back, jabbing at his knee. He slipped out of reach, almost easily. This boy had marvellous reflexes, but I held back all the same. There was no need to flaunt my abilities.
"I forgot to ask your name earlier."
I hid my surprise. Not many people deigned to chat while dueling. "Elena. Elena Sinal."
"Oh? That Nemesis girl? I imagined you taller. I wasn't here this morning," he explained, flicking my thrust to his side upwards with a sharp jerk of his hand. "I only just woke up from a coma."
"You're new? You're very good at this. Why were you in a coma?" I remembered Chiron mentioning something about an 'unexpected arrival'. Perhaps he had previous training outside? One doesn't simply start out as good as him.
James shrugged while sidestepping like a graceful albeit lethal dancer, twisting his arm for a feint to the shoulder. "Manticore. Left arm got choked full of spines."
"Oh." I was barely listening. He was attacking constantly, leaping in and out of my reach, twisting always to one side or the other. Registering an opening by pure instinctive habit, I caught his blade and twisted. The knife spun out of his hand with a sharp s-lick. Before it hit the ground I was holding my blade level to his chest, unwavering, just like Ares and Athena always did. I even copied their smirk, despite my best intentions.
He wasn't amused at all.
"Should I scream? You've obviously got the advantage here." His drawling tone and biting sarcasm angered me. I narrowed my eyes.
"You are saying that if you had training, you would be better than me?" I demanded hotly. The nerve!
"Erhm...duh," he said, casually. I tripped him with a jerk of my leg and nicked him with my hunting knife, deliberately drawing blood. It wasn't harmless at all, but it would scare him.
"You would like to see what I can really do?"
"I told you she could handle you," Clarisse smirked. She stood to one side with her arms crossed. I suddenly tensed, sensing that the whole Ares' cabin was stopping to gawk at us. I dislike being in the center of attention. And I had lost my temper in front of a whole cabin.
Gods curse it.
"I'll remember to listen to you more next time," drawled James, still on the ground, though his infuriating smirk was still in place. I nearly growled in frustration.
"Let him up," Clarisse ordered. After a long stare, I did; she didn't seem like someone you wanted as an enemy. James stood up in one smooth movement, cleaning off his jacket cockily.
I have never wanted to hit someone so badly. Artemis was right; boys were exasperating
"Ahem!" All of us turned to find Chiron behind us. "May I speak to Elena privately?"
"Yes sir," Clarisse said, bowing her head respectfully. After a moment, James followed suit. I looked up at Chiron.
Chiron looked grim. "I have something to show you."
Without warning, he scooped me onto his back and galloped off. We halted at a relatively big house and I slipped off his back. Chiron bent his head through the doorway and clip-clopped to a set of drawers. Reaching into the first drawer he unfurled a tattered piece of paper and passed it to me. Feeling nervous, I read it aloud:
"Monsters will destroy The West,
Unless this girl wakes from her rest,
Sent to kill the Olympians' foes,
She shall watch many in death throes,
An evil one whom she befriends,
Watches, as the Fifth Ageā¦ends.
~The Prophecy"
"That," said Chiron to a deathly silence, "is the prophecy ordained when you fell unconscious."
"It sounds very terrifying," I managed, struggling to swallow down my fear. My throat burned.
"Yes, my dear. A terrifying future awaits you. Proceed wisely."
