(A/N): By gods, it's been a heck of a long time. I apologize for the wait, really I do. I could tell you all that crap about being caught up in school and homework and shiz and it would be true, but I really could've made time if I had tried. I am a guilty slacker by nature, so procrastination is my greatest frenemy. To make it worse this isn't really a 'big important' chapter at all, but I did have a bit of trouble getting into Elena's voice again. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I'm very impatient for the next instalment of 'Heroes of Olympus', the Mark of Athena, so no, I'm obviously not dear old trolling Rick. I am very glad for the distraction of the Kane Chronicles book...of which the name has escaped me for the time being. Oh well.

At Fifth Ages' End

Ch. 5

I walked forward to the center of the archery range as the soft murmur of the crowd died down. I felt the wary, attentive gazes of the Apollo cabin burning into my back.

It is strange to be going up against competitors I actually have a chance, a good chance, to beat. The gods have been my only companions for 30 years, after all. Winning never really was an option. The best compliment I could expect was 'well enough. For a mortal', and that even from Artemis herself.

I shook myself out of my thoughts. Focus. Not the time for me to let my mind wander.

I eyed the seven targets that I had to shoot, exactly a hundred meters away. Trying to loosen my tense back muscles up, I glanced at Chiron, waiting for the signal to begin.

He gave a small nod.

Taking a quick breath, I drew my bowstring, feeling it slide between my fingers smoothly.

In one smooth motion, I swung my bow upwards and loosed the arrow, feeling rather than seeing the path it would take. As it spun on a direct course to the center of the target, I was already releasing the third arrow, too busy to watch each and every shot's magnificent flight towards the bullseye.

Full points. Beautiful.

And deadly, too, I suppose. Ares always tells me there's 'beauty in obsolete destruction'.

For a long, long moment, nobody spoke. I tried to ignore the feeling of Cabin Seven's disbelieving stares boring into me.

I should have abstained from participating in this contest. After all, I was already said to be the favored 'princess' of the Olympian gods. Nobody liked a...'teacher's pet', as they called it.

"It seems...we have a winner," Chiron said slowly. Even he seemed impressed. I glanced at the stands and wished they would do something other than gawp.

The Sisters of Fate must've had a turn of compassion, because all of a sudden the stands erupted into cheers. Even Apollo's campers found themselves swept up in the crowd's excitement and clapped, though perhaps a bit grudgingly. I managed to smile, knees trembling from relief. I dearly hoped nobody noticed. I would never be able to live it down with Aphrodite.

Just then, Mr. D appeared in the midst of the archery range, looking rather annoyed. The campers groaned at the sight of him and his tiger-pattern shirt. They only deigned to sit when Chiron sternly banged his hoof for silence, and even then did so reluctantly.

"I have urgent news," Mr. D said, looking bored and gazing straight at me. "The monsters are gathering fast; you need to stop them before they call me in to fight, which I won't, not so soon after that troublesome Titan War. Hurry up. That Prophecy of yours needs reciting."

I took a harsh breath, blowing it out hard. The campers mumbled to each other, confused and worried looks on their faces.

No point in delaying the inevitable. No time to let my mind wander.

We gathered in the amphitheatre. Very spacious, and with much too sensitive acoustics for my nerves.

"Listen up, bottlenoses! The gods have recently heard of a dangerous new threat, yadda, yadda, prophecy about it as usual, yadda, yadda. Oh, and Elena is actually 30, if you went by years." This was accompanied, of course, by lots of gasps and raised eyebrows. I did attempt a smile at this point, though I suspect it came out more than a little lopsided.

"When she fell unconscious, the Oracle ordained a prophecy." Dionysus had always had a flair for the dramatic, though he was don't-carish and cynical at times.

Everyone gazed at me with wide, nearly disbelieving eyes. I took a deep breath, squeezed my eyes shut, and recited those dreadful six lines.

"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 Age ends."

When I opened my eyes again, quite a few of the campers' expressions were thoroughly cowed. The surviving number of the forty demigods that had fought in the Great War recently had harsh, gaunt faces, as if they were remembering how it felt to have their prophecy revealed just before they set off to save Olympus. How I felt right about now.

I gulped down some non-existant saliva in my suddenly dry mouth, and continued.

"I have decided to go alone."

There was a loud, disbelieving chorus of whats and quite a few whys as well. Annabeth Chase, whom Athena was very proud of for undertaking the rebuilding of Olympus after the recent Titan War, and slightly miffed with for dating Perseus Jackson, caught my eye and shook her head adamantly.

I shook my head back decisively.

"No. I will not make this an official quest. I'd prefer to work alone." Even as I spoke, I wanted to hurt myself for telling such a lie, though I'm sure Hermes would have been proud of my seemingly calm demeanor. I was terrified. But I also hated asking for help.

That, added to the idea of having two demigods under my command, my responsibility, made me shudder. Especially when the chances of any of us surviving were as slim as a bowstring. The possibility of a quest member dying under my command had already begun tainting my nightmares.

Half-bloods muttered rebelliously at my proclamation, but no one stood up to volunteer themselves. I didn't blame them. Heroics and prideful thinking aside, I couldn't say without a shadow of doubt I would have offered myself.

Then, like the grave ending to a morbid joke, the last person I would have thought to volunteer, especially for a quest involving me, stood up. Rather leisurely, as if he was offering to walk down to the convenience store half a mile away to pick something up.

By Artemis' arrows, what does he think he is doing?

"I'll go," James Dorman, son of Morpheus, announced confidently. He looked me in the eye and dared me to refuse.

It wasn't that I hated him. He was annoying. But he was also very capable. I would have welcomed his presence if it didn't irritate me to no end. Boys, him in particular, were so cocky and confident of their own abilities. And they usually liked to prove it, as loudly as they possibly could.

Not to say he was loud at all. That would have been a major insult in his eyes.

But he always gave me a feeling of unease, like I should be checking if my shoelaces weren't all tied together. Or if my face was not smeared with grease. Or my back taped with an 'I'm retarded' sign.

I didn't really understand the term 'retarded'. I believe it meant strange in the most idiotic way possible. Like someone who was dropped on their head as a baby.

"We must remember that a quest requires 3 participants. It is important that we abide by the ancient decree, or there may be severe consequences," warned Chiron.

I opened my mouth to protest again, but before I could get a word in, a female camper rose.

"I volunteer."

She was younger than James and I, perhaps about fourteen. Black shoulder-length hair with cerulean highlights framed her face, a wave bouncing across her forehead. Her cheerful, confident smile matched her laughing brown eyes. She was slim, flexible like a gymnast, but rather short, just over five feet.

She was dressed in one of the standard orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, probably the only thing that was standard here. At camp, anything went. Her black skin-tight shorts ran down to her knees. On her feet were red running shoes, sneakers. She carried no weapon I could see, but a Pegasus keychain hung from her pocket, and, as she walked up to join me, I noted an interesting-looking clip on her belt.

"Christine Li. Daughter of Hermes. Nice to meet you," she greeted. I shook her hand, feeling myself trying for a smile again and succeeding. Her smile was infectious.

"You're from Asia, right? Not Asian-American?" asked James, who had also come to the center of the amphitheatre. "Just asking. I can't tell from the accent."

"Thank you. I worked at it," Christine replied, beaming up at his face, which was quite a way up for her. James was tall. I barely got to his ear; Christine stood an inch below his shoulder at best. "I am from China."

"Oh, wow," I enthused, forgetting about the crowds of people about me and the fact that the amphitheatre's acoustics meant everyone could hear every word I uttered. "Athena was always going on about its history, saying it was nearly as powerful as the Greek civilization, rivaling us in ingenuity."

James raised an eyebrow, arching it like a cat could arch its back.

"I was taught by the gods," I said, rather stupidly, upon reflection, but James was intimidating at times, both unconsciously and consciously.

"I can tell, princess," he drawled, looking down his nose at me unintentionally because of his superior height. I felt my bashfulness freeze into annoyance at the clear, cold disdain, my hand moving nearly unconsciously to my side, where one of my pair of hunting knives hung, unadorned with Mist since there were no mortals here besides Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

'RED', as she was called sometimes, was our resident Oracle. She had a lot of freckles, and some very colorful jeans, which I thought made her seem all the more endearing than an Oracle probably should have, at least according to Apollo. He also had a flair for the overdramatic, and always kept me up to speed (or at least, tried to) with the current trends of the mortals.

"I'll thank you not to call me princess," I said, in a quietly offended tone, and James opened his mouth to retort. Chiron only just managed to cut in before we began trading insults in earnest.

"You will leave first thing tomorrow for Mr. Othrys, at San Francisco. In the meantime, I suggest you three, and everyone else, return to their regular activities." His voice and tone would brook no argument, his wise brown eyes kind yet sad. I wondered suddenly how many times he had had to send his young heroes away, knowing their chances were so slim as to be non-existant. I wondered if he still hoped, after so many years, that they would succeed, knowing was it was like to hurt when they didn't.

I wondered if I would, if I was in such a position. If I would allow the wounds the chance to reopen and bleed over and over, if it meant I retained my humanity.

People slowly trickled away, resuming their camp activities, all the while probably wondering about the fate of the Western Civilization. Percy and Annabeth came over to the three of us, still standing the center of the amphitheatre together.

"I know what it's like to have a prophecy dumped on you, and I know it's not pretty," Percy told me reassuringly. "But I also know that they never turn out the way you think they will."

"I know," I replied, managing to keep my voice from shaking. Athena would have been proud of my self-control. "But, whichever way it turns out, I don't think it will all be roses and banquets."

"More like funerals and steles," murmured James. Annabeth shot him a glare and elbowed him in the ribs. "Ow! It was a unemotional observation!"

"Exactly," Annabeth deadpanned, hand resting on her hip. It served him right.

"Good luck," Annabeth said to me, grey eyes not unlike James full of cautious warning. "You'll need it. Call us if you want help, because there is no way we are sitting around letting just the three of you fight a monster army, quest or no quest." I nodded mutely in agreement, and Percy tousled Christine's hair before they left.

"Well," James said, shoving his hands into his jean pockets and turning to face us. "I'll see you both tomorrow, I guess. Last one to Peleus at dawn gets to carry the stuff."