Enjoy the next chapter!
Disclaimer: I do not own Ranger's Apprentice or Percy Jackson & The Olympians. All rights go to their respectful owners.
Percy's POV
The last thing I saw was the sunlight, slowly fading away as I fell. The sounds of battle ringed through my ears. I braced myself, waiting for the sudden impact, and for my life to end.
I didn't know how long I've been falling. It seemed like eternity. I opened my eyes, but all I saw was darkness. It enveloped me, and I felt like I was suffocating in the darkness.
Suddenly, I saw a dim light. Was I already dead? I fumbled in my pocket for Riptide, and I pulled out the pen, gripping it tightly. I let my body fall limp as I waited for the crushing impact of me
splatting the ground like a pancake. Nothing came. Instead, the light grew brighter, and I squinted my eyes as it became almost blinding.
Then, out of nowhere, there was a flash of blue, then a flash of dull green; all jumbled together until my head spun. Without warning, I felt a sudden impact, and strangely, I felt no pain. Laying flat on my back, my brain finally processed what was happening.
I felt soft grass brushing my bare arms. A soft moan escaped my lips as I moved my head to the side. I was in a meadow, encircled by large trees. I winced as I slowly pushed my self up into a sitting position. Where was I? I fumbled for Riptide in my pocket, and uncapped it.
I rubbed my eyes, and slowly stood up. The world spun as I felt a wave of nausea overcoming me. I doubled over, holding my sides, and waited for the nausea to end. I staggered to the nearest tree and leaned my head against the rough bark of the trunk, inhaling and exhaling slowly.
Finally, after a few minutes of catching my breath, I trudged over to the tree-line and pushed my
way through the bramble bushes and low-lying branches. A few minutes later, I broke through the trees. Rolling hills and valleys stretched out before me, with plenty of groups of trees dotting the countryside.
This was definitely not Camp Half-Blood. This might not even be in North America. I shaded my
eyes with my hands from the glaring afternoon sun, and did a full 360 view of my position. I spotted something far off in the distance. Small puffs of smoke floated in the air, before dissipating into the breeze.
Where there was smoke, there's fire. Where there's a fire, there must be habitants somewhere
nearby. Sluggishly, I slowly made way towards the smoke. Sure enough, a squat, cozy cabin came into view. My entire body seemed to get heavier with every step I took. I almost wanted to just lie down and….No. I couldn't do that. I had to get through this. With slightly renewed hope, I increased my pace.
As I got closer and closer to the cabin, my body got even weaker. If only I could just reach the house...I shook my head to clear it. As I walked, only then did I realize that my Achilles' curse wasn't as effective as I thought. The pain wasn't instant. It gradually came, like poison.
I got within twenty meters of the house, until I just collapsed. My body heaved as I greedily gulped down air, laying in the grass. My last thought was of Annabeth's face before everything went dark.
3rd Person POV
Will, Halt, and Horace sat around the small round table in Will's cabin, each with a cup of fresh coffee in their hands. The trio had sent out a word to the Ranger Corps, in hope that they could get in contact with Alyssa. Nobody was in the mood right now. Will sipped from his mug, but the coffee was tasteless to him. His mind was on Alyssa. He loved Alyssa like a younger sister, and with her gone, there was almost a piece of him missing.
Horace and Halt were staying over at Seacliff for the night before they make their trip back to Castle Araluen for Horace, and Redmont for Halt. Will sighed again and put his head in his hands.
Horace looked at his friend with concern.
"Will...maybe we should-" He was interrupted by Tug and Abelard's braying from outside. At this, Will and Halt's head snapped up. The Ranger horses were trained to not make a sound unless it was a warning.
"There must be a stranger out there," Halt whispered, sneaking quietly to the window. He risked a quick glance. There was a boy...laying a couple meters from the porch.
"Will!" Halt hissed, gesturing to the window. "There's a boy passed out in the front yard."
Will stood abruptly, his chair screeching on the wood floor. He looked out the window over Halt's shoulder. Halt was right. A boy that looked to be in his late teens, was sprawled, face up, in the grass.
"We should go see if he's alive," Will suggested briefly. He didn't wait for an answer, and he hurried out the door. Horace and Halt were right on his heels.
Will kneeled over the boy, and brushed away the dirt off his face. Will pressed his thumb on the boy's wrist, checking for a pulse. There was barely anything there. Will propped up the boy's head on his lap, gently crooning soft words.
"Get a canteen," he addressed Horace briefly. The warrior nodded and ran back into the house.
Halt quickly did a once-over on the boy to check for open wounds. Luckily, there were none, other than a few light scratches here and there.
"My guess is that he's unconscious from either hunger, dehydration, or exhaustion. There aren't any visible wounds on him," Halt said, sitting back on his haunches. Will pursed his lips and nodded. He looked at the garb the boy was wearing, and frowned.
"Strange clothing. Never seen it in Araluen. Perhaps he's a foreigner?" Will gestured to the bright orange shirt that the boy was wearing, which had the words 'Camp Half-Blood' written on it.
Halt's eyebrows furrowed. "It could be possible. We'll have to ask him about it once he wakes up," he replied.
Horace came back with a leather canteen, and he handed it Will. Will unstoppered it and gently opened the boy's mouth. Will trickled the water into his mouth, and he swallowed it automatically.
Horace, Will, and Halt sat in anticipation for a few seconds. Then the boy finally sputtered and coughed, his eyes fluttering open. His sea-green eyes were like the eyes of a deer cornered by a wolf. He looked around in alarm, breathing hard, with beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.
"It's alright. We won't hurt you. What's your name?" Will asked gently, putting a hand on the boy's shoulder.
The boy's voice quivered as he spoke. "M-my name's...Percy Jackson."
Oooh! Bet you didn't see that coming! (Or maybe you did :P) Anyways, I'd like to thank Bright Eyes Illusionist for giving me the idea of putting Percy in Araluen! I was originally thinking of having Percy held captive by some evil Titan or God or something...but I think this idea is better ;)
Hope you guys liked this chapter! Feedback much appreciated!