How dare this chapter do this too me. It's too long, I can't fit everything I wanted into it. Perhaps this is a sign I should be less long winded, but alas, I would not be myself if I shortened my writing.
And thus, you lovely readers shall receive two more chapters after this. One more of camp, and one with bonus scenes (both canon and not) that have been planned and requested both.
This chapter is nearly 8k words, so I hope you enjoy the heavy imbalance of chapter lengths from the beginning of the story till now.
Come yell at me on my tumblr: Percabeth4Life
Come chat with me on discord: h-t-t-p-s : / discord . gg / 3tGNJhu
OO OO OO OO
The day was hot from the first rays over the horizon. Apollo's chariot rose early with pink rays curling over the camp. Helios' light beat down upon the camp with an uncompromising intent to burn away grief and pain and loss.
The Ancient Greeks believed fire purified, and even now we know fire burns away impurities. You heated your food to make it safe, you burned a blade to clean it, you sent up offerings in purifying flames. The sun was not quite fire, but it was close enough that I imagined Helios and Apollo had turned their cleansing heat upon us on this day, a blessing, a mercy.
A torture.
Annabeth agreed with me, offering sunscreen early in the day as we settled to do our readings on the myths. I wasn't likely to burn like she was, but my mom had encouraged me young to be sure to use sunscreen to prevent health issues.
The sunscreen smeared on the pages, white staining crisp parchment. Annabeth used her shirt to wipe it off, smearing faint oils into the page. It was a copy, not the original, and so she didn't mind too much.
Not today.
We were tucked near the lake, a cool breeze ruffling our hair from the blue water. The shade of the trees was a balm on our skin as we leaned over the parchment to read the myth of Icarus.
I thought it fitting to read it today, with the sun beating down on us.
Icarus had flown high, higher than he should've. Drunk with freedom, wings spread wide as he'd soured free at long last. The sun had melted his wings, Helios' touch uncompromising and merciless as it had burned the wax, melting the wings until he shed feathers and tumbled from the heavens, falling to be embraced by the sea.
I wondered how it had felt, the sun shining on skin that had been trapped for so long. How the wind felt when one had been encased in stone for so long. How it felt to be free after being chained for so long.
Had he looked up, looked at the sun on a day like today, and reached for the burning warmth of Helios? Had he thought it worth it to fall if only for the moment that he had flown?
I wondered if Helios and Apollo had looked upon him as he'd fallen, if They'd realized that Their blessing, Their kindness, Their divine light shining upon the world had caused his fall. Or if They'd shaken Their heads at his hubris as he'd fallen and fallen and fallen from heights he never should've reached. Or even if They'd cradled his form as he'd fallen, honored by his joy and worship as he'd flown as close to them as he could, as he'd reached for the sun and tumbled into the sun struck ocean.
I wondered what They thought when Icarus fell.
I wiped my forehead, pushing a loose curl back as I leaned over the analysis written with Annabeth. The words curling over the page in ancient writing rewritten by modern hands.
I wondered if Apollo had set out to make today hot, hot as the sun that had melted Icarus' wings. If Apollo was doing so for the grief we had faced, or for the simple act of bringing heat forth and warming the land.
I wondered if it was Apollo, today, who had decided such. If the Gods decided the weather beyond what Their emotions guided it to be. Was there a schedule for the various pantheons? Did They control much, or simple exist as it was? They could guide it, if they chose to, for it was Them. But did They?
Did the Gods act on the weather, did They follow the strands of Fate to do so? Or was acting on such defying Fate? Were They always the hand that guided our affects? Or simply the light that guided our land. Did They guide that which Their worshipper stood on, beside, in? Or did They act with prayer and devotion?
If I stood in Rome would it be the Roman Gods that embodied the land?
I knew in the sea, in the ocean deep, the waters were ruled by Their pantheon in Their currents. And in the currents where They were not the All Mighty, They held a say alongside Their devotees. Was that the same for the sun, the sky, the trees and breeze and light and dark?
I didn't know, and yet I wondered. Perhaps I would never know, perhaps the answer was simply beyond me. Annabeth held no answer when I asked her, only stating that it was to our Gods, our Family, that she looked.
I mulled over it as Annabeth spoke, explaining the intricacies of the myth and the lessons it held.
The myth we held was from Ovid, who was no mythographer but did tell stories that reflected the ancient myths. She compared it to our myths, the Greek not the Roman. Ovid was no Greek and held no authority on the Greek mythos. But it was good, at times, to read what he'd written if only for all that it guided other beliefs.
Annabeth once told me that the hatred spiders held for children of Athena didn't come from Athena, but from Minerva. She didn't know why the anger turned to them as well, for it was not her Mother who had created Arachne.
A laugh like the chime of bells caught my attention as Annabeth finished her explanation, and our gaze was drawn to the figure walking towards us.
Lapu, from the Demeter cabin, was heading towards us. Her hair was tied up into the two flat buns she favored, bangs framing her face. She was wearing jeans as well, as if it wasn't far far too hot for jeans.
I wiped sweat away and squinted towards her, the sun shining bright and brilliant around her.
"You seem hot," she laughed.
"It's miserably hot," Annabeth groaned, tucking a loose strand of her own back once more. "It's gotta be like, ninety-something."
"Eighty-four, I think," Lapu corrected cheerfully. "Which is a very nice spring temperature in my opinion."
I eyed her doubtfully, "This is the peak of summer heat."
"You should spend a summer in Arizona, see how that feels."
She grinned at us and cheerfully explained just how hot it got in Arizona. I decided she was banned from commenting on heat when she revealed that it wasn't uncommon for temperatures to reach a hundred and ten in Arizona.
That was just insanity.
OO OO OO OO
My time with Annabeth came to an end and I returned to Leilani at my cabin. She, had taken a nice long (cool) break in our waterfall bath and was all set to step into the heat.
It was solar noon, and we had our solstice rites to complete—if a bit late.
Our sundial, which we had made before the quest, needed to be set out.
It was the only Poseidon sundial set out in the area, the first in many years. It was not only for Poseidon, we included elements for Psamathe as well.
The base dusty and sanded to reflect the beach, dotted shells painted on and gleaming with the gold paint that Leilani had mixed with the softer tans and dashes of white and brown. It wasn't perfect, not the smoothest nor the most elegant nor even reaching every crevice. But it was done with love, by our own hands and with Tyson's hands as well. We'd designed, crafted, and painted it ourselves.
Tyson had designed the cresting wave that made up the gnomon, leaving the shadow of the time on the plate which I had designed. Each time was marked with a shell, rather than a number. It reflected the four tides which made up the ocean days. And then the base, crafted for Leilani's Mother, was designed by Leilani herself.
It wasn't the prettiest sundial out there, it wasn't the most elegant, it wasn't perfect by any measure. The beach had flaws, the wave arced a bit awkwardly, the shells were misshapen in places… but we made it.
It was our devotion, crafted by our hands. It was the first sundial made for Poseidon in years, and the first made for Psamathe possibly ever.
And so, despite its flaws… it was perfect.
OO OO OO OO
The water before me glittered in the fading light. The sunset streaking the sky a thousand shades of pink and red and orange and purple. Glints of gold and deep blues touched the heavens as Apollo brought the chariot to its home for the night.
The breeze ruffled my hair, catching in Carl's and relenting to his hairs refusal to move.
It had been too long since I saw Carl, only a few days but after years of having him in the cabin, in my room, by my side, it was an eternity.
He was no longer a goldfish, he was a human once more. A human older than me… and it was strange.
He'd told me of what he'd been doing. During the battle he'd been assigned to the forest as backup. He'd not fought in years and had been a fish for much of the time, and thus Lord D and Minos hadn't wanted to throw him straight into a fight.
And yet there was no option for him to not fight, not if the battle had reached within the camp.
Since then he'd been in the Big House, deciding what he wanted with his life.
He had a grave stone in the camp's cemetery, and his mother had long since been informed of his death. He was six years gone, six years dead and passed and the world had moved on.
They'd waited a year before declaring him dead, waited a year before going to his mother and giving their condolences and a shroud made for her own choice of act. A separate shroud had been burned in lieu of a body at the camp, and the ashes interned in the cemetery.
He was only fifteen in body, he explained, Lord D had identified his age nearly to the moment. He was supposed to be twenty-three. He hadn't aged a day since he'd taken the form of a guinea pig, or a goldfish.
I ached for him, for the way the world had moved on and he'd remained in place.
He had dreams, yet no identity any longer. He had had friends, loved ones, a mother. Yet he did not know if his mother was even still there. She could have moved, or died, or even created a new family.
He'd never truly expected to be human again, and he admitted to me, softly and with a broken voice, that he'd almost not wished to be human again. He'd understood, he'd realized, what it meant for him if he returned to his proper form.
He had been left behind.
Now he needed to… needed to refind himself, find his new dreams and new path and new home.
He wasn't going to stay at camp, not for the school year. He needed time.
He told me he was going to go to a mortal school, one that Lord D was arranging for him. One of his siblings had gotten permission from their parents to let him stay with them for the year.
"Fiona lives in Georgia," he said. "She said there was plenty to see and do. They live in- in Savannah I think she called it? There's a big arts college there. It's by the ocean too, or I think it is. It has a big body of water at least. She said it has a store that sells the best fudge that there is and there's plenty to do-"
"Will you stay in touch?" I asked softly, nervously. He was no longer bound to me, no longer stuck with me because there was no one else who could understand him. Would he want to speak with me?
"Of course!" Carl assured, lips curling up into something bright and mischievous and alive. "What would you do without me around? I definitely saved your butt lots of times."
My lips turned up without my permission even as I rolled my eyes. He had a life to live, a life to figure out. It would be strange without him, without his thoughts and opinions given freely and insistently. I had Hippolyta and Ran of course, but Carl- Carl had been the first. It would be different.
I didn't want that to change. I didn't like change.
"Hey," Carl said. "I'm not gonna be gone. I'm just… I'm going to go to school for a bit, and maybe try to find my mom. Lord D is making me an identity and I'll be alright."
I nodded, reluctant to accept the change but knowing I had no choice. I wondered if it was just his mom he wanted to find.
"Did you have any friends?" I asked. "Like- demigods, ones you might want to talk to?"
Carl was silent as he looked out at the lake.
A naiad knocked over a boat, the sailors spluttering as they came up and arguing with the naiad who laughed like bubbles rippled. The lake lapped gently at the pier as the naiad melted away and left the sailors who had been forced to become swimmers to swim to shore. Their grumbles were too soft to hear from our position, with the water rippling and laughing at their words.
Laughter echoed from further away, campers playing games and reading and running and living. A volleyball tournament had been started earlier in the day, though I'd refrained from joining. I could see some campers chasing each other through the grass beyond the lake, laughter twinkling and chiming as they did.
The camp was healing.
"There's some people, I suppose. I wasn't alone at camp."
I turned my gaze to Carl, uncertain and hesitant at the pain that laced his voice. It clung to him like Hippolyta did my fingers, unwilling to let go and unable to be removed.
"Carl?"
"Sometimes," Carl said softly. "Sometimes, no matter how important something is, no matter how much honor it could bring you, or even how necessary it is… sometimes some quests just aren't worth it."
He turned to me with a smile while I frowned at him, confused. The air was filled with grief, with regret, with longing. His eyes reflected blood, a glint of flint and steel with a ring of blades.
"What-"
"Remember though!" Carl interrupted, too-wide smile stretching his lips as he looked past me. "You can always stab the problem! Also, avoid spas."
I snorted and allowed him to push the strangeness aside in favor of a long played out debate. "We already faced Kiki's spa!"
"You never know," he insisted, eyes looking at me now. "There's always trouble."
I shoved his arm and relaxed at his laugh. He swayed over, easily accepting the push, before swaying back with both arms thrown out against my own. With a neat shove he knocked me clean off the pier.
"Hey!" I shrieked, tumbling into the water with a splash of crystalline water. The coolness of the lake soothed the lingering heat on my skin. "Unfair!"
Carl just laughed, laughed like someone who was on the verge of crying. His head was thrown back as he dropped against the pier, giggling madly with tears clinging to his lashed. The sun shown red on his hair as I pulled myself from the water and wondered at the grief in his steel-edged eyes even as he kept a smile on his lips.
OO OO OO OO
The Council of Elders amongst the satyrs were apparently in charge of all things search and rescue, for demigods and Lord Pan alike.
And today was Grover's day to explain to them his Search and what he'd Found.
The woolly mammoth was a rather useful demonstration that he was onto something. And no matter the politics at play, the way that eyes gleamed with something more than devotion, it was unanimous that Momo was a sign from Pan.
The biggest sign any had received yet.
They were babbling over each other, the council and all the other satyrs that had arrived for the meeting. Their volume rose steadily as they continued on, shouts ringing out and decisions being made.
There was hope in the air, something invigorating the crowds present. Pan had left a sign, Pan was there. I smiled as Grover stood tall and waited for a decision to be made even as they continued to speak above his head.
"-send more searches, and soon! We mustn't lose this lead-"
"-Florida. So send them there-"
"Grover must be sent-"
"-keep him here with the-"
"-was a cave so we should-"
"-in no cave, that's practically blasphemy-"
"-were just in a normal cave he'd be found by now!"
"-underground?"
"Preposterous!"
"Perhaps a tree hide away-"
"-side of a mountain? Did we check the Rockies? Or the-"
"-lots of ground we need to cover-"
I listened, tucked to the side and watching alongside Annabeth and Leilani and the Demeter cabin and many campers from many cabins as the Council spoke.
Lord D reigned above them all, lounging in a chair in the center of the group. They had been surprised when he'd arrived, a chair curling from the ground out of grape vines for him to claim. He hadn't spoken beyond a lazy greeting and a demand for food.
But his eyes had never left Grover.
Even now he watched Grover, intent and thoughtful. The purple eyes danced with madness and power and a deep abiding calm. Something knowing gleamed there as he looked upon Grover and I wondered what it was he saw.
Momo the Woolly Mammoth was sitting just behind Grover, and while Grover stood straight now just minutes earlier had seen him leaning against his new companion for comfort and assurance.
Just when I wondered if the Council would ever make a decision and cease their babbling, Lord D spoke.
"The first order of business should be arranging a new home for… Momo."
The satyrs practically fell over themselves agreeing, even as Lord D's eyes stayed on Grover.
"Underwood shall be in charge of his care," Lord D declared. "Save for the time he will spend searching for demigods."
"Searching for- now is not the time to search for demigods!" shrieked one of the Council.
"Oh?" Lord D asked, gaze finally leaving Grover to land on the satyr. "Is that what you believe, Leneus?"
Leneus flinched back at Lord D's question but nodded all the same.
"We must dedicate all of our resources to finding Lord Pan," Leneus insisted. "We don't have time to split our forces between demigods and Lord Pan-"
"Pan does not wish to be found," Lord D said softly. "Not at this time. If he did, he would have allowed Underwood to find him, instead of his gift. Now is the time to dedicate towards the missing and fleeing and unknowing demigods. There are many out there, right now, in need of guidance."
"But-"
Lord D tilted his head, purple eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light as the sun shown gold on his form.
"Underwood will be sent to find more demigods. There is war on the horizon, and there are children out and about who will be caught in the cross fire. We must guide as many to safety as possible, even if that safety is not camp."
His head swiveled back to Grover, who swallowed hard and straightened.
"Do you understand?"
Grover nodded, "Ye- yes Lord D."
And with that, the matter was closed.
OO OO OO OO
I relaxed in the bed with Leilani and Drew, giggling over Annabeth, Silena, Tyrone, and Halia stumbled over Halmaheran words.
Giovanni and Aarya were actually fairly good at Halmaheran, or at least better than the others. It made for an amusing practice session.
They'd all wanted to try to learn after Annabeth had demonstrated what she'd learned during the quest, and thus a practice session had begun.
"Maie'm maiv hoo-up opu," Tyrone said carefully.
"Close," I said with a grin. "But you need to separate the 'Maie' and 'em' more clearly, and its 'houp' not 'hoo-up'."
Tyrone scowled as he tried again to pronounce the greeting correctly.
Annabeth was stumbling through a rough conversation with Leilani, who was feeling very confident in her skills now that she was practicing with someone less confidant than her in the language. I let her correct Annabeth's pronunciation of "isenop" and "iamaka" rather than doing so myself and contented myself with helping the others with greeting and goodbye phrases once more.
"Op mey'v tel hah-ma-peep ye wash-a-shu," Silena tried carefully only to pout when I shook my head.
"Not quite. You removed the 'e' in 'meye'v', it's an important sound otherwise it means 'new life' instead of 'may have'. Also, it's 'opu', not 'op'."
Silena nodded, brow furrowed. "Did I get the rest right?"
I winced, "Er… not quite? You kinda got the start of 'hamapep', but the 'pep' is short, not long. And the 'y' doesn't really pronounce an 'e' at the end? It's kinda implied… not sure how to explain. Oh, and it's 'wasahu', there's no 'sh' sound in it."
Silena nodded carefully mouthing the words again as she tried to get her tongue around them.
It was peaceful to sit with them and just practice Halmaheran. They were all curious, they wanted to learn. It was nice to share a small bit of my language with them.
OO OO OO OO
The two animals for offerings arrived just in time for the offerings to be completed, on the fourth day from Minos' announcement. There was a young ox, not quite young enough to be considered a calf but too young to be full grown. Alongside the ox were two sheep, with bright white wool.
The day before he called all of the cabin heads in, to explain our roles in the offering. It was… a bit nerve wracking. We'd never done a proper offering before. We'd done offerings but nothing like what Minos was describing.
As the one who promised the offerings to the Gods, I would be the one to do the actual act of killing the animals and sprinkling their blood on the altar, which- that was a bit intimidating.
The others would be completing the other acts of the sacrifice, preparing the animals, leading them to the altar that Minos had had others set up, pouring the water upon the altar to cleanse it, and after I finished with killing the animals for the sacrifice, they would be the ones to dress the animals and remove the parts for the offering and for the feast afterwards.
Those that weren't actually doing the physical steps for the offering would still have a part, as it was important for all present to be willing participants, including the animals.
It was nerve wracking, but I had been giving precise instructions and I would follow them. The Gods were owed their offerings after the aid they'd given.
And thus, the time of the offerings arrived only a short period before sunset and I stood before the temporary altar placed outside the dining pavilion.
The dining pavilion was decorated for once, as per Minos' decree. Streamers and ribbons and flowers and wreaths hung all around. The tables had special cloths laid over them, and the cutlery shone silver in the sunset.
The head table, where Lord D would sit, was specially decorated with gathered flowers and a laurel wreath placed before his seat.
The procession leading the animals was led by Castor, Pollux, and Eliza. Beckendorf aided in corralling the animals whenever they got distracted, or reluctant, or rowdy. Many campers followed behind, and many more were already waiting at the altar.
The animals were prepared for the offering, cleaned and fed and watered. Their fur was brushed to a shine, with flowers and ribbons tied in. They tromped forward willingly, seemingly unconcerned with the people around them or what was to come.
Silena stepped forward, as the animals were led to a stop beside the altar. In her hands was a lovely vase, though I was unsure where it was from. It was simple black with pink reliefs painted along its sides.
She lifted the vase over the altar, brow furrowed in concentration as she slowly poured its contents, crystal clear water which splashed across the altar alongside her prayer and purified it.
She continued to pour the cleansing water over the altar until the vase was empty and her words dried up. When she was done, she bowed, just once, and stepped back to stand alongside Clarisse.
That was the signal for the crowds gathered to add themselves to the ritual, and they did quite eagerly.
Whether there were traitors in our midst or not, everyone was quite excited to get to throw various grains and barley seeds at the altar and the animals.
Several spoke prayers as they did, several watched with nervous eyes, several more watched bright eyed as the first animal, the ox, was led before the altar.
It was Lee who stepped forward to pour another vase of water over the head of the ox, its head bowing forward
The altar itself was purified by Silena, who poured sparkling clean water over it with a murmured prayer that echoed with intent. She stepped back once the water ran clean off the altar as onto, holding the vase she'd poured the water out of tightly and close to her chest as the next part began.
Each of the campers tossed various grains forward, some grinning as they threw large handfuls, some praying as they sprinkled pinches, some with narrow eyes as they lazily flicked the odd grain, and some still solemn but bright as they treated it as a celebration.
Annabeth stepped forward as the grains dwindled and placed bowls of fruit and bread before the altar, carefully arranged in bright piles of glistening strawberries, shining apples, juicy grapes, succulent pears, and mouthwatering blackberries. No doubt there were more goodies hidden within the bowls, out of sight, but even what was visible was enough to make my mouth water. The breads as well were homemade, with sumptuous garlic bread, copious pita bread, warm fresh rye, bubbled naan, and various stuffed rolls piled high in the bowls she placed before the altar.
It was a small change to the ritual, one that Minos wasn't happy to have to do but in respect for the vegan and vegetarian campers he had done so.
He had spoken at length with those raised in Muslim and Jewish households to determine whether they would be able to consume the meat. As none of the Muslim campers were religiously so, they had determined that so long as all but the bismillah was done properly, to make it halal, they were comfortable eating the meat.
Kaia, from the Hermes cabin, was the one to explain the requirements for Halal meat, which would coincidentally be met by the offering process… except for the fact that the butcher was to say bismillah as they slaughtered the animal. As I was not Muslim, and this was dedicated to our Gods, we would not be doing so. But Kaia assured us that she did not mind in this case, as she did not honor the Muslim God, and the food being in the name of God (as she explained bismillah meant) was not relevant to her.
I wondered how one could balance such different religions, I wasn't sure I would have been able to do so. Keeping to the traditions she was raised in, even while honoring completely different Gods seemed difficult.
The Jewish campers had varying opinions from what I had heard, with each feeling differently about the meat not being Kosher.
And it couldn't be Kosher, not when I (as the one doing the slaughter) was very much not Jewish, and in addition not trained as a shochet.
Valentina from the Aphrodite cabin didn't mind it not being Kosher, as she didn't follow Kashrut law strictly. Aria, a camper I didn't know well but was from the Hermes cabin (unclaimed) also didn't mind too much, she tried to keep to Kosher practices for the most part, she explained, but didn't mind not doing so closely.
But Fiona, who Carl would be staying with in the upcoming school year, was a Hasidic Jew, and apparently followed Kosher law very closely. In the end she determined that as this was alright for her to eat, as it was an extremely traditional part of the offering and it was to honor the Gods… but she didn't look entirely comfortable with it.
Minos informed her that if she did not wish to eat it, she could stick to the fruit or bread that was being offered up as well. I wasn't sure if she would end up eating the offering, in the end, or not but she had the option.
Regardless of such, Minos had carefully planned out the other offerings and thus many of the campers had gotten together to gather the fruits and to bake the breads, to ensure many were included in the ceremony.
Annabeth stepped back, having determined the bowls were placed correctly, and it was time for Eliza to lead the ox forward to the altar.
Katie stepped forward, a jug of water held in her hands much like Silena had held. She stepped beside the ox and murmured a prayer as she tipped the jug over the ox's head.
"O Divine Gods," she murmured, "We welcome you today, in this moment. Bless this ox that we have set before you, and as we have promised, as is owed, accept the offering that is laid before you."
The ox's head bowed from the water, and it shook its head as she stepped back once more to stand beside me.
Lee hovered next to me himself, holding another jar, though this one empty. I took a deep breath and stepped forward.
Prayer fell from my lips as I guided the strangely obedient ox's head back. Prayer for the offering, prayer to the Gods, thanks and devotion tumbling over each other and wrapping around my blade as I pressed it to the ox's neck. The words were long practiced over the previous few days, Minos' eyes and ears attuned to each word, each intonation, each expression I wore as I spoke.
"We thank thee, Mighty Gods," I spoke with a smooth cadence, a practiced tone and familiar words. The prayer spilled from my lips with nary a thought, the words easing out like silverfish darting through the currents. "We give thanks and offer unto you as promised this strong-willed ox, the guardian of its herd. Allow us to honor you, as we ought, and accept the offering we lay before you now, delivered to your table with thanks. O Divine Gods, oh Rulers of the Heavens, Your guidance was a force unto no other, which delivered our salvation in the battle that has passed. We honor you now, our thanks immeasurable, as we fulfill our vow offered freely upon the eve of bloodshed."
It was daunting, standing before everyone with the ox in one hand and the blade in another. Divinity pressed like a cloak over my shoulders, the weight of Godly gazes on my back. I pressed the blade firmly and sliced deep and quick across the ox's neck.
It needed to be deep and quick, to welcome all of the campers and to offer mercy to the ox as was proper in this offering. It needed to be smooth, so I wouldn't lose my nerve.
I stepped back with prayer-stained lips and blood-stained hands as Lee slipped forward on light feet to place the large jar, or perhaps vase would be more fitting with its size, before the bleeding animal to gather the blood. It was to be drained of all blood, and which was then to be offered upon the altar.
I took a deep breath as the next animal was drawn forth, one of the two sheep.
Katie stepped forward once more as Eliza kept the ox in place so that the blood could drain out and Lee stepped back to retrieve another of the vases for the blood.
Her water poured over the sheep's head, bowing it and giving its consent for the offering it had become.
As her water cleaned the sheep, bowed its head and cleansed its fur, Annabeth slipped beside me with a bowl of water to wash my hands and blade with. It was prepared special, though I was unsure if it held a special name. Khernips, perhaps, or another type of lustral water for purification.
Whatever it was, I washed and cleaned and then stepped forward once more as Katie stepped back.
Prayer tumbled from my lips once more, familiar and practiced, known and honored. The Gods gazes were upon us as my blade cut deep and clean across the neck, through the jugular vein, the carotid artery, and the windpipe in a smooth cut.
The blade was sharp, the action near painless, and the sheep was dead in moments.
Once more my hands were stained with blood, with an offering, with prayer. I let Annabeth guide me through cleaning once more as Katie and Lee completed their parts, the dance of the ritual taking place once more.
One more offering, one more prayer and one more cut, and then I was done with the blade and done with my part beside the altar.
I stepped forward once more and allowed the prayer to slip out like a minnow, quick and smooth and eager. The words pulled from my lips like the Gods breathed them in, weight like wings upon my back and a crown upon my head. When my hand slipped the knife across the last sheep's throat I felt no resistance, only warmth and stardust and gold silver bronze upon my lips.
I stepped back the last time, allowing Annabeth to guide me through cleaning my hands and blade before stepping back fully, by her side as we awaited the others part in the ritual.
My lips tingled with what had been spoken, taste of sunlight on my tongue and ozone on my skin. Chimes rang out, echoing in my ears like the gentle tinkling of a bell.
I was wrapped in a cloak of starlight as I stood next to Annabeth, and I wondered if this was how all of these offerings felt. If all who stood before the Gods and offered up something great felt their gaze and held their approval in divine light and twinkling stars on your skin.
I breathed in as Beckendorf and Clarisse and Lee and Katie worked together to butcher the ox, Eliza and Castor on one of the sheep, and Silena and Pollux on the final one.
Annabeth and I were to prepare the fire, to offer up some of the fruit and some of the bread into the flame before the bone and fat was laid upon it and the meat prepared for the feast.
The two of us got to work, fire wood in hand and arranged neatly. The dry bundles to ease the lighting of the fire were pressed inside, tucked where they would be the most aid. Small branches were arranged as well, following the directions that Minos had given us.
We'd practiced building the fire, the day before. Minos was well informed on how to do most everything involved in the offerings and was determined to pass that on to us before he returned to his responsibilities in the Underworld.
I stepped away to allow Lee to do his part, blood on the altar, fingers stained with devotion. I clutched the flint and steel needed to light the fire and watched the altar bleed red as Lee sprinkled the blood over it.
He stepped away, allowing me to step forward and strike the flint. Sparks gleamed. I struck again, more sparks, warmth at my fingertips. The next strike rang through my hands, sparks catching on dry bundles and warming in slow rumbling embers.
And like a beast waking after a long winter, the embers blossomed, unfurling in petals of flame it licked up the bundles, gnawed at the twigs, leaped for the branches, then with a rush of hunger and freedom and delight, surged upon the logs. Light and flame alike surged up in a dizzying awakening that sent heat blazing across my skin, kissing my cheeks with a fierce joy, a delighted freedom, a blessed life.
I basked in the feeling, welcoming the warmth that soaked right down to my bones, alight with flickering flames so against my nature.
Lee stepped forward, spilling more blood into the fire, feeding the hungry flames with yet more blood that they leaped for. They licked at his fingers, blood steaming and slipping from his hands. It fed the flames bit by bit until they leapt high into the sky, a miniature sun of our own, hungry and all-consuming.
Their delight filled the air, and I wasn't the only one struck speechless by the sight. The campers were quiet, awe dancing and tumbling and skipping through the air and feeding straight into the offering fire.
I wondered if it were as much an offering as the animals set before it.
Annabeth left my side then, stepping forward with a bowl filled with bread in hand. She carefully picked out the finest pieces, near the top for easy grasp, and tossed them into the flames. One of each kind, two of each filling, the flames snapped them up with eager tongues and hunger maws.
That was my cue, I realized, it was my turn to feed the fire.
I swooped down to retrieve the fruit bowl, delicacies of the harvest overflowing from it. We weren't done yet, there was much left to the offering, but despite that… despite the work and the strain and the practice we had to work at…
I rather thought I'd want to do this again.
It was… Divine.
OO OO OO OO
The feast after was nothing short of extraordinary. The meat was perfectly spiced, cooked to a level I'd never had before. The fruits and breads added just the right side, and for those who could not eat the meat, allowed them to participate in the offering all the same.
The food had been cooked in the hearth fire, prepared with our own hands. The stew beside it was likewise cooked so and was the best I'd had beyond my mom's kanuche soup.
We sat freely, without care for cabin boundaries as we had at the funeral, and I wondered at joy filling the air.
Even with the loss, even with the anger that many held, this was a time of community.
I basked in the feeling and let the joy fill me as I laughed alongside Annabeth at a story from Clarisse.
OO OO OO OO
I considered the various cubby holes in the seating area. It was where Leilani and I hung out together to do our things, and also where we'd stored all of Tyson's belongings.
Belongings which were now hidden with an elegant hippocampi scaled curtain that neither of us had put there. I barely dared to assume it was my Metua that did so, but it seemed the obvious answer.
An answer that had made me ask Leilani if we'd ever properly made an altar for Poseidon and the home Gods, to which she'd confirmed we hadn't.
I remembered that we'd planned on it, we'd discussed it previously. We'd had ideas for it, but things had been busy so we just… hadn't gotten around to it.
But we had time now. So… we were deciding where to put it.
"Do we want it out in the open? Or hidden for us?"
"I kinda want it for us," Leilani mused. "I know the Hermes cabin keeps ou- their altar tucked away in the back where it's private."
I nodded, "Though the Aphrodite cabin has one on each side of the cabin, it's open enough."
"Yeah, but this one… it's ours," she said, and I couldn't help but agree.
Just as Tyson's items were hidden away, so too I felt the altar should be. It was ours, our dedication and worship to the Gods in our home. We shared our communal worship with the others, but for this, for our own home where we would kneel and pray and honor them for our home… that was private.
That wasn't to share.
And so, we wouldn't.
There were plenty of cubbies, of all shapes and sizes. The walls seemed designed to allow private spots to store things, hidden from view with angled openings or open and visible for decorations. Many others had curtains to cover them, hiding what was within from view but easy to access all the same.
I decided on one of those for the Home Deities, the ones we honored on the New Moon on land.
Leilani picked another for the Sea Deities, whom were honored on the Full Moon in the sea.
They were both on the far wall, near the fountain. I wondered if the fountain could be used for cleaning up before praying at the altar, washing your hands was apparently a common practice to clean them so that you wouldn't bring dirt before the Gods.
It would be different, something unique to our cabin. We'd honor both the land and the sea practices, something that the Sea Cabin really ought to do. Leilani was excited, as we hadn't really practiced the honoring I did at home and in the sea in the cabin yet. I promised to show her how, when the next full moon came.
That wouldn't be till July 22 though, since the last full moon had been the night of the funerals. Understandably, we hadn't done much that night, busy grieving what was lost and preparing for the funerals to come with the sunrise.
We'd have time to prepare this way though, I could show her our practices and how we adjusted to being on land. It would be nice. It was something I hadn't realized I'd missed from my time in the ocean and in my mom's apartment.
It was a piece of home I wanted to bring to the camp.
I pulled my moon mirror out of my drawer for it, and Leilani had gotten her hands on some nice clothes. With that, we got to work.
Leilani laid out the two clothes, one a sandy shade that made me think of the beach, and the other a soft green like grass.
We placed various sea shells on the altar for the sea, carefully placing each item and stacking them in ways we thought looked nice. We didn't have a statue for the altar, though we could make one during arts and crafts and probably would, so we substituted with things we had.
Shells honored various Gods, and we'd paint them to make them more fitting. We placed a small bowl with water in the altar, for the ocean. Another small tray, one that Leilani had retrieved from somewhere, was placed front and center to lay offerings on. I placed my moon mirror against the back wall, letting it stand in for any other representation of the Sea and Moon.
Leilani carefully scattered sand onto the altar too, for her mother. And I took the time to place an art piece each of us had made on the inner walls, for an extra personal touch.
The home Gods altar I looked to Leilani for, as I only had the bigger one we'd made at home to judge by.
She placed a jug in one corner, for libations, and another tray in the front center for placing offerings. We didn't have any statues, once more, but were able to put other items in place. Some flowers, gathered from outside, and artwork we'd worked on. We put some pretty stones we planned to paint, and Leilani arranged a little fake hearth out of twigs and red amaryllis flowers that she'd gathered from the Demeter cabin.
It was lovely, and while it wasn't as neat and fancy as I often imagined an altar looking… it was homey, it was personal ,it was made with our own two hands with items we'd created or gathered. Items grown and offered freely, items formed over many years… it was ours.
I loved it.
And once we finished the altars, finished placing each item and finished arranging the curtains so they could be opened and pinned in place easily… we both washed our hands and offered a prayer to Poseidon.
"O Poseidon Domatites, Poseidon my Metua, Poseidon the King and Ruler of the sea, thank you for this home we have made our home," I mumbled, hearing Leilani's words mingling with mine like intertwined currents. I wasn't entirely sure what to say, what prayer to offer at this moment. But I wanted to thank Metua all the same. "May our altar show you our gratitude—" I continued doggedly "—and may we continue to honor you in the years to come."
My tongue tingled with salt that rubbed like gossamer over my skin. A hand on my head, a smile shining down on me. I knew I was heard, I basked in the warm currents curling over me, around me, protective and pleased.
Leilani finished her prayer to Poseidon in the same instance that I did, and barely waited a moment before continuing onwards. A new prayer, to another God.
"Psamathe, of the Golden Sands," she whispered. "My Me-Mevua. Thank you for claiming me- thank you for all that you have done. Thank you for allowing me into Poseidon's home, so that I might have a place to belong. I-"
I felt I was intruding, listening to her speak to her mother with choked words and wet eyes. This felt private, sacred, personal.
I turned my gaze from her to focus on the shrine and whispered a prayer of my own to Psamathe. "Thank you for claiming Leilani," I whispered. "And thank you for allowing her into my Metua's cabin. I- I'm really glad she's here."
I bowed my head, for just a moment, as water sweet sand pressed like pillows against my skin. Silky and soft and gentle I accepted the attention, the blessing, for what it was and tried to project all of my gratefulness, all of my care, for Leilani's presence in my (my Metua's) cabin.
It would not be the same without her.
Leilani took in a shuddering breath, her prayer complete, and turned to me with a smile like the sunrise. I smiled back, feeling comfortable with the prayers we'd offered now.
We still had more to do, a whole half a summer session left practically… but in this moment, in this place, kneeled before our altar to our parents, I was at peace.
We were home.
OO OO OO OO
Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave a review, they feed my soul.
Please note that Percy is a New Yorker, and I did actually check the temperature on the day I mentioned, and Percy is just a darling New Yorker and does not deal with "heat". Lapu is from Arizona and is not impressed but IS amused.
I spoke with smilesandshinythings about the Muslim deitary matters, and Chaotic Neutral about the Jewish dietary matters mentioned in the chapter, and had long discussions on the subject. The decisions made in the chapter will not reflect all views on the subject, but it is the one decided for this story. If I misused any terminology please feel free to let me know. And thank you both for your help in making the complicated religious overlaps respectful!
Halmaheran
Maie em maiv houp opu=It's nice to meet you
Opu meye'v tel hamapep y wasahu=May you have swift currents and calm waves.
Metua=Father
Mevua=Mother
Terminology
Ovid is NOT a mythographer, he was a poet, this is very important to note because his writings were commentaries on the mortal rulers where he used the Gods to symbolize them. They are NOT proper representations of the Gods, but he was an excellent poet and thus his work was better preserved than basically any mythographer, and became the basis of knowledge of the Gods.
Kudos to him for his work, it's not his fault, but also Fuck Ovid.
Gnomon=the part of the sundial that sticks up and which the shadow from tells the time.
Halal=Food prepared according to shari'a.
Bismallah=In the Name of Allah
Kosher=Food prepared according to Jewish Law.
Kashrut=The dietary laws determining if the food is Kosher
Shochet=Those trained to properly prepare meat to be Kosher
Khernips=a specific type of water that is used for cleansing and purification. It is used for purifying oneself of miasma to communicate with the Gods. The use of it varies from pagan to pagan with some seeing it as vital and others not viewing it as necessary at all. It consists of water and a piece of burned herb or wood.
Lustral Water=Holy water, intended for holy acts. It is a title used in many religions for blessed water.
Kanuche Soup=A creamy Cherokee soup made from hickory nuts.
Poseidon Domatites=Poseidon of the Home
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