The Demi-god Chronicles: Chapter 4
IIIIIIIM BAAAACK! I will be updating this one until it's done, and then I'll be moving onto my other fics. So don't worry, I haven't abandoned them. I'm still working on face claims for this story, but I have ones for a few.
Face Claims are as follows:
Grayson Clarke- Chris Wood
Grover Underwood- Gaten Matarazzo
Emma Tyler- Marie Avgeropoulos
*Nightmare sequence*
It was dark, dark enough to where I could barely see. But the smells, the sounds, I knew I was in some forest. In the dim light the moon provided, I watched the girl, Emma, run, and she wasn't stopping. It was like I was having an out of body experience, but she was in my place.
I realized this had to be a memory, as she was much younger than when I first saw her. Her shirt was ragged, and her jeans were ripped and bloodied in several places. I'd lost track of how far, and how long she'd been running. Far behind us, I could hear the panting of those dog things, their claws digging into the ground.
The trees around us grew thicker and every so often Emma would have to dodge branches. Emma shot a glance behind her, and I followed her gaze, my heart leaping into my throat. There was a whole pack, numbering close to a dozen. Even though I wasn't the one in danger, I faced forward again and willed my legs to move faster.
The roots upon the ground grew more numerous, until Emma had no choice but to slow her pace. Luckily for her, the hellhounds were having no better luck than she was, and Emma managed to keep enough distance between them and her. That didn't last long, however. Emma jumped over the roots of a tree jutting up out of the ground, but the toe of her shoe caught on it.
Emma lost her footing, and hit the ground, her head bouncing off of the dirt. I tried to help her up, but my hands passed through her like I was a ghost. A trickle of blood ran down the side of her face, and Emma attempted to get her feet back under her. But in the time during her fall, the hellhounds had caught up to her.
The one in the lead pounced, landing on her back, and pushed her back down. Its two large front paws kept her pinned, its claws digging into her skin. Emma cried out in pain, and I got so mad, unable to do anything to help her. The rest of the pack surrounded her, and the one on top of her lowered its head, jaws close to her neck.
'Emma, get up!'
I knew she couldn't hear me, but I wasn't able to stop myself. Emma tried so hard to push herself up, and fight, but the dog's weight was too much. Her face was pressed into the dirt, every breath sending clouds of it into the air. Emma's eyes closed tight as the hellhound's breath hit the back of her neck. Emma's eyes started to flood with tears, thinking she was going to die, and she cried out. I felt mine start to burn with the start of tears too. Time seemed to slow down as the hellhounds circled in, but then I felt the air around me change, catching the smell of the ocean breezing past me. Someone else spoke, though I couldn't see anyone else here.
'Emma, my child. You must rise, and fight. This is not where you story ends. Fight!'
I felt the words reverberate through me, and I knew Emma did too. Her eyes flew open, and they were hardened with new resolve. The ground beneath my feet began to shake, and overhead storm clouds started to form. Thunder boomed above us, lightning arcing across the sky. Rain fell, and at the same time, puddles formed, the water coming up out of the ground. The hellhounds noticed the change, and a few emitted soft whines.
'I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid.' Emma's voice started off hushed but grew louder.
'I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid! GET OFF!'
With that, water exploded out of the ground, slamming into the hellhounds. Three disintegrated from the sheer force, the rest sent tumbling across the ground. Emma stood up, the storm above growing in intensity. Her eyes glowed a faint green, pure power emanating from her. The hellhounds had started to back away, and the one that had been pinning her down, turned to flee. She screamed, and a wave... a literal wave erupted from the soil, and the force of it even affected me. I was blasted back, and the last thing I heard was the hellhounds yelping in pain.
I MEET A GOD
My eyes shot open, and I shot straight up, my chest heaving. I was drenched in sweat, same for the bed I was lying in. I fought to get my breathing under control, grasping my head in my hands. It took me a few minutes to calm down, and when I had, I took in the room around me.
The interior reminded me of a lodge, and beds lined the entire side I was on. My surroundings weren't weird, but they were far nicer than anything I was used to. I glanced about the room, my eyes landing on someone else in the room. Lying on a bed a few down from me, was Emma.
She must've been asleep, and the purple bruises that had been around her neck were nearly faded completely. I threw the blanket off and went to stand, when movement in the corner of my eye made me freeze. A husky blond dude, like a surfer, stood in the corner of the bedroom, watching me. He had blue eyes, at least a dozen of them, on his cheeks, neck, and on the back of his hands.
He stared me down, and I moved back into bed. I must've passed out or something, and when I woke up, Emma was no longer there. In a chair next to my bed, was Grover, staring at me intently. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week and was dressed in jeans and that orange shirt. In his lap sat a shoebox.
"How are you feeling?"
"Like crap. Where am I?" I tried to get out of bed, but Grover placed his hands against my arms.
"Careful. You've been through a heck of a lot, and you're not at full strength yet. Here." He grabbed a tall glass from a table next to us. It looked like apple juice with ice cubes, a green straw and paper parasol skewered through a maraschino cherry poked out of the top. I tried to take it, but my grip was too weak, and I almost dropped it.
"Easy." He held the glass up, keeping his grip on it, and I moved the straw to my lips. I took a sip, and I recoiled at the taste. I was expecting apple juice, not the flavor of the grape sour strings I loved. I took a bigger drink this time, and my whole body felt better, full of energy. I quickly drained the glass, and Grover took it from me.
"Was it good?" I nodded, staring down at the ice cubes.
"What did it taste like?" I looked up at him, feeling a little guilty.
"Oh sorry. I should've let you have some."
"No, that's not what I meant. I was just wondering."
"Oh. Grape sour strings. There's this candy store me and Peter like. May gets them for me every once in a while."
"And how do you feel?"
"Different. A good different, like I could throw Nancy a hundred yards." Grover let out a short laugh.
"That's good. I don't think you could risk drinking anymore of that stuff."
"Why, what is it really?" He didn't answer me, simply placing the shoe box in my lap.
"I went back to the hill, and I thought you might want this. It's the least I could do... since you saved our lives." I flipped open the top, and inside was a black-and-white bull's horn, the base clean cut.
"The Minotaur," I said.
"Um, Grayson, it isn't a good idea-"
"That's what they call him in all of the Greek myths right?" I said.
"Half man, half bull." Grover shifted in his seat, looking uncomfortable.
"You've been out for a few days. How much do you remember?"
"Is my family okay?"
"They're fine. Chiron checked in with Ben after you passed out." It took me a moment to process what he just said.
"Wait, are you saying Ben knew about all of this?" Grover hesitantly met my eyes.
"Yes." I reeled back, my mind racing, and I stared out the nearest window. Through it, I could see strawberry fields spreading out pretty far. There were groves of trees at the edges, and a winding river. The entire valley was surrounded by hills, and on top of the biggest one, stood a giant pine tree. It all looked beautiful in the sunlight, but it made me feel better. My whole world was turned upside down. Nothing should look beautiful like this.
"I know this is a lot, and I'm sorry," Grover sniffled. "It wasn't supposed to go this way. I failed. I'm the worst satyr in the world." He stomped his foot hard enough for it to come off. The fake high-top converse came off actually, the inside filled with styrofoam, save for a hoof shaped hole.
"Styx!" he mumbled angrily. Thunder rolled across the blue sky, startling me. As he fought to get his good back into the shoe, my mind was racing. Grover was a satyr from myth, and who else knew what else was real. But I didn't care about the truth, all it meant was my life probably wouldn't ever be the same. Grover was still sniffling, and I felt bad again. Grover actually looked like he was expecting me to hit him or something.
"It wasn't your fault," I said.
"Yes, it was. I was supposed to protect you."
"And you did. You got me here, didn't you?"
"Yes. But I was supposed to stay with you at all times. And the hellhound got to you. It was my job as a Keeper. At least... it was."
"What do you..." I stopped, suddenly feeling dizzy, and my vision started swimming. I leaned back against the headrest, calming myself down. After a few minutes, the dizziness went away.
"Come on. Chiron and Mr. D are waiting." I got up out of the bed, but my legs were wobbly after being down for so long. Grover offered to carry the shoebox, but I kept my grip on it. I earned this the hard way, and I wasn't going to let go of it. We stepped out onto the porch, which wrapped around the entire house, and as we walked to the opposite end, I caught my breath.
We were on the north shore of Long Island, and the valley went all the way to the sound, the water glittering a mile in the distance. In between us and the edge of the valley, the landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture. There was an open-air amphitheater, an arena... except they all looked brand new. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen or so high school age kids and satyrs played volleyball.
Others were in canoes, gliding across a small lake. Younger kids in orange shirts just like Grover's, chased each other around cabins that were nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others were riding horses down a wooded trail, and to my shock, some of the horses had wings.
Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. Emma was leaning on the railing next to them. The man facing me was small, but porky. He had a red nose, big watery eyes, and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He looked like those paintings of baby angels... cherubs.
He looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He wore a tiger pattern Hawaiian shirt, and he would've fit right in at a poker party someone's smelly stepfather would've held. Grover gestured to the small man.
"That's Mr. D," he mumbled. "He's the camp director. Be polite. You've already met Emma. She's just a camper, but she's been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron." He pointed to the man facing away from us. The first thing I noticed was he was in a wheelchair. Then I recognized the tweed jacket, and the thinning brown hair, the scraggly beard. My eyes widened, and I called out.
"Mr. Brunner!?" My former Latin teacher turned and smiled at me. His eyes had the same mischievous glint they always had when he was about to pull a pop quiz and had made all the multiple-choice answers B.
"Grayson, my dear boy, it's good to see you awake. And just in time, now we have four for pinochle." He slid out the chair to the right of Mr. D, offering me a seat. Mr. D looked at me with bloodshot eyes and let out a loud sigh.
"Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-blood. There. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you."
"Thanks." I scooted a little farther away from him, immediately picking up he had to have been hitting the happy juice. If he was a stranger to alcohol, I was Captain America.
"Emma?" Mr. Brunner called over to her. She came forward and Mr. Brunner gestured between the two of us.
"I believe you two have met already, but proper introductions are in order. Grayson, this is Emma Tyler." I glanced at her, and all I could think about was the dream I'd had.
"Emma, my dear, why don't you go check on Grayson's bunk? He'll be put into Cabin Eleven for the time being."
"Sure, Chiron," Emma said. She stepped closer to me, and I realized she was a couple of inches taller than me, and a whole lot more athletic looking. She had olive toned skin, and dark hair, she was almost exactly what I thought a typical girl of Greek descent would look like, except her sea green eyes ruined that thought. Still, they were pretty, but intimidating too. She stared back at me, as if she was deciding the best way to take me down in a fight. Emma glanced at the box in my hands, then back to me. I thought she was going to thank me for saving her or something.
But instead, she said, "you drool in your sleep." She walked off of the porch, and sprinted off down the lawn, her dark hair flying behind her. I turned to Mr. Brunner, anxious to change the subject.
"So... you work here too, Mr. Brunner?" I asked.
"Well, not Mr. Brunner. I'm afraid that was simply a pseudonym. You may call me Chiron," Bru- Chiron said.
"Um, okay," I said. I was totally confused and looked at the director.
"And Mr. D... does that stand for something?" Mr. D abruptly stopped shuffling the cards and looked up at me like I kicked his chair or something.
"Young man, names are powerful things. You can't just go around using them for no reason."
"Ok. Right, sorry."
"I must say, Grayson," Mr. Bru- Chiron cut in. "I am glad to see you pulled through. It's been quite a long time since I've made a house call, so to speak, for a potential camper. I would've hated to think I'd wasted my time."
"House call?" I asked.
"I spent my year at Yancy Academy, to instruct you. Typically, we have satyrs at most schools for such a purpose, keeping a lookout. But Grover alerted me the minute he met you. He sensed you were something special, so I decided to go upstate. I convinced the other Latin teacher to... take a leave of absence." I thought back to the beginning of the year, a fuzzy memory of there being another teacher during my first week at Yancy. Then, without explanation, he had disappeared, and Mr. Brunner had stepped in.
"You came all the way to Yancy just to teach me?" I asked.
"Yes, but honestly, I wasn't entirely sure about you at first. We reached out to Ben, and after explaining the situation to him, we let him know we were keeping an eye on you, in case you truly needed to come to Camp Half-Blood. There is still so much for you to learn. But nevertheless, you made it all the way here alive, and that's always the first test." Mr. D sighed impatiently, fixing Grover with a look.
"Grover, are you playing or not?"
"Yes sir!" Grover said, trembling as he pulled out the fourth chair, though I didn't understand why he should be so afraid of a fat little man in a crappy Hawaiian shirt. As if reading my mind, Mr. D eyed me suspiciously.
"Do you know how to play pinochle?"
"No, I'm afraid not," I said.
"No, I'm afraid not, sir," he said.
"Sir." I was starting to like the camp director less and less.
"Well, it is, along with gladiator fighting and Pac-Man, one of the greatest games ever invented by you humans. I would expect all civilized young men to know the rules."
"The boy is sharp, I'm sure he can learn," Chiron said.
"Please... what is this place exactly?" I asked. "What am I doing here, Mr- Chiron, why would you go that far out of your way just to teach me at Yancy?"
"I asked him all the same questions," Mr. D snorted. The camp director dealt out the cards, and Grover flinched every time one would land in his pile. Chiron gave me a sympathetic smile, the same way he used to in Latin class, to let me know that no matter what, I was his star student. He expected me to always have the right answer.
"Grayson. Did your father tell you nothing?" Chiron said. That hit me a little too close to home, but I thought back to conversations I'd had with him.
"He told me..." I remembered his sad expression that one time he took me camping. "He said he was afraid for me. Said one day something could happen, and I'd have to make a decision. But he didn't mention this place, he just wanted to keep me close. I guess after my mom left, he wanted to keep me safe," I said.
"Typical. That kind of naivety is how they usually get killed. Young man, are you bidding or not?" Mr. D said.
"Huh?" I asked. He then impatiently explained how you bid in pinochle, so I did.
"I'm afraid there's too much to tell. I'm afraid our usual orientation film won't be sufficient," Chiron said.
"There's an orientation film?" I asked.
"Yes, but not for you. Well, Grayson. You know your friend here is a satyr." He pointed to the shoebox in my hands. "You know that you have killed the Minotaur. No small feat either, my boy. What you do not know, is that there are great powers at work in your life. Gods, the forces you call the Greek gods, are very much alive and real." I stared at him for a few seconds, before looking to the others. I waited for one of them to yell gotcha! but all I got was Mr. D yelling in the next moment.
"Oh, a royal marriage. Trick! Trick!" He cackled like a hyena as he tallied up his points.
"Mr. D? If you're not going to eat it, could I have your diet coke can?" Grover asked timidly.
"Hmm? Oh, all right." Grover scooped the can up, biting a huge shard out of the aluminum, and chewed it mournfully. My mind was reeling at the new piece of information.
"Wait, you're talking about Zeus, Hades, and Poseidon?" Chiron cast a quick glance to the sky at the clap of thunder that resounded.
"Ah yes, those gods. Great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors. The immortal gods of Olympus."
"You mean like Hera, Apollo, Aphrodite?" There was another book of distant thunder in the cloudless sky.
"Young man, I would really be less casual about throwing those names around if I were you," Mr. D said.
"But they're just stories. Myths to explain lightning, and the changing of seasons. They're what people believed in before there was science." Mr. D scoffed, tossing his cards down onto the table.
"Science! And tell me, Grayson Chayce Clarke, what will people think of your science two thousand years from now!?" I flinched when he said my full name. Mr. D paid no attention and carried on.
"They will call it primitive mumbo jumbo. Oh, I love mortals. They have absolutely no sense of perspective. They think they've come so far. And have they truly, Chiron? Look at this boy and tell me?" I wasn't liking Mr. D much, but there was something about the way he called me mortal, as if... he wasn't. It was enough to put a lump in my throat, and Grover minded his cards, chewing his soda can, and keeping his mouth shut.
"Grayson. You may choose to believe or not, but given everything that has happened recently, the truth cannot be denied. The fact is that immortal means immortal. Can you imagine for a moment, never dying, never fading? Existing, just as you for eternity?" I was about to answer off the top of my head, it sounded like a pretty good deal, but the tone Chiron used made me hesitate.
"You mean, regardless of whether people believed in you or not?" I said.
"Exactly. If you were a god, how do you think it would feel to be called a myth, some old story to explain a thunderstorm? What if I were to tell you, Grayson Clarke, that someday people would call you a myth, a story created to explain how children can get over losing a parent?" I felt the blood rushing in my ears, and my heart pounded. He was trying to make me angry for some reason, but I refused to let him.
"I wouldn't like it. But I don't believe the gods are real," I said.
"Oh, you'd better, before one of them incinerates you," Mr. D said.
"Please sir. He's been through a lot, and he's still in shock," Grover said.
"A lucky thing too. Bad enough I'm confined to this miserable job, working with children who don't even believe." Mr. D waved his hand, and a goblet appeared on the table, as if the sunlight had bent, and the air had woven into glass. The goblet filled itself to the brim with red wine, and my jaw dropped. Chiron, hardly looking up, spoke.
"Mr. D, your restrictions." Mr. D looked to the wine glass and pretended to be surprised.
"Dear me." He looked to the sky, snapping his fingers, making the glass change into a fresh can of diet coke. "Old habits, sorry!" Thunder boomed overhead, and sighing unhappily, he popped the top of it, and returned to his card game. Chiron shot me a wink.
"Mr. D offended his father a while back, took a fancy to a wood nymph who had been declared off limits."
"A wood nymph," I repeated, dumbfounded. I stared at the diet coke can, unable to comprehend where it'd come from.
"Yes, father does love to punish me. The first time was Prohibition, what a horrid ten years. The second time, she was really pretty, and I couldn't stay away. He sent me here, Half-Blood hill, a summer camp for little shits like you."
"Mr. D, language please, in front of the child," Chiron said. With a roll of his eyes, Mr. D continued.
"Be a better influence, he told me. Work with youths rather than tearing them down. Ha, absolutely ridiculous." Mr. D sounded like a six-year-old, pouting about his crayons being taken away.
"And your father is?" I asked.
"Di immortales, Chiron. I thought you had taught this boy the basics. My father is Zeus of course!" I ran through all of the D names from Greek mythology. Wine... the skin of a tiger... the satyrs all working here... the way Grover seemed scared of him, as if Mr. D was his master.
"You're Dionysus. The god of wine," I said. Mr. D rolled his eyes.
"What do the humans say these days? Well duh! Did you think I was Aphrodite, perhaps?"
"You're a god."
"Yes, child."
"A god... you." He turned to look at me straight on, and I saw a purple fire ignite in his eyes. It hinted that this whiny, fat little man was only showing me the tiniest bit of his true nature. I saw visions of grape vines choking people to death, drunken warrior going insane with lust for battle, and sailors screaming as their arms turned into flippers, their faces elongating into dolphin snouts. I knew if I pushed him, Mr. D would show me worse things, maybe even do those things to me. He could plant a disease in my brain that would leave me in a strait jacket, sitting in a rubber room somewhere for the rest of my life.
"Would you like to test me, boy?"
"N- no. No, sir." The fire in his eyes died down a little. He turned his attention back to his game, and I let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"I believe I win," he said.
"Ah, not quite, Mr. D," Chiron said. He set down his cards, revealing a straight. He tallied up the points, and proudly looked to Mr. D.
"The game goes to me." I tensed, thinking Mr. D was going to vaporize Chiron right out of his wheelchair, but he simply sighed through his nose. I picked up on that he was used to being beaten by my former Latin teacher. Mr. D got up, and Grover rose at the same time.
"I'm tired. I believe I'll take a nap before the campfire tonight. But first, Grover, we need to talk, again, about your less than perfect performance on this assignment." Grover's face turned white and started beading with sweat.
"Y- yes sir." Mr. D then turned to me.
"Cabin eleven, Grayson Clarke, and mind your manners." He headed into the farmhouse, Grover tailing him miserably.
"Is Grover going to be okay?" I asked Chiron. Though he nodded, he still looked a little troubled.
"Mr. D isn't really mad. He simply hates this job. For lack of a better term, he's been... well, grounded, I suppose you could say, and he can't stand waiting another century before being allowed back in Olympus."
"Mount Olympus. You're telling me there really is a palace there?"
"Well, there's Mount Olympus in Greece. But then there's the home of the gods, the convergence point of all their powers. It did indeed used to be on Mount Olympus. It is still called Mount Olympus, out of respect to the old ways, but the palace moves, just as the gods did."
"You mean the Greek gods are here in America?"
"Certainly. The gods move with the heart of the West."
"The what?"
"Come now, Grayson. What you call Western civilization. It's not just an abstract concept, no, it's a living force. A collective consciousness that has burned bright for thousands of years. The gods are a part of it. You might even say they are the source of it, or at the very least, tied so tightly to it that they couldn't possibly fade, save for all of Western civilization being obliterated. The fire started in Greece. Then, as you well know, or as I hope you know, since you passed my course, that the heart moved to Rome, and so did the gods, with different names of course. Jupiter for Zeus, Diana for Artemis, and so on. But the same forces, the same gods," Chiron said.
"And then they died."
"Died? No. Did the West die? The gods simply moved, to Germany, France, Spain for a while. Wherever the flame was the brightest, the gods were there. They spent several centuries in England. All you need to do is look at the architecture. People do not forget the gods. Every place they've ruled, for the last three thousand years, you can see them in paintings, in statues, on the most important buildings. And now, Grayson, they reside in your United States. Look at your nation's symbol, the eagle of Zeus. Look at the statue of Prometheus in the Rockefeller Center, all of the Greek facades of your government's buildings in Washington. I defy you to find any American city where the Olympians aren't prominently displayed in multiple places. Whether you accept it or not, and believe me, plenty of people weren't very fond of Rome either, America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West. So, Olympus is here... we are here." This was all too much to take in, especially the fact that I seemed to be included in on Chiron's we, as I were a part of this somehow.
"Who are you, Chiron? Who... who am I?" Chiron smiled at me, shifting his weight, like he was going to get out of his wheelchair, but that was impossible. He was paralyzed from the waist down, had been for a long time based on what he had told my class.
"Who are you?" he chuckled. "Well, that is the question we all want answered, isn't it? It truly has piqued my interest, but for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There are new friends to meet, and plenty of time for lessons to begin tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate." And in the next second, he did rise from his wheelchair. But there was something odd about the way he did it. The blanket covering his legs fell away, but his legs weren't moving. His waist kept going, getting longer, rising above his belt.
I thought he was just wearing white boxers, and I went to look away, but as he kept rising, taller than any man should be, I realized I had it wrong. It was the front of an animal, muscle and sinew underneath coarse white fur. The chair wasn't even a wheelchair, it was a container, an enormous box on wheels. It must've been magic as there was no way it could've held all of him. A leg came out, long and knobby-kneed, with a huge, polished hoof.
Then another front leg, then hindquarters, and then the box was empty, nothing but a metal shell with a couple of fake human legs attached. I stepped back, staring at the horse that had just sprung from the wheelchair. A huge white stallion stood in front of me, but where its neck was supposed to be, was the upper body of my Latin teacher. He was smoothly grafted to the horse's chest.
"What a relief. I'd been cooped up in there for so long, my fetlocks had fallen asleep. Now, come, Grayson Clarke. Let's meet the other campers, shall we?" the centaur said.
As always, leave a fav and review! Next chapter we get into the bathroom scene. Grayson out!