Meeting my mother at an enchanted camp full of children of the Gods was not on my bucket list.
Alas, it happened. And it sucked.
After Chiron dropped the bombshell, I became a laughing stock. A toy to be picked at by the other campers. I'd memorised most of the Gods names at this point. The Ares kids were the worst, glaring and giggling whenever they got the chance. A girl called Clarisse kept referring to me as 'witch' and that, i did not like.
Hecate stuck around for a while, after Chiron invited her in to talk of the prophecy. That's what the campers were calling the weird poem Rachel had recited in the attic.
I was still adjusting. My brain could barely comprehend any of this was real. I was expecting to wake up back home that night. My father would be there and the house would smell of wine but in a good way. He'd say "what's up, big man" as I walked in the kitchen and this would all be a fever dream.
It was not.
Supposedly my mother's cabin had a councillor, a girl called Lou Ellen. She was away with her father currently and there weren't any other children at camp in her cabin, so I had the place to myself.
The cabin was impressive, I was surprised I had missed it all this time. It had a small exterior, made of a dark wood and purple flowers sprouted from weeds in the floor. Torches placed in sconces were lining the cabin, illuminating the outside just enough to see. The interior got better.
It somehow seemed bigger, with torches and lanterns lighting up the rooms entirely. Rugged carpets decorated the floor and there were two hallways leading to large rooms with beds, one for girls and the other for guys. They were occupied by no one, which made me feel a little uneasy. It felt like a haunted house and I was patiently waiting for the jump scare.
Nevertheless, I was tired. Performing that chant with Hecate had made me feel woozy. She'd said it was because of the daytime. Paired with my first time, it was a common occurrence. I took that with a pinch of salt.
Irene had escorted me to my cabin, after we'd collected my belongings from Hermes'. I asked her if she'd been claimed too, but she'd told me she hadn't. She told me what the creature was, but I, for the life of me, cannot pronounce it. It's 'mery methane' or something, maybe there was an '-ian' in there somewhere. Merymethian? No. I gave up swiftly.
Irene left after I thanked her for the escort, and she returned to the Hermes cabin for the evening, before the campfire.
The campfire, I thought. Chiron had said we'd be claimed there, but Hecate had revealed my lineage in broad daylight. I didn't like that. Especially since it meant being hassled by the other campers.
I was never the subject of bullying. In fact, I was the one protecting Irene from being ridiculed. Now, at camp, everything changed. Irene started making friends instantly. In Hermes' children. In the nymphs that lived in the lake. Even Chiron spoke to her a whole lot more than I. But still, I couldn't help but be happy for her.
Her smile was a lit bigger here, and she seemed to be learning a pot quicker too. Irene had dyslexia, so that was a common topic for bullies at Kansas City High. She was told her brain would be hardwired for Ancient Greek and, boy, were they correct. I didn't have that problem for some reason, although it's probably thanks to my father for teaching me so broadly at such a young age. I never had trouble reading or reciting languages, even ones that I'd never learnt before. Some teachers called me a prodigy once I joined High School, but they knew how supportive my father was as a teacher.
I entered a room slightly northwest of the cabin, toward the back, and decided this would be my room since it was obvious nobody was occupying it. The sun was setting slightly, so I saved the trouble of lighting the torches that lined the walls. The golden glow was cast upon the room, oddly comforting me.
As I set my belongings down in an empty room inside Cabin "", I couldn't help but miss my dad. I'd overheard a few satyrs discussing something called Iris Messaging and wondered if I should contact him, but then I realised how strange it would seem to see his sons floating head in the middle of the room and decided against it. I had to keep reminding myself that Chiron had a 'plan' for that, but still, it saddened me to know he might be at home worrying.
The last of my things were placed into a mahogany drawer and I turned toward the bed, when a golden glimmer caught my eye.
Across the room, on a marble pedestal, sat a sword. A folded note was perched next to it reading my name.
I approached it and the blade glimmered, even in the musky light of the sunset. I unfolded the card and read it aloud.
"Daryl - It was necessary for them to know. Take this as a sign of my affection and apologies. You'll need it."
I huffed as I read the signings at the bottom. Mother.
"Whatever," I spat, throwing the card into a trash can by the door. I turned to walk away, but I felt compelled to accept the gift. I didn't know how to use a sword, but I found myself picking it up to study it.
It was entirely coated in a thick bronze, including the hilt. It was cold to touch the first time, but that didn't bother me. The hilt was home to three empty holes, looking as if it used to house small stones or something. The blade was roughly a metre long, the handle being a quarter of the size. Surprisingly, it wasn't heavy. It sat comfortably in my hand and I tried a pose. I could lift the blade easily above my head, and performed a slashing motion even easier. I quickly decided that I looked ridiculous and hoped none of the campers outside could see me.
I tossed the sword onto the bed before collapsing onto it myself.
"Goddess of Magic, huh?" I said to myself. I remembered the word Hecate had told me prior, its ancient greek inscription burned into my mind.
I remembered my father's study books at home, and how he'd told me some of the words. I recognised them to be the same language. Maybe not ancient, but they were similar enough to make the connection. I couldn't dawn for long though, I knew I had to get to the campfire.
But the voice echoing through the room had other ideas.
"Daryl," it whispered.
I shot up. I must've laid there staring at the ceiling for a while, since the room had darkened significantly.
"Who's there?" I called into the darkness.
"Daryl," it repeated.
"Show yourself!" I shouted, picking up the sword to my side, pointing it toward nothing.
"I can't do that," the voice muttered.
"Why not?" I called back. The voice sounded eerily close. Almost like it was right next to my ear, but my back was too close to the headboard of the bunk for someone to be that close without me noticing.
"Well for one; I'm not there." The noise solidified more this time, and I recognised it instantly.
"Mother?"
"Correct."
"Where are you? Come out now!" My eyes darted all across the room as they adjusted to the dark, but even I could see that I was alone.
"I'm not there, Daryl. I'm long gone."
I couldn't focus. It sounded as though she was all around me.
"It's my spell," she said. "I can talk to you whenever I like, now that you know."
I pieced two and two together. "Now that I know you're my mom?"
"Oh my- you're catching on quickly. But yes. I couldn't communicate before now. The absence of information meant a lack of communication."
I was too tired for this. I wanted to hide inside the duvet, fall asleep and ignore her. But something told me that sleep wouldn't stop it from occurring. I thought that I might as well get some more information.
"Yes, you might as well," she responded.
Okay, that was scary, I thought.
"I apologise, that was not my intention."
"Stop that!" I said. Why can she hear my thoughts?
"It's a telepathic link. I placed it on you when you were a child."
"Can you get rid of it?" I murmured.
"Unfortunately not."
"Great, now I'm stuck being mommy's puppet."
"Do not think of it that way," Hecate replied. "I have lost many children, too many to count. I will not take any more chances on my kin."
I didn't know what that meant. In fact, i truthfully didn't know what any of this meant. How was she able to read my mind? How was she even able to communicate with me without being here?
"Well?" She asked. "You wanted information?"
I contemplated asking. I wondered if she could read my mind, how she didn't know what the questions were, but then I realised I'd been subconsciously blocking them from my own thoughts.
"Okay," I accepted. "The prophecy-"
"Is what you think it is."
That didn't reassure me in the slightest.
"Chiron will not reveal anything to you, he's good at that. But me? He cannot keep information from the Gods."
"So you're the exception?"
"The divine is the exception."
Divine? That's a bit egotistical.
"So what do I need to know?"
"You will know in time. But for now, you must attend the ceremony."
"What ceremony?"
"The campfire is not just a time for relaxation. The occupants of your home make offerings."
"This isn't my home," I corrected her.
"Oh but you will wish it was."
"I doubt that."
"Attend the ceremony, Daryl. Your friend will need you."
"Irene?"
"She is deathly. She will need guidance of another chthonic heir."
"Now you're just speaking gibberish."
I couldn't see Hecate's face, but I had a feeling she might have laughed if she was here.
"The prophecy will require many. But there are two common denominators. You. And her."
"No," I said. "I don't know what you think you're trying to do, but I won't involve her in something potentially dangerous."
"It is written. There is nothing you can do except prevent the worse outcome. And believe me, it will be terrible if you do not comply."
"Is that a threat?" I asked hesitantly.
She sighed in my mind. "Sending my child on a dangerous quest is the last thing I wish to do, trust that, Daryl. But you are the only person who can stop the night."
"The night? What does the night have to do with anything? What does that even mean?"
I awaited a reply, but the room fell silent once more.
"Wait!" shouted. "I'm not done. I need to know more!"
No response.
Under different circumstances, I would be pleased that she left my thoughts, but now I was worried for Irene. What did she mean when she said Irene was deathly?
I didn't waste any time. I picked up the sword I'd thrown onto the bed, assuming I might need it. I didn't like the feeling of helplessness I'd felt when the creature attacked earlier that evening. Now I had information that might put my best friend in danger.
Plus, I had a weapon. And I intended to use it.
