3. New demigod
It was a warm, sunny morning, and Damian found himself wandering alone among the trees surrounding Camp Half-Blood, still shaken by the unsettling dreams of the night. His mind was clouded with fatigue, and as he tried to distract himself, he didn't realize he had strayed too far from the safer areas. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps startled him.
Looking up, he saw a group of kids approaching. Their smiles were sardonic, their gazes menacing. The children of Ares. And at the center of the group was her: Clarisse, the daughter of Ares, with her hardened face and imposing stature, a sword already gripped in her hand.
Damian quickly stepped back, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn't ready to face them. He didn't know how he could defend himself. His dagger was still too small for serious combat, and he doubted he could do anything against the brute strength of those kids.
Clarisse fixed him with a look of disdain, taking a step closer. "Hey, kid," she said with a mocking smile. "Where do you think you're going? Don't you think it's a little early for you to be wandering around alone? Why don't you join us for a bit?"
Damian tried to stay calm, but fear was building inside him. He had heard stories about Clarisse and the children of Ares: they were notorious for their cruelty and the joy they took in making life difficult for other demigods. In that moment, he didn't know how to defend himself.
But just as Clarisse raised her sword and the group began to circle him, another voice cut through the tension.
"Leave the kid alone, Clarisse."
Damian spun around and saw Annabeth emerging from the shadows of the trees, her expression calm and determined, but also unmistakably serious. It was clear she wasn't the least bit afraid of the Ares kids.
"Annabeth," Clarisse growled, her tone dripping with venom. "I can't believe you're stepping in for this little brat. Are you trying to make me look bad?"
Annabeth didn't seem the slightest bit intimidated. She moved closer to Damian and positioned herself between him and the children of Ares. "No, Clarisse. I'm just trying to prevent someone from being bullied for no reason."
Damian hid behind her, feeling an immediate sense of protection at her side. It was strange to feel safe with someone he had known for so little time, but Annabeth exuded an aura of confidence that reassured him. She didn't speak often, but when she did, her words carried weight and authority.
The children of Ares exchanged uneasy glances. Clarisse looked like she was about to lunge, but Annabeth held her ground, her face unflinching. "Do you really think it's worth going up against me, Clarisse?" she asked, her tone cold.
Clarisse huffed but seemed to think better of it for a moment. Then, with a burst of anger, she lowered her sword and gestured to her companions. "Let's go, guys," she snapped. "If that's how it is, it's not worth the trouble. But next time, remember, kids, you won't always have someone to protect you."
As the group walked away, Annabeth turned to Damian and gave him a calm smile. "It's all right. You're safe now."
Still hiding behind her, Damian didn't respond immediately. His mind was still racing, but seeing Annabeth step in without a trace of fear made him feel less alone. Finally, he managed to meet her gaze.
"Thank you," he murmured, his voice still trembling.
Annabeth smirked, but her smile remained kind. "Don't worry. Next time, be careful not to wander too far. But I can see you're already starting to figure out how to stay more alert."
Damian nodded, though he wasn't entirely sure he understood what had just happened. Still, he felt that if he ever needed help, Annabeth would be there for him. And that certainty comforted him. After a year at Camp Half-Blood, Damian was starting to feel a bit more at home, even though he remained introverted. Life at camp, with all its oddities and dangers, was slowly becoming a sort of routine, even if it was never easy for him to fully open up to others. He didn't like to talk much, and when he did, his voice was almost a whisper, meant only for those he felt truly close to, like Simon, Luke, or Annabeth.
The day before, however, something had happened that once again shook the camp. A Minotaur, a monster known for its brute strength, had broken through the outer defenses while a new demigod was arriving. The boy, a twelve-year-old with a frightened expression and wide eyes, had been saved by Grover, a satyr Damian knew quite well. Grover had done his best to protect the boy, but the Minotaur was too strong an opponent to stop without help from others.
The chaos that followed the incident was inevitable. Many demigods rushed to distract the monster and ensure the younger campers' safety. The battle was short but intense, and Damian had taken cover behind a rock, as he often did when danger became too evident. Though he had a certain amount of courage, he preferred not to expose himself in battle, feeling that his moment would come later when he was ready. Not everyone had the bravery to face the Minotaur like Annabeth or Luke. Damian still felt a bit too small for that kind of fight.
The boy Grover had brought to camp was quickly taken to the infirmary, where Annabeth rushed to check on him. Curious but also concerned for the boy, Damian had crept up to the infirmary door, trying to sneak a peek inside. He could hear voices but didn't dare to enter.
"He's fine, but he needs rest," Annabeth's calm voice drifted through the door. "The Minotaur can do damage even without killing. But the boy is strong. I saw him face his fear with determination."
Damian leaned against the wall, trying to make sense of Annabeth's words. He was grateful that the boy had been saved, but something inside him stirred. Another demigod. Another companion in battle. Damian wondered if he, like that boy, would one day be able to face monsters with the same strength. For now, though, he needed to focus on becoming stronger, preparing for the moment his chance would come.
Later, when silence reigned over the camp, Damian approached the infirmary again, curious to see how the boy was doing. He managed to catch a glimpse through the slightly ajar door and saw the young demigod lying on a bed, his eyes open but visibly tired.
The next day, as Damian walked among the camp's facilities, he noticed a familiar movement near the entrance to the central area. He crept closer, trying not to be seen, but his curiosity drove him to take a better look. It was the boy Grover had brought in the day before, the twelve-year-old Damian had only briefly seen in the infirmary.
The boy was walking alongside Grover, who was trying to show him around the camp. Although he still looked a bit shaken and disoriented, his gaze grew more attentive with each step. Grover pointed out various areas of the camp, explaining the training grounds, the cabins, and, of course, the dangers lurking around every corner. The boy seemed to be taking it all in, but his expression betrayed an underlying unease, a clear sign that he hadn't yet fully grasped the world around him.
Damian stayed in the shadows, watching the scene closely. Though he was used to staying unnoticed, this time he couldn't take his eyes off the new arrival. His mind raced with all the questions he'd asked himself when he saw the boy in the infirmary: how would he adapt? Would he be able to overcome his fear of monsters and the challenges of camp? Damian knew how hard it was, but also how necessary. He had learned the hard way that Camp Half-Blood offered no respite.
Grover continued talking to the boy, trying to reassure him, while the young demigod occasionally paused, casting puzzled glances at the other cabins or training fields. Grover seemed intent on providing comfort, but a subtle worry lingered in his eyes.
Unintentionally, Damian had stepped a bit too close, and when Grover noticed him, he turned with a surprised but understanding smile. "Hey, Damian," he said in a friendly tone, though tinged with mild surprise. "I didn't think you'd come over."
Grover's boy, who hadn't noticed Damian until then, looked up at him. "Hi," he said timidly, his face still marked by fear. "Are you one of the kids here?"
Damian nodded but couldn't find the words. He only gave a small gesture of his head, as if to reassure the boy. He felt awkward, but something about the boy made him want to do more. Something beyond just staying hidden.
Grover, noticing Damian's silence, stepped in smoothly. "This is Damian," he explained calmly. "He's been here for a year now, but he's not much of a talker. Still, he's one of the bravest kids at camp, even if he doesn't like to say much."
The boy seemed relieved by Grover's kindness. "Nice to meet you, Damian," he said with a hesitant smile, still a bit tense but showing signs of opening up.
Damian gave a small wave but remained silent. He felt a connection to the boy, though he couldn't explain why. Perhaps it was their shared loneliness, the fear of never being enough. Despite everything, he felt he needed to do something to help him, even if speaking felt like a challenge.
Grover, observing the interaction, smiled to himself, then said, "Come on, let's take a tour. I'll show you where the archery range is and where the others practice sword fighting. Damian, why don't you come with us?"
Damian hesitated for a moment but then nodded. He wasn't one for socializing, but he felt he needed to do something for the boy, even if it just meant being there silently, offering a reassuring presence. He walked alongside Grover and the newcomer as the camp around them buzzed with its usual lively chaos. The tour continued, with Grover patiently showing Percy the various corners of Camp Half-Blood. Damian followed quietly, watching Percy's reactions. The boy seemed calmer, but now and then he cast uncertain glances at the demigods he passed. Damian understood that kind of confusion well—the feeling of being in a new place and not knowing what to expect.