19. Visions and dreams

Damian was wandering through the camp, trying to clear his mind, when he bumped into Nico di Angelo. The boy, with his dark hair and piercing gaze, observed him curiously as soon as he saw him. Nico seemed to have something to say and, indeed, had a question ready.

"You're Damian, right? The one who draws and has strange visions?" Nico asked, his voice full of interest but devoid of the usual coldness one might expect from him.

Damian nodded slowly, still a bit surprised by Nico's interest. He wasn't used to receiving much attention, but there was something friendly about the boy despite his air of mystery.

"Well, yes, I… draw," Damian replied, trying not to appear too embarrassed. "But I'm not sure they're just 'strange visions.' It feels more like something… happens when I draw. I can't control it."

Instead of pulling away or laughing, Nico stepped closer, a curious smile on his face. "You know, I… I also have a special connection to the world of the dead," Nico said, almost as if sharing something personal. "Maybe what happens with your drawings is similar. I have some… cards. Mythomagic cards. Would you like to see them?"

Damian hesitated for a moment but then nodded. "You know," he said shyly, "I'd like to learn how to use those cards. They might help with my drawings… and maybe with the visions too."

Nico looked at him for a moment, as if considering something. Then, without saying anything, he handed him the deck. "Try using them. But remember, they're not a game. Mythomagic is powerful. You have to be ready for what it might reveal."

Damian took the cards with trembling hands, feeling a shiver down his spine. Each card seemed to hold a piece of a larger puzzle, something he was about to uncover, but only if he was ready to face it.

"Thanks, Nico," Damian said, smiling gratefully. It was the first time someone had offered him a key to better understanding his experiences, and for Damian, it meant more than he could express in words.

With his heart racing, Damian hid behind Thalia as everyone's eyes turned toward him. Zoe Nightshade, the lieutenant of the Hunters, took the drawing with a skeptical expression. Despite her reserved and unreadable demeanor, Damian sensed a slight tension in her movements as she looked at the paper.

In the drawing, Zoe recognized herself with striking accuracy: the details of her armor, the bow in her hands, her wavy hair tied back. Before her stood a towering, monstrous figure—a man with a lion's head and a massive axe. It looked like a scene from an ancient legend, yet Zoe knew Damian couldn't have known anything like it.

"Who showed you this?" Zoe asked, her voice calm but laden with intensity. Her posture grew rigid, as if she were trying to suppress a stronger reaction.

Damian lowered his gaze, trying to hide even further behind Thalia, who was watching him with concern. "I don't know..." Damian murmured in a barely audible voice. "It just... came on its own. When I draw, it happens... like I'm not the one controlling my hand."

Percy stepped closer, taking the drawing from Zoe's hands to examine it more closely. "Well, this is unsettling," he commented, casting a worried glance at Thalia. "You don't think Damian is... predicting the future, do you?"

Thalia scoffed, though her expression betrayed a flicker of unease. "I don't know, but I do know that if he ran all the way here to show us this, there's got to be a reason."

Zoe raised her hand, reclaiming the drawing. She studied it carefully before looking back at Damian. "This isn't the first time you've had... visions like this, is it?" she asked, her tone softer but still resolute.

Damian shook his head, biting his lip. "Sometimes... I don't know if they're visions or just drawings. But this one... this one felt important. I didn't want... anything bad to happen to you or the others."

A heavy silence fell over the group. Even the Hunters, who usually stayed on the sidelines, were watching the drawing with serious expressions. Zoe folded the paper carefully and tucked it into the pocket of her jacket. "I'll take this into consideration," she said finally, her tone gentler than expected. "Thank you, Damian."

Damian nodded faintly, relieved but still nervous. Thalia turned to him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You did the right thing," she whispered. "Even if we don't know what it means, it's better that they're prepared."

Damian watched as the group headed toward the edge of the camp, still feeling partly responsible. He hoped the drawing was just a warning and not an inevitable fate. As he walked back with Thalia, her voice broke through the tense silence, trying to lighten the mood: "Hey, Seer Boy, now I get why you wanted my protection. You're full of surprises."

Damian couldn't help but smile shyly. Maybe he couldn't fight like the others, but in his own way, he could still try to make a difference.

When the news came that Percy had managed to join the Hunters' group thanks to a pegasus, Damian didn't know whether to feel worried or relieved. On one hand, the thought of Percy sneaking off scared him; on the other, he hoped that with Percy and Thalia there, they had a better chance of bringing Annabeth back safely.

Damian stayed in the Big House, watching Chiron pace nervously, his hoof striking the floor in a near-hypnotic rhythm. The centaur was clearly frustrated, though his expression also showed a certain resignation.

"I can't decide whether it's more irritating that he disobeys or that he always manages to get away with it," Chiron muttered. Then he stopped and looked at Damian, who was watching him from a nearby chair. "And you? How do you feel about all of this, Damian?"

Damian lowered his gaze, nervously fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie. "I just hope Annabeth comes back... and that Percy and Thalia are okay," he murmured. "I know they're strong, but... it's all so scary."

Chiron stepped closer and placed a reassuring hand on Damian's shoulder. "I know, my boy. But you have to trust them. Percy, Thalia, and the Hunters are a formidable group. And I'm certain they'll do everything they can to bring Annabeth home."

Damian nodded slowly, though the anxiety still gnawed at him. In the days that followed, he tried to keep busy: training a bit with Simon, listening to Gray's ocarina lessons, and helping out in the greenhouse with the children of Demeter. But his thoughts often drifted back to the drawing and the scene he had depicted. He was afraid that something might go terribly wrong.

Every evening, Damian stopped by the campfire to make an offering to the gods. Alongside his unknown divine parent, he prayed to Athena to protect Annabeth, to Zeus to watch over Thalia, and even to Poseidon to keep an eye on Percy. When he burned the piece of food, he would whisper a silent prayer, asking for his friends' safety.

Meanwhile, Chiron seemed increasingly worried. Though he tried to maintain calm for the sake of the other demigods, Damian noticed the agitation in his eyes and gestures. It felt like the entire mission was hanging by a thread, and there was no way of knowing how it would end.