"So this is Camp Half-blood? I must say, it's not as grand as I expected," Freyr told his brother.
They stood at the edge of the camp, a nigh invisible wall of magic standing between them and the shabby wooden gate.
As Percy stepped forward, he could feel a nearly imperceptible gathering of power pushing against him. It was as if the camp didn't want to allow him to enter, but had to nonetheless.
As he turned to look at his siblings, he went to speak.
"You're not supposed to be able to enter."
Percy had to keep from jumping as he was startled by a sudden light voice behind him.
He whirled around, þráðr vefa in his hand. As he swung, he stopped the blade of the axe mere inches away from the speaker's throat.
Before him stood a Nymph. A Dryad, if he remembered correctly.
She looked at him with a daring look in her eyes, but he could see her fear underneath.
"You're not supposed to be here," She repeated, with much more force.
"I'm sorry for attacking you, we mean no harm. Really," Percy said to her, lowering his axe.
"Who are you then? And how were you able to enter?" She took a step back to give him a once over, briefly getting lost in his eyes.
"I am Perseus Northborn. I am a friend of Lord Hades and Lady Hestia. They themselves asked me to come here. Now, could I ask you to help my siblings enter?" Sure enough, his siblings were pushing against the forcefield, hoping to gain entry. Freyr had even taken his sword out, in the hopes of fighting his way in.
"Very well, you don't seem to have any ill intent, although, may I suggest you keep that one," She says, nodding in Freyr's direction, "in check."
"Of course I will, thank you very much," Percy told her, with a small bow out of respect.
The Dryad raised her eyebrow at his actions but turned to his siblings nonetheless. "Enter."
And with nothing more than a silent whisper, the two Gods fell forward, smashing into the ground.
As the Dryad turned to walk away, Percy called one last thing after her.
"Can you tell me where I can find Chiron?"
Without so much as even turning around, she told him to seek out the big, blue house.
"Well, that went as smoothly as always. Let's go," Percy said, leading his siblings to the center of the camp.
"What the hell is this place?" Freyr stuttered out, noticing his surroundings. "Is this meant to be some kind of joke?"
They had found themselves in the worst summer camp possible.
Broken, old shacks littered the campsite. Children ran around, not even caring as they bumped into them. A giant stone wall stood at the valley's edge, lava flowing down its edges.
A young boy, not even ten, was running around with a sword, dodging the attacks of someone far older than him.
"These are… Children," Freya spoke, a disgusted look on her face. "How can they let their children fight for them?"
Percy looked around in anger. For years, he had known the Greeks.
Yes, they had told him that their children fought for them.
But they hadn't told him they were children.
Percy felt lied to, he had always defended his friends and always respected that different pantheons have different manners. Different ways of living.
But they were children.
With anger in his step, he heightened his pace, heading straight to the house that the Driad had mentioned.
Behind him, his siblings exchanged a worried look.
"Chiron!"
His angry shout echoed across the camp, drawing attention from all the kids to him. As he stood at the bottom of the blue porch, he saw the door quickly swing open. In front of him, stood a half horse, half man, a bow with a loosely balanced arrow in his hand.
"Chiron, we need to talk," Percy told him, seeing the recognition slowly dawn in Chiron's eyes.
"Perseus, my boy, how good to see you." Seeing his old friend, Chiron got a look of happiness on his face, only to have it immediately disappear as he saw the look of anger on his face.
He didn't know why he was angry, but knowing him, he could guess.
"Let's take this inside, there we can talk."
With an angry nod, Percy motioned his siblings to follow him, as he followed the Tutor of Demigods inside.
As Chiron entered, his body slowly transformed into a wheelchair-bound, human body. He slowly rolled himself behind the desk.
Percy was too angry to notice the transformation.
"Children, Chiron. They're children," He started, trying his damnedest to stay calm. "We came here to ask for help, and what is it I find? You're making an army of child soldiers."
Chiron could see the disappointment creep into his eyes. He had known that the reaction would be severe but had hoped that he could push the moment as far back as possible. It seemed that was no longer possible.
He had to contain this problem before Percy would march to Olympus.
Only the Gods know what he could do to them.
"I am sorry Perseus, I had not intended for you to find out this way. But I beg you to understand, that we lack any other possibilities. If there were one, I would be the first to accept it," He said, clowning his eyes with a pained look.
As Percy looked at his old friend's face, he could see the genuine sorrow pulse under his eyelids.
But before anyone could continue the conversation, Freyr spoke up, interrupting their stare down. "Perhaps, this conversation is best saved for another day. I agree that this information is alarming, but we have a task set ahead of us."
"Ah yes, I was informed of your mission. By Lord Hades, nonetheless," He answered, purposely turning his eyes away from Percy's. Chiron turned around, moving over to the table, a map of America neatly placed on it. "I would help you, but neither the gods nor I know of Lady Artemis' whereabouts. We know she was taken, but from nor to where they took her," He said, a tone of sadness overtaking his voice.
"Do not fret, old horse. We know where we need to go. We are simply here because my dear aunt wanted us to get a prophecy. I would also like to tell you that no quest is to be sent," Percy responded.
"My boy, I must insist, this is not how we do things here. If we want to succeed, a quest of three must be sent, Gods and Giants are not permitted…"
"I know of your traditions, friend. But this situation calls for a different approach. You may regard my words as if they came from the mouth of Holy Zeus himself," He answered, his irritation at the centaur starting to reach the limit.
Right as Chiron seemed like he would object again, the door burst open, and a seemingly young girl ran into the room. But Percy wasn't fooled, he could sense the immortal aura she was exuding, only powered further by the silver tiara on her head.
"Chiron, we must speak." The girl didn't seem to notice the other occupants of the room, so Percy motioned his siblings to move backward Into the shadows.
"Zoe, this is hardly the right time to…" Chiron started, hoping to placate the girl.
"This is more important than whatever you were doing before. It's Lady Artemis, she has been captured, and taken to the mountain of the Titans," The now newly dubbed Zoe interrupted him in a thick old English accent, angrily talking over the old horse.
"Yes, but, Zoe. I am currently busy trying to find a way to…" He tried again.
But the girl wasn't having it.
"We know where she is, and who is holding her. We can launch an assault on the Broken Halls, defeat any of the Crooked one's allies present, and rescue my Goddess," She rattled off. "I must see the oracle and wake up my Hunters, we must free her."
"Zoe! I urge you to be calm and listen to me," He said, this time putting some force into his voice.
With a miffed look, she gave a tiny nod, finally letting the old horse talk.
"We know of your Mistress' plight, and before you start talking," He said, seeing her almost interrupt him again. "We are currently discussing how we would save her. I also might add that we would have probably been done if you had not stormed in, in the middle of the night. Which is against the camp rules, might I add?"
She didn't look apologetic in the slightest, but she did hook on to one thing he had said.
"We?"
"Yes, Huntress, that is what he said," Percy spoke up, moving out of the shadows again, beside him, his siblings came into the light once more, too. He looked into her eyes to gauge her reaction.
And react she did, as she pulled out her knife, glowing silver in the sliver of moonlight slipping through the windows.
"This one is quite strong-willed, to not feel any restrictions in the proximity of my domain." He thought, an amused look on his face.
"Be still, my dear, he is a friend," Chiron interjected, already imagining all the ways that could go wrong.
"Speak, who are you?"
"My name is Perseus Northborn and these are my siblings. In our realm, we are known as the warrior's three and we are here as friends. I merely wish to do exactly what you wish, to save your patron. As for your request, that will not happen. No quest will be sent, only I will be going. Thus has it been decreed by your gods." As he explained, he decided to throw in an extra bit of flair, thinking it couldn't hurt. That, and he was quite bored.
"Wait, I know you, you were in Maine. You killed the Manticore." She said, realization settling on her features. "Why would you be the one who goes to save her? You want us to simply stay here as our Mistress suffers, Who are you to demand this of us?"
"I am afraid that he will not budge on this, child. Unfortunately, he does indeed have Olympus' backing. It seems you must stay here." Chiron told her, letting out a weary sigh.
"No! If My Hunters cannot go, then I will follow you. This is my task."
"Girl, this is not a possibility. There is no place for you on this mission. You would only slow us down," Freya finally spoke up, trying to speak for her brother.
"I will not take no for an answer, I must come with. I can…" She got interrupted by Percy with a reaction his siblings hadn't expected.
"I accept."
"Brother? Surely this is highly unwise? We cannot fight to the best of our abilities if we have to babysit a Demigod," Freyr told his brother, questioning his highly unusual decision.
Percy just stood there, a tiny amused smile on his lips.
"I accept, on one condition."
"What?" Zoe responded, an annoyed look in her eyes. She didn't like having to bargain with a male, and it was obvious.
"You may join us. All I ask is that you fight a warrior of my choosing first."
A stunned silence overtook the room. All of the older immortals among them knew that it was not like him to give in to someone's demands, the young Jotunn was known for his childlike stubbornness and his inability to budge on important subjects.
"Brothir, this hardly seems wise, we cannot fight her. The risk of injury is far too high," Freyr exclaimed in shock.
"She will not fight any of us, here present in this room." The answer Percy gave didn't clear up anything, but the Huntress took it as a good sign for her.
"So what? I am to fight one of the Demi-Gods? This is not a challenge, I have done it hundreds of times," She answered him, a smug grin on her face. "Alas, if you think this a challenge, I will surely beat it. Pick your chosen."
In response, he simply walked out of the building, his bear-fur cloak billowing behind him. The white fur on his shoulders waved in the wind as he walked to the arena, his siblings in tow behind him.
"What are you planning, Brothir? Surely you know this would not be smart. She will easily beat these mortals, and then we'll be stuck with her. She will only slow us down," Freya told her brother, hoping to sway him on his choice.
"It is not like you to feel superior, Systkin. Besides, I know what I'm doing."
And at once, the pieces fell into place. "You have had a vision?"
"Yes, Systkin. I know not what role she will play, but we stand at the precipice of a choice. I feel like this is the smarter of the two options," He said, a faraway look in his eyes. "Besides, if she does not prove worthy in this fight she will be left behind."
It was at this moment that Freyr interjected with the lingering question. "Who will you have her fight, Brothir?"
"See, that's actually where I need our sister's help. There is a certain long-gone apprentice of mine I want you to summon."
"Brothir, you know that's not how it works. Havi will have my head."
Freya had frowned at her brother's idea. She had to give it to him, it was smart. He'd have her summon a legendary fighter from the fields of Folkvangr, to fight on their behalf. It would certainly ease her worries if the Halfblood could at the very least hold her own in this fight.
"Fret not Systkin, be not wary. I will deal with any consequences dealt to us. Even then, the Hanged One will stand beside me in my decisions."
"Very well," She told her brother with a begrudging smile, as the group walked into the arena. "I will need space for this. Keep the Halfling at a distance."
As she strolled into the arena's center, she started whispering, softly at first. As her voice got louder, the runes on her hands started glowing. A sickly purple at first, the light quickly started transforming into an array of white and black light, fighting for dominance. Her black fingertips started oozing, like ink dripping from her fingernails. Her screams were slowly growing louder as if reaching the crescendo of a song. With an otherworldly voice, she screamed the words that had been written at the death of the last great hero of Midgard.
"Vöxtr í lífi, heiðr í dauða, eg boða yðr at þjóna yðr blóðbróðir enn einu sinni. Eg kalla yðr, Sigurðr!"
With a blinding flash of light, the wind that had only just been blowing through the arena completely disappeared. Not even a sliver of the light that had been shining from the Goddess was left.
There, in the middle of the arena, stood a man. At first, but a shim. A silhouette. Slowly but surely, it transformed into a solid form.
The Hero, Sigurd. Alive once more.
"Dragon slayer. Hero of old, Sigurdr. You have been summoned to test the might of a Hero much like yourself."
"Yes, my Lady. In death, I will serve, as I have in life." Sigurd said, a robotic voice coming from the man, not yet used to life again.
With a nod, Freya turned to the Halfblood. "You have your enemy, we do not expect you to win. Earn his respect, and you will have ours."
As Zoe looked at the giant of a man, she was struck with an unknown feeling.
She was scared.
Sigurd struck an imposing figure. He had a giant long sword, inlaid with runes, a band of feathers on its hilt. A shield with sagas of death was hung upon his wrist. Around his shoulders, he had two wolf pelts, one black, one white. His belt was adorned with noble stones, animal teeth, and claws. A beautiful small axe was strapped to his upper thigh.
"I ask of you to go light on me, Lady, I have not fought in a corporeal body for centuries," He said, politely bowing at Zoe.
His answer was a sneer from the girl, who took an offensive stance.
Without warning, he had stormed over to her, fast on his feet, like lightning made physical. A mighty roar left his lips as he swung his giant sword in a sideward arc.
Still surprised by the unexpected attack, Zoe could just barely avoid the attack. Jumping back, she tripped and fell to the ground.
Seeing his chance, Sigurd swung his sword in a downward movement, trying to squash her where she lay.
"By the Gods, are you trying to kill me?"
"If you are as good as someone of your position should be, you can beat him easily. Are you saying you can't win?" Percy told her from the sidelines.
As Sigurd once again squared up to swing his sword at her, jumped several paces back, hoping to create some space between them.
Zoe reversed the grip on one of her knives and took a breath.
This enemy was strong, fast, and had a weapon that gave him a lot of reach. She could use that very same reach against him.
This time, when he went in for another attack, she was ready. She nimbly jumped out of the way, dodging his sword by mere inches. Every time he swung, she would do anything to stay just out of reach, jumping, ducking, rolling.
Sigurd tried to hit her with his sword in any which possible way, but failed each time. She kept on dodging till she saw her chance. Hoping to make up for the small amount of reach he lacked, Sigurd overextended.
In a flash, Zoe was inside his guard, forcing him to jump back and give up room for the first time since the start of the fight.
"Good try. Such a shame though, that you failed to hurt him," Came the voice of Freya. Percy stayed silent, he had seen what the others had missed.
Sigurd stood still, his breathing ragged. He swiped a hand over his arm, pulling it back, covered in red. A smile overtook his face. "A worthy opponent, it seems." With a grunt, Sigurd stood up straight. He heaved and, stabbed his sword into the ground, the 52-inch sword disappearing nearly 20 inches into the ground.
The heavy wolf fur on his shoulder was dropped, his armor falling with it.
Sigurd now stood, nothing but a tattered cloth hung on his bulky frame.
As that too was ripped off, his muscular frame, littered with runes and scars, became visible. From his thigh, he grabbed the ornate short axe, accompanying it with a small axe pulled from a backstrap.
"Enough! You have proven yourself, Zoe," Came the voice of Percy.
"What?! I have hurt him, I can beat him." As she once again prepared to attack him, she was surprised to hear her opponent laugh. "Are you laughing at me? Come here and I will show you what a mistake that is," She said, with an angry voice.
"Gladly."
With that single word, Sigurd lunged at her. This wasn't like before, he was much faster. There was no way she could block him, he was too fast and too strong.
In the blink of an eye, he was upon her. He swept her feet out from under her, punching her in her stomach with the but of his axe, launching her downward midair.
When she slammed into the ground, he followed up with a kick to the stomach launching her through the arena like a football. With a grunt of pain, she tried to stand up but was pushed down by a knee in the small of her back, an axe laid against her neck.
"Yield."
"Never," Came Zoe's reply.
"Why do you struggle? What do you fight for?"
"I need to save my Lady, even if it means following a male."
"Enough, Sigurd. That's enough." As Percy spoke to him, Sigurd immediately pulled away his weapon and knee, offering her a hand after sheathing his twin axes.
"You were a worthy opponent, Lady Zoe. I look forward to hearing of your sagas."
"Thank you for your help, old friend, you have given me more insight than even I expected," Percy told him, looking his old apprentice in the eyes.
"It was my honor, my Lord, I would fight for you and Lady Freya any day." With a bow to Freya and a sturdy forearm clasp for Percy, the legendary hero of old started disappearing.
With one last look at his friends, he moved to Zoe, who seemed confused at the whole happening.
"You fight with honor and glory. But you hold back, and there is no honor in that." With the wave of his hand, he silenced her reply. "You have much to learn, Warrior." As he spoke, he stuck a hand behind his back, pulling out his sword. "This is the sword I used to slay Fafnir, the mighty dragon. It goes by the name of Gorm and has been with me for many moons, and now it is yours. May it bring out your power as it did mine, and may you slay many a worthy opponent with it."
As he put the giant sword into her hands, it slowly transformed into a smaller more intricate sword.
"May you fell many an enemy, and protect innocents. And may you lay it down when its work is done. As he pulled back his hand, leaving behind the sword, he disappeared, returning to the waiting halls of Folkvangr.
With a knowing grin, Percy stepped in front of her. "I know you will use that sword well," He said, walking by her, in the direction of the exit.
"What does this mean?" She said, studying the sword with an intense look.
"It means you were just given one of the strongest swords from my realm."
Happy New Year!
I got a bit busy with all the festivity and stuff, which caused me to post much later than I wanted.
So here is a bit of a longer chapter to make it up to you guys and gals.
Also, MY FIRST FIGHT SCENE! Yay! ;)
I'm eager to hear what everyone thinks.
As always, a huge thanks to the usual three. =)
Thanks for reading the chapter, I hope you enjoyed.
Check out TemplarHalo on AO3.
Check out Arkkkk on Fanfiction,net.
Check out Sol PJOFan on Fanfiction,net.
Spartan, signing off.