By the time Friday rolled around, Percy was beginning to lose hope that he would ever get claimed. He knew he shouldn't feel bad, as many campers here had never been claimed and they'd been here much longer than him, but the longer he was at camp the more disconnected he felt. Every cabin had their 'thing', and none of their 'things' were his.
Every day he took time to visit a cabin and try his luck with their 'things', but none clicked like he thought they would. He didn't have the brains of the Athena cabin, (though he did have a strange affinity for architecture, he discovered from Annabeth). He couldn't make plants grow at will like Katie from the Demeter cabin. He was a decent shot with a bow and arrow but didn't have the innate archery skills of the children of Apollo. Even his fire resistance, something he had in common with Hephaestus' children, felt different. They had limits. He didn't.
From behavior alone he could guess that he wasn't a child of Ares or Aphrodite, and Mr. D was at least nice enough to give him direct confirmation that he was not his father.
Hera, Artemis, Poseidon, and Zeus all had no children. Not to Percy's knowledge, at least, which hopefully ruled all of them out.
"Maybe you're a child of Hermes," Luke offered during Friday's dinner, "He's the god of a lot of stuff. A jack of all trades."
Percy didn't think so, but he nodded as he once scraped a portion of his meal into the fire as he prayed, though at this point, his prayers felt more like messages left on read. At this point he had to assume that he was the child of a minor god and would have to do something seriously exceptional to warrant the attention.
When he went to sit back down it was very apparent that everyone was more excited than usual, especially the Ares table. Percy's mere glance at them led to Clarisse dragging her finger across her neck while staring him in the eyes before she stood up and left.
"What's everyone so excited about?" Percy asked as he finished his meal.
"Capture the flag," Luke said. "We play every friday. You've had time to explore the woods, right?"
Percy nodded, vaguely recalling passing over a stream and gazing upon a stack of rocks that Grover had insisted be called Zeus's Fist, though all he could see was a pile of deer poop.
"Okay, so there's a stream that cuts through the trees, right down the middle. That sets the boundaries. Each team gets one side of the forest, and if they get the other team's flag onto their side of the stream they win." He paused, then nudged Percy. "Hold up, watch this."
Annabeth and two of her siblings rushed into the pavilion carrying a gray banner that was emblazoned with a barn owl and an olive tree. Clarisse followed close behind with several of her cabin mates who carried a similar banner painted blood red with a crest of a spear and a board.
"Those are the flags." Luke said, "we're getting the Ares one today."
"And what if we lose?" Percy asked.
Luke smirked as he stood and clapped Percy on the back, "Annabeth doesn't lose."
Chiron's hoof thundering on the marble quieted everyone, "HEROES! You know the rules! The entire forest is fair game and the creek is the boundary. All magical items are allowed. Your flags must be displayed openly. Prisoners may be taken and disarmed, but not bound or gagged. Killing and maiming are not allowed. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic! Arm yourselves!"
He spread his arms and the tables were suddenly clear of plates and piled with bronze swords, armor and metal shields. Luke wasted no time plopping a breastplate and a helmet into Percy's arms.
"Suit up," he said. "Annabeth wants you as a border guard, and trust me, you do not want to be late to your position."
Percy hurriedly tried to follow Luke's method of putting the armor on, but only barely succeeded in putting on the breastplate by the time Luke was fully geared up. "What's border guard?"
"You need to stand by the creek and make sure no reds get past you. Easy enough, right?" Luke started to walk away, then turned back. "Oh, and Annabeth told me to tell you, make a sacrifice to the gods. Ask for strength."
With that, he strode over to Annabeth in time for her announcement for the teams to move out. Luke's tone hadn't been condescending, but after a straight week of failing to find out what he was good at with his only luck being that he was totally average at archery? It stung. Nobody else needed to beg the gods for help.
By the time he reached his post the teams had all dispersed so thin that not a single soul could be seen. Despite that, the woods were still oppressively loud. The buzzing of mosquitoes, the prowling of pre-stocked monsters, and the babbling of the creek as it flowed. It wasn't nearly as relaxing as one might think, especially when you're forced to wear armor so heavy and so hot that it felt more like trying to use an entire sauna as a shirt.
In the distance the conch horn blew and the sounds of fighting, clashing blades and clunking armor began piercing the air.
"No fun for me, I suppose," he grumbled to himself. He considered removing the uncomfortable breastplate. It's not like anyone was going to attack him, right? There was probably a reason Annabeth had stationed him in the middle of nowhere.
He decided why not and discarded the armor, quickly followed by the shield. Somehow he felt that he stood a better chance without them. He could certainly move faster, and for about the first thirty minutes, it seemed to be a good strategy. He had only seen one other person so far, and it was one of his teammates.
Unfortunately that luck couldn't last too long. Four Ares kids burst from the foliage across the creek, led by none other than Clarisse. He could see her eyes through the slits in her helmet and for a moment, she looked surprised.
"...Where's your armor?" she asked, and Percy really began to feel like an idiot.
"I… didn't think anyone would attack me," he tried. All four of them burst into laughter.
Percy nearly pissed his pants as Clarisse stepped up to him. She looked like a real warrior, unlike himself. One that would undoubtedly slaughter him for what he had done to her earlier that week.
But instead, she simply knocked him on the side of the head with her fist and continued marching.
"I'm going after the flag," she announced, "make sure he doesn't… I don't know, guard the border? And don't be afraid to rough him up a bit if he steps out of line. Keep an eye out for whatever it was he did."
Her siblings laughed stupidly as she disappeared back into the woods. Percy almost let out a sigh of relief. Had standing up to her actually won a piece of her respect?
When the flat of a bronze blade smacked him on the same spot and sent him to the ground like his head had been the bell on a high striker he realized that it didn't matter whether or not Clarisse respected him, because these three did not, and now? He was their prisoner.
"What now?" he dared to ask. "You wouldn't rather go after the flag with your team? Where's the glory in this?"
They exchanged a glance, very poorly pretending to consider it, before laughing out loud. "Nah. You see, when we met you, you embarrassed us. Made us run away like bitches, and what do we find out over this week? That you probably aren't even an Olympian's kid."
"Clarisse was impressed," the second one said, "that the kid of a minor god would dare to stand up to Ares' children. She likes your grit. But the rest of us? I think you can see where we're coming from. How insulting that would be."
"So what's now is that you're gonna try, and fail, to fight us, and we're gonna teach you why you don't mess with Ares."
Percy's stomach twisted as they began stepping closer as menacing as they could. Slow, deliberate, heavy steps that seemed to kill every plant they landed on. He hadn't even gotten a formal swordplay lesson yet. Not for lack of offers, because Luke had tried his damndest to show him a few things, but Percy turned them all down in favor of trying to find his people. What a foolish choice that had been, but even if he had taken a lesson the camp provided weaponry was awkward and clunky. There was no way he could swing that thing without bringing himself down with it.
"Hey now," he stammered, trying to push himself back to his feet. "Can't we talk this out?"
"Oh, don't worry. It won't be permanent. Just long enough to make sure you never forget."
Gabe's face flashed across Percy's eyes and he nearly began begging for mercy, but the more stubborn part of his brain knew that if he started doing that he would never live it down. It's one thing to be beaten so badly that everyone pities you, but it's something else entirely to be so cowardly that everyone sees you running and screaming for help. His many private schools had taught him at least that much.
One of the warriors lurched forward, spooking Percy enough that he scrambled to his feet.
"Good," he said, "It's no fun if you don't fight back. Go on. Get your armor. Give yourself a chance."
Percy grit his teeth so hard he thought they might chip. He reached into his pocket and removed the pen sword like he was drawing it from its sheath. "Who said I needed armor?"
He thought he managed to sound cool, but the Ares kids picked up on the tremor in his voice too. "Your funeral."
Even with their bulky armor they both moved faster than Percy. How he managed to deflect both of their first slashes he wasn't sure, but the rush of adrenaline didn't last long enough to get any attacks in. Cuts began sprouting up all over his arms, legs, face and chest before he could even register that he had been hit.
"What was that you said about needing armor?" one jeered, thrusting his blade right for Percy's midsection. Even with his demigod reflexes there was nothing that he could do to stop it.
Somewhere in the back of his head, a match struck. A fire began crackling. As the blade pierced his stomach, it was like whoever had struck the match dropped it in a puddle of kerosene. It roared, spreading through his limbs like a stampede of angry bulls. His blood spiked so high in temperature it ripe to explode from his veins.
"What the-" was all the kid managed before Percy lashed out like a whip, kicking him away so hard that he rolled all the way into the creek.
The fire in his brain did not silence, but through the crackling he heard a voice. It sounded almost like Annabeth, but there was a second voice overlapped with hers. They spoke at the same time, but the words were the most clear sentence he had heard in years.
"To Percy."
The scent of sacrifices from the dining hall flooded his senses so quickly it was almost overwhelming. Power- more power than he knew how to handle- began sparking at his fingertips.
"Ngh!" was the only sound he could grind out as he was forced to his knees, sparks and cinders jumping from his hands as he tried to contain whatever was about to happen.
"The fuck was that?" the now-wet Ares warrior snapped.
Percy tried to apologize. He didn't know what was happening either, and he desperately wanted it to stop before it burned away at him from the inside out, but as soon as he let his lips open, all of the power came rushing out.
The sound that emerged from his throat was inhuman, and it was accompanied by an eruption of flames that sprayed hundreds feet into the night sky, illuminating everything around them as if they were standing on the surface of the sun.
"Holy fuck!" Ares warrior #1 cried out, "Dude, chill out!"
Unfortunately for the two of them, chilling out seemed to be the one thing that Percy could not do. The fire coursed through him, wild and erratic, his breath searing his throat. "You wanted a fight? Come on, then!"
Percy tightened his grip on his blade. It began glowing as if it were being forged for the very first time, buzzing with explosive energy.
"Holy Styx," the first one said before Percy swung his sword. He held up his shield to block the strike and was left with half a bronze plate attached to his arm. It had been cleaved in two like butter. He barely had time to drop the smoldering remains before Percy kicked his knees out and brought the flat of his blade down on the top of his head. He crumpled down into the stream and didn't get back up.
The remaining warriors were breathing heavily. Percy could tell that the heat was oppressive, though it didn't seem to bother them. The creek was steaming in the areas closest to him, and with that bronze armor? Percy knew they were roasting like Costco chickens in there.
"Surrender," he offered, but the warriors were having none of that. Not after their brother had been so thoroughly whooped.
"For Ares!" Warrior #2 cried, and both charged him. Percy launched a stream of flames from his hand that warrior #3 managed to block until his shield began glowing from the heat, forcing him to abandon it. A swing at his helmet lit his horsehair plume ablaze and he ran to go dunk his head in the creek beside his fallen brother.
Warrior #2 began backing away. Oh no you don't, Percy thought. He grabbed #3's shield from the ground and hurled it with a strength he didn't know he possessed. It clanged against #2's helmet like a clock tower chiming midnight and he flopped over, unmoving.
Screams erupted from nearby. For a moment, Percy wondered if he had started a forest fire, but then Luke flew out from the trees with a band of blue team in tow, rushing across the boundary. A few red team members followed suit, but it was too late. Luke hopped the creek in one clean movement. The banner he carried began to change colors, shifting to silver as it burned away the symbol of Ares and gained a Caduceus.
Percy staggered. The fire inside him sputtered, flickering. His adrenaline crashed, and suddenly, he was all too aware of the blade still lodged in his gut.
"Oh," he mumbled. "Oh, no."
He sat there in his silence, knowing that there was no way his voice would ever be heard over the cheering, when the sound of quick footsteps on the pebbles found their way to his side.
"Not bad," someone said, and then Annabeth shimmered into existence right beside him. "I guess you got my blessing?"
Percy blinked up at her, dazed. "T-that was real? You really did that?"
She gave a nod. "Took some extra strawberries from dinner and burned them once we got out here. Had a feeling it might do something to you."
Then, without warning, she gripped the sword in his stomach-
-and yanked it out.
Percy's vision went white for half a second as he cried out. Thankfully no flames followed.
"Did you really have to be so rough?!" he hissed, trying to press a hand against what was surely a gaping wound, but found himself touching nothing more than a fading scar. "W-what? What's happening?"
The victory hype was fading. Everyone now seemed to be staring right at him.
"That fire. That was you?" she asked, and he nodded tiredly. As cool as it had felt in the moment, it was now feeling like it had sapped every ounce of energy from his body.
"It's never happened before," he tried to explain, "I don't know what I did, and I-I'm sorry if I almost caused a forest fire or something, I just…"
He trailed off once he realized that everyone was no longer looking at him. A soft orange glow had filled the trees, originating from right above his head. Right where everyone was staring.
Annabeth looked more confused than Percy thought possible for a daughter of Athena. She turned toward Chiron, but even he seemed too shocked to understand it fully.
He shook his head and stamped a hoof against the ground, and one by one the campers began kneeling. Annabeth, Luke, Chiron, even Clarisse all dropped to a knee and bowed their heads.
"What's going on?" Percy tried to ask.
Annabeth pointed at whatever was floating above his head. "Your mother."
Percy frantically tried to look up, but all he could see was a holographic campfire, slowly fading away. His breath left his lungs.
Then Chiron spoke, voice carrying through the woods.
"It is determined!" His tone was reverent. "The home! The hearth! The sacrificial flame! The eldest of the gods!"
He bowed his head.
"Hail, Perseus Jackson. Son of Hestia."