Author's

so sorry for the long wait between chapters lately... life happened and things got crazy at work and at home. Just wanted to let you know I'm by no means done writing I have enjoyed it a lot and though I haven't hand much time to write I haven't stopped bain storming what comes nex. so without further delay back to the story.

:)

Chapter 23 Home?

Luke's POV

As the sun sank once more on Long Island, I prepared to sneak into the camp. I decided to enter from the West woods because I knew none of the campers would dare go near them. Though it would be safe enuff as long as I carried an open flame. So I waited in the edge of the woods until I knew the camp would be asleep, then made my move. Extinguishing my torch I moved into the camp gliding from shadow to shadow. Most of the camp looked the same as it did six years ago. The first main difference was the dining hall, it was much bigger than I remembered. As I got closer I realized it had been completely rebuilt, and I had no doubt in my mind about who had designed it. Yet, I was blown away by Annabeth's ability, she had remade the old pavilion into a functional work of art. Tall ornate marble callims formed the primitor of the pavilion. Fluttering gently in the breeze were long sheer orange and purple curtains. Which alternated from the engraved marble beam that held the callims in place. As I walked through the entrance, I looked up to see Ivy growing on a lattice over the top of the pavilion, which would provide shade during lunch. All around the pavilion sacrificial flames burned in bronze braziers. At the sight of them I got a sour taste in my mouth. I had never liked making sacrifices to the gods. In my opinion, they didn't deserve it, which only meant the sacrifice was a waste of good food. The site of all the extra brasures disgusted me, so taking my eyes off them I surveyed the rest of the pavilion. The tables were obviously new, seeing as they were lacking all the food stains and graffiti that would normally be present. Not only that, but they were longer than they used to be and well crafted from polished wood. Also there were more than before, instead of just twelve there had to be at least thirty and room for more. Unbidden, the corner of my mouth crept into a slight smile, because all the extra room could only mean one thing. Percy, had at least tried to keep his promises to me.

"That's right Luke."

The girl's voice came unexpectedly from behind me. Flinching, I whirled with one hand on my sword, to face whomever had addressed me. Then immediately dropped it to my side knowing it wouldn't do me any good. Because the goddess that stood before me was none other than Hestia. She smiled kindly as she said.

"Your words had a big impact on Percy, and he took that promise to heart. Not only that but he has also inspired others to follow in his footsteps."

What she meant by that I wasn't sure, but I decided to change the topic away from Jackson.

"Lady Hestia, may I ask the reason for your visit?"

I may not have liked treating the gods with respect, but I'm foolish enough to get myself vaporized.

"Of course, you see Luke, I came to welcome you home."

"Home? Hestia, this place is not my home, and hasn't been for a long time."

Smiling, she shook her head.

"On the contrary, it has never been your Home. Not truly anyway."

I didn't show it, nor did I understand why but her words stung. Lacing my fingers behind my back, I kept my tone as respectful as possible.

"Lady Hestia, help me to understand your meaning, by this place never truly being my home."

Somehow the goddess continued to stand in kind and regal beauty, as she continued to completely demoralize me.

"To begin with Luke Castellon you have never truly had a Home. When you dwelled in the house of your mother it was not your Home, as you spent most of your time hiding or avoiding it. Going so far as to swear you would never return to it. Camp Half-Blood is not your Home, because the five years spent here you felt trapped and abandoned. This is the place your resentment towards Olympus grew exponentially. Not even on board your own ship, the Princess Andromeda, did you have a Home. Rather it was your prison. It became the symbol of your slavery to my father. You have spent all your life running, whether you realized it or not. You ran from the house of your mother, you ran from this place, you tried to run from Kronos. And now you are running from your past."

I stood firm under her words, determined not to show that each one hit me with the force of Sisyphus's boulder. Once she had finished calling me a coward I asked.

"If this was never my home then why are you welcoming me back as if it is?"

"Because my Hearth is open to all in need of sanctuary. You can't run forever Luke. I just hope that you will choose to make a stand and be the Hero you're remembered as. Before it's too late."

"Hero?"

"The answer is at your feet."

I glanced down automatically, and saw that many names were carved into the marble floor. Each one painted with gold, but the name at my feet was my own. I raised my eyes to look at the goddess but she had vanished, leaving me alone once again. Kneeling, I ran a hand over my name, reading the slab. As emotions I couldn't name or understand weld up inside my chest.

Luke Castellon

Son of Hermes

former Head Counselor,

Great sword's man, teacher and friend.

Thank you for your sacrifice. You were a hero in the end.