Chapter VII
Sanctuary
Our gods are best described as cruel and fickle, passionate and vindictive, jealous and insecure, petty and insane.
Why those fanatics within religious states continue to pray to those malakes is a mystery in and of itself.
They're not as rebellious and noble as Zagreus, the god of blood and guardian of the underworld.
Nor as kind and understanding as Melinoe, the goddess of the moon, hunt, nightmares, and ghosts.
The only two Olympians that we pray to are Hades and Hestia. At least those two are the most benevolent of the Olympians.
By all the gods! At least the god of soldiers and comradery, Atreus, has more restraint on blood lust than Ares!.
Acheronian philosopher from the populist state of Attica describes the old Olympian gods.
When she watched the other demigods of Camp Half-Blood drag her son away, Hestia exhaled with relief. She had paused from tending the hearth in the Olympian council room to watch her son's progress to Camp Half-Blood. To be honest, when she was about to go down and kill that Manticore herself, laws be damned.
Luckily, her son's powers seemed to kick in at the right time to save him, and despite that, he was able to kill the Manticore like a warrior from the age of heroes.
In the end, that strange sword saved her son's life. Hestia had never had a child; therefore, she didn't have anything to give him to help him fight. He would be forced to use the same "normal" weapons as the other half-bloods. She did not want that for her first and most likely only son she will ever have.
Her mind drifted back to the sword that her son used to kill the Manticore. No doubt, pieces of it would be scattered around the site. She made a plan to go retrieve the pieces once she was done here, but she was not the only one looking at her son's progress.
"HOLY SHIT! That is the most beautiful thing I've seen in a long time," commented Ares, grinning viciously ear to ear from his throne. "Who knew the little brat could be such a savage with a warhammer?!"
"I'm more interested in his weapon." Hephaestus spoke up, looking at the mentioned weapon with curiosity.
"Yes, but did you see the way the flames were produced and flowed?" Athena, who was becoming more interested in Heron, commented, "He must have some form of pyrokinesis to wreathe the flames around the war hammer, as he has shown."
"Pyrokinesis, eh?" Apollo spoke from his throne, pausing his music. "One of yours, Ares?"
"No, I don't have kids with pyrokinesis." Ares replied before he looked over to Hephaestus. "If it's anyone's, it's Hephaestus', though, didn't your last kid with pyrokinesis burn down a bit of London?"
When Ares brought up London, Hephaestus only glared at him. After a moment, he let out a sigh and then spoke. "No, he is not mine."
"Then who does he belong to?" Zeus spoke, scanning the faces of the gods and goddesses in the room. The room was silent, as none of the gods claimed to be the parents of the boy they found. However, none of them noticed that Hestia was paying closer attention to the fire than normal.
"Does it really matter?" asked Demeter, breaking the tense silence that reigned briefly in the council room. "He clearly isn't the child of prophecy. He looks nothing like you, Poseidon, or Hades, and fire isn't one of the powers that would make him a son of any of them. Sure, Hades has hellfire, but that was not hellfire; that was normal fire, so I don't see why we are so up in arms about it."
"You must agree that he doesn't show any signs of being the child of prophecy," she said, turning to Athena.
The goddess of wisdom nodded. "She is correct. This boy is clearly not the child of prophecy. However, this raises the question: If he is not Hephaestus' or Ares' child, who are the only ones who have pyrokinesis, then who does he belong to if not them?"
Athena brought up a very valid question as the gods began to ponder in silence. If Heron was not the son of either god, then who did he belong to? Why won't his parents claim him? While the gods were thinking in a tense silence, Hera noticed something wrong with Hestia. She seemed agitated while tending to the hearth. She was nervous about something.
At first, Hera didn't think much of it—until she remembered one specific detail about Hestia that most of her siblings forgot about.
"Hestia," Hera said, looking at the goddess on the side.
Hestia jumped a little at the sound of someone calling out her name; she could not bring herself to turn around to face the Olympian council. Usually, she would ignore the meetings because they were either fights over the same problem or reports from all the gods on what had happened recently. Now they were talking about her son, and they seemed determined to find out who his godly parent was. If they found out that she was his mother, they would want to know who his mortal father was, and she did not want one of the other gods to go knocking on his door, especially Aphrodite.
She would not allow Aphrodite to bed Heldan; he was special to her, and she would not let another god take him away from her. Aphrodite would want to take him just because he was able to capture Hestia's heart.
"You have pyrokinesis, don't you?" Hera said it more as a statement than a question.
Hestia nodded, still refusing to look at them.
"Is that demigod your son?" Hera asked, causing all the gods in the room to look at Hestia, all except for Hephaestus, who was still looking at the demigods who were brought into the Big House for medical treatment.
Hestia could not answer yes or no. If Hestia said no, she would be lying, which wasn't a problem for her, but she would be disowning her one and only son. She would never bring herself to look at him again, knowing that she had said that he wasn't her son. If she said yes, then Hestia would be putting him in danger, as they would think that she had broken her oath. She could only defend him by saying that he was born like one of Athena's offspring. Would that even sway them? She had no proof, and she was not about to let them check. This would lead to a vote.
She would not let her son's fate be decided by a vote.
Even if they did not kill him, she could take Heron away to hide him, consequences be damned.
"Hestia, is that demigod your son?" Hera repeated, standing from her throne.
"Mother," Hephaestus said before Hestia could say more. "It really doesn't matter who his godly parent is. Most likely, he is the son of one of the minor gods."
"I would have to agree; it doesn't matter; we will know if their godly parent claims him, and if not, then so be it." Hermes added that, being the god of travelers, the kid deserves some space after going through a near-death experience.
"I also agree with Hephaestus." Apollo added, "If he was important, we would have gotten a prophecy about him."
"I want to know." Aphrodite chimed in. "I want to know where he got his looks from; he doesn't look like any of the gods I know. And when he fought, the Manticore was so heroic."
"Let's call it to a vote; a tie will go to the defender." Zeus ordered, "All in favor of the godly parent of this demigod revealing themselves, raise your hand."
Hera's hand was the first to go up, followed closely by Aphrodite's; Ares' hand soon came up; after him, Artemis' hand went up; then Dionysus'; and finally Zeus'.
"Opposed."
Hephaestus' hand was the first to go up, followed by Hermes, then Apollo; Poseidon's hand went up as well, and then Demeter's hand soon came up. After a few tense moments, Athena's hand went up.
"It is a tie; the godly parent will remain a mystery until he is claimed," said Zeus. "Are there any other topics that need to be discussed?"
No one said anything.
"Then I bring this meeting to an end." Zeus said this before disappearing in a bolt of lightning.
One by one, the rest of the gods left; only Hephaestus and Hestia remained. Silence filled the room for a few minutes before Hephaestus spoke.
"Hestia, is that demigod your son?" He asked without even looking at her.
Hestia did not move for a moment before she nodded.
"I see." Hephaestus said, "Did you break your oath?"
He was not judging her; Hephaestus wasn't the judging type; he was just asking because he was curious. Hestia shook her head.
"No, he was born from true love, something like how Athena has her kids." Answered the goddess before she turned to her nephew.
"I see," nodded Hephaestus before quirking his head to the side slightly. "If I may, how did you meet the father?"
Hestia gave him a careful look and said, "You don't have to reveal his name. I just wish to know how it happened."
Hestia smiled as she looked back to the flames and began to recount how she met the man who captured her heart. The memories of her love surfaced as the goddess of the hearth remembered the time when Heldan held her hand under the starlit sky, whispering sweet nothings that made her heart flutter.
"It was two decades ago when my brother turned his daughter into a tree as punishment for using his master bolt to protect her friends from the Hellhounds."
The god of forges couldn't help but wince at the mention of that incident with the daughter of Zeus; it was one of many of his father's "bad decisions" he had made. It was Zeus who had defied the very law he had decreed in the first place.
"I was so angry at my younger brother for what he did to his child that I left Olympus to calm myself down for a bit and walk among the mortals below. It took me just a few days to get my mind off of what had transpired. So I traveled to Georgia, a peaceful, remote town in the middle of nowhere.
"It was there that I saw him." Hestia looked at her heart and smiled, remembering the day she had first met Heldan.
"What is he like?" Hephaestus asked.
"He stood out from the rest of the mortals. Aside from running a private military firm, he is powerful, generous, and much more. He travels regularly, visiting various countries and providing assistance to those in need wherever he goes. Working from daylight until sundown. If I hadn't instructed him to go to bed, he'd have worked all night. For me, it was a unique and enjoyable experience. On other occasions, though, his candor is just frightening. He is willing to make the difficult decisions that would cause most mortals to pause in fear. But he would learn from them and get better as a result."
Okay, that was unexpected. This mortal was not afraid to get his hands dirty but would later learn from it, thus making him a better man.
"Could you rebuild the sword my son used to kill the manticore?" Hestia asked.
Hephaestus snapped his fingers, and all the pieces of her son's sword appeared in his hand. There were only a few large shards, but most of them were almost as small as sand.
"It should be an easy fix, but I feel it's a little thing to do. Shall I turn it into a better weapon? I have found strange metals that I have been wanting to test out. Is there a particular weapon for your son?"
Hestia turned to look at Hephaestus. "Yes. I was thinking of a sword, but not his old one. A new one. A spatha."
Heron's vision slowly returned, but the world was spinning and his body ached. He tried to sit up, but Heron went back down when his chest started to hurt. It was almost as though someone had poured a puddle of molten iron over his chest. When Heron raised his hand to check if his head was bleeding, he felt a headache. When he touched his forehead, he felt that cotton bandages were wrapped around his head and chest. He decided not to mess with it, as he might cause it to bleed again.
His hand fell to his side as Heron lay there, unable to move his torso without hurting it. Heron looked around to see that he was in a bedroom, where the walls were as wooden as the furniture. Heron turned his head slightly, and relief rushed over him. Lying in a bed right next to his was Percy Jackson, who was still unconscious but unharmed.
His throat started to feel dry since there was no one around, and he couldn't get up. Heron had to deal with the feeling until someone would come and check on him. After five minutes, Heron tried to get up again, but his torso hurt too much to move. He tried a few more times to sit up, but in the end, Heron would lie back down.
It's been a while since he received any form of injury. The last time he was hurt like this was during the siege of Harkanibus in the savage and hostile realm of Ghur.
I wish I could get a glass of water right about now. Heron thought to himself.
Not having anything better to do, Heron closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep. After Heron got himself relaxed, he fell asleep. Thankfully, he didn't have any weird dreams or nightmares of past battles, but Heron wouldn't mind seeing that girl again.
The events of last night came to mind: the Minotaur chasing them, Percy's mother disappearing into golden dust, his fight with the warp stone corrupting Manticore, falling unconscious, then seeing the pretty blue eyes of that beautiful-looking girl.
Being a young boy at a certain stage when it comes to pretty girls, he blushed a little at the thought of the pretty girl. Hell, he sometimes blushed when he remembered that time when Etoile was around, considering her attire would make any boy stare with a blush on their face.
When he woke up, Heron saw that someone had left him a glass of water by his bed. He reached over and started to drink from it. Heron felt the cool, life-giving water run down his throat and cure his dry throat in a few gulps. He did go a little too fast, though, causing some of the water to enter his lungs and causing him to cough.
Heron heard a loud footfall approaching the door, signaling that someone at the building had heard him cough. Even though the sounds of footfall sounded more like horse hooves, the sense of a horse moving about within the house continued. After the sound disappeared, he was glad to hear rhythmic footfall approaching the door.
Wanting to see how he was dealing with Heron, he quickly jumped back into bed and tucked himself in. Closing his eyes, Heron then pretended to be still asleep in the world.
Heron opened his eyes again and saw a pretty girl with blond hair putting some food into his mouth while muttering to herself. Damn it, what was stolen?"
"What was stolen?" She gasped in surprise and jumped to her feet as Heron spoke, gazing at him with wide, terrified eyes. He observed she had tanned skin, storm-gray eyes, an orange top with the words "Camp Half-Blood" on it, and a blue skirt that came just above her knees. She wore blue sneakers as well.
"You should still be unconscious; how are you still awake? How are you even fully standing?" the girl asked with disbelief in her words.
"Durability runs deep in my family. Although my wounds still hurt like hell, Heron shrugged as he stretched his arms and groaned in pain. "I must've been out for a few hours; no wonder I'm stiff." He rolled his arms and shoulders and cracked his neck, sighing as he did so. "And I've always been a fast healer." He nodded to Percy. "Will he be okay?"
"Yeah, he just needs some rest, and then he'll be up tomorrow," the girl replied.
Heron gave a weak but hollow chuckle. "I'm glad to hear that." He nodded before extending his hand.
"Heron Hammer."
The girl looked at him as if studying him before smiling and shaking his hand with her own. "Annabeth Chase."
"So where am I, and where's my weapon?" Heron asked as he looked around the infirmary.
"You're in camp-half blood, and your weapons are under your bed," said Annabeth, kneeling down and pulling out a large box that she opened to show Heron's warhammer and bolt pistol. "Your hammer was a bit heavy, though."
Heron picked up Soul Drinker like it was a small rock and hooked it across his waist. "Not for me." He picked up the bolt pistol and placed the long-range weapon in his holster on his leg. "So what the hell is Camp Half-Blood?"
"Chiron and Mr. D will explain it better to you." Annabeth said this before leading him out of the medical wing. "You and your friend caused a bit of a ruckus last night."
"We were dealing with the son of Pasiphae and a monster from Persian mythology that almost killed me, so excuse us for the noise we made." Heron said it sarcastically.
"You know your mythology," said Annabeth, a little impressed, but Heron waved it off.
"My dad's idea. He asked me to familiarize myself with different cultures."
"What about your mother?" Annabeth asked... more like interrogated.
Narrowing his eyes slightly, Heron could see as plain as day that Annabeth was trying to fish for information about his personal life; unfortunately for her, this wasn't his first experience with someone trying to dig into his personal life.
"I never met her." Annabeth narrowed her eyes as she considered what Heron had said. Then she shook her head. She was about to lead him through the camp until she finally noticed how shallow Heron's breathing was.
"You don't look so good."
"I got hurt fighting a hybrid made up of a man, a lion, and a scorpion. Of course I don't look so good."
She took a small bottle that contained a yellow liquid; in all honesty, it looked like piss. Annabeth carried the little bottle over to Heron, removed the cap, and motioned for him to accept it.
"What is in that bottle?" said Heron, looking at her a little wind-eyed.
"It's called nectar; it will heal you." She was gesturing for him to take it again.
Heron looked at the concoction with a wary eye before he consciously took it from Annabeth's outstretched hand. If Heron knew anything about Wonder Drinks, it was that they normally tasted horrible and left a foul taste in your mouth for the next hour. How did he know this was going to taste bad? His sword sister was no stranger to herbal treatments, and she would frequently mix something together when he felt sick. However, she would often put her concoctions into something with a strong taste to help him down it.
When he complained about the taste, he pushed the remaining liquid away. Elodie would push it back towards him and say something along the lines of, "It may taste horrible at first, but it will be worth it in the end." The end result. It worked. That is after she shoved the bottle contents down his gullet.
Unfortunately, Heron drank all the water that was left for him, so there was no way for him to wash it down. He looked at the small bottle before Heron gave Annabeth a glance that said, "Are you sure about this?"
"Just take it, you big baby; it's not going to hurt you. It will probably taste like pizza." She said she was getting a little impatient.
Heron looked at the bottle one more time before he quickly downed the thing. He didn't get much on his tongue, so he barely got any taste, but it did kind of taste like-
He gasped and held his stomach, which began to distort. Heron wasn't paying attention to Annabeth since he was distracted by his stomach throwing a tantrum. However, Annabeth rushed over to him in an instant and asked him what was wrong. The next sensation he felt was a severe churning in his stomach.
Having a good feeling about what he was about to do, Heron threw his head over to the side of his bed. The flooring by his bed was covered by the contents of his stomach, as yellow liquid mixed into it. Heron's stomach rebellion left a bad taste in his mouth alone, along with a few bits of his undigested lunch. Not wanting to swallow what was once in his stomach, he spat it out onto the floor.
Once he was sure that nothing else was coming out, Heron pulled himself from the side of the bed and looked at Annabeth, who was looking at the puke on the ground. Surprise was written all over her face.
Heron pointed to her. "I told you." He then let his hand drop to the side.
"That wasn't supposed to happen. The nectar was supposed to heal you." She did not look at Heron while she shook. She seemed to be questioning why the "Nectar" didn't heal in her mind as it was supposed to.
"Well, let's not feed me anything else that has a bunch of unknown ingredients in it, hmmp."
Annabeth smiled. "I will be sure to consult your stomach the next time I feed you something."
"After that, you're going to butter him up before he even considers talking to you." He joked.
Heron started to pull himself together, and eventually he was able to walk over to the side of the table, on the opposite side of his puke, and Annabeth helped him stand. She pulled his arm over her shoulder, and they began their way out of the living room.
Annabeth pushed open the door when they got close enough. The door offered no resistance and swung open, revealing an amazing sight that made him look around with awe in his eyes, but aloud, he just let out an impressed whistle.
From what he saw, the landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture—an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena—except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and seniors played volleyball.
Canoes glided across a small lake that connected to the open sea. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Annabeth's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode Pegasus down a wooden trail, then flew through the air.
"Not a bad place. But I've seen better," Heron admitted, getting a frown from Annabeth before she led him towards a large building that had an open porch on it.
Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. The man facing him was small but porky. He had a red nose, big, watery eyes, and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He also wore a tiger-pattern Hawaiian shirt.
The second man, who was in a wheelchair, was someone Heron recognized when he laid eyes on him.
"Mr. Brunner, is that you?" Heron said this with surprise, causing the Latin teacher to turn to them and smile.
"Heron, my boy, it's good to see you up and about," he said before gesturing to the empty seats. "Come on, I'll answer the questions you no doubt have. is just an alias; here I am called Chiron."
Heron nodded his head as Chiron looked somewhere and called out. "Grover, come here, please."
Heron saw Grover from the far corner of his eye, running over with a shoebox in hand. "Heron, nice to see you up and about."
He clasped his hands and looked at the satyr. It was tempting to break the half-breed's back and throw him over the cliff to die, making his dying moments horrific. Then Heron reminded himself that Grover was a Greek nature spirit, not a beastman, and that because Grover had been left unconscious in the accident, he could do nothing to help both of them in the struggle against the minotaur of his fight against the manticore.
Heron strongly questioned Grover's ability to free Sally Jackson from capture, even if Grover was conscious. His suspicions that Grover brought the minotaur to them persisted. Heron quickly shoved those thoughts to the side of his mind; that kind of thought would only make him feel like one of the Knights Excelsior.
"Thanks, Grover, even though I still don't trust you; I'm glad to see you're okay after the car flipped." Heron said it with a forced smile as he began to open the shoebox. He had barely opened it an inch when a black and queasy green glow began to shine. It only lasted a second, but the effects it caused were drastic.
Upon laying eyes on the glow, all their eyes began to hurt just looking at it. The man at the other side of the table stopped reading his newspaper and bristled at the objects from within the box. He sensed an overwhelming amount of evil that made him sick to his stomach. As every instinct in his body screamed at him to get rid of it.
Heron closed the box right away and hurriedly pushed it to the end of the table, where it would have dropped and spilled its contents if the man sitting at the end of the table wearing a Hawaiian shirt hadn't slammed his palm on top of the box to stop it. With a single move of his palm, vines wrapped around the box in such a tight manner that the wood began to moan against the pressure. Making sure that whatever was within the shoebox would never see the light of day again.
"What's wrong?" asked Annabeth, taken aback by the man's and Heron's reactions.
He ignored her question as Heron slowly raised his head to look straight at Chiron with a serious gaze that spoke volumes about what just happened a few seconds ago.
"Chiron I want you to get that box as far away from this camp as possible and seal it away," he demanded with no room for argument. "Now."
"Way ahead of you, brat." The man in the Hawaiian shirt snapped his fingers, and the shoe box vanished.
"Heron, I would like you to meet the Camp Activities Director, Mr. D." Chiron gestured to the second man, who looked bored.
"Right, welcome to camp and all that. Now, don't expect me to be glad to see you." He said it lazily as he took a sip of his Diet Coke before continuing to read a newspaper.
"It's a very impolite way to greet someone." Heron shot back, It's not only that your closest buddy is a stalker; he's also a wine god's sexual predator. And Heron gave Annabeth a quick but weary glance. "Although I'm surprised Grover here hasn't tried to seduce you yet."
Lowering the new paper he was reading, Mr. D leaned forward in his chair and shot Heron an icy glare as the teen in question stared back, without a shred of fear, at the man sitting on the end of the table.
"I'd be careful about who you talk to, kid."
"Oh, I am careful who I talk to. However, you are the fattest camp activities director I have seen, but one who knows magic, no less," said Heron bluntly.
The centaur turned to face Annabeth and murmured, "Thanks for bringing him, Annabeth." Annabeth nodded and offered Chiron a little smile before turning to go.
Heron watched her go before looking at Chiron, Mr. D, and Grover and sighed. "Okay, so far, I'm in a camp with flying pegasi, got attacked last night by the result of a woman getting plowed by a bull, and lastly, fighting an abomination of Persian mythology. Is that about right?" he asked. Chiron and Grover nodded while Mr. D belched.
"Okay, give it to me straight. Don't give me some confusing version; I can handle the truth."
"Well, you obviously noticed you aren't normal, Heron." Chiron said, and Heron resisted the urge to snort. That was an understatement, considering that his father is the king of the ten realms. "You are actually a half-blood, or a demigod, to be more exact."
"The gods, the Greek gods, are still very much alive and are real. They moved from country to country over time and have now ended up here, in America. Over the centuries, they've come down to earth and said, "
"Have sex because they can't keep it in their pants?" Heron joked, getting chuckles from all around, even Mr. D.
"That'd be a way of describing my father," Mr. D murmured, but Heron's sharp ears heard it all but didn't show it.
"So what's the camp for?" Heron asked.
"Well, as you said, the gods sleep with mortals, and demigods are born from it. This camp is a place for them to be safe and train to fight monsters, such as the Minotaur and the manticore that you and Percy fought last night." Chiron explained. "Over time, a quest is issued, but there hasn't been a quest for some time now."
"Though, something tells me you are no ordinary demigod." Chiron said this with a pointed look at Heron.
Heron sat back down in silence, soaking it all in. It all made sense to him. His mother's absence from his existence made sense now; she was an Olympian goddess. Wait, if his dad is a god of order, then it would make him a genuine deity. No. No. It cannot be true. It just can't. He still bleeds like any other normal human being. His blood is red, not golden. He could still feel pain. Yes, he possessed superhuman strength, speed, and the ability to wield lightning, but this came from his father's side. But revealing that his mother was a Greek goddess is like saying you are the descendant of the great celestial drake, Dracothion. He then paused for a moment.
For the first time in his life, Heron was faced with the single most sensitive subject of all time.
First contact with another pantheon.
Throughout Terra's history, numerous other pantheons, including the Norse, Hindu, Buddhist, Shinto, Egyptian, African, Celtic, Slavic, Christian, Persian, and others, formed alliances with his father to preserve and extend their own territories.
Thanks to Mallus Secundes and the mortal realms, most of these gods could rest a little easier; however, there were some serious concessions they had to agree to.
First of all, they have to stay in their original domains on Terra.
Secondly, they have to use their godly powers to benefit nature and humanity.
Thirdly, they would swear to help each other in times of need.
It was thanks to them, so they wouldn't fade away and support his war against the forces of the old night.
Thinking fast, Heron decided that he had to improvise until someone more qualified could take over.
"You're right. I'm not an ordinary 'demigod,' as you called me. The reason I can fight back is because 'he' trained me."
Chiron raised an eyebrow at the cryptic statement. "Who trained you?"
"Cipher."
Once those words came out of his mouth, thunder cracked violently in the distance, as if the very word was the cause of much pain. Mr. D looked up from his newspaper with a serious expression that spoke barely a whisper: "What did you say?"
Swallowing his own spittle like a bitter pill. Heron repeated what he said, "Cipher. I was trained by Cipher, the god who defied all the gods of Olympus."
The silence on the porch was almost deafening for everyone on the porch. Grover was three times paler than usual while Mr. D tore the newspaper in half, his face red in anger and his eyes subtly glowing purple. Chiron slightly slumped into his wheelchair.
"Heron, do you know how significant that name is?"
Heron said without pauses, "If you mean all the times that Cipher called down the reckoning on Olympus to bring back hope and peace, to restore faith in humanity to live forever, to bring down dark regimes, and to unleash eternal potential, to lead us to order within us all, so yes, I know how important that name is."
"Hope and peace! scoffed Mr. D as he sat up to look at brown-haired properly. "And tell me, Heron Hammer, what 'cipher' has done for the past million years." Mr. D continued," Hmm? Nothing. Cipher is nothing but a herald of evil, bringing with him only death and destruction. That's what. Oh, I love mortals—they have absolutely no sense of perspective. They think they've come so far."
"Damn, with a response like that, you'd think you've been around for a while," interrupted Heron, causing the man to turn around and face the teen, who narrowed his eyes. Unless you have been around for a while."
Mr. D narrowed his own eyes as the young teen continued, "Also, interesting sentence there, calling humanity 'mortals. But most of all, that's quite a long grudge."
"That's an understatement." Mr. D spoke in a serious tone. "Cipher has been a thorn in Olympus' ass for ages, since the struggle between the six Olympians and the Titans. If Cipher had not freed the titan, Prometheus would have received his retribution for stealing the sacred fire and giving it to humanity. If it weren't for the cipher, the Olympians would be sleeping much more comfortably. I must admit, I never anticipated that pain in the ass to return. I only know that he vanished thousands of years ago, in the late seventeenth century. Now I am puzzled as to why he opted to train you."
"I would want to know myself, except that his life is always veiled in mystery and kept at a good distance from everyone else," stated Heron.
"Perhaps it has to do with my mother, but I don't know much except that her life as a goddess kept her away."
"That's the Ancient Laws; the gods are forbidden from raising their children," Chiron explained. "We won't know who your mother is until she claims you, which could be at any given moment."
Mr. D summoned wine into a glass and was about to take a sip when Chiron warned him,Mr. D, your restrictions." Mr. D sighed and changed the wine to Diet Coke.
"Father loves punishing me."
"You're Dionysus, aren't you? The god of wine and son of Zeus." Heron said, getting an impressed look from the Olympian.
"Indeed, it's nice to see not all demigods are idiots."
"Mr. D offended his father a while back." Chiron provided the young demigod with some background information, which caused Heron to focus on his teacher rather than the scene in front of him: "He took a liking to a wood nymph who had been declared off-limits."
"Yes," Mr. D admitted. "Father loved to chastise me. The first occasion was Prohibition. Ghastly! The past ten years have been absolutely horrible! The second time—well, she was incredibly attractive, and I couldn't stay away—he sent me here. Camp Half-Blood Summer Camp is for brats like yourself. "Be a better influence," he advised me. "Work with youths instead of tearing them down." Ha! Totally unfair."
And like that, M.D.'s respect for him vanished.
Heron grinned, shaking his head. "It's ironic. The God of Wine, not to create any, all because you had your eyes on a wood nymph that your dad had a crush on."
Mr. D scowled at the brownish-black adolescent, but before he could say anything Chiron steps in. "Grover, why not show Heron the camp? Probably keen to see what's around." Chiron suggested.
"Sure." Grover said, getting up and motioning for Heron to follow."
"It's nice meeting you, Chiron, Trainer of Heroes," Heron said as he left a smile on Chiron's face.
For Heron, though, he could only express a hidden sadness deep down, a sadness of knowing the truth of what his past students had done.
Grover was showing Heron around the camp. When they passed the volleyball pit, Heron could hear the other campers whispering about Percy defeating the Minotaur and him fighting Manticore in single combat last night.
After that, they walked through the strawberry fields, where campers were picking up bushels of berries while a satyr played a tune on a reed pipe.
After that, they ended up at the archery range, where they saw the sons and daughters of Apollo practicing. The thought of archery would send a thrill through his sword sister, as she had done it before and felt like she was a natural at it.
They passed the Pegasus stables, and Heron saw someone familiar there. A raven-haired girl dressed in the camp's t-shirt, but instead of a skirt or jeans, she wore black shorts that really showed off her legs.
Heron wanted to go over and speak to her, but Grover grabbed his arm. "Come on, more to see."
With a grunt of frustration, Heron trailed after, but not before giving the girl one more look. They ultimately arrived at a location where twelve cottages were visible. They were arranged in a U shape, with two at the base and five on either side. They were, without a doubt, the oddest collection of structures he had ever seen. Except for the fact that each had a large number above the door, odds on the left side, and evens on the right, they looked absolutely nothing alike.
Number nine had smokestacks, like a tiny factory. Number Fur had tomato vines on the walls and a roof made out of real grass.
Seven seemed to be made out of solid gold, which gleamed so much in the sunlight that it was impossible to look at. If a dwarf came by, he would immediately rip the thing apart and complain about how fragile it is and that gold shouldn't be used like that because it
Ten h-OH GOOD GODS NO!
"What good, Lord! Why is that cabin pink?" Heron cried out in horror.
Grover followed where Herons was pointing to a wooden cabin with a painted pink roof, pillars, a checkerboard deck with steps, and pink walls. It also has a pink door and potted carnations by the window. It also smells heavily of designer perfume.
"Ah, that... is the Aphrodite's cabin." Grover said with a snort of amusement at Heron's reaction.
"I can see that. Why is it so...pink?!"
Grover shrugged his shoulders. "I have no idea. Perhaps pink is Aphrodite's favorite color," he said sheepishly.
"No sh*t, Sherlock."
They all faced a common area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with Greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops.
In the center of the field was a huge, stone-lined firepit. Even though it was a warm afternoon, the heath smoldered. A girl about nine years old was tending the flames, poking the coals with a stick.
"These are the cabins that represent the Olympians." Grover said as he gestured to them.
Heron looked at the cabins over, his gaze coming to Cabins 1 and 2. They all looked like his-and-hers mausoleums, big white marble boxes with heavy columns in front.
Cabin one was the biggest and bulkiest of the twelve. Its polished bronze doors shimmered like a hologram, so that from different angles, lighting bolts seemed to streak across them.
Cabin two was somehow more graceful, with slimmer columns garlanded with pomegranates and flowers. The walls were carved with images of peacocks.
"Let me guess, Zeus and Hera?" Heron asked, and Grover nodded.
"Yeah, Hera's is there as an honorary thing, seeing as she's the goddess of marriage and cannot have affairs with mortals, so she can't have children, just like Artemis and her oath. Her cabin's there." Grover said, gesturing to another cabin called cabin eight. It was silver in color with the symbol of a crescent moon on the door, along with images of animals such as stages and wolves. "Her cabin is there for when her hunters come to camp."
Heron approached the cabin to get a better look. He didn't know how to explain it. He was about to touch the door when Grover stopped him.
"I wouldn't. Lady Artemis hates men; she'll kill you if you touch her door, even her hunters. They're just as dangerous when angry." Grover explained.
Like the daughters of Artemis. Well, he shouldn't be surprised. The Daughters of Artemis, also called the huntresses of Artemis, was always extreme in hating males.
In the beginning, though, the cult favored hunting camps set deep in the woods or near places sacred to Artemis. Occasionally, these camps became larger settlements, most notable among them being the original home of Huntress village on the island of Chioses and the village of Lemia in Talis.
Unlike today, however, the Daughters used to favor staying out of the wars of the outside world and sticking to their settlements and the wilderness. However, they were harassing the common folk, usually by releasing the latter's animals, but also threatening those who hunted in 'their' forests.
They also sometimes disturbed religious practices or downright destroyed statues and shrines. It got so bad that some of the city states, belonging to the Religious States, began burning down their settlements. It wasn't until Iskander the Great did the hunts stop and levitate a tribal society of female warriors into a religious cult.
Today the Daughters of Artemis provides the best scouts and trackers for the armies of the Acheronian city states. Gaining considerable influence over the years.
"Remind me not to piss them off should I meet the huntresses," said Heron sarcastically, causing Grover to chuckle.
"So where are the other cabins for the other Greek gods?"
"There aren't any." Grover answered him. "Demigods that aren't claimed stay in cabin 11 because Hermes is the god of the travelers, so they all stay there until they are claimed."
And thieves, Heron thought as he held his hammer and stroked the flat end. As he inspected the congested cabin, he couldn't help but criticize the Olympians for neglecting the youngsters, who were derived from lesser Greek gods. At least give them a cabin of their own so they can be at very least recognized as gods.
" Still, why there's no Hades or Hesta's cabin." Heron said with a frown. "Aren't they eldest of the Olympians?"
"Well, Hades isn't exactly welcomed on Olympus, and Hestia... most tend to forget her." said Grover, lamenting the simple fact that Hestia was omitted.
That would explain why there were only 12 cabins; there were only 12 Olympians on Mount Olympus, with the exception of Hades, who was the king of the underworld, and Hestia, who gave up her seat to avoid civil war when Dionysus ascended to godhood.
He remembered his father saying, "She loved me," so that meant his godly parent is female, so based on the cabins here, Heron might be able to find it who she is. And if he had to guess, since Heron has a bit of his mother in him, he would more than likely share some qualities with her.
"Well, that's it, man. That's everything." Grover said.
"I think I'll stick around for a bit; maybe I'll meet some people." Heron said, and Grover nodded before walking away as Heron took a walk, watching the other demigods train or do other activations.
"Hey, let go!"
Heron turned around at the female voice and looked over at the strawberry field to see two boys running from a girl who was sending death threats to the two. Heron saw that the boys had strawberries in their hands and were laughing.
Heron narrowed his eyes as the boys stopped and used their height to make the girl basically piggie in the middle. Heron walked over and stood behind the boys with a death glare.
"Is there a problem here?" He asked coldly, and it made the two boys and the girl look at him. The boys must've been about 15 while the girl was either 12 or 11 years old, and she had dark brown hair.
"Get lost, punk!" The youth shouted and attempted to shove Heron, but the guy was quickly knocked down. The child's final memory was Heron's shoe bottom smacking into his face, leaving a mark on his cheek. Heron stood still, arms folded and head held high, watching the other boy.
"I'm not in good shape right now. Take your friend and leave." Heron said it coldly.
"Basterd!"
Heron raised a single eyebrow. "A bastard, am I? If I'm a basterd, then you and your companion are a cowardly pile of dog shit."
That seemed to set the bully off as he sprang for a punch, but Heron easily grabbed the bully's arm and threw him over his shoulder. When the bully's back was to the ground, Heron knocked him out with a single brutal stomp into his face. It sent the strawberry basket into the air. Heron seized the basket and, with agility, loaded all of the strawberries into it before they reached the ground. Heron went over the moaning lads and gave the basket to the girl.
"Here," he said softly, and she took it with a smile.
"Thank you," the girl said. "Aries' kids are always like that."
So they're the sons of the God of War, huh? Not surprising. Ares was always the most bloodthirsty, Heron thought to himself as he smiled at the girl.
"Well, if they do that again, tell me, and I'll deal with them,"
"Katie Gardener, daughter of Demeter," the girl introduced herself.
"Heron Hammer, son of unknowns, just know." Heron smiled.
"Well, I'm sure you'll be claimed soon." Katie reassured him. "Anyway, I gotta go. Thanks for helping me."
"Anytime kid." Heron said and walked away, with his hands in his pockets, wanting to see more of what this camp has to offer.
For several hours thereafter, Heron surveyed the camp, making sure he knew where everything was. He must admit that this is the least impressive camp he has ever been to.
When he walked down to the shore, a number of water nymphs tried to flirt with him, but Heron just ignored them and kept a safe distance before making his quick getaway, leaving the nymphs a bit let down.
Heron returned to the location where Sally Jackson died and investigated everything. He discovered all of the battle's evidence—the broken trees, Gabe's destroyed Camaro, the minotaurs' massive hooves, and the manticore paw tracks—everything.
Unfortunately, Heron couldn't find his sword, which had broken during the battle with Manticore.
All except one were missing. Human blood and a corpse.
A spark of hope ignited within Heron as he came to one conclusion. Percy's mother wasn't dead; she was still among the living.
As the sun began to set among the camp, he walked up onto the hill and sat underneath the giant tree to watch the sun begin to set. The orange and yellow colors from the sunset lit the camp in a beautiful light and reflected and glimmered on the lake and rivers.
It was then that a conch horn bellowed out in the distance.
"Here you are, Heron."
With a horse's body from the waist down, the teenager snapped his head around to see Chiron 'galloping' at him. Heron was so impressed that he had to give a whistle. Heron could clearly see old wounds from bladed weapons from various places on his horse half. No doubt from training past heroes and fighting in battles.
"I trust Grover gave you the tour." Chiron asked.
"Forget about the tour; what was that horn earlier? Did something happen? Are we being attacked?"
Heron's line of questioning took Chiron off guard for a moment.
The boy should have given Chiron a nod of agreement, but instead he had both his warhammer and gun out, and his eyes were filled with lust for blood and of a killer. It was a hardened expression from a full-grown adult who had gone through unimaginable hell.
The old teacher thought of heroes of old who had once been his students thousands of years ago and had eyes that looked just like those he was staring into right now. His appearance made the centaur wonder what type of life Heron was leading behind his back to be this way.
"Nothing had happened, my boy. The horn that rang alerted the other campers to dinner being served. We are heading over to the dining pavilion. That's where Mr. D will introduce you to everyone."
"Why?"
"You and Percy have caused quite the stir, and many are interested in meeting you."
"Oh."
Heron hastily put his bolt pistol and warhammer away, embarrassed at having responded to a false alert. He gave Chiron a sheepish expression, similar to that of a toddler caught with his hand in a cookie jar.
After the incident, Chiron and Heron made their way down the hill toward the pavilion. They had to cross the river and pass all the cabins before we got to the dining area. As they neared the giant outdoor dining pavilion, which they could both see and hear, it was already filled with all the campers. Heron could hear people talking, laughing, burping, and even having a few playful arguments.
"So Grover mentioned I would be residing at the Hermes cabin," Heron said, striking up a conversation with the centaur.
"That's correct. It's where all the unclaimed demigods go since Lord Hermes is happy to look after those who are unclaimed, which makes him a favorite and well-respected member of the twelve Olympians."
"I'm not surprised; Grover did say that guy is the god of travelers after all, but that doesn't explain why you have to wait to be claimed."
Chiron had a sad and shameful look cross his face. "Aahh, will it vary? Some get claimed straight away, some may take a few months, some a few years, but unfortunately, a few never get claimed."
It was then that Heron stopped in his tracks all of a sudden as he turned to look the centaur in the eye. "What do you mean, not get claimed?"
"Not all demigods are recognized by their godly parents and are simply forgotten about over time."
"So you're saying that the reason this camp was built is to protect their children if they're worth anything?" He surprised Heron, his rage boiling within his chest.
"That's cruel. Why even have them if you're not going to claim them? Do they even love the children they brought into this world?"
"Well, my dear boy, that is a question I think many in Camp Half-Blood want answered. But in my experience, it's best not to ask. The gods can be very 'temperamental' when they want to be."
"You mean 'tyrannical'?" Heron corrected the trainer of heroes, "Consumed by their own hubris and arrogance, just like their predecessors."
That seemed to shut the centaur up as the two lapsed into a quick silence before Heron asked another question.
"May I ask why Hestia does not have an honorary cabin while Hera does?" he asked.
"According to what I've learned, Hestia is the virgin goddess of the hearth and family. Furthermore, she is one of the few gods that people genuinely admire. Not to mention, she is one of the first and eldest of the Olympian gods. Doesn't she deserve a cabin named after her, too?"
Chiron breathed out a sigh. "Well, to be honest, it's a real shame. Yes, Lady Hestia was one of the twelve Olympians at one time, but Dionysus' presence caused quite a disturbance. When she saw how rapidly the situation was spiraling out of control and that a dispute was imminent, she willingly gave up her seat to him. Humans, on the other hand, have forgotten about her over time. Even her family hardly sees her these days."
They arrived at the dining pavilion, but before Heron headed in, Chiron stopped him and said, "Mr. D will introduce you. Don't worry, and relax. Act... like you usually do!" Chiron said it with a smile.
After giving one back to Chiron, Heron took a deep breath and went inside.
The pavilion had twelve tables; each table had a white cloth with purple trim over it, and all of them were arranged according to the cabins outside. In the center was a large bronze brazier; it was about the size of a bathtub, and the fire looked to be on the verge of breaking out of its bronze container.
When he and Chiron walked in, the commotion seemed to stop, and all eyes turned to Heron as he entered the pavilion. All of the campers started to whisper amongst themselves while their eyes could look at Heron for a moment before they went back to whoever they were talking to.
Heron also counted, when he walked in, how many campers there were. There must have been around two hundred, all varying in age. He noticed that some of the tables were empty, which was odd considering one table looked overcrowded with campers.
His guess was that they were seated by the cabin, making him conclude that the empty tables belonged to Zeus and Hera, while the Artemis table was for her huntresses. Which, in Heron's opinion, looked like a complete waste of space.
One table made Heron blush slightly when he saw that all the kids sitting at the table were incredibly beautiful. The girls, even the boys, were the definition of beauty. However, some of them wore too much make-up for his liking.
At another table, he saw Annabeth sitting with a group that all had similar features as her: blonde hair and tanned skin with gray eyes. She spotted him looking over and waved, and he returned with a small bow.
He saw Grover sitting at table twelve with Mr. D, a few satyrs, and a couple of plump blonde boys who looked just like Mr. D.
"Luke, could you come over here for a second?" Chiron called out, which made one of the boys from the cramped table walk over. The boy was older than everyone else Heron had seen so far, around nineteen at most. He had sandy blonde hair with light blue eyes, very elfish-like features, and a pointy face.
The most notable feature was a long white scar that went down his right cheek. This would seem to indicate that he is a skilled warrior; nonetheless, there was something strange about him.
Heron couldn't put his finger on it, but there was a hidden darkness within those light blue eyes, one that was familiar and unfamiliar to him all too well. He'll have to keep a close eye on this one.
"Luke, this is Heron Hammer, one of the new campers who arrived last night. I'll leave him with you." Chiron said that before he trotted over to where Mr. D was sitting.
"Well, nice to meet Heron. I'm Luke, son of Hermes and the head of the Hermes cabin." Luke greeted.
"It's a pleasure to meet you too," he said, shaking Luke's hand.
"Make room, guys," Luke said as they arrived at the table, causing everyone at the table to shift a little as Heron sat next to Luke. Unhooking Soul-Drinker from his belt, Heron put him gently on the ground near him.
He saw Grover sitting at table twelve with Mr. D, a few satyrs, and a couple of plump blonde boys who looked just like Mr. D. Chiron stood to one side, the picnic table being too small for him.
A second later, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, and everyone went silent. He raised a glass. "To the gods!"
Everybody raised their glasses. "To the gods!"
Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese bread, and barbecue. Heron's stomach growled in glee, being used to eating at great feasts at the start or end of a battle. Hell. It brings back good memories.
"Speak to it." Luke instructed Whatever you want—non-alcoholic, of course."
Damn. He could really go for good Dwarven ale right about now, but that doesn't mean he could go for a good soda. Heron said, "Diet Pepsi!" Sure enough, the liquid filled his glass. He took a sip, sighing in contentment. The drink wasn't Bolgan's finest or Bugman's XXXXXXXX, but it'll have to do.
He looked down at the food in front of him, all of it being steak, ribs, and some vegetables. Heron was about to take a bite out of it when the camper next to him elbowed him. He looked at him, and the boy gestured with his head to the brazier in the center of the pavilion.
"You need to give a portion of your food to the gods." He then got up to dump some of his food into the fire.
"Well, I guess they like the bones." Heron whispered to himself.
He carefully carved up the steak and the ribs, giving himself the best parts of himself while taking out the bones and fat for the gods. If the gods want the good parts of his dinner, then they have to earn it. Heron stood up with his plate and got in line to dump the bones and fat into the fire.
Luke approached the fire, bowed his head, and tossed the cluster of red grapes into the fire.
"Hermes," he uttered before turning away and letting Heron do the same.
The son of Azyr stepped up and took a moment to think of a name, as two came to mind. First, for the red of the Olympian gods, he slid off the bones and fat into the fire without saying a word. Keeping with Greek ritual tradition and all. But for his mother, though, he decided to give her the best part of his food.
He then said, "Hestia," and then threw a piece of his BBQ into the fire. The smoke from the fire smelled like chocolate, fresh-baked cookies, wildflowers, burgers on the grill, and a million other wonderful things. What was even stranger was that the hearth burned more brightly, and there was a glow coming from it, as if pleased with his offering.
When he sat back down, he started to eat his food in silence while Luke was talking with the other campers at our table. After everyone finished eating, Mr. D reluctantly spoke up in a bored tone.
"As you brats all know, we have two new campers joining us today; unfortunately, one of them is still unconscious and healing in the big house. So this one will have to do."
"Personally, I couldn't care less about them," continued Mr. D. "But keeping with camp 'tradition,' I'll say his name anyway. Heron Hammer."
Heron stood up and waited as all eyes went to him, clearing his vocal cords for a second. Heron spoke in a strong, clear voice so everyone in the pavilion could hear him clearly.
"Like Dionysus said, my name is Heron." Many of the other campers looked at him in surprise when Heron said Mr. D's full name. Doing so actually caused the director to narrow his eyes. "And apparently one of my parents is a god. Who knew?"
There were a few chuckles before everyone settled back down. He realized that Aphrodite's table was staring at him as he turned to glance around the room. The males at the table also appeared to be wearing makeup, but to a lesser degree than the girls. His natural instinct was screaming warnings because he spotted a sparkle in the girl's eyes that sent shivers down his spine. However, out of all the girls sitting at that table, there was only one he laid eyes on.
It was that girl, the one with the raven hair, who made Heron's breath catch in his throat again. She was quite beautiful, and she would undoubtedly grow up to be a stunning woman. He was staring at her as she turned to face him, and she blushed a little before waving and grinning. Unknowingly following suit, Heron made the girl's sisters chuckle before they carried on eating.
"Come on, Romeo." Two pairs of arms grabbed his, and Heron looked to see Luke and a camper, another son of Hermes, lead him down to his seat. "You can flirt with the hot chick tomorrow."
"Who is that girl?"
"Oh her, that would be Silena Beauregard. She's the daughter of Aphrodite and the one that helped you to the medical wing." Luke explained.
Heron felt a rush of curiosity mixed with embarrassment. "So she's a daughter of the goddess of love, huh?" He mused, glancing back at Silena, who was laughing with her friends, her aura radiating confidence and charm. "I guess I have my work cut out for me."
Chiron suddenly made an announcement. "I'm sure you all have been wondering whether the rumor about them defeating the Minotaur and Manticore was true. Well, I'm here to clarify that it is indeed true." The crowd erupted into a mix of awe and excitement, whispers rippling through the gathered campers. "Not only that," Chiron continued, his eyes gleaming with pride, "he also displayed incredible bravery and skill that saved the life of his fellow demigod so we are glad that he is with us. Now he has recovered he will now introduce himself. " Chiron finished then nodded to him to take it away.
Heron stood up and waited as all eyes went to him. "My name is Heron Hammer, and apparently one of my parents is a god...who knew." A few snickers went up before they quieted themselves down. "And if anyone has any lingering doubts, ask M.D. He has the proof if he is willing to show it, that is."
This caused many to begin whispering again before Mr. D gave them a look that quickly shut them up. He snapped his fingers, and the shoebox containing the minotaur horn and the manticore's stinger appeared in front of him. Since Percy was not present, Heron opened it, and several people gasped somewhat upon seeing the horn and stinger, realizing now that it was indeed true. Many at the Hermes table were in awe of it, and Heron saw that some of the large, burly children seated at another table were staring at him with a hint of jealousy.
After everyone finished, they all headed down to the amphitheater, where the children of Apollo were singing different versions of songs, some other campers were eating marshmallows, and some were chatting and having a fantastic time. Heron felt like he could finally calm down and forget about the horrible things he had seen.
He could let down his guard without worrying about being killed in his sleep.
For the first time in his life, he felt all his worries wash away.
Finally Heron had made it camp-half blood and this where two world are slowly colliding. At the same time ghost of the past will come crawling to haunt the Olympians but will not only be the titans but from individuals who they have wronged.
TalkativeLurker: No kidding, Heron had been Beastmen for quite some time now so yeah. As for the Skaven that's half true but I'm not going to spoil any more surprise's alright.
The Disquieting One: I'm keeping cannon no doubt about it but will diverge over time.
IvanFabulous: Zagreus and his sister Mellione do have important duties on Mallus Secundes. They'll have play part in later chapter but they'll apperance.
Guest: It's going to be one hell of a surprise for the greek pantheon. Unfortunately because of their isolation they have grown quite weak so there's large a power difference between the greeks and Warhammer gods.
So next will be Heron's friends as they will get a surprising encounter on their mission.
So ya next time.