Getting back on the street was a lot of work, considering the pain in his very likely sprained ankle, making him refrain from putting any weight on it. Quite frankly, it sucked. But he was very happy to have some distance between him and the water, as well as being back on an actual way, even if he could already see that it led upwards in a good five hundred metres. Until he would be there, it would take a while, even if he preferred to be faster since night was approaching, no matter if it was summer or not. Monsters would find him even quicker at night and he didn't have any place to hide in.

Taking step by step, Reg slowly limped towards the East. Since there hadn't been any cars in the past, what? Hours? He didn't even bother walking next to the pavement, instead taking up space on the right side of the street. The middle was too risky in case a car would surprise him. In his current state, Regulus didn't trust himself to be able to get off the road quickly enough if he'd walk in the middle of it. Still not sure about time, but very certain that it felt an eternity for him to get to the hill where the road led upwards, Regulus decided to just stand by the foot of it for a moment. That had been a lot of work. He was hot, sweat dampening his arm pits and rolling down his forehead in tiny water droplets, causing the boy to develop a strong thirst for water. The air tasted like salt, as if it was a cruel reminder that he couldn't drink from the only water source nearby he knew of.

"Come on Reg, you can do this," the curly-head muttered to himself rather sarcastically than enthusiastically. Lifting his head, Regulus looked up at the way ahead of him, not very excited at the thought of having to limp all the way over the hill. If he'd only had a walking stick... If only he was a child of Venus with the ability to attract things to a specific limit... Letting his eyes wander over the grass nearby, he looked for something, until- "Yes!"

There, just five metres away from him, he spotted a stick in the right length and form for him to use while walking. Slowly, he stumbled towards the piece of wood and picked it up, sighing in relief when he finally had something to hold onto. This would make his journey at least a little easier. Now it was time to start the project walking up the hill. He couldn't wait. (Cough.)

Frankly, it sucked. Awfully. He wanted a refund. With every step, his ankle started to hurt worse, no matter how much he put his weight on the walking stick instead of his right leg. Every step was like torture. Honestly, even fighting against Dorcas was a piece of cake compared to this. Regulus wanted to so badly flop down on the grass, preferably get absorbed by the earth and never resurface ever again. Maybe that would stop the pain in his ankle and his knees – the dried blood on the healing wound plus constantly moving his feet through walking did not do him well. Or maybe if he wished hard enough, if he tried going over the limit of his powers and attracted Venus to help him somehow, that'd be great. Perhaps she could bring him some nectar or ambrosia. Oh, he'd love that. But of course, a god only appeared in Camp Jupiter once every century so that option was so unrealistic. Sadly.

Too busy with complaining dramatically in his mind, Regulus didn't even notice he'd arrived at the top of the hill. The road led back down the hill, but on his right, he couldn't believe his eyes. Was what he saw really real? He could spot a big, blue house downhill, not too far from a volleyball court, both situated next to a big field with red fruit- no, berries. Possibly strawberries? Or were those raspberries? From this distance, it was hard to tell. Even closer to Regulus was something looking suspiciously like an amphitheatre with a big campfire in front of it. Do summer camps usually have amphitheatres?

"Who the fuck cares?" the curly-head grumbled to himself, way too exhausted to keep up his closed-up composure. And no one could see him anyways, so he could be as grumpy as he desired. Without even having to think twice, Regulus turned to climb down the hill on the side of the camp he'd found, losing his concentration faster as the seconds raced by. Sometime between where started going downhill and the foot of the hill, he accidentally put all his weight on his right foot, too tired to think straight. Next thing he heard was someone screaming, it sounded as if they were in agony. Only after a moment, Reg realised, it was him who was yelling. It was him, who was in agony. It was him, who was skittering down the hill. It was him, who was losing his consciousness as a few teenagers ran over to him to help.

Just seconds later, he opened his eyes again and the first thing he saw was the ceiling of some room. He assumed the ceiling had a white colour, though the slightly orange evening light pouring into the room through a window by his left painted it in a warm tone. Turning his head to the right instead, Regulus was shocked to find a boy looking just like him but with a little longer curls and a smeared eyeliner staring at him from their bed. Wait, no- The boy's eyes were closed, presumably asleep. But why did he look so familiar? Outside of seeming like a more emo version of himself, of course. Slowly sitting up, he tried getting a better look at the stranger, but he couldn't even get to it, since someone entered the room he found himself in.

"Oh good, you're awake." A boy's voice – deep, but sounding a little like he's still going through his voice break – interrupted Regulus' train of thoughts, though he didn't turn his head to look at who was speaking to him.

"I'm James. Are you feeling alright? I gave you some nectar earlier, your ankle should be healed now," the boy walked closer to Reg, now entering his peripheral vision; a teenager at about his age – fifteen. Perhaps a year older, like Dorcas. His brown hair was a mess on top of his head and his round glasses slowly slipped off his nose as he tilted his head to the side. For some reason, the motion reminded Regulus of a curious deer.

Questions swirled through the curly-head's mind, making him wonder which one he should ask first. The decision didn't seem too hard, as the words slipped off his tongue without any fore-thought whatsoever. "Who is he?" A nod to the bed next to his own (well, not really his, but you get the deal) underlined his words, showing who he was talking about.

Regulus watched as the boy stood straight again, fixing his glasses to sit properly on his nose again. That way, with the dusk shining into the room, hitting the stranger's side profile and lighting up his face in a very flattering angle, it almost felt as if he was a god. In fact, if Regulus didn't know better, he'd say that boy in front of him was a god, maybe even Apollo himself.

But no god would ever present themselves like this; with the bright orange shirt worn backwards – Regulus could see the seam of the little label by his throat – and his shorts with a bunch of different stains that he didn't even want to know where they came from. That being said, any demigod Reg had ever met would be downright embarrassed if someone saw them like that, so neither a god nor a descendant of one.

Worried crinkles appeared above the brunet's nose, though he kept smiling optimistically, shoving his hands into his pockets as if he was trying to look casual. "He looks a little like you, doesn't he? Sirius is my best friend. He hit his head earlier; has been unconscious since."

Sirius.

Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius. Sirius.

Regulus heard himself speaking, but it sounded as if someone had put earmuffs over his ears. It felt as if his ears were blocked, any noise arriving dull in his brain. "Okay." That was all he managed to get past his lips.

There was no way that...No, he must be wrong. His brother was dead. No nine year old boy would survive the outside world. But- No. Reg couldn't let the thought consume his mind, couldn't let it start rolling. Because if it started rolling, it wouldn't stop.

"I didn't ask, what's your name?" James rescued him from his mind, making Regulus force himself to fully tear his gaze away from the one looking like him, looking like what his brother would've looked like at that age.

"It's Regulus," the curly-head replied, trying to sort his mind as he spoke. There were still questions he had, questions that had been shoved back somewhere into random drawers of his mind when this boy, Sirius, entered the picture. Finally, he could dig out a question – an important one, he felt a little dense for forgetting it. "Where am I?"

"You're at Camp Half-Blood. It's – in my opinion – the safest place for demigods like you and me," the boy turned around, showing the logo of said camp on his back- the actual front of his shirt. It showed a pegasus and right above the words "Camp Half-Blood" were spelt out in big letters. Underneath the pegasus, it read "Long Island Sound, NY".

Regulus frowned. "Demigods? What do you mean, 'Half-Blood'? I've never heard of this place."

"You know, children of the gods? If you weren't one, you couldn't have entered Camp Half-Blood. My dad's Apollo, that's also the reason why I have good healing skills. Do you know who your godly parent is?" James asked, now settling down on a wood chair next to a table by the wall. Just when Regulus was about to reply, his mouth already open, the brunet interrupted him. "Wait- no, don't tell me. Let me guess. Hermes? Ares, maybe? You have a similar aura to the people from the Ares cabin. Oh, or is it Athena? You look smart."

Even more questions piled in Regulus' mind, the confusion swirling through his head like a million tiny question marks. "Those- those are Greek gods."

Blinking, as if the confusion had infected him as well, James said, "Well, of course they are. What else would they be? Austrian? Wearing Lederhosn and Dirndlkleider?" He shook his head, a laugh escaping him as he presumably imagined the gods wearing Lederhosn and Dirndlkleider. It was one of the best sounds he'd ever heard, wrapping him in a warm blanket crocheted of rays of sunshine.

Then Regulus shook the feeling off, trying again to get a clear head. As soon as the space was free, a new thought formed. Connecting with information he'd heard ages ago, a myth Pandora had told him about when they were only 11.

"You know, I think there's more out there than just the roman gods we know," the girl mumbled, tucking a blonde strand that had escaped the beautiful wreath that Dorcas had braided with her hair earlier that day.

Regulus stuck his head out, trying to peek past the elephant they were walking with to look at his friend. "What do you mean?"

"My mum told me this story about ancestors of the Greek gods. I think they might actually exist. Just like the Egyptian gods, the Norse ones and whatever else there is. Wouldn't it be exciting? So many different gods, so many different demigods." Tilting her head to the sky, Pandora smiled. The dark–haired boy could barely see it, but he knew she did. Pandora was like that.

"I don't know," he replied at last. "Maybe. Maybe not. It could just be one of those myths that actually are myths and not reality."

Once again, Pandora was right. It shouldn't surprise him anymore. The Greek gods were real.

"Not Austrian, but..." Regulus glanced at his lower arm, the dark SPQR tattoo with the sign of Venus (a circle with a plus attached to the bottom) and six horizontal lines beneath – standing for six years at Camp Jupiter – standing out in contrast to his light skin.

Immediately following his eyes, James looked at the tattoo as well, curiosity lighting up in them. "What's that? If you don't mind me asking."

Unsure of how to respond to that, the curly-head muttered, "Nothing." What else should he have said? A mark from a camp for Roman demigods? That would just make the other suspicious. He didn't know how the boy in front of him would react, so it was better to say nothing until Regulus knew what to do next. "What happens now?"

"Well, Chiron wanted to speak to you. But I said I wouldn't let him if you weren't feeling up to it yet. Then you could rest until tomorrow before you get your introduction," James explained, giving Regulus a reassuring smile.

A bell ringed in his head at the name "Chiron", a memory of He-Who-Mustn't-Be-Named telling him stories from the Greeks that he'd learned at school. Greek mythology had always fascinated him, the one Regulus refused to think about told him once.

Chiron was one of Kronus' sons; he'd been trained by Apollo himself. After that, Apollo sent countless demigods for Chiron to educate and raise to become heroes. Something along those lines.

If one counted all that in, it sounded as if Chiron had a similar position in Camp Half-Blood as Lupa did in Camp Jupiter. "I want to talk to him," the curly-head blurted out, already getting up from the bed. "Where's my rucksack?"

Not even needing James to reply – who was sitting on the chair, looking a little perplexed at Regulus' sudden outburst – the boy grabbed his rucksack from the other side of the bed as he conscientiously ignored the existence of the one in the bed next to him. He had to keep shoving that piece of information to the back of his mind, preferably into a safe with a thousand locks.

"Okay so where can I find this Chiron guy?" the curly-head wondered, shouldering his rucksack as he mentally thanked the gods for nectar. His knees and ankle felt brand new, as if they'd never been hurt.

Finally reacting, James stood up. "He's waiting by the Big House, you might've seen it when you were on Half-Blood Hill. I can show you the way," the boy offered, holding out his arm in an inviting gesture to the only door in the room.

Nodding, Regulus took the chance and walked to the wooden door that had once been painted white. It must've been a while ago, considering the colour was almost fully peeled off. Just as he placed his hand on the door handle, James right behind him, sounds of someone groaning as if they were waking up interrupted their plans.

"My head is killing me," the voice complained. Immediately, Regulus turned his head, just fast enough to see his guide swivelling around to go see after his patient.

"Sirius!" James yelped, rushing to get to the bed. "Mate, you fucking scared me. Never do that again!"

Rubbing his forehead, the boy sat up, grumbling, "Tune it down, mate. I don't even know who you are, so I've already decided that I will in fact do again whatever I did."

Regulus might not be able to see James from the front, but the shock was clear to hear in his voice, even if he tried to hide it with a nervous laugh. "Good joke, Padfoot. I'm your best friend."

"You mean you wish you were my best friend. I surely would remember if you were," Sirius mumbled, rolling his eyes. Somehow, his words reminded Regulus painfully of his older brother. His brother that was dead for sure, the one laying in the bed right now couldn't be his brother, there was no way.

"I'm not too sure about that. Your head injury was pretty bad," James carefully admitted. "Do you remember when you first arrived at Camp Half-Blood?"

"Sure do, it was the spring after I turned nine. Those gorgons were being absolute bitches," the patient grumbled, looking offended at his own memory. Or was he pouting? Honestly, it didn't matter. The only thing that did matter to Regulus was the fact that this Sirius had arrived here when he was nine. Oh, someone should definitely stop his thoughts from existing.

"I'll just go by myself," the curly-head decided, not even waiting for James' reply that he was almost certain that probably wouldn't come anyways. He was too focused on his best friend seemingly having lost his memory.

As soon as Regulus stepped outside of the room, he landed in a big room full of beds by the walls. They had been painted in many colourful designs and the curly-head looked at them in awe whilst slowly walking towards what he presumed was the exit. Only when he arrived by the door, a girl's voice called out to him. "Hey, you're the guy that arrived at camp today, right? What's your name?"

The curly-head turned around to spot a bright blonde girl – probably around 17 years old – in one of the beds criss-crossed with a book on her lap. "I'm Regulus," he answered.

"Welcome to Camp Half-Blood then, Regulus. My name's Madeleine, but you can call me Maddie," the girl smiled widely at him, flashing her bright teeth. Regulus nodded in a thanking gesture, as she kept on talking. "Where did James go? I thought he went to check in on you."

"He's with this other guy, Sirius, I believe," the boy said. "He probably didn't even notice I left."

Maddie raised her eyebrows, though he couldn't tell if it was in curiosity or surprise. "Did he wake up, then? Sirius, I mean." She closed her book while talking, changing her position to letting her feet hang off her bed.

With a nod, Reg explained, "He doesn't remember James."

"No? That head injury must've been really bad. I can't tell though, I didn't really inherit any healing skills from my dad. I prefer poems and music. Gods, that sounds awfully like a cliche, I promise you I'm not that boring. I teach archery. It's really fun, you should try sometime," the young woman brabbled on, only to come to a halt when she realised she'd started doing so. "I'm sorry, I tend to talk too much. Feel free to interrupt me at any time. I assume you didn't leave the patient room to chat with me."

"Not really, I apologise. I wanted to go find Chiron," Regulus admitted.

Jumping off her bed – and making Regulus jealous that she could jump from a two metre height without spraining her ankle – Madeleine offered, "I can go with you, so you don't get lost."

"That would be kind, thanks," the boy said, trying to smile a little. While the young woman jogged over to him, Reg noticed a bunch of instruments systematically piled by the other side of the cabin.

Opening the door for Maddie, Regulus let her step outside first, then followed her. The sun had already set, instead purple and pink colours painted the sky to a magical picture. It also meant that it presumably was sometime between half past eight and nine in the evening. Excited chatter wavered over to them, making Regulus turn his head to see many children and young adults of various ages between seven and twenty gathering by the amphitheatre.

"The campfire is about to start, I'm actually supposed to be there. But so should Chiron and I can't spot him, so he's probably still at the Big House. Let's go," the blonde said, confidently walking through houses the same size as the one he'd been in, all decorated in their own unique way. She made her way towards the big house he'd – like James had said – already seen from the top of the hill. What did he call it? Half-Blood Hill?

The house had a wooden facade, painted in sky blue with old, dark red tiles and a big porch on which a centaurus was standing with his head high, but his forehead furrowed as he stared to Half-Blood hill with a distant look in his eyes.

"Chiron!" Maddie called out as they were almost at the house, turning his attention to them. "I've got the newcomer."

Chiron's forehead relaxed and he smiled at Regulus, seeming a little exhausted, before looking back at the young woman. "Thank you, Madeleine. I'm going to hold a little chat with-?" He threw a questioning glance at the boy, waiting for him to finish the sentence.

"Regulus, sir."

"With Regulus inside now, you can go to the others. Oh, wait- where is James? I thought I had asked him to take care of our newcomer," the centaurus asked, looking at Maddie.

Though, before she could say anything, Reg joined the conversation. "Uh- The guy, Sirius, was his name; he woke up. He couldn't remember James, which seemed to stress him a little, which is why I decided to go see you by myself, sir."

Frowning at the thought of the boy's memory loss, Chiron nodded. "Okay."

"I then noticed him when he was about to leave the Apollo cabin, so I offered to help him find you. Which I did," Maddie added to finish the story.

"Okay, thank you for your help, Madeleine. You may go now- if you don't have any more questions."

Shaking her head at the question disguised as a simple question, Maddie replied, "That's it. See you around, Regulus!" Smiling one last time at him, she saluted and then turned around, running towards the campfire.