Unfortunately, there were no handbooks on how to be a demigod, which made training absolutely miserable.
When I got to the arena, Percy was practicing sword fighting another camper that I recognized from the Athena cabin. The blonde boy couldn't have been older than fifteen. He was shorter, and a little less built than Percy was but he was good. Percy was better.
Wonder Boy looked like he was moving at lightning speed, countering and reversing every attack this kid could come up with. By the end of their fight, the Athena camper was panting violently and soaked in a pool of his own sweat.
"Good job, Malcolm." Percy clapped the guy on the back. Malcolm shook his head in disbelief before trudging off to the giggling wood Nymphs working the water station in a corner of the arena.
"I'm not going to be doing that, am I?" I laughed nervously, but Percy nodded.
"Pick up a sword, fresh meat," Percy cocked his head towards the armory.
All right. I could do that. Picking up a sword is easy enough, right?
Not really. (At this point in my life, I kind of stopped hoping for the best and began to expect the absolute worst).
The tricky thing with swords is you can't just have any sword you want. I thought Percy's sword, Riptide - which, in its natural state was a ballpoint pen that then transformed into a three foot long double edged celestial bronze sword - was pretty cool. He even let me hold it for a second, but I quickly regretted my decision. As it turns out, you have to have a balanced sword.
"You don't chose the sword, the sword chooses you," Percy said in his best Chiron voice. I would have laughed, if his thousand pound sword wasn't dragging me straight into the underworld.
After a couple of practice stabs and slashes at some straw-stuffed dummies with a celestial bronze 'kid sword,' Percy challenged me to a proper sword fight.
I fumbled with the awkward practice sword and shield given to me at the armory. The sword felt too long and the shield was twice the weight of my body.
My instructor gave me no time to adjust.
Percy lunged towards my chest with Riptide and I immediately felt my ADHD fighting skills kick in. My eyes were seeing everything in slow motion. I could see his eyes flicker between my body and the space behind me, debating where to strike. He was diving straight for my torso.
I blocked his advance and tried to elbow his chest. Percy was quick. He saw me coming from a mile away. His sword slashed at my arm, nearly leaving a gash in my skin, but I jumped back with a second to spare.
"Rule number one of sword-fighting, always keep your guard up. Don't trust your opponent, and stay one step ahead," he said, then make a move straight for my neck, but I dove out of the way before he could even get close to me.
I saw a flicker of mischief in his green eyes. He knew I was getting better at this. Naturally, he kicked it up a notch, coming at me quicker and with more force.
My senses began to awaken like I had taken a double shot of espresso. I countered his attacks with even more vigor and energy than before. I lunged, slashed, and finally put all my weight into the hilt of my sword as I used my other hand to grab Percy's weapon while he was distracted.
His own sword was in my hand, now centimeters from his heaving chest while mine was behind his head, ready to kill the enemy if they made any sudden movements. But this was Percy. My mind quickly shut off the weird survival mode trance I was in and I handed him back his sword.
"I-I, um...sorry. I don't know how I did all that," I sheepishly looked at the dirt floor of the arena and waited to be yelled at. I'd never done that before. Hell, I'd never even been in a fight before.
The sudden burst of energy had taken a toll on my body. My limbs felt like jello, my skin was covered in sweat, and my head was pulsing to the rhythm of my frantic heartbeat.
"Are you kidding? You're a natural! A little shabby, yeah. We could definitely work on your form but you killed it! Great job," Percy beamed. "Now come on, I'm going to give you a little crash course on magical weapons."
Percy asked to see the bow and arrow that I had no idea how to shoot.
Actually, I had never even properly looked at the weapon. The last thing on my mind was a piece of jewelry that shape shifted into a magical bow and arrow on command, considering the busy past couple of days I'd had.
I opened the locket and watched the necklace shimmer and swiftly transform into a bow and arrow once again.
The craftsmanship was beautiful. The bow was slender but elegant, and it seemed to be hand carved from a giant opal itself, changing colors in the radiant sunlight. I expected it to be heavy, but to my surprise the bow was pretty airy and light. It felt balanced in my hand, but it was also heavy enough to hold steadily while my left hand aimed and fired. The quiver was a stunning cross between a platinum and silver metallic color that shimmered in the sunlight to compliment the accents on my necklace. Inside were at least fifty platinum trimmed celestial bronze arrows.
Percy said the quiver, the bow, and the arrows were all magical items. Each time I shot an arrow, it would just reappear in my quiver, assuming I didn't hit my target. Then he explained that one shot would kill any monster or mythical creature but it wouldn't hurt a human.
"What about half-bloods?" I said, picking up an arrow to study the exquisite detail of the platinum trimmings.
Percy chewed on his lip and nodded grimly. "Yeah, we kind of got the short end of the stick. See, humans aren't important enough to be harmed by celestial bronze, but people like you and me? We can be harmed by both mortal weapons and magical weapons."
I decided not to ask any more questions.
Percy said Chiron would further instruct me on how to use a bow and arrow, but for now I needed to focus on combat. And that's exactly what we did.
Or at least tried to do.
Combat training started out basic. Easy. They were things even I could do. Lesson one: fighting with your hands. Using what you already have to your advantage, staying one step ahead and manipulating your opponent.
Percy taught me basic jabs, punches, high kicks, low kicks, dives, blocks, dodges; the works. But fighting was hard when I couldn't even punch right. Every time I even made the slightest attempt to hit or kick Percy he had already seen it, blocked it, and used my own move against me.
Quickly, I began to feel hopeless and defeated.
What was the point? I wasn't getting any better. At this rate I could expect to be fighting monsters decently by my fortieth birthday.
Percy must have sensed my defeat, because soon after he gave me full permission to punch him in the gut once. To demonstrate my strength or whatever. Truthfully, I bet the guy felt sorry for me, which only infuriated me even more.
"Make this count," Percy said. "Check your form, keep your fist tight."
'I'll show you, Wonder Boy.'
I stood back...examined my opponent, balled up my fist as tight as I could and BAM!
Ow. Ow. Ow. OW!
"Oh my...GODS!" I yelped in pain. It was like I had just hit a solid iron statue, or a metal plate. Not an eighteen year old's lower intestine.
"We've got some work to do," Percy mumbled.
We spent the rest of our morning jabbing, punching, kicking and I hated every second of it. Percy just kept pushing me harder and harder, but I had nothing to give to him in the first place.
By the end of our training session, I was completely drenched in sweat and gasping for any oxygen my lungs hadn't already sucked out of the atmosphere. Every inch of my body was battered, bruised and swollen. My skin was now a kaleidoscope of multicolored bruises.
Percy had managed to somehow work every muscle in my body, from my shoulders to the tips of my toes and he kicked my butt while doing it, too. For a son of Poseidon, the guy could fight. Hard. But the worst part was he wasn't even trying. This was child's play.
"Hey, good first day. Tomorrow, same time?" Wonder Boy had barely broken a sweat.
"Do I have a choice?" I rasped and flipped open the cap of my water bottle.
"Nope," he chirped, springing up from the bench where I would probably die in a couple hours later from heat exhaustion. Or internal bleeding. Maybe both. "but on the bright side, tomorrow I get to teach you how to ride a Pegasus."
"A what-asus?"
"See you later," Percy jogged off to teach his two o'clock combat lessons to a group of twelve year old kids.
It was the same routine he had taught me.
***
The Hermes cabin actually wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. No one had sprayed me with pee yet, so that was a good sign.
In only twenty four hours spent in cabin eleven, I had learned the basic ground rules for the children of Hermes. Not only were they the children of the god of messengers, pranksters and travelers, but he was also the patron god of thieves.
If it was out in the open, it was fair game. Unattended sleeping bags, toothbrushes, junk food, counterfeit cellphones, gum, candy, toys and any other valuable possessions a teenager could ever have, were all fair game in the eyes of a child of Hermes.
I quickly learned to adapt. The Hermes Cabin's motto was: Steal or be stolen from. I kept my sleeping bag rolled and tucked away underneath a creaky floorboard I had found the morning of my first training session. It was dusty, with a few cobwebs hanging here and there - but it was better than having a random kid pee in it, trade it for a piece of gum, or use it as a raft later.
My first night there Travis and Connor kept their word and told the entire cabin I was off-limits from any vandalism, theft, water gun fights, silly string attacks, or any other pranks until I was claimed. The cabin didn't even seem phased. Half of the kids didn't even care I was in there. I guess a lot of them were used to all kinds of strangers coming and going.
Cabin eleven was not where I belonged. It was just a deep rooted feeling I got in the middle of the night. As badly as I wanted to be a part of their big happy family, I didn't find myself caring much for raiding the other campers' belongings at two in the morning, or putting spiders in the Athena cabin, or giving Mr. D fake wine; frankly, it wasn't all that funny to me.
I also didn't particularly enjoy being under leadership. Travis and Connor Stoll were the Hermes cabin counselors, so basically the heads of the cabin. When they said lights out, everyone went to bed. When they woke up, everybody else had to wake up. The routine was incredibly irritating.
Meals weren't any better. Campers had to line up in the order of seniority for meals, so I was always dead last. I hated it. Not that it made a difference in the quality of the food. The pavilion was enchanted, meaning the amount of food never varied in quality and it was always abundant. I could have a gauntlet filled to the brim with Coke and it would never run out because the glass was enchanted to quench my thirst.
I couldn't shake the feeling that I was supposed to be in charge of something, anything. Cleaning duty, pine tree watch, cabin inspections - whatever. I was so used to controlling at least some aspects of my life. At my old school, I was president of Student-Council, Latin club, and Prom committee. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but I was the one in control and ever since I came to Camp Half-Blood, I wasn't in control of anything, not even my own life. It was driving me absolutely insane.
The rest of my day went by slowly. I decided to spend most of it on one of the docks overlooking the lake and mountains at camp. It was so different from the restless ocean and the palm trees I was used to seeing. I felt as if I was in a parallel universe.
My thoughts then drifted to my parents. It was the first time I'd thought of them since I first came to camp. I wondered what they were doing and whether or not they were thinking of me. I wanted to call them so badly, just to hear the sound of their voices, but Chiron advised us not to use phones unless absolutely necessary. They attracted monsters.
Then I thought of my father. What he was doing right now. Was he on Mount Olympus? Did he even know I was at camp? Did he care?
As if on cue, the call for dinner was made, snapping me out of my hypnotic state. I found myself practically sprinting for the pavilion.
It was exactly what it sounded like. A Greek pavilion, mess hall style.
The pavilion was made of six, white marble columns, with no roof or exterior walls, since the camp was able to block out any weather it didn't want to receive. The pavilion faced outwards, to overlook the beautiful sea that shimmered vibrantly even in the middle of the night. Inside the pavilion, there were eleven white marble tables in the center, shaped in a U exactly like the cabins. Sure enough, each cabin was assigned to sit with each other.
Off to the side sat other arrangements of what I assumed to be children of minor gods, nymphs, and satyrs like Grover and Danny.
At the head of the pavilion was a never ending lunch buffet with every kind of food you could imagine, from Chinese to Mexican to American traditional cuisine. My stomach was practically doing one eighties in my stomach.
Just as I had gotten to the mouth watering food in front of me, I felt a stiff, rough tap on my shoulder. If I didn't know any better, I would've bet money that it was one of the younger Hermes kids asking me for my place in line, or my burger. I waited patiently for an obnoxious, high pitched immature voice to begin blabbing behind me but I was caught completely off guard.
"Hey, newbie," I heard a female voice behind me sneer...a voice I found all too familiar, but it couldn't be her. That was impossible.
"Stacy Knox," Just saying her name put a bad taste in my mouth and I turned to face the filthy cockroach I had put up with throughout middle school.
She was taller, bulkier, and had miraculously grown into her Dumbo ears. Her long, shaggy blonde hair was pulled back into a messy bun held in place by two chopsticks. Probably ones she had just eaten with.
She crossed her arms over her chest in some sort of lame attempt to intimidate me, but she didn't scare me one bit.
Stacy even had new minions with her now; a brunette girl stood on her left, a blood red bandanna was draped over her greasy mangled braids. Her distressed leather jacket made it look like she had gotten into a fight with a bear...and lost. She actually looked like the poster child for Harley Davidson U.S.A. The girl on Stacy's right was another blonde haired bimbo in outdated mom jeans and a windbreaker. Her hoop earrings hung low next to her gum smacking jaw. She sort of reminded me of a mixture between a pig and Madonna during the eighties. Not a good combination. The two clowns most definitely didn't scare me either.
I still couldn't wrap my head around why exactly Stacy was here. Maybe she was a monster that was sent to kill me and had somehow found a chink in the magical boarders. There was no way she was like me.
"Don't look so surprised! You're not the only one who has a special daddy," Stacy cooed and made it a point to shove her way past me. "It's no wonder my dad ended up being Ares, god of war, and your dad is...the messenger god, right?" She smirked, picking up a hamburger.
"My dad hasn't even claimed me yet," I grumbled under my breath.
"Oh, that's right," Stacy looked over her shoulder at her clones for backup. "Or...," She inched closer and closer to me so that the only thing standing in our way was my plate of food. We were nose to nose before she whispered, "Maybe your dad just doesn't want you. Maybe he's embarrassed of a runt like you. I know I would be."
CRASH!
Stacy had knocked my plate right out of my hands and onto the floor below us. I watched helplessly as my burger spilled its contents on the white marble floor while my glass plate shattered into a thousand pieces; along with every ounce of self control I had.
The entire pavilion went silent, waiting for a reaction from me.
"Oops," she sneered and gave me a faux innocent look. But this was no accident. This was Stacy Knox at her finest. She was trying to torment me like she had when we were kids, but I had grown since then. It didn't have to take a whole year of her shoving me around for me to make a move.
There was a familiar tug against my gut and a pulsing wave of anger possessed my entire body. A burning rush of pure heat rose to my cheeks and went straight through my eyes.
I knew everyone was still watching me, waiting to see how the new girl would handle herself, but I didn't care. I didn't care what anyone thought about me. I was not going to get pushed around again by Stacy Knox.
My vision went totally black, but it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. The tugging sensation in the very pit of my gut got stronger and stronger by the second. The powerful sensation almost felt like I was about to burst; every muscle in my body was pulsing. It was like my body was telling me it was okay, that this feeling was normal and not to fight it. I couldn't focus on anything else but the magnetic pull I felt inside of my body.
I opened my eyes and my hands were directly in front of me, smoke rising from the tips of my fingers. The entire pavilion had gone dead silent. Even Chiron and Mr. D at the head table were totally speechless.
The lingering smell of something burning was in the air, and it took me half a second to realize it was Stacy. She looked like she had been barbecued alive. In the place where her dark eyebrows should have been were only two little white shadows, indicating that they had been singed off.
No way. Had I done that?
"Did you see that?"
"-it was lightning."
"It came out of nowhere..."
I managed to make out some of the gentle murmurs of awe in the pavilion as Stacy stared at me with wide eyes.
"D-d-did you see w-what that...freak did to me? Ugh!"
For once, I had no snarky comment. No comeback, no answer. Absolutely nothing. My jaw was wide open and my mouth was completely dry. I had no idea what I had just done, or what Stacy thought I just did. If I did do it, it was an accident...and I had now embarrassed myself in front of the entire camp.
I looked out into the sea of faces scattered throughout the pavilion. Campers were whispering amongst themselves, trying to figure out what just happened.
"I-I-I didn't mean...I don't know what I...I'm sorry," I desperately tried to explain myself but my words got stuck in my throat, all in one big pre-cry lump.
Then the murmurs died out almost as quickly as they had started and every single camper in the room was staring at me all over again.
What now?
"Holy Hephaestus," one of Stacy's friends gawked.
"It can't be," I heard Chiron whisper. "There's already two of them."
"It's like Thalia all over again," a random camper gasped.
"Well, well, well. Would you look at that?" Mr. D crossed his arms over his pink, tiger print Hawaiian shirt and stroked his chin in amusement. "Father's been busy."
No one was looking at me making a blabbering fool out of myself anymore, they were looking directly above me at a shimmering hologram that was floating right over my head. Storm clouds emitting glistening lightning bolts were flashing wildly in every direction above me. I could feel my knees turning to Jell-O.
"It has been determined," Chiron trotted over to where I was standing, frozen like a human ice sculpture.
Now I was scared. What was going on? Why was there a giant, literal storm cloud over my head? None of this made any sense.
Before I even had time to process the endless stream of questions running through my mind, all of the campers in the pavilion began dropping to their knees.
They were bowing. Even Stacy lowered her head, which would have made me feel a thousand times better on a normal day, but I had a feeling this wasn't the time to think about my victory over Stacy Knox.
I was being claimed.
"Hail, Orion Vera, daughter of the almighty Lord Zeus; ruler of the Skies and King of the mighty Olympians," Chiron boomed. The sky above him thundered, as if Zeus was confirming the action himself.
Then I ran for it. My legs sprinted towards the only place at camp I was familiar with. And this time no one came after me.