︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

DAYS IN THE SUN

chapter one
❛ 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚕𝚎𝚎𝚙. ❜

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

PERCY JACKSON WASN'T a fan of fiction, make believe books, mythology, and disney movies. His mother often joked that he would one day find a girl who was all about those, and he would learn to love it. It was either that, or find a girl who managed to look like a real life disney princess. And his mother was right, one look at the mysterious girl that leant over him and suddenly Beauty and the Beast became a movie of interest.

The girl was a real life Belle. She had tan skin and her hair was as brown as an old book. Freckles danced against her nose and cheeks, but, she wasn't all that alike to Belle. He was able to see a flicker of blue eyes before she disappeared. Just before he passed out, he was able to hear words from people he didn't even know were there.

"It's him. It must be."

"Silence, Annabeth. He's still conscious. Bring him inside."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Percy blinked harshly as he realized he was laying in a soft bed, being spoon-fed something that tasted like buttered popcorn, only it was pudding. A girl with curly blonde haired hovered over him, smirking as she scraped drops off his chin with the spoon.

"Beth," An unknown voice chided from the background, but he wasn't able to pinpoint where or who it was coming from. "Don't play with the newbie, besides, his eyes are open."

Once the blonde noticed his eyes were indeed open, she began asking him questions. "What will happen at the summer solstice?"

He managed to croak, "What?"

Beth looked around, as if afraid someone would overhear their conversation. "What's going on? What was stolen? We've only got a few weeks!"

"I'm sorry," Percy mumbled, "I don't . . ."

Somebody knocked on the door, and the girl quickly filled his mouth with pudding.

The next time Percy woke up, the girl was gone. Instead, in her place was a husky blond dude, like a surfer, stood in the corner of the bedroom keeping watch over him. He had blue eyes — at least a dozen of them — on his cheeks, his forehead, the backs of his hands.

When he finally came around for good, he found his surroundings to be nicer than he was used to. He was sitting in a deck chair on a huge porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the distance. The breeze smelled like strawberries.

On the table next to Percy was a tall drink. It looked like iced apple juice, with a green straw and a paper parasol stuck through a maraschino cherry. His hand was so weak he almost dropped the glass once he got his fingers around it.

"Careful," a familiar voice said.

Grover was leaning against the porch railing, looking like he hadn't slept in a week. Under one arm, he cradled a shoe box. He was wearing blue jeans, Converse hi-tops and a bright orange t-shirt that said Camp Half-Blood. He looked like plain old Grover, not the goat boy he had seen him turn into. The sight made him believe maybe he had a nightmare. His mother was alive and they were on vacation, stopped at the big house for some reason.

"You saved my life," Grover said. "I . . . well, the least I could do . . . I went back to the hill. I thought you might want this."

He placed the shoe box in Percy's lap. Inside was a black-and-white bulls horn, the base jagged from being broken off, the tip splattered with dried blood. The sight made him realize it hadn't been a nightmare.

"The Minotaur," he said.

"Um, Percy, it isn't a good idea—"

"That's what they call it in the Greek myths, isn't it?" He demanded. "The Minotaur. Half man, half bull."

Grover shifted uncomfortably. "You've been out for two days. How much do you remember?"

"My mom. Is she really . . ."

He looked down, and that's all Percy needed to confirm his answer. He stared across the meadow. There were groves of trees, a winding stream, acres of strawberries spread out under the blue sky. The valley was surrounded by rolling hills; and the tallest one, directly in front of them, was the one with the huge pine tree on top. Even that looked beautiful in the sunlight. His mother was gone. The whole world should be black and cold. Nothing should have looked beautiful.

"I'm sorry," Grover sniffled. "I'm a failure. I'm—I'm the worst satyr in the world." He moaned, stomping his foot so hard it came off. Well, to be more exact the Converse hi-top came off. The inside was filled with Styrofoam, except for a hoof-shaped hole.

"Oh, Styx!" He mumbled.

Thunder rolled across the clear sky as Grover muttered something about, 'Am acts just her father, clear as the blue sky'  but Percy was too deep in thought to fully realize what he said. His mind was racing over Grover being a satyr, his mom had really been squeezed into nothingness, dissolved into yellow light. And finally he was alone, an orphan, and how he would never go back to live with Smelly Gabe.

His gaze landed back on Grover, who was still sniffling. He looked as if he was expecting Percy to hit him.

"It wasn't your fault," He said.

"Yes, it was. I was supposed to protect you."

"Did my mother ask you to protect me?"

"No. But that's my job. I'm a keeper. At least . . . I was."

"But why . . ." Percy suddenly felt dizzy, his vision swimming.

"Don't strain yourself," Grover said. "Here."

He helped him hold his glass and put the straw to his lips. Percy recoiled at the taste, he was expecting apple juice, but instead it was his mom's homemade blue chocolate-chip cookies. By drinking it, his whole body felt warm and good, full of energy. He felt as if his mom had just brushed her hand against his cheek, given him a cookie the way she used to when he was small, and told him everything was going to be okay.

Before he knew it, he drained the glass. "Was it good?" Grover asked.

He nodded.

"What did it taste like?" He sounded wistful, making Percy feel guilt for not letting him have a drink.

"Sorry," he said. "I should've let you taste."

His eyes got wide. "No! That's not what I meant. I just . . . wondered."

"Chocolate-chip cookies," Percy said. "My mom's, homemade."

He sighed. "And how do you feel?"

"Like I could throw Nancy Bobofit a hundred meters."

"That's good," he said. "That's good. I don't think you should risk drinking any more of that stuff."

"What do you mean?" Percy asked.

Grover took the empty glass from him gingerly, as if it were dynamite, and set it back on the table. "Come on, Chiron and Mr. D are waiting."

The porch wrapped all the way around the farmhouse.

As they came around the opposite end of the house, he caught his breath. They must've been on the north shore of Long Island, because on that side of the house, the valley marched all the way up to Long Island Sound, which glittered about a mile in the distance. 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 satyrs played volleyball. Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange t-shirts like Grover's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded trail, and — unless he was hallucinating — some of their horses had wings.

Down at the end of the porch, two men sat across from each other at a card table. The blonde haired girl who'd spoon-fed him popcorn-flavored pudding was leaning on the porch rail next to them. Besides her was the brunette girl who Percy remembered referring to as Belle when he was half-awake. She was also leaned against the railing, nudging the blonde with a smirk twisted onto her lips. The blonde elbowed her back, causing a wide grin to replace the girl's smirk.

The man facing Percy was small, but porky. He had a red nose, big watery eyes and curly hair so black it was almost purple. He looked like a cherub who'd turned middle-aged in a trailer park. He wore a tiger-pattern Hawaiian shirt, he would've fitted right in at one of Gabe's poker parties.

"That's Mr. D," Grover murmured to him. "He's the camp director. Be polite. The blonde, that's Annabeth Chase. She's just a camper, and the girl besides her, that's Amara Grace, also a camper. They've been here longer than just about anybody. And you already know Chiron . . ."

He pointed at the guy whose back was to Percy. Then, he recognized the tweed jacket, the thinning brown hair, the scraggly beard.

"Mr. Brunner!" He cried.

He saw Amara glanced at Annabeth, her eyes rolling as she crossed her arms.

The latin teacher turned and smiled. "Ah, good, Percy," he said. "Now we have four for pinochle."

He offered him a chair to the right of Mr. D, who looked at him with bloodshot eyes and heaved a great sigh. "Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. There. Now don't expect me to be glad to see you."

"Uh, thanks." He scooted a little further away from him.

"Annabeth?" Mr. Brunner called to the blonde.

She came forward and Mr. Brunner introduced them. "This young lady," he pointed at Annabeth. "Nursed you back to health, Percy." He spared a look at Amara as he gestured her forward. "And Amara, well, she watched."

Percy concluded Amara was the voice he heard in the background. "Annabeth, Amara, my dears, why don't you go check on Percy's bunk? We'll be putting him in cabin eleven for now."

"Sure, Chiron." Annabeth said. She had a deep tan and curly blonde hair, her eyes however were starling grey, like storm clouds, and looked as if she were analyzing the best way to take him down in a fight.

"Whatever you say," Amara spoke, a grin curled back onto her lips as she met glances with Annabeth. She looked around Percy's age, except she seemed to be either the same height as him or a centimeter taller, and was definitely more athletic looking. Her skin was a dark tan, with her dark brown hair being curly, the color reminded Percy of the books his mother collected and kept in her mini library. But her eyes threw him off completely.

They were two different shades of blue — electric definitely — but around her pupil was lighter like the sky, while the outside color surrounding it was a royal blue. They mixed well together. Percy had to admit, they were pretty, intimidating, powerful, but also looked full of hidden pain. He could've swore they flickered into a lighter teal as a whole, but when he looked again they were normal.

Amara glanced at the Minotaur horn in his hand, then back at him. He imagined she was going to praise him for his accomplishment. Instead she said, "You drool when you sleep."

Then she turned and sprinted off down the lawn, her brown hair flying behind her with Annabeth by her side as laughter was heard from the two girls, running off into the distance.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

After the introductions with Chiron, Mr. D, and a tour around the camp, he was lead over to the cabins, which was a huge U shape of greek temples that faced a commons area about the size of a soccer field, dotted with greek statues, fountains, flower beds, and a couple of basketball hoops. Currently he was being lead towards where the blonde and brunette haired girls he'd met at the Big House were. They were sitting in front of the last cabin on the left, number eleven.

When they reached them, Annabeth looked him over critically. Amara's grin was gone as she appeared bored, she was leaned against the cabin stairs with her arms spread out.

"Girls," Chiron said, "I have masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy from here?"

Amara nodded while Annabeth gave out a, yes sir.

"Cabin eleven," the centaur gestured towards the doorway. "Make yourself at home."

Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway was a doctor's symbols, a winged pole with two snakes wrapped around it. A caduceus.

Inside it was packed with people, both boys and girls, way more than the number of bunk beds. Sleeping bags were spread all over the floor. Chiron didn't go in, the door was too low for him. But when the campers saw him they all stood and bowed respectfully.

"Well, then," Chiron said. "Good luck, Percy. I'll see you at dinner."

He galloped away towards the archery range.

Percy stood in the doorway, looking at the kids. They weren't bowing any more. They were staring at him, sizing him up. He knew this routine. He'd gone through it at enough schools.

"Well?" Amara tilted her head in the direction of the cabin. "Go on."

He took a step, and tripped. There were some snickers from the campers, but none of them said anything.

"Percy Jackson, meet Cabin Eleven." Annabeth introduced.

"Regular, or undetermined?" Someone asked.

He didn't know what to say, but Amara did, "Undetermined." Everybody groaned. A guy who was a little older than the rest come forward.

"Now, now, campers. That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there." The guy was about nineteen. He was tall and muscular, with short-cropped sandy hair and a friendly smile. He wore an orange tank top, cutoffs, sandals and a leather necklace with five different-colored clay beads. The only thing unsettling about his appearance was a thick white scar that ran from just beneath his right eye to his jaw, like an old knife slash.

"This is Luke." Annabeth spoke, her voice sounding different somehow. He glanced over and could've sworn she was blushing. She saw him looking, and her expression hardened again. Meanwhile a knowing look rested on Amara's face, confusing him more. "He's your counselor for now."

"For now?"

"You're undetermined." Luke explained patiently. "They don't know what cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers."

Percy looked at the tiny section of floor they'd given him and then proceeded to look around at the campers' faces, some sullen and suspicious, some grinning stupidly, some eyeing him as if they were waiting for a chance to pick his pockets.

"How long will I be here?" He asked.

"Good question," Luke said. "Until you're determined."

"How long will it take?" The campers all laughed.

"Come on," Annabeth told him. "We'll show you the volleyball court."

"I've already seen it."

"Let's go see it again," Amara said harshly as she grabbed onto his arm and dragged him outside, Annabeth alongside them. He could still hear the kids of cabin eleven laughing behind them.

When they were a few meters away, Annabeth spoke. "Jackson, you have to do better than that."

"What?"

Amara let out a sigh and gave the blonde a look. "Still think he's the one?"

"What's your problem?" Percy blurted. "All I know is, I kill some bull guy—"

"Don't talk like that." Amara scowled as her electric blue eyes darkened with annoyance.

"You know how many kids at this camp wish they'd had your chance?" Annabeth added.

"To get killed?"

"To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?"

He shook his head. "Look, if the thing I fought was actually the Minotaur, the same one from the stories . . ."

"Yes."

"Then there's only one."

"Yes."

"And he died, like, a gazillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So . . ."

"Monsters don't die, Percy. They go away for a while but they don't die." Amara explained with a duh look.

"Oh thanks, that clears it up."

"They don't have souls, like you and me. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you're lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually they re-form." Annabeth elaborated.

Percy thought about Mrs. Dodds. "You mean if I killed one, accidentally, with a sword—"

"The Fu. . . I mean, your math teacher. That's right. She's still out there, you just made her very, very mad."

"How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?"

"You talk in your sleep." Amara commented in a teasing tone.

"You almost called her something. A Fury? They're Hades' tortures, right?"

The cocky look was wiped off Amara's face as Annabeth glanced nervously at the ground, as if she were expecting it to open up and swallow them. "You shouldn't call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones, if we have to speak of them at all."

"Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering?" He knew he sounded whiny, but he noticed the slight look Annabeth gave Amara, the latter giving a shrug. "Why do I have to stay in cabin eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there."

He pointed to the first few cabins, and Annabeth turned pale. "You don't just choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or . . . your parent."

Amara held up a hand while Annabeth stared at Percy, waiting for him to get it. "And to be fair, the first cabin isn't empty. There's only one bunk as well." His eyebrows furrowed, Chiron didn't tell him someone at camp was a child of Zeus.

"My mom is Sally Jackson," he said. "She works at the candy story in Grand Central Station. At least, she used to."

"I'm sorry about your mom, Percy. But that's not what I mean. I'm talking about your other parent, your dad."

"He's dead. I never knew him."

Amara sighed. Clearly, they'd had this conversation before with other kids. "Your father's not dead, Percy."

"How can you say that? You know him?"

"No, of course not."

"Then how can you say—"

The brunette stepped closer to get more in his face as she spoke. "Because I know you. You wouldn't be here if you weren't one of us."

"You don't know anything about me."

"No?" She raised a dark brow, almost like she was challenging him. "I bet you moved from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them."

"How—"

"Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too."

Percy tried to swallow his embarrassment. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Annabeth took over while Amara backed up from him, a smug look on her face. "Taken together, it's almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That's because your mind is hardwired for Ancient Greek. And the ADHD—you're impulsive, can't sit still in the classroom. That's your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they'd keep you alive. As for the attention problems; that's because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal's. Of course the teachers want you medicated. Most of them are monsters. They don't want you seeing them for what they are."

"You sound like . . . you went through the same thing?"

"Most of the kids here did," Amara said. "If you weren't like us, you couldn't have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar."

"Ambrosia and nectar?"

"The food and drink we were giving you to make you better," she continued, twisting her ring that he just noticed she wore. "It would've killed a normal kid. It would've turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand you'd be dead. Face it, Drool boy. You're a half-blood."

Then a husky voice yelled, "Well! A newbie!"

Percy looked over. The big girl from the ugly red cabin was sauntering toward them. She had three other girls behind her, big, ugly, and mean looking like her, all wearing camo jackets.

"Clarisse," Annabeth sighed. "Why don't you go polish your spear or something?"

"Sure, Miss Princess," the big girl said. "So I can run you through with it Friday night."

Amara stepped closer to the girl, confidence was clear in her body language as she spoke. "Errete es korakas," She said, which Percy somehow understood was greek, "Go to the crows," though he had a feeling it was a worse curse than it sounded. "You know you don't stand a chance, La Rue."

"We'll pulverize you," Clarisse said, but her eye twitched. She turned towards Percy. "Who's this little runt?"

"Percy Jackson," Annabeth said. "Meet Clarisse, daughter of Ares."

He blinked. "Like . . . the war god?"

Clarisse sneered. "You got a problem with that?"

"No," he said, recovering his wits. "It explains the bad smell."

Clarisse growled while a small grin started curling onto Amara's expression. "We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy."

"Percy."

"Whatever. Come on, I'll show you."

"Clarisse—" Annabeth tried to say.

"Stay out of it, wise girl." Her glare was directed to Amara. "You too, Thora," the greek word was immediately translated in Percy's head, thunder. But he couldn't understand why Clarisse was calling Amara that.

Percy handed Annabeth his Minotaur horn, and got ready to fight, but before he knew it, Clarisse had him by the neck and was dragging him towards a cinder-block building that he knew immediately was the bathroom.

He was kicking and punching, but Clarisse had hands like iron. She dragged him into the girls' bathroom. There was a line of toilets on one side and a line of shower stalls down the other. Clarisse's friends were all laughing, and he was trying to find the strength he used to fight the Minotaur, but it just wasn't there.

"Like he's 'Big Three' material," Clarisse said as she pushed him towards one of the toilets, he caught her sparing a glance towards Amara, who held a frown at the Big Three comment. "Yeah, right. Minotaur probably fell over laughing, he was so stupid looking."

Her friends snickered. Annabeth stood in the corner, watching through her fingers. Clarisse bent him over on his knees and started pushing his head towards the toliet bowl. He was looking at the scummy water thinking, he will not go into that. He won't.

Then something happened. Percy felt a tug in the pit of his stomach. He heard the plumbing rumble, the pipes shudder. Clarisse's grip on his hair loosened. Water shot out of the toilet, making an arch straight over his head, and the next thing he knew, he was sprawled on the bathroom tiles with Clarisse screaming behind him.

He turned just as the water blasted out of the toliet again, hitting Clarisse in the face. The pressure was so much it pushed her down onto the floor, the water stayed on her like the spray from a fire hose, pushing her backwards into a shower stall.

She struggled, gasping, and her friends started coming towards her. But then the other toilets exploded too, and six more streams of toliet water blasted them back. The showers acted up, too, and together all the fixtures sprayed the camouflage girls right out of the bathroom, spinning them around like pieces of garbage being washed away.

As soon as they were out the door, he felt the tug in his gut lessen, and the water shut off as quickly as it had started. The entire bathroom was flooded. Annabeth hadn't been spared. She was dripping wet, but she hadn't been pushed out the door. She was standing in exactly the same place, staring at him in shock.

Percy looked down and realized he was sitting in the only dry spot in the whole room. There was a circle of dry floor around him. He didn't have one drop of water on his clothes. Nothing. His eyes searched the room for a familiar brown haired girl.

"Amara?"

The brunette was making her way back into the bathroom and he assumed once she saw the water bursting and spraying the daughter of Ares, she had run out. A smart move that the blonde should have made as well. Percy stood up, his legs shaky.

"How did you . . ." Amara asked.

"I don't know."

They walked to the door. Outside, Clarisse and her friends were sprawled in the mud, and a bunch of other campers had gathered around to gawk. Clarisse's hair was flattened across her face. Her camouflage jacket was sopping and she smelled like sewage. She gave him a look of absolute hatred. "You are dead, new boy. You are totally dead."

"You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse? Close your mouth." Percy said.

Her friends had to hold her back while Amara gave Annabeth a look behind his back. They dragged her towards cabin five, while the other campers made way to avoid her flailing feet.

Annabeth stared at him.

"What?" He demanded. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking," she said, "that I want you on our team for capture the flag."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Word of the bathroom incident spread immediately. Whenever he went, campers pointed at him and murmured something about toilet water, and it probably was due to the drench blonde girl as well. Annabeth and Amara showed him a few more places: the metal shop, the arts and crafts room, and the climbing wall. Finally they returned to the canoeing lake, where the trail led back to the cabins.

"I've got training to do," Annabeth said flatly. "Dinner's at seven thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall."

"Annabeth, I'm sorry about the toilets." He didn't bother apologizing to Amara, since she had ran out before she could get soaked.

"Whatever,"

"It wasn't my fault."

The blonde looked at him skeptically, and he realized it was his fault. He didn't understand how, but the toilets had responded to him. He had become one with the plumbing.

"You need to talk to the Oracle," Annabeth said.

"Who?"

"Not who," she continued. "What. The Oracle. I'll ask Chiron."

Percy stared into the lake, wishing somebody would give him a straight answer for once. He noticed two teenage girls sitting cross-legged at the base of the pier. They smiled and waved as if he were a long-lost friend. He waved back.

"Don't encourage them," Amara warned. As if hearing her the girls stuck their tongues out at her, and then made a grabbing motion with their hands. "Naiads are terrible flirts." Thunder echoed across the sky as a glare appeared in the brunette's eyes, she glanced down at the sea creatures and they swam off at the thunder.

"Naiads," Percy repeated. "That's it. I want to go home now."

Annabeth frowned. "Don't you get it, Percy? You are home. This is the only safe place on earth for kids like us."

"You mean, mentally disturbed kids?"

"I mean not human. Not totally human, anyway. Half-humans."

"Half-human and half-what?"

"I think you know."

Amara arched a brow at him, letting him know she's expecting an answer. "God," he said. "Half-god."

She nodded. "Your father isn't dead, Percy. He's one of the Olympians."

"That's . . . crazy."

"Is it? What's the most common thing gods did in the old stories? They ran around falling in love with humans and having kids with them. Do you think they've changed their habits in the last few millennia?"

"But those are just—" he stopped himself from saying myths again. "But if all the kids here are half-gods—"

"Demigods," Annabeth said. "That's the official term. Or half-bloods."

"Then who's your dad?"

Her hands tightened around the pier railing. He got the feeling he'd just trespassed on a sensitive subject.

"My dad is a professor at West Point," she said. "I haven't seen him since I was very small. He teaches American history."

"He's human?"

"What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human female attractive? How sexist is that?" Amara commented. He turned his attention back to Annabeth.

"Who's your mom, then?"

"Cabin six."

"Meaning?" Annabeth straightened while Amara hopped onto the pier railing, locking her legs within the railing as if making sure she couldn't fall backwards into the water. "Athena. Goddess of wisdom and battle."

Okay, Percy thought. Why not?

He turned his attention towards Amara. "Who's your parent?" He asked, tilting his head slightly.

A grin made it's way to her lips as she looked up to the sky, and then back to Percy. "I'll show you."

She hopped down from the railing and made her way back towards the grass where the water met, her eyes on the Naiads who held a mischievous look. She leaned her hand against the surface of the water.

Percy's eyes widened as he heard the sound of electricity, and soon he saw it sprout from her hand, heading across the lake as blue tingles appeared everywhere. The Naiads were trapped in a tiny corner to avoid the electricity.

After a few seconds Amara stopped, giving the Naiads an accomplished look as the electricity disappeared, and turned her attention back to Percy. "Z—Zeus?" He asked stunned.

She smirked. "Daughter of Zeus, god of the sky and king of the gods. Cabin one."

"So, does that mean you just sit back and do nothing?" Percy asked, the smirk wiped off her face as she faltered.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, your father is the king of the gods. Doesn't that make you royalty? So you probably don't have to pick up a sword or use your powers that often, right?"

Thunder roared across the sky. Amara's eyes darkened as she glared at him. He held back from flinching, holding his ground. "See? Like this, and then does that mean Annabeth would fight your battles?"

Her fingers twitched in irritation before it suddenly disappeared. Her eyes had lightened up and the thunder was gone, instead she had a sickening sweet smile resting on her face. "You know what," she began walking towards Percy, advancing him towards the end of the pier until he stood at the very edge. "I think, you need to cool off."

Moving her hand in a swift motion, she hadn't even touched him before he was sent flying backwards into the water. "Amara!" Annabeth scolded, but the brunette shrugged.

When he resurfaced, he was able to see Amara walking off, her hands laced behind her head. He could have sworn he was seeing things, but he thought he saw wind like spirits things circling around the daughter of Zeus as she walked. Almost like they were playing. When he blinked and looked again, they were gone, and so was Amara.

"Come on," Annabeth's hand was suddenly in front of him. "Let's get you out of there and answer the rest of your questions."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Percy looked around the pavilion, torches blazed around the marble columns. A central fire burned in a bronze brazier the size of a bathtub. He noticed each cabin had its own table, covered in white cloth trimmed in purple. Three of the tables were empty, but he knew that cabin eleven's was way overcrowded. He had to squeeze on to the edge of the bench with half his butt hanging off.

He saw Grover sitting at table twelve with Mr. D, a few satyrs, and a couple of plump blond boys who looked just like Mr. D. Chiron stood to one side, the picnic table being too small for the centaur.

He moved his eyes to find Annabeth, who sat at table six with a bunch of serious looking athletic kids, all with her grey eyes and honey-blonde hair.

Clarisse sat behind the Hermes's table at the Ares's table. Apparently, she'd gotten over being hosed down by him because she was laughing and belching right alongside her friends.

He moved his eyes once more in pursuit of a brunette, only to find her sitting at cabin nine, the Hephaestus cabin. She was besides a dark skinned boy, one who looked a few years older than her. Her arm was resting on his shoulder as her body leaned against his muscular one. He had a grin on his face as he talked to her, laughing when his cabinmate across from him said something to Amara in which caused the brunette to send a gust of wind his way. The boy's brown hair flew wildly as he held onto the table.

Once the older boy tapped her arm, Amara stopped and gave the other boy a grin as laughter seemed to escape her. Percy didn't know what she was doing over there, but he figured he could ask her later.

Finally, she looked up and met his gaze. Immediately one of her eyebrows were raised as a cocky look appeared from noticing his predicament. She mouthed the words. "Looks like you're hanging in there, Jackson."

He rolled his eyes as he turned back around, not giving the daughter of Zeus the satisfaction of seeing him annoyed by her comment.

Finally, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, and everybody fell silent. He raised a glass. "To the gods!"

Everybody else raised their glasses, "To the gods!"

Suddenly, wood nymphs came forward with platters of food, grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, and barbecue. Percy's glass was empty and Luke nudged him from besides him. "Speak to it. Whatever you want, nonalcoholic, of course."

Percy glanced at his glass. "Cherry Coke." The glass filled with sparkling caramel liquid. He thought of an idea as a smile reached his lips. "Blue, Cherry Coke."

He made a silent toast to his mother.

"Here you go, Percy." Luke offered, handing him a platter of smoked brisket.

Percy loaded his plate and was about to take a big bite when Amara had suddenly appeared behind him, she placed her hand on his shoulder, and jerked him slightly, stopping him from eating. Everyone had gotten up and began making their way towards the center of the pavilion. "Come on." She urged, her tone filled with impatience.

As Percy got up, and made his way over with her. The closer he got, he noticed that everyone was taking a portion of their meal and dropping it into the fire, the ripest strawberry, the juiciest slice of beef, the warmest, most buttery roll. The brunette spoke up. "Burnet offerings, for the gods. They like the smell."

"You're kidding." Her electric blue eyes narrowed, her expression warning him not to take it lightly.

Percy watched as Luke approached the fire, bowed his head, and tossed in a cluster of fat red grapes. "Hermes."

Amara was next and tossed a large, piece of meat. "Zeus." She muttered.

Percy averted her gaze as he thought back on the comment he had made earlier. Part of him feeling a bit guilty, but that side disappeared once he noticed the look she was giving him. "Well? Are you going to keep holding up the campers or toss your food?"

He rolled his eyes and made a silent prayer, before tossing part of his food. The daughter of Zeus gave him one last look before she made her way to cabin one, where he noticed she was all alone.

Once everybody had returned to their seats and finished eating their meals, Chiron pounded his hoof again for their attention.

Mr. D stood with a sigh. "Yes, I suppose I should say hello to you all brats. Well, hello. Your activities director, Chiron says the next Capture the Flag is this Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels."

A bunch of ugly cheering rose from the Ares table at the news, Percy witnessed Amara and Annabeth share a look of annoyance from across tables.

"Personally," Mr. D continued. "I couldn't care less but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new camper today. Peter Johnson." Chiron mumbled something in his ear. "Uh, Percy Jackson. That's right, hurrah and all that. Now run along to the silly little campfire of yours, go on."

The campers cheered and made their made towards the amphitheater, where Apollo's cabin led a sing-along.

Percy couldn't help but keep his eyes on the daughter of Zeus, who was trying to escape from Luke's arms. He didn't know what it was about the brunette, it was obvious they weren't going to get along, that much was clear. But he was drawn to her for some reason, part of him wanted to change the fact that they didn't get along. Meanwhile, the other part was okay with it knowing not everybody was going to like him. But when it came to the daughter of Zeus, he didn't know anymore, he was confused.

Luke had his arms wrapped around her torso, locking her in as she attempted to free herself. But it was useless, the son of Hermes had a tight grip on her as she let out a laugh and helplessly kicked her legs.

The Jackson boy shook his head at the sight, causing his sea green eyes to lock with electric blue ones. The demigods stared at each other from across the campfire before Amara's attention was redirected to Luke as he spoke. Whatever he said, it caused Amara to grin as the son of Hermes let her go from his arms, instead wrapping one around her shoulders as he pulled her into his side.

Percy had to admit, maybe, fictional things weren't as bad as he once thought.

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1-03-23

    hello hello hello! i hope you all enjoyed the first chapter of mythology and welcome back! i'm very thankful and grateful you all stuck around and i'm so so so excited you're excited for amara and percy to be back !! i hope you liked the very new, and here to stay, first chapter of mythology. please! leave me thoughts and comments on how you liked the chapter and with that, i will see you all in the next chapter, bye bye!!! <3