Chapter 5: Swords, Shields, and Spears

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"Interesting," a rough, feminine voice said. "You will make a fine addition to my team."

The world began to fade to black as he felt himself choking on the water. Something grab him around the waist, but the feeling was very faint.

"My brothers rule will be coming to an end soon."

Darkness... there was just darkness. It stayed like that for what felt like hours before a low growl could be heard. A cold breeze soon followed as the sound got closer. Closer and closer it grew, but he couldn't do anything to get away. The breeze was cold, too cold and the growl was right in his ear at this point.

"NO!"

Taylor shot up from his bed in a cold sweat. His breathing was heavy and a headache plagued him. He quickly reached down to his right thigh and threw off his covers. A sigh of relief was let out as he didn't see a wound.

"Fucking dreams," he mumbled.

He headed for the shower in attempt to clear his head, but the water seemed to have the opposite affect.

'A panic attack?'

He felt like the water was drowning him, just like the dream. His breaths were heavy and short, and it was almost like he was losing feeling in his legs. He stumbled out of the shower, dragging the curtain with him to the ground. Breathing became easier and it seemed that any water trapped in his lungs disappeared.

"Fucking... dreams..." he mumbled once again. "A Son of Poseidon afraid of water, how pathetic."

He looked up the clock on the bathroom wall and noted that his class would be starting soon. He walked over to his desk and opened the drawer to reveal a pen and a notebook.

Taylor Marshall
Entry 12

Same dream once again. No progress on who the voice could be or who's life I'm experiencing in the dream. However, there was a change.

"My brothers rule will be coming to an end soon."

That doesn't give me any clues to who's in my dream, but at least it's something.

I'm still having problems with water, but today was my first panic attack. My only theory is that the drowning in my dream is causing me to develop a real fear unknowingly.

End of entry.

Taylor stared at the pen for a few seconds after he put the notebook back into the drawer.

'I'll never be like you.'

He stuffed the pen into his pocket and slipped a small bracelet made of celestial bronze onto his wrist.

The training arena was filled with different racks, each one holding swords, spears, shields, and more of all different shapes and sizes. Campers were gathered around, glancing over the weapons and talking to their friends.

"Campers!" Taylor yelled. "Gather around."

The campers quickly rushed around him. Taylor looked around and saw a few new faces in his group. He soon realized that the group was almost twenty campers bigger than usual.

"Alright Taylor," someone announced from the arena entrance.

He turned around to see Clarisse walking towards him with light armor and her spear.

"Ah, Clarisse," he replied. "I see you brought your little lightning rod with you. Don't you think you should wield something that resembles your dad more than you grandfather. Like a giant sword you can swing or a boars hoard for a shield?"

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