OF LIGHTNING AND OF ICHOR | pjo verse

iii. a minotaur and a camper

[warning: long chapter]

iii. a minotaur and a camper.

MORGAN STOOD IN THE ARENA with a sword clasps firmly within her fingertips even if her wrist was lacked as it spun the blade in the air. Her eyes tracked over the movement playing out before her as Priya trusted her the hilt of her blade, that once been used an oncoming block from her opponent's own force, and with all the power her small stature could conjure and effectively pushed him as far as she could.

Luke fell into the throw smoothly, tucking his sword into his side as his body bounced back from its roll and landed back on his feet just as quick. His blonde hair danced over the brim of his brow, painted over by a sheen line of sweat that made the colour appear darker than what it was. His eyes held a vibrant glint to them, shining even more as he circled around Priya.

"I've got to admit, your skills are definitely giving the Ares cabin its rep."

Priya smiled proudly. From where Morgan stood, hunched over a notebook, Andy let out a soft mumble of words that Morgan almost wouldn't have caught had not been for their close proximity. Morgan narrowed her brows, the light of the sun making it difficult to decipher what little of the drawing was in view, but from what she could assume was a boy from the looks of it, appearing adamantly maniacal. Rows of teeth on display by a shark like grin, gaze wild and alert as if on the edge of battle given the tight grip around the hilt of his sword. While shrouded dark ink, Morgan could make out the faint outline of Thalia's tree. But through it all, what stood out the most was the figure's eyes. A bright green that almost rivaled that of the ocean itself.

"He's going to bait her. It's easy to tell Priya loves the praise, especially if it makes her look like the best fighter out of all of cabin five." Andy said casually as her hand ran smoothly over the pages. "But it has its downsides."

Raising a brow in response Morgan, drawing her attention away from the drawing, had almost asked what the girl meant when Luke's voice cut through.

"I have to say, Priya, your skills nearly give Clarisse a run for her money." There was a timber in his tone that caused his voice to hold a slight titter underneath. "But at least she can knock me on my ass."

If looks could kill, Luke surely would have been splayed over a spitroast for the whole camp to see. Priya's eyes boiled over with a fury. Hand locked tightly around the gold hilt of her sword, lip pulled back into a snarl, she charged forward.

Morgan watched as Luke's stance remained lack, but the corner of his lips twitched as if he was holding back a smirk. The sound of blade meeting blade echoed throughout the arena, Priya growing more aggressive with each strike was hindered by a block. Metal scraping against metal was, in itself, never a truly pleasant sound especially heard for long amounts of time. In this moment, however, Morgan could almost forget about the distain brought by the sound as she watched Priya's interlocking grip around her blade slip. It was a small movement, a blink and you miss it.

Not if you studied the fight closely, however. And not if you were Luke. Luke Castellan, head of the Hermes cabin, sixteen, and the camps proclaimed heartthrob, catching the hearts and attention of many campers around camp. And, it made sense. With sandy blonde hair and tall stature, carried by a charming personality that made anyone drawn to him. Morgan and Andy had once heard some Aphroditite cabin girls fawning over how he looked just like those models in some fancy magazines they had read. The only thing that set him apart was the long scar that ran across his face, a reminder of a quest from a few years back.

But that wasn't the only thing Luke was known around camp for. No matter what cabin you were from, or how short amount of time you had at camp, everyone knew how much of a formidable fighter the son of Hermes was. With a blade in hand, the image was enough to almost send someone running for the hills. Most campers hardly ever challenged him to a fight, the humiliation of defeat would be too much to bare.