Flowergirl, Percy Jackson

002. Pyrrhic Victories

A pyrrhic victory is a victory that inflicts such a devastating toll on the victor it is tantamount to defeat, negating any sense of achievement. 

The term comes from Pyrrhus of Epirus, who beat the Romans in 280BC, but suffered such losses he declared one other such victory would completely destroy him. The Romans had many soldiers to replace their own, while he lost almost all his men. 

The death of Charles Beckendorf is a pyrrhic victory on two fronts. First, because losing one man from the few experienced demigods they have compared to Kronos's endless armies was not worth the trouble. Kronos would not even have been harmed by the explosion. 

Furthermore, the toll that his loss has on the Camp is worse than defeat, even in victory. Everyone has given up. Annabeth drags Percy upstairs to find the prophecy while they sit around the crooked ping pong table of the Big House. Silena sips the hot chocolate Clarisse made rather apathetically, staring off into space. Lila fidgets beside her, trying to distract herself. 

Around the table are the Stoll brothers, Pollux, Katie Gardner and Jake Mason, who is pale and drawn. Clarisse and Michael Yew stand at one end of the table, yelling at each other. Lila tries to block them out. 

"Stop it!" Percy yells, emerging from the corridor upstairs, Annabeth standing beside him. "What are you guys doing?"

He looks to Lila for answers; she shrugs miserably, fiddling with her hairpin. Clarisse interrupts, "Tell Michael not to be a selfish jerk." She's still dressed in her armour, a knife at her belt and Lamer across her back. She's pretty intimidating, but Michael looks unbothered, possibly used to her ire. 

"Oh, that's perfect, coming from you," he snaps.

"The only reason I'm here is to support Silena!" Clarisse shouts. "Otherwise I'd be back in my cabin."

Lila wonders if this meeting would go more smoothly if she were back there. She loves Clarisse, sure, but this all seems hopelessly irreverent. 

"What are you talking about?" Percy snaps, his eyes narrowing. He looks pissed off, fairly. 

Pollux shifts and clears his throat. "Clarisse has refused to speak to any of us, until her, um, issue is resolved. She hasn't spoken for three days."

"It's been wonderful," Travis Stoll says wistfully. 

Lila glares at him. "Seriously?"

"What issue?" Percy asks, though no one answers. No one ever answers any of his questions, though.

Clarisse looks to Chiron. "You're in charge, right? Does my cabin get what we want or not?"

Chiron coughs. "My dear, as I've already explained, Michael is correct. Apollo's cabin has the best claim. Besides, we have more important matters—"

"Sure," Clarisse snaps, her fingers closing over her knife, as she always does to calm herself. "Always more important matters than what Ares needs."

Lila grabs her arm. "Maybe this isn't the time - " 

She's too riled up to care. "We're just supposed to show up and fight when you need us, and not complain!"

"That would be nice," Connor mutters.

"Maybe I should ask Mr. D—"

Chiron frowns, his usual mask of impenetrable patience slipping away. "As you know, our director, Dionysus, is busy with the war. He can't be bothered with this."

"I see," Clarisse scowls, stepping away. "And the senior counsellors? Are any of you going to side with me?"

They've all stopped laughing now.