Chapter 6 (The Prophecy) (edited)

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Ever have that dream where you don't want to get woken up during it? Well that's just what I was having before I was awoken by pounding on my door. Well before I get to who was pounding on my door I want to tell you about my dream.


~The Dream~


I was staring there gawking at my silver bow. I had seen my uncle, Clint, shoot his so many times but my dad told me that I was too young. At the time my dad wasn't home and Clint was babysitting me. I was in my little arsenal that I could use one I got older. Clint walked in and chuckled as he saw my mouth hanging open and my eyes glued to the glass case surrounding my bow.




"Wanna shoot it?" He asked unlocking it and taking it out.



"Ya!" my five year old self said and hugged his leg. He chuckled and picked me up. He held my bow and quiver in one hand and me in the other arm. I hugged him.



"This will be our little secret, alright?" He asked me smiling.



He was by far one of my favorite uncles. Then there was Brucey and Rhodey and Steve and Thor. Natasha was my only aunt, but if I had others, she would still be my favorite. I nodded and he carried me to where my dad had a training center for the Avengers when they stayed here. He had me stand at the 10 foot mark and he slung my quiver over my shoulder like how he carries his.



It felt as if it belonged there. He handed me my bow and my hand felt as if the bow was built to accommodate me and only me. Without his help I stood in the position I saw him in before and knocked an arrow. I saw his face light up with pride as he saw me pull back the string. I then tuned the world out and focused on the target. I let go of the string and it flew so fast it was all just a silver blur.



Once I heard the satisfying 'THUMP' I looked to see where it landed.


~Dream interrupted~


So, thanks to whoever was behind my door, my dream got interrupted. I got up and groaned. My head was pounding thanks to the few beers I had last night and I dragged my dead carcass over to the door and opened it. There stood a guy that couldn't be more than a year or so older than me. He had sea green eyes, dark messy hair; you could tell he worked out. I perked up and quickly tried to straighten my nightgown and my bed head.


"Hey." He said. His voice made me want to go week in the knees.


"Hi..." I said, blushing a bit. "Umm... my name is Stark. Arcee Stark." I stated.


"Percy Jackson, Son of Poseidon." He stated. "Chiron would like to see you."


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