𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 - 𝙥.𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙨𝙤𝙣

𝘪. 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦-𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘥𝘺-𝘥𝘰 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘶𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘢 𝘥𝘶𝘣𝘰𝘪𝘴

IT WAS NIGHTTIME WHEN SHE FIRST GOT TO CAMP. It was nighttime when anyone got to camp, really. She didn't think she'd ever met someone who had gotten to camp at a reasonable hour, like maybe, noon? It always had to be dark, with pitch black skies and choking silence; they always had to come in with a show-stopping entrance, with a bang. Just once, she wished that a demigod could get to Camp Half-Blood safely, without blood dripping down their face or the stars blinking fire down their scared shadows.

But maybe that was just her. Aurora Dubois, daughter of Apollo, was afraid of the dark. It came with the territory, she guessed, having a dad who was literally the god of the sun. There was a constant reminder of who shoved her into this life blazing up in the sky for twelve hours a day, every day, for the entire year.

Or maybe it was because of that night, when she first got to camp. It still haunted her dreams, followed her reflection, and whispered in her ear, even though it was over five years ago. Aurora didn't like to think about it too much though, and so whatever the reason was, she was scared of the dark.

Don't get her wrong, she hated the mornings too, and fell solidly into the category of only functioning for several hours midday. But, since she was a child of Apollo, Aurora was forced into waking up at the buttcrack of dawn with all her other siblings (spoiler alert: very few of them were actually morning people). Camp wasn't too strict on normal-person rules though, so she pumped herself full of caffeine - screw her ADHD - and went about her day.

That was her routine, every day, for five years. Aurora made friends and got along with most of her siblings, even managing to make Mr. D crack half a smile at one of her jokes, which was honestly her proudest achievement to date. Never mind the way that the hairs on her arms stood on end when she found herself on the other end of a camper's sword during dueling practice. Or how sometimes, when she was really frustrated, a curse would slip out but it wouldn't be in the right language - English or  Greek - and people would look at her weirdly. She really tried not to think about all the strange looks she got from Chiron, either.

Nope, Aurora was perfectly content as she was, nothing amiss in her simple life functioning as a coffee-addicted demigod afraid of the dark.

So then of course, Percy Jackson arrived at camp in the middle of the night.

Aurora had been sleeping. She shared a bunk with her brother Danny, and had spent the night tossing and turning. Which, okay, was weird. She prided herself on being a pretty heavy sleeper, having slept through several loud explosions during field practices throughout the years. But that night, her dreams kept fading in and out, and none of it made sense.

They were just splotches, rain here, a wrecked car there. Some random skinny dude with black hair and a cool sword. Aurora thought the whole thing was her imagination running wild from the stories told around the campfire; demigod dreams were usually more coherent than what she was seeing now.

And then imagine her surprise when, upon waking up, Annabeth Chase was at her cabin door, calling for her.

"Rory, wake up. This is important!"

"Ugh, go away...," Aurora grumbled, pushing her face further into her pillow to stay in whatever weird half-asleep, half-awake phase she was in. Spoiler alert: it didn't work.

"Rory, c'mon. Something happened last night. You really need to–"

"I swear to all the gods, Rory, if you don't go answer the door I will personally smite you." Danny interrupted, his harsh voice coming muffled from the top bunk. Over in the corner, she could hear someone - probably Lee - snicker.