Chapter Twenty-Two:
The Inherited Rage of Gods.
— Babe, there's something tragic
about you, something so magic
about you, don't you agree ?
Pure fury was a motivator.
It was a known fact that anger was enough to motivate anyone as long as the adrenaline kicked in for long enough. Colette Victoire knew that all too well. She was her father's daughter. She was the heat of the sun. She was the anger that could flood her father's veins. She was the sun's kin, and the sun burned any and everything in its path if need be. And, on that day, she called upon her true power for the first time. As her legs carried her to the crest of the hill, not bothering to look back on where she'd left those tied to her heart and soul. In one fluid movement, she yanked the necklace that sat on her collarbone. A bow made of pure gold appeared in her hands, the arrow made of silver spawned in her palm. Since there was still a large distance between her and the crest, she aimed for the Colchis Bull's weak spots, piercing through its armor, and relishing in the wail of pain and anger. She spun the bow and it became her necklace again. As she got even closer, she twirled the gold ring on her finger and readied her axe for battle. There were cries of relief from the other campers when they saw the blinding glint of her ax's blade.
"Border patrol, to me!" Clarisse La Rue shouted, playfully knocking her shoulder against Colette's. The two girls shared exhilarated looks. It had been a while since they fought together — they were always paired up together during past camp activities because of how well they did with each other. They both shared an incredible amount of anger, one they knew how to use. They could shape it into whatever weapons they desired and take down anything that even thought about crossing their path.
The two girls did well together. They fought back to back like a tornado in the wind. Where Clarisse struck with her broken spear, Colette defended her without hesitation. And where Colette struck with her golden axe, Clarisse defended her without question. They worked like a well-oiled machine. They tried their hardest to defend their warriors, too. But it wasn't easy when they were all running amuck, trying not to be burned by the breath of the Colchis Bulls.
Clarisse started yelling again, commanding the border patrol to get into phalanx formation. The few that were listening lined up to her left, Colette being the only one she could trust on her right. Colette had picked up a shield from the ground, locking it with the line to form an ox-hide-and-bronze wall, the warriors' spears and Colette's axe bristled over the top. Unfortunately, there were only six other campers who had the gall to stand in the demanded formation, not including the War and Sun's daughters.
Annabeth suddenly ran toward one of the other bulls, the one with a silver arrow sticking from its hind leg, nearly taking Colette's focus, but with a kick to her Achilles heel from Clarisse, she snapped back in attention. She could still hear her smart girl taunting one of the bulls, getting it to chase her rather than the injured campers, turning invisible to confuse it.
The other bull charged at the line.
The bull moved deadly fast for something so big. Its metal hide gleamed in the sun. It had fist-sized rubies for eyes, and horns of polished silver. When it opened its hinged mouth, a column of white-hot flame blasted out.
"Hold the line!" Clarisse bellowed. If there was one thing about her that everyone at camp knew, it was that she was made to be a War Commander. It was something Colette told her all the time, and made her blush furiously. She was one of the bravest girls to ever live at camp. She was a tall and muscular girl with cruel eyes like her father. While Ares had flames in his eye sockets, Clarisse had eyes as dark as burnt wood — deep and malevolent. She looked like she was born to wear Greek battle armor.
