Melancholy Kaleidescope | PJO

Ch. 3: Capture the Flag

Percy was settling nicely into the routine of camp. He had pretty much followed Jinora around the first day. He wasn't sure why, but he felt drawn to her. It didn't take long before the beginnings of a friendship bloomed.

He had learned that she was a nearly opened book. He had realized how far into her pages he could flip through when she got all closed off after he had asked her about her mom and any other family she had outside of camp. With a quick apology they moved on and her smile came back.

The second day was Luke's time to try and help him learn what he was good at. He–very quickly–learned that he was no archer, that he wasn't a blacksmith of any sorts, he wasn't good with plants, foot racing, or wrestling. He was a halfway decent cook, but there wasn't any kind of award at camp for that. The only thing he seemed to excel in was canoeing, which would be useless if Percy ever had to face another monster. Thinking about it almost made him laugh. What were the odds that a monster would find Percy canoeing threatening?

When Thursday rolled around, it was time for his first sword-fighting lesson. Everyone from cabin eleven gathered around in the circular arena where Luke was giving pointers to Percy. Everyone else had been paired off. The boy figured him being new meant he received special focus from the instructor.

Luke was a good teacher. That wasn't what the problem was. The problem was, after working on movies to stab and slash, that none of the swords felt right in Percy's hands. It wasn't just Percy who felt that way, either. Luke agreed, noting how each sword he'd handed the younger boy seemed too heavy, too, light, or too long. He eventually settled for a sword that was too light, because at least he could learn some of the basics without wearing his arm down too quickly.

As they walked back, Percy looked over and saw Jinora with her sparring partner, Monty Everest. She was an unclaimed kid closer to Luke's age, having just turned seventeen a few days before Percy arrived at camp. Monty was quiet and generally kept to herself. She was also light on her feet. Percy couldn't count on his fingers how many times in the last couple of days she unintentionally had snuck up behind him and gave him a scare. Every time she entered a room or an area, the light around her seemed to dim.

Luke showed Percy a few beginner's moves and used him for a demonstration. The older boy had planned on going easy on the newcomer, but when Percy expertly disarmed him he couldn't contain his excitement. Unfortunately, any expertise the blond may have had only lasted the moment. The boy's face flushed in embarrassment when Luke disarmed him within seconds the second time around. Percy chalked it up to beginner's luck, but he could tell a few of the surrounding campers weren't buying it.

Later in the morning, when Percy didn't have any activities, he found himself wandering back over to the lake. He walked down the dock and sat on the ledge, his legs dangling off and resting just above the water. If he angled his feet enough, his toes would touch the water.

"That was pretty cool dismantling you did earlier," a voice from behind startled him. He turned around and relaxed slightly when he saw it was Jinora. She smirked and walked the rest of the way to the edge of the dock. She took a seat next to him and crossed her legs. Her black hair was pulled back in a french braid and her loose strands brushed in front of her face with the wind. Her brown eyes squinted in the late morning sun. Percy couldn't help but notice the way her eyes took in the sunlight. He looked back down at the water as his face flushed.

"Beginner's luck," he stated again, keeping his gaze fixed on the lapping of the lake at his feet. He made eye contact with a naiad who gave him a knowing look.

Jinora scoffed. "I don't know. I've seen beginner's luck before. It doesn't look like that."

Percy just shrugged and swung his legs lightly. He wasn't sure what he thought about what happened during sword training. He couldn't explain it. Neither could anyone else, apparently.