I am Lucian

The First Attack

As time went on, Lucian found himself and the other Angels fall into a bit of a routine with the Campers. Wake up, eat, train, eat and relax by the bonfire, go back to training, plan (if you're a counselor) strategies, retire for the night.

While Lucian understood that normalacy was good for kids, he couldn't stop the urge that was steadily growing inside of him. The urge to just scream out how they needed to hurry up and learn how to Gods-damn fight already.

Honestly, it's been exactly two months today. That's eight weeks. Which is 56 days. 1,344 hours. 80,640 minutes-- You get the idea. Basically, Lucian was beginning to freak. Out.

It was getting harder to hide the fact that Ouranus and his army were closing in, slowly but surely. More and more monsters were managing to get in through the barrier, Thalia's tree was even beginning to die again. The golden fleece not doing anything to help it this time, for a reason that was unknown to everyone, even the kids of the Demeter cabin.

All in all, they were completely and utterly screwed.

Of course, Lucian and the others were forbidden from saying so in front of the other Campers, the Head Counselors not wanting them to get scared. Lucian thought that was the dumbest reasoning he's ever heard -something he knew the other Angel's agreed with him on, if Ri's eyeroll (that was obvious even if her face was covered) was anything to go by-, from the many years he had spent fighting in wars, he knew that sometimes fear made you battle all the more harder, made your will to win all the more stronger. Sure, sometimes it could make you jittery and drop your weapon or make you freeze up all together, but, wouldn't Annabeth and the others be willing to take the risk? For Chaos' sake, she had said at one point that she was willing to sacrifice the lives of some of the weaker Campers in exchange for victory at the very first meeting! Honestly, so hypocritical.

Y'know, Lucian, I really don't know how I feel about you using my name to criticise a poor human

Oh my Gods, Chaos, would you please just shush?

They had spent too much time trying to teach the Campers how to properly defend themselves against the enemy, months having been spent in attempts to get them to understand how to hold a sword the right and ohmygodsitisn'tthathardjustpointthesharppartawayfromyouandstab and still too many of them weren't experienced enough to be able to defend themselves against the inevitable attack.

Lucian was currently pacing through the camp, disguising his nerves by sticking to the camp borders in order to make it seem as though he were merely patrolling. He resisted the urge to run his hand through his hair, reminding himself he was wearing his hood, and therefore could not do so without pulling it down and revealing his identity.

He was yanked from his musings by a shrill scream of his name, his head snapping towards the sound of the noise before he quickly ran in the direction, the wings on his back twitching as adrenaline immediately began coursing in his veins. His hand fell to the hilt of his shoulder instinctively, the metal making a sharp schling as it was removed from its sheath.

The closer Lucian got to where the scream had originated, more and more screams became audible; all of them overlapping each other until they were a cacophony of panic and fear. The sound made Lucian's heart beat even faster than it already had been, his wings finally coming to life, fanning out behind them in their white glory. The sun shone off them brightly, almost glowing in comparison to his dark hood. With a strong flap, he was off the ground, soaring quicker to the other side of camp than he would have been able to on his feet alone.

His boots crunched leaves and twigs underfoot (although he couldn't hear over the sound of the panic surrounding him) as he landed firmly, knees bending so as to reduce the jolt of pain in his ankles. He surveyed the scene in front of him in shock for a moment.