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WELCOME TO CAMP HALF BLOOD. Try to imagine it: The season is winter, and the camp is a lush, green peephole surrounded on all sides by snowy hills. At the northernmost border, a cold gray sea crashes against the shores of the long island sound. . Smell the salty sea water, wafting from the babbling ocean. At the southernmost border, nymphs dodge nimbly through rows of strawberry trees, picking only the ripest for dinner in the great hall. In between the two is a thriving camp of the winter's remaining young heroes— running back and forth between arts and crafts and archery lessons. Their smiles are wide and distracted— but they mask hidden worry. The threat of war is approaching, and their best fighter is missing.
Zoom in farther, specifically the dock of the canoe lake, and notice the young daughter of Apollo. She's not older than 16 at this time, and she sits at the edge of the dock— one foot dangling into the water, and one (wearing a clunky brace) resting on the wood beside her. Her long dark hair gets wet, leaving her with a slight chill, as she leans over the water to stroke the back of the large (imagine roughly the size of a basking shark) koi fish that lives in the lake.
With soft, sad eyes she speaks gently to the fish, though not expecting an answer. "I bet it gets real lonely down there lobo, no fishy friends to swim with."
Try to picture now, a second person entering the scene. A small, spritely daughter of Hermes named Gracie Newman. Her long red hair swings a little behind her as she sits down on the dock.
"You must pretty lonely, Bailey," she says, a signature Hermes grin crawls up her freckled face, "Sittin' here talking to the fishes." Bailey looks as if she wants to correct the young girls grammar— but figures it was a pointless cause. In fact— she doesn't say anything.
"I miss you Bails," Gracie goes on, a whiny drawl to her voice, "I mean you, you. Smilin' and offering annoyingly optimistic advice. Oh and cussing Connor out in Spanish, that's something I'll never tire of." she then emits a girly giggle that brings a smile quickly to Bailey's face.
"I'm sorry Gracie. It's just this leg thing— it's been putting me in a grumpy mood. And your brother certainly doesn't help."
"Is that really it, Bailey?" Gracie says softly, a tone she's extra careful to use, "You know I never mean to pry, it's just that it seems like you have a lot more on your mind."
"Gaia is waking, Mija. If I'm being really honest with you- i'm terrified. We've already lost so many, lost so much. We're just kids— we're not supposed to be hero's." Bailey speaks quietly, as she stares at the surface of the lake, "Percy is missing, and Annabeth is losing her mind behind closed doors. It feels like everything is falling apart."
Gracie smiles lightly, "It's like that every year, Bailey. Every year it seems like the world is collapsing in on us, and every year Percy Jackson finds a way to save the day. Even if he doesn't show— we aren't helpless! We're a camp of trained half blood— c'mon Bailey, the blood of god's runs through our veins!" at this, she jumps up, "We can do anything we put our minds to."
Bailey, at this time, was now thinking that Gracie was much too wise for her age (and a Hermes kid, no less) and that she was right. "Quiet down, Little lion." Bailey says, a grin growing on her face. "C'mon, let's go get some dinner." and the two walk the long winding path from the lake to the mess hall, chatting absentmindedly about the summer at camp, the distant sounds of the dinner bell ringing before them.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ
THREE HOURS LATER, Connor Stoll is dodging across the volleyball court, in a massively competitive game against the Ares cabin. Though the feud between the two groups of teens had long been officially diminished— there was still an air of distaste, and a wildly competitive nature.
Connor goes to spike the ball, his face set in determination. But the hard serve from Carter Lang never meets his hand, instead it plants itself right in the middle of his face.
TWO GIANTS stand in the middle of a massive salt flat. The long flat landscape goes on for miles- or at least as far as the naked eye can stretch. One is a sickly green color, wearing a long golden toga— his black hair falls in dreadlocks down his back and his beard is the length of an average 10 year old. The second wear a plumed helmet on his head, and a feather-woven tunic. His beard is cut to stubble, but his golden-blonde hair drops even lower than the former. Unlike his fellow giant, he's almost inhumanly handsome.
"It smells like demigod!" The green-skinned giant gargles, glancing around the salt flats.
"Don't be stupid Hippo!" The other says, spitting across Hippolytus' face in the act, "Surely if demigod were around we could see them! There is no where to hide here!"
"It's Hip-poly-tus, don't be an idiot Orion! I know there is no demigod, my mind is just foggy." Orion spits again, and his burly arm swings around to punch the giant across the shoulder.
"How long do we have to stay on this stupid flat?"
"You never listen! Mother says that we must stay until our cousin Phorphadus arrives. But then again— Otis thinks he will not arrive. Two demigods will soon be sent to stop his supposedly— a son of Hermes and a daughter of Apollo." Orion's laugh is so mighty the flats around shake, cracking under the giants' feet.
"You never learn- do you brother?" he chortles, "Otis is a fool, and he always has been. These puny demigods are no match Phorphadus. I've heard that one even has an injured foot. The other is in love with the girl. You know mortals, their affairs of the heart interfere again and again. Our cousin will be along as it is planned." Orion finishes confidently. Hippolytus simply huffs, and looks around the landscape, mumbling about the lack of animals to chase and eat.
CONNOR AWAKES WITH A START. His head is pounding, and as his eyes adjust to the light, he realizes he's in an infirmary bed room. The dream he has just awoken from registers in his brain seconds later, and he utters a quiet "Well shit."
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ
WORD COUNT: 1,090 words DATE PUBLISHED: july 7th, 2018
