thirty-one

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edited: april 7, 2021
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"The tournament starts tomorrow," Grover says, walking into the Poseidon cabin, "We have to watch. I've picked out different spots in each location with the best view, so we'll get to see everything really nicely!"

Percy takes a sharp inhale of breath, gently bumping a pillar of wood with his fist as he realizes that he forgot to tell Grover, "Uh, yeah, about that."

"What?" the satyr asks, oblivious.

"I signed up for the tournament," Percy informs, slowly, and Grover smiles.

"Really? Nice!"

"No, G-man, not good! I don't know what I was thinking!" Percy exclaims, running a hand through his hair with wide eyes.

The satyr furrows his eyebrows, "Then back out."

"I can't back out! It's tomorrow and people are now expecting me to compete!"

Grover stares at his best friend, the boy frantic and pacing back and forth, "You are so confusing." Percy doesn't respond— he just groans and flops onto his bed. A knock on the wood of the cabin's entrance catches the boys' attention, and they turn to Annabeth.

"Hey," she greets, stepping in, "I just now saw that you signed up."

"I'm wishing I didn't."

She tilts her head, a light frown on her face, "Why?"

Percy sighs, sitting up on the mattress and bringing his knees to his chest, "There's no chance I'm gonna do well. I'll just embarrass myself." Annabeth and Grover share a look before turning back to Percy.

"Look, Perce," the satyr says, "You're gonna be fine, alright?"

"You killed a Minotaur," Annabeth starts.

Grover adds on: "Beheaded Medusa —"

"— won against Luke and me in a fight —"

"— saved Olympus —"

"— not to mention the world —"

"— and got the best person in camp as your personal trainer."

"You'll be fine," they finish in unison, and Percy groans, the thought of (Y/N) bringing him the opposite of comfort. Guilt and sorrow flood him as he rethinks his words to her from three days ago.

Suddenly and inexplicably, they vanish, and a calm reassurance takes their place.

"Yeah," he says, nodding, "Yeah, I- I'll be fine."

His two friends share a quick look of surprise before Grover speaks up, "'Course you will, Perce. Annabeth and I are gonna be cheering you on from the sidelines."

"And we'll help you prepare, too," Annabeth adds, making Percy smile in thanks. "So," she says, clapping her hands together, "Day one is archery. —"

The next morning in the arena, Percy stands in a horizontal line with demigods, satyrs, nymphs, and other campers stretched out to either side or in a second line behind him, totalling seventy-three competitors. A simple target is in front of each participant, and a plain, red lightbulb rests on top of each, the color matching the circle in the target's center.

Percy stares at the bullseye in worry.

It's tiny.

"The goal is simple," Chiron starts, pacing in front of the campers and keeping his voice loud enough for those spectating. "You have ten arrows in your quiver. Hit the bullseye, and you stay in. Miss, and you're out. The top twenty will advance to tomorrow's round."

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