It seemed that putting Clarrise in her place had earned him extra brownie points with the Hermes Cabin. He was given a bigger spot on the floor and a comfy sleeping bag. The Stoll brothers even stole some toiletries for him which he appreciated. The Ares Cabin had a history of conducting the 'initiation' ceremony and weren't the most likeable bunch. Ares' title of the War God must've messed with their heads.

Suddenly, a horn blew in the distance.

"Eleven, Fall in!", Luke immediately yelled.

Was it dinner time already?

The twenty or so campers, Athos included, arranged themselves in the commons yard. He was supposed to be last in line as he was the newest to camp but pummeling Clarrise let him stand in the front. They marched their way to the pavilion, finding other campers coming out from their cabins led by their respective counsellors. Satyrs, half-men - half goats, the protectors, trotted out from the meadows while enchanting naiads emerged from the canoe lake, their hair dripping wet. Wood nymphs melted out of the trees skipping merrily forward while the torches on the white, marble columns in the distance lit up. It was a magical scene.

Once they reached the pavilion, the campers filed into their respective tables, one for each Cabin, covered in white cloth with purple trim. A burning bronze brazier sat in the centre, its hypnotizing flames curling about.

He even spotted Chiron, standing beside table twelve, next to two boys he presumed were the Sons of Dionysus, or Mr D, the camp director. He even noticed the youngest camper, around nine years old, one he immediately recognized, sitting at table six with a bunch of serious-looking kids with stormy grey eyes. Her honey-blonde hair was tied into a ponytail while her eyes scanned the crowd, as though taking in every single detail. It was Annabeth aka Wise Girl aka the future architect of Olympus. The female lead of the book series he'd been transmigrated into and one he did not want to meet.

Jake, the camper who'd brought him in, sat at the head of the Demeter Cabin. He had dark, chocolatey curls, a powerful lean build and bright green eyes, as if a plant was hidden behind his irises. He gave Athos a grin and a wave before switching back to counselor mode. Athos waved back but frowned when he had absolutely no recollection of Jack being in the books. Either he was completely sidelined or had died before the plot started.

Clarisse sat on the table behind him, staring daggers at his back. Her friends, who were equally big and ugly, gave her looks of pity. Getting disrespected by a newbie couldn't possibly feel nice.

Finally, Chiron pounded his hoofs on the marble floor and everyone fell silent. He raised an empty glass in the air.

"To the Gods!", he proclaimed, and everyone followed suit.

"To the Gods!", a hundred campers yelled.

Wood nymphs came forward with platters of food: grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread and barbecue. Buttery rolls, pudding, cake, roasted potatoes and pineapple.

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"Here you go Athos", Connor said, passing him a platter of roasted meat.

"Thanks", Athos replied, getting up and moving toward the central fire like everybody else.

Luke tossed a cluster of grapes in the brisket and muttered, "Hermes"

Annabeth did the same, scrapping in a juicy roll and so did every other camper, throwing in large portions of their food in the flame as a sacrifice to the Gods. The immortals liked how the smoke smelled or something like that. He never really understood their fascination with it,

Athos emptied half his plate in the fire, and mentally spoke out the immortals' names.

"Demeter, Hephaestus, Herakles", he muttered. Herakles for being the best Godly father one could ever hope for, Hephaestus for Perastos and Demeter for helping him out. She was the reason why nobody had spotted Leviathan and his Oni Tattoo.

Everyone returned to their seats and began wolfing down their meals, or what was left of them.

"You stood for quite a while there", Luke said, biting into a juicy apple.

"Didn't know who to thank", Athos shrugged, busying himself with his plate.

"If every camper really thought about it, we'd never sacrifice anything to them", Luke muttered, the bitterness in his voice evident. "But I'll prove myself. The Gods'll have to notice me then."

Athos raised an eyebrow. Luke didn't have the best relationship with his father, Hermes. He was neglected and uncared for. Abandoned. Forced to fight his way across the country before reaching camp. Forced to survive on his own, as a fourteen-year-old, as a demigod. All that bitterness was bottled up in him. Bitterness which would burst out when he failed the first quest he got. The quest that required him to travel to the Garden of the Herspedies. The quest for the Apple of immortality.

Luke looked at him and smiled, "Don't worry about it. The campers here take care of each other. We're like family."

Athos nodded.

***

Once everyone was done eating, Chiron pounded his hoof again.

"Well then. Since Mr D was called back to Olympus for a while, I'll be doing the introductions. Capture the flag is in about ten minutes, so I shall be brief. Cabin Five currently holds the laurels."

A bunch of ugly cheers erupted from behind Athos. It was the Ares Cabin.

"Yes, yes, congratulations. Quiet down. Now to the most important bit. We have a new camper today. One that left a lasting first impression. Athos Apsifoun."

Everybody cheered except the Ares Cabin.

"The teams for capture the fla...", Chiron's voice trailed off as his eyes landed on something at the entrance of the pavilion.

Athos turned around and felt as though he had been drenched in a bucket of cold water. A few campers were even physically shivering. The entrance that was the two large marble columns was shrouded in a sickly green mist and the lone, frail silhouette in the middle didn't make the view any less terrifying. A few seconds passed before the murky mist cleared and the campers gasped in shock.

"This is impossible," Chiron muttered as his tail flicked about nervously. "It… she has never left the attic. Never."

A withered mummy, the oracle, shuffled forward until she stood before table eleven. The table Athos was sitting at.

She wore a tie-dyed sundress, plenty of beaded necklaces, and a headband over her long black hair. The skin of her face was thin and leathery, stretched over her skull as though it was removed and shoddily wrapped back on. Her eyes were glassy white slits as if the real eyes had been replaced by marbles; One thing was clear - She'd been dead a long, long time.

"I am the spirit of Delphi", a gloomy voice echoed in their heads. "Speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python."

The Oracle regarded Athos with its cold, dead eyes. Then she turned toward him and lifted a dried, atrophied finger.

"Approach, Seeker, and ask."