Jack gulped down a cold bottle of beer, the refreshing, unique taste bringing life to his parched, dry throat. Alcohol was prohibited in camp, which was ironic as the Camp Director was the God of Wine, but that didn't stop the Sons of Hermes from smuggling it over the borders. What did you expect from a camp of hormonal teenagers with ADHD?

'Just how do they pull it off?', He thought, as he sneaked in another gulp before turning his eyes back to the tall trees of the North woods. Probably due to their lineage - Hermes was the God of thieves too.

They had useful abilities. More useful than his at the very least. All he could do was make plants grow faster. Life was unfair. He and his cabin mates were indeed more than just glorified farmers, but their powers merely extended to telekinetically moving plants around. He was still better off than the children of Dionysus though. A thought that made him feel a little better.

He was comfortably resting on his favourite rock next to the stream that broke off from Zephyros creek. The gurgling water soothed his ears and the alcohol went to work. His eyes glazed over and his eyelids drooped. A pillow would've been grea-

*CREAK*

He jerked awake and instinctively flung the beer bottle away. Getting caught lazing about was one thing and getting caught lazing about while drinking was something else. He was on 'patrol'. The camp didn't really need patrolling as there was a magic barrier around it but he wasn't here to keep monsters out. He was here to make sure that no unusual monsters were prowling about for Capture the Flag tomorrow. It was a dull job, but better than having to scrub dishes with the Harpies.

*CREAK*

Something, no, someone was making their way toward him, but he wasn't all that afraid. He was a Son of Demeter. Being next to plantlife was the best place he could be. He was one of the oldest in camp too, being 17 years old, thus had his fair share of monster encounters. A blade of grass near him extended, placing a leaf-shaped blade in his hand as the organic-plant straps of his bronze armour automatically adjusted. The trees whispered to him, telling him exactly where the intruder was.

*CREAK*

The sound rang out once more and a lone figure stumbled out from behind a tree; its clothes were torn and muddied and its arm hung limply at its side.

Jack lowered his sword in surprise and his eyes widened. It was a kid, presumably a demigod. Nothing else could get through the camp's defences without express permission. He ran forward and grabbed the half-blood who promptly collapsed in his arms and winced when his left arm was nudged. He looked half-dead, his coppery skin smeared with dirt, black hair completely messed up and blue eyes scrunched up in pain.

"Mon..mons...Monster!", he whispered and passed out, leaving a confused Jack and an even more confused forest.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

***

The moment Athos came to his senses he was met with a pair of intense brown eyes. He jerked backwards restraining himself from summoning Leviathan.

"Ah! I seem to have startled you, young one. You needn't worry. I'm not going to hurt you", the owner of eyes, a middle-aged man in a wheelchair, spoke. His brown hair was thinning and his scruffy beard coupled with his warm eyes gave him a kindly look. His legs were covered in a blanket, revealing the tips of his black shoes. "I'm Chiron. I'm sure you've got a lot of questions Mr....?

"Athos...and where...where am I?", Athos hesitantly replied, looking around him, playing dumb. He was comfortably seated in a deck chair on a large, fancy porch, gazing across a meadow at green hills in the distance. The air smelled of strawberries and smoke.

He looked down, finding his torn clothes gone, replaced with a clean orange shirt and blue pants. He closed his eyes, making sure his connection to Perastos still existed. He'd worn the spare clothes in his watch when he entered camp as he knew something like this would happen. Perastos could just disappear into his body. It was a handy ability but one that would leave him defenceless.

He winced when his left shoulder smarted. Damn Arion! All he'd asked for was to be thrown about a bit to look the part of a roughed-up, lost demigod, but the trigger-happy horse took it too seriously. Didn't Arion know that he was a God!

"Jack did tell me you were injured. Here, drink up!", Chiron said, pulling a glass of nectar from seemingly nowhere.

"W..what is that?", Athos shrank back, warily staring at the golden liquid.

Chiron's eyes gained a hint of sadness, "It's nectar, child. The Drink of the Gods. It'll heal your wounds"

"The Gods? They're real too?! I thought it was only the monsters....", Athos murmured, accepting the glass with the golden liquid with trembling hands. He took a sip and fake tears welled up in his eyes. He'd always been good at acting.

Chiron's face filled with even more sympathy.

"We have a lot to talk about, young one."

***

You can never appreciate something unless you see it in person. That saying perfectly described what Athos was going through right now. He'd read about Camp Half-blood being big, but it was really huge!

The Big House, the house he woke up in, was enormous. Four stories tall, sky blue with white trim. Next to it was the volleyball pit, filled with enthusiastic campers smashing the poor ball with their superhuman strength, releasing small 'booms' every time their palms smacked into it. It was a surprise that it hadn't burst yet. He even spotted Jack, the camper who'd brought him in, reading a book written in Greek, next to another camper.

"Are they all like me?", Athos asked, playing the part of an excited child as best he could. Chiron had told him all about Gods, demigods and all that jaaz. It bored him to death, but he hung on to every word. One could always miss interesting information.

"Of course! Some may even be your brothers and sisters, provided your godly parent claims you", Chiron answered, now standing beside Athos in his centaur form. He was a pure white stallion, but where his neck should be, was the upper body of a man.

"But if all the Gods are siblings, aren't all of them my cousins?"

"Oh! And that's the tree that protects the Camp", Chiron seemed to turn hard of hearing, pointing at a large pine tree in the distance.

"A newcomer Chiron? He's underdetermined, isn't he? We'll need more sleeping bags", a voice suddenly sounded behind them.

Athos turned around and froze.

A guy that looked about sixteen stood with his arms crossed. He wore an orange shirt, had short, close-cropped sandy hair, was tall and muscular and looked abnormally handsome. Five differently coloured beads hung around his neck and brown sandals covered his muddy feet. The lazy smile he wore could've lit a dying star, or so anyone would've thought if they didn't know who he was.

It was Luke Castellan.

The man he had to kill.