Chapter Text
Clarisse sighed contentedly as she wrapped up the tour of camp to the four new Ares campers.
“And we have Capture the flag in five days, just in time for you to learn combat hands on. Meet me at the training arena tomorrow after breakfast.”
And with that, Clarisse left the four new campers standing alone.
“Nice greeting from her,” A young boy muttered.
“Shut up Max.”
“Shut up Meline.”
The four new campers stood facing their cabin hesitantly.
Clarisse stomped back outside, “What are you guys doing outside? COME IN! DON’T TELL ME YOU’RE SCARED OF STEPPING THROUGH A DOOR!”
Max whispered to the others, “I feel so welcomed.”
“Course you do,” a guy who introduced himself has Aaron replied.
They grimly followed Clarisse inside the dark Ares Cabin.
“I want to do sword fighting already,” Max said.
Clarisse gave him a pointed look, “You. There.”
Max followed to where she pointed.
A wooden framed bed was placed at the corner of the room.
Her councillor continued to assign beds to the remaining campers before fixing them a stern glare, “Rules. No disturbing my sleep or I'll chop your head off. You hear me? No roughhousing past ten at night. Treat others respectfully. No killing each other. No bullying. We didn’t suffer through a war just so that you guys can bully each other all day.” Clarisse observed them, “Lastly, do not annoy or piss off Annabeth Chase. She will also kill you.”
The new campers nodded, “Yes Clarisse,” they replied quickly.
Clarisse finally smiled for the first time, “HOWEVER. Please do piss off Jackson for me. You’ll earn my respect for that. Just leave him alone when the seas get too violent”
Meline tilted her head, “What does that mean?”
“Watched the orientation video?”
“What?”
Clarisse groaned, “Gods, they didn’t update it. Don’t mess with Chase and Jackson when they are in a mood or the whole camp will be destroyed.”
“What?”
Clarisse slammed a fist on the wall, “They have it hard. Harder than most of us. They went to hell.”
The other girl standing next to Meline spoke up, “That doesn’t explain anything.”
Their councillor snapped at them, “They jumped into Tartarus and I will too if you guys stop asking obvious questions!”
What Clarisse said wan't obvious at all but Max knew better to argue back.
The four of them exchanged careful glances.
“Off you go … remember the rules I told you and you will be fine.”
Max wanted to go home already.
Oh wait … he was an orphan.
Max had barely finished his breakfast when a couple of other Ares kids joined him.
“New camper! I’m Sherman Yang, you?”
Max removed his gaze from the plate of pancakes sitting in front of him, “Max Aswell.”
“Good with a sword? Done any practice yet?”
“No. I just got here last night.”
Sherman smirked, “We got a game in four days. Better get ready. Clarisse is teaching lessons. D’she tell you that?”
“Yeah.”
“Honestly,” Sherman started, “I think Clarisse is pretty powerful considering she can kick Jackson’s ass from time to time.”
Max pushed his plate forward and rested his elbow on the table, “Who’s Jackson? I keep hearing his name everywhere I go.”
Sherman scowled, “It’s just this punk who is pretty much a legend himself. Carried the sky and all. Everyone loves him, probably.”
“What about you?” Max questioned.
Sherman shifted his focus somewhere else, glancing towards another part of the dinning pavilion. Curiously, Max followed his line of sight to see what caught Sherman’s attention.
Seated alone at the corner was a young man, likely around eighteen. His jet-black hair framed his face, partially obscuring his intense sea green eyes. He was dressed in a tattered camp shirt and faded jeans. His posture was tensed and guarded, shoulders tight with eyes fixed intently on his plate of blue waffles.
“Who is this?” Max whispered.
“The guy in question, Percy Jackson.”
Max nodded once, “He looks older compared to the rest of the camp. It’s mostly kids here.”
Sherman laughed, “Good observation kid, Jackson is probably one of the oldest campers here, along with Clarisse and Annabeth Chase. They were here since it all started.”
“What started?”
Sherman turned back to him, “How old are you again?”
Max sighed, “Fourteen.”
“Lucky you,” Sherman replied, “Living peacefully as a fourteen-year-old. Clarisse had to fight ever since she reached her pre-teen years. Maybe younger, when they had to fight their way into camp. Now you guys have the gods watching your back,” Sherman finished bitterly, “Thanks to Jackson. Again.”
“That guy you mean … did all these things? Huh. He doesn’t look that impressive. Just gloomy.”
Sherman waved him off, “He’s a child solider like the rest of us. He’s got the right to be depressed. But yeah.”
Max settled himself on against the tree while his cabin councillor dumped a couple of wooden swords onto the grass below.
“Grab a sword and pair up,” Clarisse barked.
Max felt his legs automatically lead himself to Meline who apparently had the same conclusion.
He didn’t know anyone besides Meline, who was with him when he faced imminent danger of being ripped apart by cyclops. Together they travelled with another satyr and reached sanctuary.
Then someone else stepped into the training area swinging a bronze sword dramatically by his side and levelled it at Clarisse with a smirk.
His once dark eyes had faded to a playful sea green, hair no longer framing over them.
“Came out of that shell, Jackson?”
He grinned, twirling his blade, “What? Prepared to get wiped out in front of new campers?”
“Shut up Jackson and get on with the demonstration.”
Max thought they guy just wanted to beat up Clarisse for attention. He knew that Clarisse is one of the best fighters in camp and seeing a random guy challenging her like that troubled him in a way his pride in his cabin was wounded.
Who was he to challenge the great Ares cabin like that. He bet this guy was just a random child of a minor god who just wanted some drama.
That was until Max saw his skill.
He watched as a series of slashes and strikes followed, each aimed direct and precise. Clarisse fought like a monster, using brute force and aggression to challenge Jackson. Her spear grazed the side of Jackson’s shoulder and the crimson oozed down the side of his arm, reflecting like a ruby gemstone as the sun lit the side of his face.
Jackson glanced at wound and his grin grew even wider.
“I see you have been practising hard Clarisse.”
“I see you have gone sloppy Jackson. What? Being couped up inside your cabin took your skills away?”
Jackson held her blazing gaze and spoke to the crowed, “I’ll show you a disarming technique that could get your opponent down within seconds.”
“Oh yeah?” Clarisse seethes, “Show.”
A blur of motion followed, and Clarisse was pinned to the ground.
“WHAT WAS THAT?” She howled.
Max glanced around the other newer campers who stared in shock.
“Disarming technique requires precision and illusion. The angle matters when you thrust your weapon into the exposed area. Twisting it slightly helps.”
Then Jackson proceeded to show his move on Clarisse slower, explaining each step clearly.
Despite the skill and power Percy Jackson wielded, Max couldn’t comprehend how the things he’s heard were true.
Falling into hell? Carrying the sky? Leading wars?”
They were in a summer camp, making everything said was physically impossible.
Oh wait … Max was a son of the Greek God Ares … that should be impossible too.
Jackson flashed a smirk at his direction and stalked off.
“Quite an exit,” Meline said.
“He can’t be that good. Its physically impossible. Carrying the sky? What, the sky? Like the sky that’s few hundred million distances away?” Max tried to convince himself.
Meline whispered, “He was so good at sword fighting though. Maybe the stories we’ve heard about him were true.”
“And falling into hell? I bet that was just some weird dark place that people exaggerate,” Max continued, saying this to no one in particular.
“Ares kid,” a daughter of Demeter interrupted, “My councillor said it was all true. He led two wars and survived Tartarus, a prison where monster dwell and torments defeated titans.”
Max straightened himself and seized a wooden sword as it could prove his point.
“I bet anyone could have survived. It’s just monsters. We all fought one before, when we made our way into Camp. It’s probably nothing special. Plus, this could all just be made up for attention. You see the way he holds himself? It’s like he thinks he defeated Kronos himself!”
The campers who overheard him stared at him menacingly.
Clarisse marched her way over, “What did you say?”
“Percy Jackson. What’s his deal?”
Clarisse glared, “What’s your point?”
“Everyone is worshiping like he’s a legend. I don’t get it. All I see is him swinging a sword like he’s bored and sulking.”
Max’s cabin councillor barked out a laugh, “You’re lucky Annabeth isn’t here or you’ll lose a limb before you could even breathe out help. Percy did defeat Kronos himself through Luke…”
Someone else piped up from somewhere further away, “Technically Luke wasn’t a camper after he betrayed us.”
“Thanks for the reminder, MALCOLM,” Clarisse snarled, “Now get in your positions and no more discussing about Jackson. If you’re so curious, go ask him yourself.”
All his life Max had been undermined and manipulated by others. The constant sense of being treated less than others left a scar on his mental health and never truly disappeared.
Now, whenever seeing Percy Jackson, it dug up memories of the times when he was still able to go to school, memories of the popular schoolboys that ruled the social hierarchy of their year.
Desperate to fit in, Max offered everything he had to be accepted by them. He would offer them his lunch money, money he’d earned through inconvenient jobs like mowing the neighbour’s lawn, washing cars, and help with chores. He was so absorbed in his eagerness to belong in a group that never wanted him that he mentally lost himself and physically, his mother in the process.
It was until the tragedy struck that Max was finally able to understand that he was manipulated all along.
There were an explosion and his life shattered.
It all started with fireworks. Beautiful and harmless.
Max had offered his money to the popular boys who then decided to host a firework party within the school.
It was the huge secret they kept and when they let Max in on that knowledge, he was overjoyed and offered even more of his dedication and loyalty to them.
Max paid for the fireworks, knowing full well that one misshapen he could be expelled for life.
It was planned well.
At night, where the school was empty.
Which meant only misbehaving students who broke into the school facilities.
No supervision.
Max didn’t know the party was hosted by students only.
So, he went … with his mother who dropped him off at school.
And the chaos that ensued was nothing like the magic in Harry Potter; these fireworks quickly became uncontrollable and deadly. It rained down them like comets and meteors hurtling towards them.
Paralysed by fear, Max found himself in the hitting range.
But then he wasn’t. His world spun as a force shoved him out of the way, narrowly escaping the full blast of the monstrous fireworks.
Glass shattered and flew like daggers, peeling into his own flesh while he watched in agony as the firework burned his mother alive right before his eyes.
From then on, Max could only see the worst in everyone.
“EARTH TO MAX?”
Max rubbed his eyes and focused on the blob of brown hair hovering over him.
“Meline?”
“We have campfire now. You excited?”
Max sighed, “I shouldn’t participate, I don’t like fires.”
Meline sighed, “Loosed up Max, we’ve finally got a home, a new family. No more dangers.”
Max followed her and seated himself on one of the logs, picking up a stick to toast his marshmallow. He glanced around the campfire, filled with laughter and warmth. The two other new Ares campers joined them and stuffed handfuls of marshmallows into their mouths.
That was what a campfire was supposed to be.
Harmless and enjoyable.
Max hated every second of it.
He could visualise the burning flesh of his mother, withering on the floor while he fought consciousness. He could see his classmates tripping over bushes as they sprinted away from the school.
He could smell the thick smoke that filled the atmosphere. With each desperate breath, it seared his throat and burned his lungs, an intense ache built in his chest. The laughter of camp turned into taunts of loss and sorrow, a reminder of what he could have if his mother was still alive. He could vividly remember his muffles cries vibrating in his ears as he stared helplessly at his mother who’s searing blue eyes turned ablaze at the reflection of the flames.
Max clutched his head, overwhelmed by the intensity of his vivid memories.
And he wasn’t wrong.
Sitting around the campfire Max could register it clearly as the trees went up in flames.
Suddenly he couldn't distinguish the difference between past and present.
Flames danced through the forest like a bloodthirsty monster, ready to thrust Max back into his moments of grief.
In the middle of it all was the campers, unaware that the flames had reached out to the sky.
Then it the excitement died down.
Campers were suddenly in defensive positions, weapons out and stance rigid.
Clarisse barked out, “What in the Hades happened?”
The entire Hephaestus cabin was in flames.
"LEO VALDEZ! THE FIRE! WHAT ARE YOU EXPERIMENTING NOW?" A voice yelled.
The flames had slithered towards the campfire and unleashed a string of chaos and confusion.
Max stood paralysed as the flames and smoke slowly engulfed him.
Flashes of his mother smiling at him.
Fireworks exploded overhead raining down at him.
Glass pierced through his skin as the windows shattered.
Max’s world darkened as he cried out.
A tree snapped and came barrelling down on Max who remained still in the midst of chaos.
“Get some buckets!” someone bellowed.
“MAX!” a female voice screamed.
He couldn’t turn his head in the fraction of the second as the tree struck him down.
Amidst the turmoil, a thunderous yell echoed throughout the camp and instantly silencing everyone.
Max, disoriented couldn’t make out the words as he lay on the soft grass with a massive tree trunk as his night blanket.
Hidden beneath the fallen tree leaves, Max glimpsed streams of water flying in all directions, droplets glinting like sapphires.
A figure strode boldly into the writhing firestorm, and it seemed like time has stopped. The figure faced him with such power radiating off him in waves as a towering wave surged skyward, slowly morphing into a hurricane that sliced through the sea of fire, extinguishing the serpentlike flames that threaten to destroy camp … and Max’s sanity.
The imposing figure moved like water, reaching Max effortlessly without hesitation. It looked like he was just a strolling in the park. The figure then lifted the heavy trunk and dragged it aside, freeing Max from the crushing weight on his legs. Max gazed up at the figure, seeing a familiar face as he firmly grasped Max on the arm, hauling him upright.
“I’m sorry,” Max murmured.
His brown eyes promptly met sea green ones and then passed out from exhaustion.