Chapter Text
I am stalked by a cat.
By the time I realized that, I was caught in trouble.
Honestly, I blamed it on the ADHD brain.
There’s a letter on the desk. Chiron noticed it as the dawn of the morning came. It’s plain-looking enough, sealed securely with a red stamp.
It caught him by surprise really, it has been at least a century since he last received a letter. The gods don't bother with writing, they appear as they pleased if they want to contact Camp Half-Blood, and they already rarely do that as it is. The older demigods and his own centaur cousins prefer to use Iris Message.
Nobody, no one , he knew would write.
The centaur carefully picks up the item, reading the cover before the realization hits. “ Di immortales .” He cursed under his breath. This might be the first time that he wishes this is some sort of awful prank.
Gods, he prays, please don’t let this be disastrous.
The first thing I noticed is, my dream smelled like a wet sock.
I was greeted by the feet of a Hermes’ kid when I escaped into the land of the living once again. That makes sense for the dream of being chased by the smelly minotaur, really. Under the sleeping bag, I unclench my hand, a ring of my mother still rests peacefully on my palm.
My ring glows even under little light, it usually digs into my skin for the most part of the night so it leaves an angry red circle on them for the rest of the day.
I have been doing this for almost a year, holding the ring in my sleep. It’s not for the sake of sentiment, but I need to ensure its whereabouts at all times. That’s what you get from being in Cabin 11, a cabin for the children of Hermes, the god of thieves, travelers, messengers and- , you got the drill.
Looking around the cabin, more people sleep on the floor than on the bunk. This cabin is always overfull, leaving little room to move or even walk around without hitting someone in the face. Some of them have the same locks of hair and the mischief smirks even in their sleep, the other doesn’t.
The others including me, the unclaimed children and the minor god’s. Hermes’s kids usually bicker among their siblings about how full the cabin had become when the summer arrives. I, as one of the minor god’s children, keep my mouth shut.
When I observed that most of the campers were still asleep, I sneaked out. It’s one of the benefits of being the newer campers; the newer you are, the closer you sleep to the cabin’s door. Even though I have been here for over a year, I am still grateful I get to be closer to the door than the bathroom on the other end.
I might not be a child of Hermes but I flee outside as fast as his famous shoes.
Outside, the sun greets me with a smile so bright that the sky becomes blue. I wonder if Apollo, the god of the sun himself could smile as bright, I heard from an older camper that he definitely could.
“Alexis!”
I was startled when I heard my name from the left. I’ve never gotten used to people saying my name properly ; Alexis Delaster, I predict that I never will since I spent 9 years of my life in an orphanage only to be called as ‘unfortunate’. I turned and met a boy my age, he has the brightest blue eyes and sand-color hair. I think about the father and the son suddenly appearing. Lee Fletcher, Apollo's child, waves at me from two cabins away.
“Hi.” I tried to give him a smile of my own, even though it might look like a frown. If he bothers by another failed attempt at basic socializing, he’s kind enough to not show it. He considers me a friend of his, I just am not sure about it on my terms yet.
He went back to talk to one of his younger siblings, possibly to finish the conversation and come talk to me instead.
Obviously, I bolted.
The lake is, as usual, quiet. I catch my breath once I rest completely on the dock. It’s my only favorite place at camp since not many people come here early in the morning, even the Naiads leave me alone.
Well, they do that because of who my father is.
Death, my father is the Death, people know him by many names but the demigods call him Thanatos .
Any kids would give me a curious look every once in a while and usually avoid me, it’s good since I would like to keep things to myself. There’s only a few people who seem to find me acceptable enough, like Lee or the Ares’ Cabin. I assume that their father is close to mine because the war enjoys death, and his children enjoyed winning war games with a somewhat-skilled spearman like me on their side.
But I like to be left alone more often than not. I put my bare feet into the water before looking back into my own reflection. My messy black hair that ties into loose ponytail are rippling on the water, blurring other fragments of my face. My cheeks have a slight sign of sunburn. As a recently-turned-eleven-year-old, I think I look older than most. Maybe it’s the eyes. I seem to have permanent eye bags, can’t really tell for sure if it’s a common thing for Thanatos's child (since I am his only child in this half century as far as I know) or just because of the lack of sleep in general.
I looked closely until my nose touched the cold water. I would let my whole body drift under the waves if I hadn't heard a voice calling me from behind.
“Alex?” I turned back to see a girl, a year younger than me, her hair blonde with storm-color eyes. Her posture is authoritative and confident. Even though she’s younger, the girl had been hanging around here long before I first arrived. I could hardly know what she thinks of me, most Athena’s are like that, always calculating, planning.
But since she knows that I’d be here when I’m sure nobody does (I mean you, Lee.), I suspect that Athena's kids might think ahead way too often.
She eyes me curiously as I try to stabilize my stances on the ground.
“Yes?”
“Chiron called for you, Big House.”
“Oh,” I haven’t been called to the Big House often so the random Tuesday definitely surprised me. “Uh. Thanks Annabeth.”
She nods politely before walking away to the Cabins. Then, when she’s out of sight, I started to walk to the Big House on my own. I didn't expect what would hit me when I arrived there.
It’s not even nine in the morning, yet. So most campers would still be in the Mass Hall, eating breakfast before the day finally began.
For me, I was stuck with a leopard head on the wall.
Seymour keeps me company, as much as a mammal head could, at least. It growls whenever I try to reach for a candy on the table. I’m not sure if it is because he was already traumatized from seeing demigods get high on sugar or he just likes the sound of him hunting. I fake a flinch sometimes just to make him satisfied.
Then, I heard the sound of the centaur long before he appeared. Chiron normally would be in his enchanted wheelchair when he’s in the Big House. But it seems like the low ceiling is the least of his worries. My guts turned upside down when I realized what he worries about that he can’t even sit is me .
Even though I could not think of a single thing I have to be worried about, I squirm on my seat uncomfortably at the thought. “Hello, Chiron.”
He smiles at me, showing his white teeth. I always like his smiles, it’s what I first noticed about him, well, aside from his half horse body. This time, the endearment in his eyes was replaced by his tiredness. “Good morning, Alexis.”
Chiron gave me an item, a letter cover. It has already been opened. I frowned, unsure of what’s happening. “Who is it for?”
“You.”
“Me?” I repeated, unexpectedly. I, like most demigods, am dyslexic, so I didn’t even try to read it at first. And again, I don’t know anyone who would write to me. I don’t know anyone outside the camp who would bother to.
For the first time, I had my hope up. My cheeks hurt in a way that it didn’t bother me one bit, I even forgot about Chiron’s serious look when I tried to make out each letter. My fingers repeatedly feel the curve of the red stamp on the other side. I hope it will be my last name on the sender’s.
It doesn’t have the name of the sender. I squeezed my eyes, just to make sure I didn’t miss anything. The letter neatly said:
Ms. A. Delaster,
The floor of Cabin 11,
Half-Blood Hill,
Long Island, New York
“What?” I blurted. The floor of Cabin 11? Who would know that? I might have question marks on my face so Chiron grabbed my shoulders just to gain my full attention. On the other hand, I see what I suppose, the letter. My letter .
“I apologize for intruding on your privacy. But as you can see,” He pauses for a bit before, “this is not a normal letter.”
My curiosity peaks up, I almost grab the letter myself just to read before Chiron offers to read for me. Yeah, that makes sense. I nod eagerly. The letter said:
Dear Ms. Delaster,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31st July.
Your sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
“W- Witchcraft and wizardry?” I repeat just to make sure I didn’t just make that up, when the centaur didn’t respond. I said, “Chiron, isn’t this a scam?”
I don’t know what I whisper at the last word, but still. And Hogwarts? It sounds like a fancy alternative name for Hogwood, a pig disease. I thought the scam was supposed to look real. I told Chiron so, he doesn’t look amused but looks like he just aged ten years.
So, I know that I shouldn’t be, too. I bite the inside of my cheeks.
“Alexis,” He sighs before finally taking his seat on the wheelchair in the corner of the room. “The first time you heard about us, the Gods, demigods, you didn’t believe it either.”
“But I do, now.” I look at him, pointedly. I could feel my palms start to sweat, ignoring it. “Because I am one of them, I’m a demigod, right?”
“Yes. But you should know that we aren’t the only ones who exist. I’m not allowed to tell you about the others, I already gave the oath.” I could hear the thunder from afar even though the sky outside doesn’t even have a single cloud. Nobody talks about the oath just to joke about something, my shoulders tense.
“The witches, or wizards, have been descendants of Hecate for thousands of years.” He began slowly. “The other gods weren't interested in them as much as other mortals, they rejected the mortal’s society as a whole, just to live in their own community.
“They worship magic, it’s not what the Olypians could provide. The Gods lost interest in them over time when their little community began to expand on its own. They, sometimes, forgot about their existence since there's little to no connection anymore.
“Well, until you.” He smiles, softly. I shudder into my bones.
When I was first introduced to the world of the Gods, what I once believed was just a myth. I tried to force my way out a few times. I don’t believe in any of that, the world taught me enough that I can’t trust anyone except myself. I tried to go out, live normally like everyone else and maybe be happy.
I can’t even come to terms with being what I am now, a daughter of the Death, even after a year.
I can imagine what the other kids would be when they heard this news, the excitement, the laughter, they would giggle about it and then forget about it after since it’s obviously a joke or a scam. I don’t have the privilege of believing something like that.
Once again, the Fates force me to be more of a freak than I already am.
“So you mean, I’m really a witch?” I am perplexed, a demigod, a witch, the rejected. I swallow my thick saliva– it tastes salty just like a sign before the vomit would hit, I have no idea how to feel about this. I could tell that Chiron waits for me to say something. But something else beats me to it.
I could feel the aura of death, of something that was supposed to be dead as I heard the squeeze of the wood stairs. The one that led to the attic, Luke told me once that they only keep ancient garbags that sentiment to Mr. D on there. I want to slap myself in the face just so I could believe him again.
The oracle, Chiron blurted out, I think this mummified oracle doesn't do catwalk often because he sounds amazed. The green cloud came out of its mouth, I could feel the room have been a thousand times scarier than ten seconds ago. Chiron mumbles something that I couldn’t quite hear, before I could do something else, the voice came through.
You shall ramble, the land of Angles awaits
Death shall lend the clue, the lacu seeks your aid.
The lover, the snake shall be your greatest friend.
The cursed chain, then, shall cure the weald’s pain.
“A prophecy.” Chiron said, but I know what he actually means:
My prophecy.
I puked into the candy bowl. Seymour makes some noise from afar, I think he just laughs.
The rest of the day has been a blur. I went to archery class along with Chiron at noon and got excused to go to the infirmary because a bored Ares’ kid said that I looked like an expired green apple. I told her I felt like one, too, right before the sharpened end of her arrow accidentally stabbed me on the side. When you got stabbed in that area, it felt more like a really intense punch rather than a sharp sensation. I slept through lunch and dinner; when I finally woke up, there’s two tuna sandwiches on the side table. I think it’s Lee because I caught a glimpse of his blue eyes earlier before went back into darkness.
Because of the fill of sleep I had, I didn’t feel like going back to it. I look at the white ceiling of the infirmary. For the first time in a while that I slept on the actual bed, I can’t seem to stop the train of thoughts. I sat on the mattress to only see that I’m the only one in the room.
Even though I haven’t been eating all day, I don’t have the appetite. I look around to find a clock on one side of the wall, it’s been two hours since curfew. Half a day has passed and I still have the disgusting bitter taste on the back of my throat.
Chiron told, or demanded, for me to not talk about any of what happened this morning to anyone else. Not the letter, not the horrifying mummified Oracle, and definitely not the prophecy. He said to not overthink about it, yet. But I know that I should be, the two must be related because the Oracle wouldn’t be this eager to join in the conversation and tea time.
My fingers play a bead on my camp necklace mindlessly. The gold band ring I wear on my thumb reflects the moonlight. My shoe and leather jacket rested on the chair beside the bed, I could see the letter on the inner pocket.
I don’t know what I was thinking at the moment, I put the jacket on. It’s oversized, so it doesn’t really fit on the shoulders, but it’s comfortable to wear so I bear with it. I wrapped the sandwiches in paper, and put them in the empty side-pocket.
A second later, Nobody is in the room, only shadow and darkness.
When I opened my eyes again, I was in the cemetery. Long Island National Cemetery, to be exact. I felt like the jacket had weighed a hundred pounds just in the split second. Shadow travel is one of the perks of being the child of the Underworld deities. However, it left me extremely fatigued.
Bless Lee and his almighty tuna sandwiches.
I took a bite, it doesn’t energize me as much as Ambrosia does, but I will live. Meanwhile, the wind was dancing around my torso, many ghosts I could summon for an answer.
A voice in my head told me to go back to camp, it isn't safe here. Another voice eagerly supports the fact that Mr. D will punish me for cleaning the toilet for months if he knows I’m outside unpermitted.
I shush those voices. It’s stupid, the lack of plan and the stupidity of blind determination that I have right now. I normally don’t act fast on my impulse, I am always calm, an observer, a strategist to act only when the time is right.
But now, I’m summoning a ghost.
Aside from the shadow traveling, I have some ability in the area of necromancy, limited. I put the untouched tuna sandwich on the ground in front of the headstone. I chanted to my father. It’s weird really how Lee gets to chant to his father for healing ability, but I do it and get the souls of dead people.
I think about Lee too much. I will stop now. I shake my head slightly, just enough not to look like a lunatic in front of a ghost.
“What do you want this time?” The ghost asks, the annoyance clears in his tone. He looks around 20 years old, his skin appearing in glowing silver at night. He has this ruckish look, a 5 o’clock shadow on his face. I noticed how he dresses in a hospital gown.
“Nothing much, Theo. I just want some information.”
“Yes, yes. I should have guessed.” He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms impatiently.
I met him two years ago, just before I finally knew my status as a demigod. I hid in this very same graveyard from a monster. I wish for anyone to help, hide me until the threat is banished. Theo took a place for that someone. I have never understood what he was when he’s alive, a demigod or only a mortal. But he understands what I am good enough that he doesn't question much. I have come to him every time I feel like I need his company, he obviously didn’t appreciate mine because he rarely answers anything without a hint of sarcasm.
The ghosts aren't scared of me like the living. Some do, to some extent because of who my father is, ghosts often said I have the same eyes as he does. His eyes are much brighter than my own amber but they said it holds the same power. But, gods, she got hatred from both the living and the dead because of that.
“Shush,” I thought of the girl Annabeth, the one I met earlier today, and tried to copy her authoritative mannerism. But it must not really succeed since the ghost still stares at me with less patience every minute. I spoke up before he decided he’s done with me for today. “Do you know anything about magic?”
Theo seemed stunned, but he recovered quick enough before replacing it with unimpressed. “What? The other kids have this horse phrase during this age, but you got the magic phrase? Please, you are already demanding enough as it is.”
“It’s not a phrase and I’m not- not that .” I feel my cheeks turn hot, I feel the letter in my inner pocket fall heavily. “Just, take this seriously.”
“Take what seriously? Magic? ” He mocked.
I groan, I know he must know something. The gossip flew easily around the dead, they would be the most successful communicating system for how fast the information ran, if not for Hermes Express. If Chiron was right and he wasn't just trying to prank me, there must be something I could get out of Theo.
“Fine. Just tell me what you know about Hogwarts, then.”
“Hogwarts.” That got me a genuine response, he seemed surprised while he floated around my body. I feel like he’s judging me, even though it doesn’t differ from how people look at me. I make an effort to make myself small. “You don’t have an accent and you have lived in the States all your life, are you sure you didn’t mean Ilvermony?”
“Ilvon- what?”
“You mean a school, right?” He continues to float around me, seeming to be searching for something. “Hogwarts, you got a letter?”
I nod before reaching out from my pocket, he didn’t take it. Merely look at its form and mutter to himself quietly. I caught some phrases but didn’t seem to understand much.
“Dumbledore” “Surely not a slytherin.” “Oh wait, she’s here.”
Theo turns out to be in a chatty mood than usual, because after he’s done talking to himself, he even glances back at me and said: “Well, lovely visit and all. You will find what you seek in something you least expected.”
And he’s gone.
Left me alone in the dark with another puzzle to think about. Before I get to set a foot away further, Theo’s head appears in front of the stone again. “Oh, and gray. Least expected and gray.”
There is something I hate most about shadow traveling, I’m too exhausted to do it again to go back to camp immediately.
I considered sleeping in the graveyard in the meantime, but the last time I did it, a cop asked me where my parents were and tried to lock me up in the precinct until they found my mother. I was in an orphanage at the time and I didn't want to get punished for sneaking out so I knocked them in the chin and ran away. I think better of it and retreat to the first fast food restaurant in the area.
I went into Burger King and ordered some Pepsi with little money I had in my pocket. A highschool part-timer gave me an unimpressed glance, very similar to Theo but she went back to her Nokia 1100. Thankfully bored enough with life that she doesn’t even question a preteen who ran into the store at one in the morning alone.
There are plenty of empty seats, actually there is only one customer here who turns his back towards me. I went to the far opposite side near the door, looking out to catch the glowing moon. I sip the soda slowly, enjoying the sugar flowing into my blood, thinking about this morning and the letter.
The letter that is the beginning of everything.
I considered throwing it from the Brooklyn Bridge to ensure not to see it again. I wonder how the letter ended up in the Big House in the first place without the wizards knowing anything about the gods or even the very own existence of Camp Half Blood.
I don’t even know what to do from here, I don’t know what the whole ‘waiting for your owl’ is.
I cursed under my breath before looking outside. I caught the dim reflection of myself looking back from the glass, a messy excuse of the hair on my head, then I noticed something on the other side of the window.
A cat.
A silver tabby, actually. It looks in her direction as if judging. I noticed its fur around the eyes has a square tabby. Its stiff figure hurts me just by seeing it. Then, the weird feeling in the back of my neck rose up, the cold chill air suddenly reminded me of danger.
I wonder if I have finally lost it, a girl at the age of eleven sense a danger from a cat. My gut instinct told me to run immediately.
My blood runs cold as I slowly move towards the door on the other side, I try not to run to it. At the same time, I saw the cat start to move in the same direction as I did. Its movement reminds me of a hunter rather than a domestic cat.
A monster? I wonder while walking, I have met monsters before during the last two years of my life. But never once feel as threatening.
Only a few steps towards the door, the path blocked by something gigantic. I look up to see a bloodthirsty smirk on its lips. The cloth of the customer I saw earlier clung to its body. Suddenly, I noticed that the part-timer was nowhere in sight.
“Where do you think you are going, godling?”
I believe I look in the wrong way when my gut warns me of threat.