Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sun poured down over Long Island, and Dominik sat at the edge of the beach, eyes on the horizon. He’d been for a swim, somewhat disagreeing with the cold, but it wasn’t too bad. Most of the other campers were waking now, his early-morning habits rarely went unnoticed, but at least his own siblings left him alone. 

A black sheep in a cabin of pink and perfume, he hated it. 

Hated that of all the Godly parents he could’ve had, all the women his father could’ve picked, it would be the Goddess of Love .

Aphrodite was no joke, he’d learned he couldn’t make jokes about her, but still.

He didn’t fit with his siblings. Not one bit. Each of them seemed shiny and beautiful, pretty and smiley and then there was him. 

More similar to a crow amongst doves; he stood out not only in look but in height, towering over even the tallest of his brothers at sixteen. Strong but not the strongest, he preferred the spears and swords to his siblings’ love of the mirror. 

Since his protector had brought him here, bloodied and beaten, he hadn’t seen his father once. 

Uncertain of why, because not only was his father supposedly a good man, his father had been one of the most respected demigods around. A warrior in his own right, a son of Hermes, he had been infamous. His claims of war still lay in the attic of the Big House, though Dominik hadn’t looked upon them in years.

The mystery of where Rey Mysterio had gone was almost a faded whisper these days, only remembered when his only son wandered past bitter and quiet.

An orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt lay crumpled at his side and he frowned at the water, wondering. Posideon’s only son was still gone on his quest, Roman Reigns at eighteen, he had taken two of his cousins from Ares’ Cabin, Solo and Nia, and two more cousins and a friend from Apollo, Jimmy, Jey and Seth, as well as Dean from Nemesis, to finish this iteration of the Nemean Lion off, returning with some great trophy. He was prolific, at thirteen he had completed his first quest and each year since , had brought another great victory back to the camp. 

This was different though.

In the eight years Dominik had spent at camp (longer than anyone else currently there) nobody had ever been gone this long. 

Four months.

Fellow campers grew antsy, the Ares Cabin was on edge. Two of their siblings gone, with almost no communication in nearly a month. 

A darkness of sorts had fallen over the camp. 

“Sup,” came a familiar voice, then a boot nudged his leg, “you moping?” 

Rhea blotted out the sun, standing over him with her dark hair hanging around her face. She was smiling, familiar dark makeup on her face, and sometimes he thought it seemed strange that they were not siblings, for they looked alike as two birds from the same nest. 

Though, she superseded him with a blade. And the spear. And most weapons, unfortunately. 

That came with being a child of the Big Three.

Hades’ power radiated from her, from her very being, the world seemed a little darker around her. Others might’ve found that unpleasant, but he didn’t mind it too much. 

Darkness was rather more familiar to him, at least so more than his cabin’s bright warmth. His siblings radiated flush, laughter, fluttering heartbeats and charming smiles, and he did not. They would make sure he knew of that, too.

“Not moping,” he told her, “ relaxing.”

Relaxing in front of the ocean, his eyes occasionally focused on the Cabin 3, the seastone walls, for some weeks he’d been doing this. He wasn’t sure why, but Dominik knew something had changed recently. With the sea, with the quest perhaps, maybe even with their champion. 

Unlike Roman, a boy who seemed destined for glory, Rhea was far less fortunate. 

Yet to go on a quest, though she was sixteen, perhaps her father had not permitted the Gods to test her, but she itched for freedom, and he saw it in her eyes each day. In the way she trained, the way she hit hard, even harder than the Ares kids, the way she marched to Chiron’s door each week and pleaded to be allowed to go out on her own. 

Never, they had never let her.

Perhaps it was because of the prophecy.

Two souls alike as dark and light,

One blade to keep she will take,

Together they must fight,

Lest the earth below them break.

The day she’d came to camp, that prophecy had spewed from the corpse.

Evidently, it was about her.

A sweet soul of dark.

Whoever else, nobody knew. 

Since that day, the prophecy had been word of reason, rumour, and the source of her agonising overthinking - Rhea would talk at least once a week of that goddamn prophecy, wondering if it still even mattered . If it would even happen, or if she’d be salted here until she turned eighteen and the monsters came for her anyway. 

Dominik pulled his shirt over his head and stood, stretching slightly. “How’d you know I’d be here?” He asked, running a hand through his wet hair. 

“You come here to mope .” She poked his shoulder. “Mopey-man.” 

At sixteen, she was strong, her arms rippling with muscle, and her hair longer each day - she’d cut it off some years ago but he thought she suited it more like this. 

“I had a bad feeling.” He admitted, following her up the path towards the camp. Cabin 3 fell into the distance behind him, and he stared around the pavilion ahead of him.

Few campers were already around, awake and going about their daily business. 

Inhaling his breakfast with the usual fervour was Otis, a round boy with curly brown hair from Apollo’s Cabin, deep in discussion with one of Dominik’s half-sisters, Maxine. The pair of them were odd, friends with a speedy kid from Hermes’ Cabin, Akira, and at least he supposed he wasn’t the only odd one from his siblings. Maxine was pretty, but she seemed less bothered with that and more with helping her friends get better at fighting.

Funny, because he’d seen her drop a dulled training blade on her foot and cry.

“You always have bad feelings.” Rhea rolled her eyes, waving across the camp towards some of their friends. “Try having a good feeling, for once.”

“Okay, Princess of Darkness.” He retorted, and ducked out of her swinging fist. 

In the motion, he tripped over his sneakers and nearly went flying into the campfire, squawking and flailing until she grabbed his arm, yanking him upright.

“Dork.” 

They continued arguing all the way across the pavilion, pushing each other around and spitting insults, till they came to arrive in front of a group of familiar faces. 

Two brothers and sons of Hermes, Finn and JD, skinny and strong and always doing something wrong, were deep in discussion, arguing with each other loudly (as usual) and gesturing to each other. Ignoring them was Damian, a son of Ares and ever an intimidating figure. He had chains braided into his loc'd hair and silver piercings - even a tattoo - despite the fact he was seventeen. 

All of them together looked a bit like an angry emo band, but Dominik tried not to think about that too much. 

“Was he moping?” Damian asked. 

He frowned at Rhea, then turned to the taller kid. “I wasn’t moping!”

“He’s got a bad feeling.” She wiggled her fingers either side of his head and he batted them away, rolling his eyes. “Dom-Dom says there’s something bad on the horizon.” 

Finn laughed. “If there was a bad thing every single time you thought there was, Dom, Camp Half-Blood would be cinders and ashes, brother.”

Cinders and ashes.

In his dreams, only the skeletons of the cabins remained. 

Pillars burnt and bodies decimated, no pavilion, only crumbled marble and darkness. 

A single figure amongst the ruins.

What they meant, he didn’t know.

Not a prophet, not a son of Apollo born with the future in his eyes, he was a son of love. And that made little sense in this day and age, and even less sense with his own dreams.

Perhaps he was speaking to the Hypnos boys too much these days. His dreams haunted him like the memories of his father long gone. 

But Dominik Mysterio was not a prophet. 

Likely nor a champion, a hero.

“Whatever,” he shrugged it off, “I’m gonna go spar after breakfast.” 

JD stuck his hand up. “I’ll come!” 

Snickering slightly at the skinny guy’s enthusiasm, he nodded. 

Still, the bad feeling stayed with him. Through breakfast and the fruit he dropped into the fires, thinking of his mother for a brief second, wondering if she ever looked over him. Other children of the Goddess of Love had gifts, he thought of his younger half-sister Tiffany and the glow she carried with her wherever she went, charmspeak a blessing, or to Austin, a guy who looked more like a Ken-doll than a seventeen year old boy, his ability to swoon even the prettiest girl unparalleled.

He was less fortunate. 

No goddamn gifts, not even a little bit of that glow that fell over the kids of Aphrodite when they were claimed. Eight year old him had stood sallow and scowling, one eye shut with bruising, the symbol of love hanging over his head. Someone had laughed . 

By the time they arrived at the pantheon to practice, the skies had turned grey. Still warm, almost unpleasantly so, but the clouds were dark over Camp Half-Blood.

Rare.

Usually the whole place reflected the best of the seasons, sun in summer, delicate snow in winter, greenest of green grass in spring and leaves the colour of fire in fall. 

Not these deep grey skies.

Thung! His blade clashed against JD’s and they bounced off each other, sweat dripping down. Dominik prowled and pounced, the skinny son of Hermes was fast and quick but not as strong, so they clashed well. He reached further with longer limbs, sword dancing through the air.

For a taller guy, he was still fast. 

A few other campers were sparring, grouped off, and the pair of them darted around like moths over the flame, hardly distinguishable from second to second as they danced.

Clink! JD’s sword caught at the buckles on his trousers, metal clashing, the beads around Dominik’s neck rattling together, eight clay beads for eight years - six of them were tales of Roman Reign’s quests. One blue for the daughter of Athena, Charlotte Flair, one red for the daughter of Apollo, Becky Lynch, whose quests had gone one year after the other. 

Best friends who’d fallen apart, crumbled. He remembered Charlotte returning from her quest without her friend, they had left each other when Becky found a calling of her own. To this day, nobody truly knew what had happened to them. 

Since, not a single child of Apollo had been granted a quest.

Whatever she’d done, nobody was certain, but her cabin had suffered for it.

Tsh! Silvers crossed and he caught the smaller kid off guard, blade to his neck with a grin. 

Someone whistled and he glanced over his shoulder. Bianca, the deputy-head counsellor of Athena cabin, was nodding in approval. “Good catch,” she called, “you’re getting better, Mysterio!” 

Like he hadn’t always been a pretty damn good swordsman.

She was right though, he’d improved.

He let the smile cover his face for a moment, pushing his hair out of his face and dancing from foot-to-foot. 

As JD went to strike, footsteps came thudding down into the amphitheatre , both of them dropping their weapons and squinting up into the sun. 

Once again, her dark figure stood over the sun, but this time, Rhea wasn’t smiling. Her eyes were wide, her hair whipping through the air as she ran down towards them all.

“There’s a new camper!” She yelled. “A new - shit - there’s a new camper! She killed - fuck - I don’t even know what, I don’t even know how she’s alive!”

Everyone rushed up towards the pavilion, and Dominik felt his gut sink significantly. His dreams had been dark, and this was unusual. 

Only a few protectors were out right now, off the top of his head he wasn’t even sure who , which satyrs, there were so few demigods these days that it was rare . So rare in fact, that each new camper was near a myth , that all of them wanted to see who or what this new person was. “They’re saying,” Rhea was panting, “the prophecy-“

Her voice cut off with a gasp of air, but he got the drift.

Finally, what she’d been damn waiting for.

“Prophecy kid finally here?” Exclaimed Naomi, a bright daughter of Iris whom he actually didn’t mind too much, despite her affinity for neon. “Shit, Rhea, you’d better get yourself together!”

Next to her, Bianca giggled. 

Head Counsellors of their respective cabins, the two of them were well-liked, nice and good at fighting, at leading, all of the above. Behind them was Alexa, Hecate’s daughter, a slightly weird but mostly amicable girl he liked enough, and his other two friends, Damian and Finn, who’d been waiting for the daughter of Hades, joined them in the dash up the hill.

To his surprise, they were stopped at the Big House. Chiron stared down at them all and shook his head, dismissing them all. 

All, except Rhea. 

And to his surprise, Dominik. 

“You, son,” said the centaur, “stay.” 

So he did, lingering from side to side. 

Rhea shot him an odd look.

In the meeting room of the Big House was Raquel Rodriguez, a daughter of Nemesis, who looked equally as confused as he felt. She was big, tall and strong and lean, even taller than Rhea, with a vicious streak, but he’d luckily never faced that. In fact, he found her quite nice, she was one of the few other campers he often spotted swimming down the coast in the early mornings, though they never did talk. Also an all-year camper, she’d been here six years, almost as long as him.

Chiron had shrunk into his wheelchair, puttering across the wooden floorboards with the God of Wine and Madness at his side.

Though he wouldn’t admit it, Dominik found Dionysus one of the most frightening gods he’d met.

Not that he’d met that many.

A son of Aphrodite was rarely looked upon, rarely blessed with such grace. 

But he knew the power of Dionysus.

Madness was just as much of a threat as a blade or arrow. 

“What’s happening?” Rhea asked. Her hands were practically dancing at her sides, fiddling with her rings anxiously. The four clay beads upon her neck marked each of Roman’s great braveries, and he knew she wanted one of her own so desperately it hurt. “Is it the prophecy-“

“We think.” Said Chiron softly. “The girl is with the healers now. Her satyr was killed just beyond the boundaries of camp, and she managed to defeat an empousa.”

Dom’s eyes bugged out of his skull and he gawked. “An empousa?”

As a child, his father had told him stories of those beasts.

Evil, damn near impossible to defeat. 

“Yes, Daryl.” He scowled at the camp director. “An empousa. Somehow, the brat managed it with no training, but hey, what do you know? Maybe she got lucky.”

It was Raquel who spoke first, tugging at the cut-sleeves of her orange camp t-shirt. “Why was the empousa so close to camp?” She asked eventually. “I mean, they never come this close, do they?” 

Shaking his head, the centaur sighed. “Something is brewing.”

Ignoring the strange look Rhea shot him, Dominik turned. “Something bad? Something to do with the missing quest? With Roman?”

The two leaders glanced at each other, then at him. 

“Perhaps.” Chiron said. “We worried for a while that we’d lost them, but there has been…some news.” 

All three campers had their full attention on him now. 

“Ronan and his group are still alive.” Dionysus shrugged, chewing his gum. “We believe.”

“Is this to do with them?” Asked Rhea.

“We believe.” Chiron repeated softly. “But we believe your prophecy, Rhea, it has something to do with their quest.”

She looked like she was about to jump up and down, bobbing on her heels. 

Unlike him, she was excited about this damn prophecy. She ran towards fights every damn time, and one day, he was certain it would get her in trouble. 

One day.

Dropping down onto the couch next to the daughter of Nemesis, Dominik stared up at Chiron. 

“Why are we here?” He gestured at himself and Raquel. “I mean, no offense, Rodriguez,” she shrugged, “but why us? Her, I get. She’s the daughter of Hades. My mom’s the patron of Valentine’s Day. Hers is the goddess of getting your lick back.” 

Dionysus hid a snort. 

Even at the mention of the name of the God of Death, it felt as though a cold breeze flooded through the big wooden cabin.  

“Assuming that this young lady is the other half of the prophecy - I mean - it would make sense, considering the conditions in which she arrived here, we thought to take a few campers we feel haven’t been utilised to prepare for this. I’d like you both to help her out getting comfortable at camp, too.” 

He glanced at Raquel, whose brow was creased in confusion. “So…we’re babysitting?” 

It wasn’t as though he was known for his friendliness. 

Nor her, to be fair, though she was smilier than him. 

Really, he was sort-of just known for sulking and getting into arguments with people. Usually arguments he couldn’t always back up, but what ever.

Still, not a babysitter.

Most of the kids who came to camp were between ten and fourteen, any older or younger and it was unusual. He’d been rare, arriving at eight, but they’d put that down to him being a legacy demigod, a son born of a goddess and a demigod. Not that he’d lived up to it. And she was eleven when she’d arrived, young but not the youngest.

But he was sixteen and Raquel seventeen, and it seemed weird to have them watching out for some kid.

Even if she was special.

“Not exactly.” Said Dionysus. “The girl’s sixteen.”

Dominik gawked. 

Across the room, Rhea looked equally as shocked. 

Raquel’s brow was raised into her red bandana and she fiddled with the loops of her camo trousers - he always thought she dressed like an Ares kid, especially today. “Sixteen?” Asked the taller girl incredulously. “Isn’t that like - unheard of?”

According to legend, the scent of demigods grew stronger and stronger each year they grew older, more tantalising to monsters, and sixteen was the point it became deadly to exist outside a safe place.

Every kid who came through Camp Half-Blood learned that.

“Surely if she’s like - killing empousa with no training - she’s got to be powerful.” Rhea mused. “Aren’t more powerful demigods - don’t they smell stronger to monsters?” 

Nodding, Chiron sighed. “I need to talk with some folks in Mount Rushmore.” 

Mount Rushmore? Dominik frowned. That wasn’t anywhere near where Roman’s quest was meant to end, perhaps it was where Rhea’s would take her instead.

Because despite the slight dodging around the conversation, he could tell that was where it led. 

A quest.

Her quest.

“Her name is Olivia Morgan.” Said the centaur, bobbing his head. “Would you two be able to go check on her? I believe she’s waking up.”

The thing he least understood was still why them? Perhaps to give them something to do, but he shrugged, standing and glancing towards Rhea. She was still twitchy, fiddling with her rings, and he tried to give her a comforting smile as he and Raquel left (he was pretty sure it looked like a grimace), wondering what fate she’d be left to.

Across the camp was the medical cabin, and the pair of them sped past questioning campers, glancing at each other. There was something slightly uneasy about the whole situation, about the greying skies above that seemed to grow darker and darker. 

Wary, they halted outside the doors strung with golden sun-leaf charms, Apollo’s symbol somewhat warmer than the dark world behind them.

“She’s probably scared.” Said Raquel. “Or really tired.”

Both of them peered at each other.

“Yeh.” Said Dominik awkwardly. “We just gotta - welcome her to camp?”

Inside the cabin there were a few kids with regular injuries, one boy tending to his broken toes and a few Apollo kids winding their way around, he spied Bayley and Sol standing side by side by a cornered-off section, talking in low voices. At the sight of them, the former gestured over.

Behind the curtain was a whole pile of medical supplies, a bowl of bandages and wadding soaked in blood, a small pot-plant with an ivy leaf sticking out of the earth and a girl lying in one of the cots. 

His heart dropped down to his ass when he saw her.

Sun-tanned soft with slightly red shoulders, as though she’d been out for a little too long on a summer day, long golden hair haloing her face, she was pretty. They’d bandaged her torso, though blood still seemed to ooze from the middle of her, and she had a deep bruise under her eye, purple and red. Her nose was pointed, and a pair of glasses lay on the table beside the little plant-pot, her lips swollen with bruising.

Small, unintimidating, she wasn’t exactly strong-looking, but she’d somehow killed an empousa. 

Somehow.

In her sleep, she was twitching and shaking, eyes flicking under lids and fists gripping at the sheets she lay on, she looked scared. 

“Is she okay?” His voice didn’t sound like his own when he spoke, and he glanced up towards Sol, who was frowning over the crumpled figure of the girl in the bed. “She looks ill.”

“The empousa got her.” Said the tall daughter of Apollo - she was the epitome of one, tanned with curly blonde hair and brown eyes - always nice, always kind. And damn good at what she did in the med-bay. He almost trusted her more than Bayley, the acting-head counsellor of the God of the Sun. “I mean - we got the poison out and all, and she kicked me, but it’s fine. Kept crying about that ivy plant so I got Zaria to pot it for me.”

Thinking of the angry-looking daughter of Demeter with pink and red hair, he shivered slightly and peered at her some more.

All her features were delicate, even the gash in her brow seemed film-made to be a slit, at her neck was a cross on a silver chain, and she was shaking slightly. 

“She’ll be okay,” said the shorter girl, shaking her half-shorn hair, “screamed like a banshee when we got her in here, but she’ll be fine.”

Dominik almost laughed. 

Besides the glasses and the pot plant was a small badge, shiny and gold, and he frowned at it. “What’s that?” 

“Big sword.” Answered Bayley. 

He frowned at the badge. “Sword?”

“When we got to her, she had a huge sword.” Sol gestured with her arms. “It kinda - I don’t really know how, actually, but it turned into a badge.”

The sorts of things that he’d seen before. His father had owned many of them, great weapons inherited from godly quests, but rarely did people arrive with them. In fact, in the eight damn years he’d been at Camp Half-Blood, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a kid come in with a weapon like that.

Neither was he sure he’d ever seen a girl like her before. 

“She looks like she’s waking up.” Said Raquel.

“You have eyes.” Dominik said, and earned himself a punch in the arm.

Ouch.

The girl didn’t just wake up.

She jerked to life like a puppet, gasping for air.

“Wha-huh-what- where?” Blurted the girl, and Dominik felt his whole damn heart thudding against his ribs, fighting against his chest. 

For her eyes were the colour of the skies on the kindest of summer days, bright, electric blue. 

Electric.

Curse his mother, he knew what he was feeling.

And he had not felt anything like this in a long, long time.

Chapter Text

Liv woke up to four strangers staring back at her. Her gut was aching, her whole body felt light and strange, and she was confused. 

The last thing she remembered was her satyr dying, the tiny ivy-leaf buds left in her palms as she howled over him. For nearly three months, he’d protected her, and now, he was gone. Gone because of that thing that had chased them up the hill, she was certain the face of the beast she’d killed wouldn’t leave her mind ever.

Huge yellow fangs bursting from the face of a woman, flaming hair, hooved foot, bronze leg, some horrible Frankenstein's creature from her worst nightmares. 

Thank God for the pin, the silver pin she’d been finding in her pocket for almost a year. Each time she’d tried to throw it out, it would reappear, and until now, she hadn’t known of its use. 

Big sword.

Its use was it was in fact a big sword. 

Almost silly in her skinny arms, but it was remarkably light, and she’d lifted it and swung it right down into the monster-lady. She was pretty sure she could still taste the dust that exploded onto her, because the thing she’d killed wasn’t just flesh and blood. 

Did monsters even have blood?

After that, she wasn’t really sure what had happened.

Maybe she’d passed out.

Her clothes were folded neatly at the foot of the cot she was lying on, and her torso was bandaged up in white - a small spot of blood was soaking the front of it. Liv pressed her fingers to the wrap, then finally, stared back at the four watching her.

Two tall girls, one who had to be some six-foot at least, with long dark hair and camo-print trousers on, beside a girl with a warm tan and curly blonde hair with blue streaks, both of them looking at her with concern. A third girl shorter, with red-dyed hair half-shaved on one side, her hands smudged with blood. Probably Liv’s.

And a boy.

Tall and pale, with long, shaggy dark hair and the beginnings of facial hair, eyes deep brown and curious. An orange t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, black shorts that cut-off at the knee and battered black combat boots, he looked like a reject-army-trainee.

In a kind-of cute way.

Pretty, almost.

Actually, Liv wasn’t sure if she was delusional or dying, so maybe her feelings weren’t so rational.

“Hi.” Said the boy. “You’re Olivia, right?”

She must’ve told someone when she was half-passed-out being dragged into this place. A camp, she remembered what her satyr had said, a camp for kids like her. They’d be safe here, that’s what he’d said to her. Not long before he’d died and turned into a budding ivy root in her hands. 

So much for safe.

“Liv,” she croaked, “not Olivia.”

Pushing herself up despite the “oh” noises the tall blonde girl made, she looked around some more.

Rustic, woodsy, with a string of bunting that ran over the ceiling, each triangle hand-printed with a different pattern. Some, she could associate with the Gods. A trident for Poseidon, flowers and grain, she assumed, Demeter, a sun for Apollo. 

Above her head was a blue triangle with a golden lightning bolt, fluttering in the breeze. Zeus, she remembered him too. Everyone remembered him. 

King of the Gods and all that.

Through a window she could see the skies, grey and cloudy.

Miserable weather, though it had been boiling all damn morning, the sun was hidden away and a storm seemed apt to begin. 

“This is Camp Half-Blood?” She rasped. 

They all exchanged a look, and two of them moved forward - the tall girl with dark hair, and the boy - pausing awkwardly. The other two shifted, then walked behind the curtain leaving her with these two strangers. 

“It is.” Said the girl, fiddling with a clay bead at her neck.

On her cord were six beads, brightly coloured and patterned differently, though she couldn’t make out what was on them, on his cord, there were eight.

“You’re a demigod, we don’t-”

“Don’t know my godly parent, yeah.” Liv nodded. “My protector, he - uh - he told me all that before he-”

Her voice trailed off and she tried not to look so wide-eyed, upset.

“Hey,” said the boy, “Liv, you’re good. You’re okay. It’s not your fault he died. That was the empousa. The monster, whoever’s sending them after you.”

So many damn monsters.

Since the day her satyr had found her, they had been constant. She was exhausted. Her limbs were patterned with bruises and fresh wounds matched old scars, she was certain she looked awful right now, staring up at them both.

“I’m Raquel Rodriguez,” the girl held out a hand, and she shook it slightly gingerly, “daughter of Nemesis.”

The Goddess of vengeance, retribution.

Next to her, the boy waved sheepishly. “Dominik Mysterio.” Fancy ass name, she thought to herself. “Son of Aphrodite.”

Something in her stomach soared.

Son of Aphrodite.

Maybe that was why he was so pretty.

Though she imagined he didn’t particularly fit in, with his pierced ears and darker look. She’d thought that the children of the Goddess of Love might be all pink and pretty, not - well - not this.

“Don’t s’pose any of you would have a clue about mine?” She asked. “I mean, any spooky clues from the sky? My satyr was convinced I was - uhm - I was a saviour, and like, that’s fine, whatever, but I don’t really know how to be a saviour, and I lost my favourite lipliner on the train, and-”

Both of them looked amused at her rambling.

Liv sighed. “Is one of you gonna tell me why I need a whole damn greeting party, though?” 

They both blinked.

“I mean, surely you get kids all the time.” She sat up a little more, wincing when her vision went fuzzy. “I’m not special.”

Eventually, the boy, Dominik, spoke. “You’re - ehm - you’ve come at an unusual time.” 

By the time they had filled her in, about the boy on a quest who’d been gone four months, the girl who’d disappeared six years ago, so on and on, the skies were black outside, and Liv felt herself falling asleep, eyes heavy. 

Someone, the blonde girl who’d been there before, waved the other two out. “She’s healing,” she said, and Liv wondered a little if the girl knew she was a walking-talking surfer stereotype, “let her sleep. Come back in the morning.”

Waving a hand that felt like a rock, she fell asleep almost instantly.

Her dreams were less dream and more nightmare.

Upon a hill surrounded by storms, a huge shadow stood growling, his hands up in the air. The only distinguishable feature she could make out was a pair of golden eyes cruel and angry. She didn’t know him, but from her hiding place, watched him survey the scenery below him.

Monsters of every kind, every sort of beast she could imagine, each one more gnarly and nasty than the last, her eyes couldn’t even comprehend them all.

“You did as I asked?”

In front of him was a figure she didn’t recognise.

A human.

A girl.

From where she hid, no part of her was recognisable, and she watched the girl bow.

“I did.” She said.

Liv’s heart thudded in her chest.

“I’d do it again.”

Then the bowing girl turned, and her eyes fell onto Liv, cleaving through her hiding spot and staring. Still, her face was a blur, she saw only a pair of blue eyes staring back at her. 

“To kill them all. I’d do it a hundred times over.”

She paused.

“To kill her.”

When she woke, sweating and afraid, it was morning.

Sweet morning, though the skies were still grey and angry, and the medical wing was a lot quieter now. The blonde girl with the blue streaks in her hair peered around the curtain and grinned slightly. “You should be okay now, Liv.” She said. “I’m Sol, by the way. My father’s Apollo.”

That made sense.

Beachy and sunny, shit, her name even meant sun, yeah, that tracked. 

“Cool.” Liv managed, standing stiffly. New clothes were folded by old ones, an orange t-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked way too big. “You’re the one who healed me?”

Sol nodded, smiling brightly. 

Blindingly. 

Almost annoyingly peppy. 

Maybe fourteen or so, definitely younger than her.

But she’d saved her life. So she’d have to cope with all that peppiness. “Yep! Bayley too, she’s the head counsellor, and my best friend Zaria from Demeter cabin put your - uh - leaf in a pot for you, but she’s busy at the moment getting ready for Capture the Flag.”

She just stared uncomprehendingly, hands reaching out to hold onto the little blue plant pot.

“It’s so fun!” Said the girl, handing her the new clean clothes. “We take teams, and we have to fight, and it’s super-fun! My team’s been on a running streak for months, maybe you can join us.”

“S’pose I could.” Liv said, running a hand over the now-healed skin. 

Whatever was in that bullshit golden waffle thing was doing its job, because she couldn’t even feel what had been a deep gouge to her gut last night. All that remained was a strike-shaped pink scar across her middle, as though she’d been struck by lightning. 

Neat. 

“Not good at fighting though.” She told the tall girl, pulling up the black jeans. They sagged at her hips, too-big, and after a moment’s pause, she took her silver pin and hooked it through the fabric, an easy solution that she supposed meant the sword was still at easy reach.

Though she didn’t have a fucking clue how it worked.

“You’ve got to be good at fighting, you killed an empousa, girl.” Big hazel eyes twinkled brightly, evidently they were all excited about this great achievement. She glanced at the claw on the table, then picked it up and shoved it into the pocket of the baggy jeans.

“Those are Dom’s.” Said Sol. “He dropped them last night after you fell asleep ‘cause your clothes are all gnarly and covered in blood.”

Gee, she hadn’t noticed.

The t-shirt she’d been wearing last night had a great big hole in it, meanwhile the Camp Half-Blood t-shirt fit just-about-right, and it wasn’t as gross and bloody. 

“Oh.” Liv frowned at the pants for a second, she was wearing a boy’s trousers who she’d only met once , but whatever. It was better than the torn-up jeans she’d arrived in.

Tugging her bloodstained sneakers on, she sighed. “Thanks for fixing me.”

Sol just saluted cheerfully, and she took the rest of her things, the ivy plant carefully placed on top of her rather humble collection of belongings. The backpack she’d had with her for the last three months was battered and worn, the pins and patches coming off, the New Jersey state team iron-on already torn and ugly. 

To her surprise, the two from the other night were waiting for her.

Talking low in Spanish, gesturing, Liv blinked between the pair of them. “Morning.” 

Both of them jumped and Dominik, who glanced at her wearing his trousers, shifted awkwardly. “Hullo.” 

“So, now that I’m sentient,” she decided to break the tension, “you guys gonna show me around?”

Something in her calmness seemed to settle them.

But Liv wasn’t calm.

Her heart was thudding at a rapid pace, and these two were both nice, but she was scared. 

This was a whole other world. 

Kids ran across the space every age from eleven to eighteen, swords clanged, armour shone, and she took it all in with wide eyes. Some of them pointed at her, someone hissed empousa-killer , another girl looked her up and down with a snide expression on her face. Tall and blonde, a mole under her lip and steely eyes, Dominik and Raquel steered her clear of the angry-looking girl. 

“Who’s that,” Liv asked loudly, glaring over her shoulder, “she looks like she’s got a stick up her ass, why’s she so-”

“That’s Charlotte. Head counsellor of Athena Cabin." Raquel answered, shaking her head. “She’s complicated.”

Liv frowned. 

Surely they were all complicated around here.

Half-God kids with complexes to the extreme.

And she didn’t even know hers yet.

“She’s also leading the opposite team to mine,” said Dominik, “I mean, I’m not the leader. My friend Damian is, he’s the head-counsellor of Ares team.” 

He pointed across the tennis courts to a rather grim-looking cabin covered in barbed wire and spiky wooden sticks, with a big boar’s head she swore was moving. Grimacing, she carried on walking, watching a girl with a very long braid practicing some sort of sword-drill with a girl with bright green hair. Both of them were quick and fast, impressive.

“They split the cabins sort-of equally.” The tall girl filled her in. “Dom and I are both on the Red team. We haven’t won in a while.”

Personally, she couldn’t imagine someone much more physically intimidating than Raquel, so she wasn’t sure how that would happen.

“Hey,” said the boy, fiddling with the bandana around his neck, “you could be on our side. Since you’re not in a cabin yet.”

Turning a corner, she shrugged. “Where am I meant to sleep?” She asked, eyes flitting over the rest of the cabins. Some of them seemed a lot busier, Dominik’d pointed at his own - it was pink and smelled of perfume - and there was one where she could see triple-bunk-beds and hammocks from the ceilings.

“Usually, new kids go to Hermes' cabin. Passage of travel, and all that.” He shrugged. “Finn says it’s real busy in there at the moment. Kids not being claimed.”

As she suspected.

“You could probably stay with me, though,” Raquel suggested, “there’s only a few kids in my cabin.”

Liv glanced at her, curious.

Evidently there was a reason they were being so nice to her, though what the reason was, she didn’t know. Maybe she was more important than she realised. 

But at the same time, it was easier to accept their kindness than to reject it. 

“I’d like that.” 

The potential of not being claimed after everything she’d been through seemed unfair. 

Smiling slightly, the daughter of Nemesis bobbed her head, then grinned, waving over at a man on a horse. 

No.

A horseman.

Accepting that this wasn’t the weirdest thing that’d happened in a while, Liv trudged along behind her tour guides, fiddling with the t-shirt. 

“Chiron, sir,” Raquel was saying, “this is Liv.”

He had a kindly face and a silver-spined beard, fuzzy and dark, and he was half-horse. Funky. She waved at him awkwardly, holding her belongings to her chest. Barely damn anything. Not even socks. “Good morning, Liv. I hear you had quite the fight to get to us.”

She produced the Empousa claw and held it up to him. 

“A trophy,” he examined it with a smile, “very good. You keep that, Miss Morgan.”

Pocketing it again and thinking that she’d prefer an actual trophy to the gnarled claw the length of her thumb, Liv stared up at him. “Can I stay with Raquel in the Nemesis cabin, please?” She asked, probably a little boldly, but she didn’t care. “It’s busy in Hermes and they probably don’t even want another person there.”

Chiron cocked his head slightly. “Is that okay with you, Raquel?”

The tall girl nodded excitedly. 

“Very well. Have these two explained Capture the Flag? I presume you’ll be on their side.”

“Yes, sir.” She said, though wasn’t too sure what she was agreeing to. “Can I use my - uhm - sword-badge?” 

Eyes fell to the silver badge at her hip. 

“Anything goes in Capture the Flag,” said the centaur, “no maiming or killing is the only rule.”

No maiming? 

Whatever kind of fucked-up place this was, she wasn’t sure she belonged here.

“Now, I have some business to attend to,” Chiron continued, “though I expect Rhea will be back in time for the games.”

Nemesis Cabin was black and purple all over, and she quite liked it. Only a few kids in there, a girl with short curly blonde hair and a sneer called Zoey, and a stout boy with a sullen expression on his face who’d introduced himself as Chad and stomped off to a corner. 

From a small drawer by her bed, Raquel provided her with some more clothes (all way too big), and Dominik sat on the edge of the bed, chattering about the war-games that were capture the flag. That Charlotte as the blue-team leader was undefeated, that since her best friend Becky had gone, she’d had no competition leader-wise. Apollo’s campers now fell under hers, and thus the red team had been underhanded.

“Hey,” Raquel would say, holding out a helmet, “you killed an empousa, chica, you’re an asset.”

Frankly, Liv felt more like an inconvenience. She tried the helmet on and it fell over her eyes, so that was a nope.

“Helmets help.” Dominik told her, his friends appearing behind him. The two boys from Hermes cabin, Finn and JD, were both in their armour and it looked rather less silly on them than it did the taller boy, and their friend Damian, the leader of the red team, actually looked intimidating in his. 

As did the daughter of Nemesis, Raquel looked like the armour actually suited her.

Liv was now drowning in boys’ pants three-times-too-big and armour that entirely debilitated her. 

“An empousa,” one of the two brothers, the one with the big head was whispering, far too loud, “she doesn’t look like she could kill an empousa.”

When she pulled her shirt back and tucked it into her trousers, she made sure they could see the new fleshy scar on her gut, smiling sweetly when they both paled. Not that she particularly wanted to present herself as a threat, but certainly, prove them wrong. 

Damian was talking to a girl with black hair and pale eyes, a face like thunder, her expression dark and for some reason, directed at her. They gestured at Dominik and he dashed over obediently, tucking his head in for some sort-of meeting with the two brothers not far behind him.

“That’s Rhea,” Raquel whispered, though it was just the pair of them standing alone now, “she’s the daughter of Hades. Her and Roman, they’re the most powerful - well - he was, before he went missing. Rhea’s one of the two the prophecy’s about, they’re looking for the other.”

“The prophecy they think I’m a part of?” Liv asked.

A conflicted expression fell over the taller girl’s face. “Si. Rhea’s been here for four years, she’s been waiting four years for that quest.”

So she got a little why the dark-haired girl was glaring at her.

Standing amongst the crowds of red-feathered teens, she was noticing why they seemed to lose often. Though they had the Ares kids - some of them were scary looking - and of course, the fucking daughter of the God of the Dead, they were still short handed. 

Certainly, opposite them, led by that girl with blonde curls and steely eyes, Charlotte, was a whole selection of far more full cabins. Hermes, Apollo, Athena, next to her Raquel was pointing them out and explaining what various points of their roles were.

“I don’t think I have a role.” Liv frowned.

To her surprise, it was Rhea who turned towards her with something like a sneer on her face. “Stay out of my way, blondie. That’s the plan.”

Right.

Liv raised a brow, hand folding over the broach at her hip.

Someone, she thought it was pretty-boy Dominik, was saying something about how that wasn’t fair, and Raquel was rolling her eyes, shrugging. “Ignore her. You can stay with me, we’re gonna be guarding the flag.”

Great, really invigorating.

Joyful.

One of Hephaestus’ daughters, a brutish girl called Shayna, let out a beastly roar when the claxon sounded, and Liv clunked along in her ill-fitting armour, following the taller girl through the forest.

Though the skies above were grey, the trees were bright and green and she hardly paid attention to the sounds of chaos around them. The strawberry fields were just in sight through the greenery, and she imagined she’d make a good child of Demeter. She’d always loved plants. Raquel was poking holes in the thick bark of a tree, carving her initials into it over and over again boredly, and she flopped onto a rock, staring at the other girl.

“Why aren’t you charging ahead?” She asked. “You’re clearly one of the stronger people on our team.”

The taller girl’s face twisted, and she jabbed the sword into the tree with a fervour. “I used to,” she said, “I - well - I kinda upset Rhea. She’s always been ahead, she’s always ahead. ”

Bitterness twinged her voice slightly.

“One time I went off-plan. I got the flag, we nearly won. Rhea was so mad she broke my arm, and one of Charlotte’s friends got it. The Big Three kids, they have extra power. They’re so much stronger, even than regular demigods. I don’t think she meant to hurt me like that, but-”

“It still sucks.” Liv said, detangling herself from her armour - it wasn’t friendly to long hair at all - and kicking a small rock. “I mean, does she get everything she wants?”

Shaking her head, Raquel smacked another branch and it came crashing down. 

She was really fucking strong. 

“Not everything.” Admitted the daughter of Nemesis. “She’s been through a lot. The monsters came for her like crazy, I got here a few years before she did and I remember it. Hell for a whole night. She’d had three satyrs bring her here. Everyone treated her like a damn leper for a while. Children of Hades are considered cursed.”

Liv lay back on the rock, eyes on the stormy skies above. “Surely any child of the big three would be considered cursed.”

Children born to be heroes, and children born to die.

For a while, nothing happened.

Occasionally, someone would yelp in pain, or a firework would explode in the distance, but that was it.

Raquel had wandered to the side, just about out-of-sight, when it happened.

A handful of reds, their team, burst into the clearing, and Liv started, hopping clumsily to her feet. 

It was Rhea, the girl who seemed to hate her though they hadn’t even had a chance to speak, with the blue team’s flag in her hands, and that big guy Damian, plus two she didn’t really recognise, a slight Asian girl with red hair and a small tanned girl with curly brown hair.

The daughter of Hades had a cut on her cheek, blood running down in fine lines, and she took a step forward, staring down at her.

“Shit, you’re fucking lame.” She spat.

Startled, Liv stepped back, hand hovering over the pin at her hip. “I-”

“I mean, they said you killed an empousa, but I don’t even believe that. You’re not a killer. You’re probably just some dumb fucking daughter of Aphrodite or Demeter, I bet you don’t even know. Probably be unclaimed till you die, liar. ”

As though that was much of an insult. She liked the people she’d met from the former cabin (that was mostly Dominik), and she didn’t think that the girls in Demeter seemed unpleasant. Their cabin was covered in flowers and vines, and she thought that was nice.

“So I guess they don’t like you because you’re a bitch, not because of your father.”

Bad idea.

Very bad idea.

Below her feet the earth was shaking, growling and rocking, and she wobbled, trying desperately to keep her balance.

Rhea swung.

Her fist connected hard to Liv’s jaw, she hardly had time to react, and sank to her knees with a cry of pain. A ring had caught at her skin, tearing, and blood spilled down onto her neck and shirt. “Shit,” she grunted, “you cut me.”

“Aw, you gonna cry?” 

From the edge of the forest, Raquel reappeared but quickly was cornered by the other three, setting off a brutal brawl.

“Fight me,” Rhea said, “show me you’re the empousa killer.”

Under her fingers, the broach felt lightning hot and she yanked it from the trousers, praying they wouldn’t fall down. 

The blade appeared in her hand, exploding in a hiss of electricity and she stood, trying not to sway on her feet. 

Something like fear twinged in the other girl’s eyes.

Bigger, taller, stronger. 

A blade of her own, black and shining, Liv hadn’t ever seen metal like it. 

And she could bet that the daughter of Hades was far more accomplished in this matchup. 

Their blades swung and Liv’s arms weeped under the force of the clash, shoulders swinging back. Rhea backed her up, right up to the rock, and the earth groaned, it was her making this dirt crawl towards her legs, what looked like bones spilling up through the grass. 

All the other kids were watching them now, their own battles disregarded. 

With a painful crunch, Rhea slammed the sword-handle butt into her nose, and she howled, suddenly furious. Her glasses were broken again.

She had been here a day.

One fucking day.

Somebody could give her a break. 

“Leave me alone!” She bellowed, swinging her sword down.

That was when everything changed.

She felt taller. 

Nope, Liv realised with a shriek, that she was in the air. The other girl’s breastplate had a deep gouge in it, and the air was full of the sound of lightning. Wind struck around her, and this time the fear wasn’t just in Rhea’s eyes, but her whole damn face. 

Above her, the skies were black, storm-clouds struck with gold, and she was almost flying, though she fell to the ground as fast as she’d gone up, crashing down onto her knees with a gasp. Her jaw was still split open and bloody, nose definitely broken, and her heart was thudding against her ribs like sticks to a skin-drum, she gasped for air.

“Holy shit!” Someone cried.

Whispers were filling the clearing, it seemed like half the damn camp was here. 

Upon her hands she saw light, crackling light, and stared up.

Hovering over her head was a shimmering symbol, rippling in the windy air.

Golden.

A lightning bolt.

“It is determined.” She heard Chiron’s voice rumble around the clearing, as loud as her heartbeat ringing in her ears. 

Determined? She struggled to her feet, blinking hard.

Other faces were scared, some excited.

Dominik sported a nasty new black eye, and his face was pure shock. Where they’d been holding her back, Raquel was gawking, brow soaring into the bandana wrapped around her forehead. 

Blood spilled from Liv’s nose, down her face like she was a wild predator.

“Zeus,” said the centaur, and some people began to bow, to stoop low. Not Rhea, she didn’t miss it, “warrior of the skies, lord of lightning, bearer of burdens, the King of Olympus, God of all Gods. Hail Olivia Morgan, daughter of the Sky God.”