Chapter Text
The forest road narrowed as the black SUV rolled lazily beneath the canopy of whispering pines, gravel crunching underneath the tires. Amber Jackson sat in the backseat, her forehead pressed against the window, watching the trees slowly pass by. Her long blonde hair was braided loosely over one shoulder, bangs falling into her sea-green eyes—eyes that mirrored her father’s, though she’d inherited her mother’s sharp gaze and even sharper mind.
In the front seat, Percy Jackson tapped the steering wheel to the beat of a song only he could hear. “Almost there,” he said, glancing at Annabeth, who was studying a map of the camp like she hadn’t memorized every inch of it years ago.
Amber didn’t speak. Her fingers curled around the locket at her neck—a gift from Annabeth, etched with a tiny owl and trident. She’d worn it every day since her twelfth birthday.
“You nervous?” Annabeth asked, turning in her seat.
Amber shrugged. “A little. I mean… everyone knows who you two are.”
Percy chuckled. “Trust me, kid. You’ll be fine. Just don’t challenge Clarisse’s daughter to arm wrestling on day one.”
Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Ignore him. You’re going to love it. Camp Half-Blood is where you find out who you really are.”
The SUV crested the final hill, and the pine tree marking the boundary came into view. Amber’s heart thudded. The moment felt huge—like stepping into a story she’d only ever heard in fragments.
Percy parked the car at the bottom of the hill. “This is as far as we go,” he said, voice soft now. “You walk in from here.”
Amber opened the door and stepped out. The air was different here—charged, ancient, alive. She turned to her parents, who stood beside her, both smiling with pride and something bittersweet.
“You’ve got this,” Annabeth said, squeezing her shoulder.
Percy winked. “Go make your own legend.”
Amber took a deep breath and stepped across the boundary.
The world shimmered.
Camp Half-Blood unfolded before her eyes—cabins nestled in a crooked oval, the lake sparkling in the distance, campers sparring with swords and laughter echoing from the training wall. A centaur trotted by, clipboard in hand. Pegasi soared overhead. Amber walked through the open grass area to a large white, beach style house.
Amber stepped into the Big House, her backpack slung over one shoulder and her bangs slightly stuck to her forehead from the summer heat. The place smelled like old books and lemon cleaner, with a faint hint of strawberries drifting in from the fields outside. It was quieter than she expected—just the soft ticking of a grandfather clock and the creak of floorboards.
She wandered in a little awkwardly, unsure where to go, until she noticed a girl with short black hair and golden-ish eyes sitting on a couch near the window. The girl looked up from a notebook, blinking like she hadn’t expected company.
“Hey,” Amber said, offering a small wave. “I’m Amber. Just got here.”
The girl nodded, tucking a strand of black hair behind her ear. “Jewel,” she said quietly. “I’ve only been here a few days.”
Amber sat down across from her, setting her bag on the floor. “Cool. My parents are Percy and Annabeth.”
Jewel’s eyes widened a little. “Oh. Mine are Frank and Hazel.”
Amber smiled. “No way. That’s awesome.”
They sat in awkward silence for a moment, listening to the sounds of camp drifting in through the open window—kids laughing, someone yelling about a sword, a pegasus whinnying in the distance.
“You nervous?” Jewel asked.
“A little,” Amber admitted. “But it’s kind of nice here.”
Jewel nodded. “Yeah. It grows on you.”
Just then, footsteps echoed down the hallway. A centaur with a kind face and a button-down shirt appeared in the doorway, though he remained outside as the ceiling was too low.
“Ah, Amber,” he said warmly. “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood. I’m Chiron. Glad you made it.”
Amber stood up, feeling a little more at ease. Jewel gave her a small smile, and Amber returned it.
Amber followed Chiron and Jewel out of the Big House, the warm afternoon sun casting long shadows across the camp. The air buzzed with activity—campers sparring near the arena, laughter echoing from the strawberry fields, and the distant flap of pegasus wings overhead.
As they walked past the familiar ring of cabins, Amber glanced at the ones she’d heard about her whole life. Cabin Three, her dad’s old home, stood proud and sea-weathered. Cabin Six, her mom’s, was sleek and symmetrical, with columns that looked like they belonged in Athens.
But Chiron didn’t stop at either.
Instead, he led them to a newer cabin tucked just beyond the main circle. It was smaller than the others, but thoughtfully designed—warm wood, soft lanterns glowing under the eaves, and a carved sign above the door that read: Cabin 23 – The Legacy Cabin.
“This,” Chiron said, “is something we built recently. For demigod descendants—children of heroes who’ve already shaped the world. You’re not just children of gods, you’re children of legends.”
Amber blinked. “So… it’s not just me?”
Jewel smiled shyly. “There’s a few of us. It’s quiet, but kind of nice.”
Chiron nodded. “You’ll still train, still go on quests, still earn your place. But this cabin is yours. A space to grow without the weight of your parents’ names hanging over you.”
Amber stepped inside. The room smelled like cedar and fresh linen. There were bunk beds, a bookshelf filled with myth and history, and a big corkboard covered in photos, notes, and drawings—some clearly from other legacy kids.
She dropped her bag on a lower bunk and looked around.It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t dramatic.
But it felt like hers.
And for the first time since she crossed the boundary, Amber felt like she belonged.