hiraeth

four

iv. Nia

Camp Half-Blood feels like home. Nia can't describe it any differently. Had it not been for the fact no one at Camp recognized her and Enne, she would have suspected this is where she had stayed before her memories were wiped out.

Chiron assigns them to Hermes' cabin. Campers whisper that her and Enne haven't been "claimed" yet.

Sounds like murder, Nia muses, inspecting the run-down cabin and shrugging her shoulders. Enne peers over her shoulder curiously.

"We should introduce ourselves to the campers properly," Nia suggests, nudging Enne out of the doorframe and into the clearing. When they had touched down at Thalia's tree, they didn't have time to greet the others who gathered around to welcome them. Percy had taken them straight to Chiron to explain their situation.

Chiron, Percy noted, was the activities director and apparently a centaur. Nia didn't even want to question it.

"You don't remember where you came from?" Chiron had asked them in private, once her and Enne had decided needed to at least tell someone.

"From my mother's wom-"

Enne elbowed her in the ribs.

They were in the Big House, a building painted baby-blue. Windchimes twinkled gently in the wind like a lullaby, and Nia didn't realize how sleepy she was until Enne had to tap her, her eyelids heavy with fatigue.

Chiron was sitting in a wheelchair. Nia absentmindedly wondered where the "centaur" part was.

"I mean, no, we woke up in New York without any memories," Nia amended. "Doctors said it was amnesia."

Chiron had nodded, lost in thought. "Hmm, I see. We should take you to Rachel once you get settled."

"Who's Rachel?" Enne had asked.

"The Oracle. She gives out prophecies and visions. She may be able to help you two." Chiron wheeled himself out onto the porch, and they followed him, the sun on its way down. Purple shadows and pink-orange skies greeted them. A ethereal glow seemed to blanket the camp, and Nia could have stared out at the scenery for forever. "For now, make some friends and rest up. Tomorrow, we'll see if we can find some answers for you."

~~~

Annabeth is a little terrifying.

Sharp, witty, and a damn good fighter; Nia isn't surprised to notice how every camper flocks to her and Percy, as if they owned the place. Nia respects it though, because above her skillset, it's Annabeth's confidence and level-headed thinking that makes her stand out from the rest. Stormy grey eyes and blonde curls and a hard edge.

Nia immediately adores her (move over Percy dksjshbs).

As for Percy, Nia still isn't sure what to fully make of him. She knows he has no problem fighting with a sword, and if Annabeth is steel, Percy is the calm after a storm. Or maybe he is the storm, considering he's the son of Poisedon. Percy can be an idiot, yes, but Nia has a sneaking suspicion he's been through more than he's willing to reveal, so she decides to give him the benefit of the doubt.

Other supposedly famous demigods, such as Jason and Piper, are out completing errands. Nia is disappointed because she really wanted to meet this guy named Leo, a fire user labeled "chaos in a bottle" by many.

"Hear me out," Nia says as her and Enne trudge towards the dining pavillion. They had checked out the training arena and the archery field (Enne accidentally shot at Clarisse, and they made a run for their lives), and they were surprised to come across a climbing wall spouting actual lava. "Percy and Annabeth."

Almost immediately, Enne catches on to what Nia is suggesting. "Percy and Annabeth," she repeats, nodding.

"They're literally in love," Nia insists.

"We should do something about it."

"Nah, they'll figure it out. They're just oblivious. But also..." Nia pulls down her sleeve to show Enne her soulmate marks.

Enne sighs. "I already told you, you only have two letters. It's probably not Percy. Besides, only an idiot would try to get between whatever him and Annabeth have going on."

Nia feigns offense. "Are you calling me an idiot?"

"No! Oh my god."

Nia pinches her cheek. "Just kidding."

"Ow, ow. Let go, Nia!"

They sit at the Hermes' table with the other unclaimed ("unmurdered," Nia mutters) kids, and they wait their turn to go up to the fire and sacrifice a portion of their food to the gods.

"That's a waste, to be honest," says Nia mournfully, scraping the tiniest pit of mashed potato into the pit.

After dinner, her and Enne head to their packed cabin. They share an assigned bunk bed, and Nia calls the bottom bunk because she's not about to climb up and down the ladder every morning and night. Enne begrudgingly clambers to the top bunk.

"Good nugget," her friend says cheerfully.

"Nighttt," replies Nia. She pulls the thin cotton sheet over her shoulders, prepared for a restful sleep.

Come morning light, she dreams of a lamppost, slender and ebony, a soft flame blazing behind glass. Hands running through her hair. The warmth of a fire and echoes of laughter.

Blurred faces waver in and out of her mind, but she can't completely grasp what she's seeing. Distorted voices.

"At this point, you should just be king," says a boyish voice.

"Dude, I've been saying that the whole time," a girl replies.

The scene shifts, out of focus.

"Wait, shut up, shut up. Do you hear that?" asks the girl.

The boy hesitates. "No, what is it?"

"The sound of fucks I give about your opinion. Not one."

Nia stirs in her sleep. What the hell?

The images melt away.

By the time Enne wakes her up at nine, she can't remember anything except for the lingering phantom of a heavy weight on her head. For some reason, tears prick at the corners of her eyes. She wipes them away before her friend can see.

On a whim, Nia examines her hands carefully. There, on her pinky finger, is the letter R.