Drowning in the Siren's Song

Chapter 25

"You okay?" Zoe extended her hand, her brown eyes glinting with worry. Percy shrugged, deciding to be honest and grasped it firmly, pulling himself up. He held on a second longer, using her arm as means to balance his unstable legs. He was crouched for so long that his legs began to hurt with pins and needles. 

He tried to ignore the various glances thrown at him as he pretended to be occupied, dusting himself off and fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Zoe had done a wonderful job and giving him some much needed space, but he knew that it was going to be very short lived.

After all that happened, of course they would be curious. He could practically see the questions burning like a flame in their eyes and the sheer will power they were using to stop themselves from running over and grabbing his collar. 

Intimidated by the thought, he subtly moved a bit, shifting behind Zoe until his field of vision didn't have any hunters trying to catch his eye. He didn't know why having Zoe beside him comforted him this much, but either way, he was glad she was there.

While he was recuperating from their unintended interrogation, he noticed how different the atmosphere was around the hunters of Artemis. The last time he was this close to a group of people was when he was with Oak at the park, and that was years ago.

He'd forgotten the buzz of chatter and the chaos which followed humans, and for someone who'd lived his life in a forest with spirits, it was especially loud. The unique way each person drew their breath and the jingle of a silver bracelet and the crack of a twig under a boot, his heightened senses could hear everything clearly, giving him a dull headache. 

So instead of listening to the mayhem of the girls, he tunneled his senses and focused on the natural sounds around him. And while he was enjoying the song of the river and the melodies of the birds, he took the opportunity and scanned the area again, knowing the one could only be so careful. 

Apparently his concentrating face must've been pretty bad because Naomi popped up from nowhere and ignoring Zoe's words, she grabbed him and started to drag him towards their camp, refusing his words of protest. 

Knowing there was no chance of winning, he gave up and let her pull him along, resolving himself for the endless stream of chatter from her. Though her words carried only banter and insignificant anecdotes, there was a particular wisdom in the way she spoke, making him remember that no matter how young they looked, they were much, much older than him. 

He was the center of attention every step he went, getting glares from Phoebe and her entourage as well as getting pestered for pats from the guardian wolves. Yet no matter who called out, Naomi kept a firm grip on his elbow, allowing him to safely ignore them.

They soon arrived at a partially open space next tot he cave, where wood and rocks were arranged in what he recognized was a campfire. There was a small flicker of a flame dancing there and a few girls were gathered around it, chatting casually.

The weather wasn't really cold, but the fire still felt comforting when he sat beside it. Naomi had released her grip and had also taken a seat, just close enough for the exchange of words. 

"You don't have to feel so pressured." She looked up at the darkening sky, her blue eyes reflecting the pinks and oranges of the sunset. 

He didn't reply, not knowing what to say. She didn't mind, it seemed, because she continued, still speaking to the sky. "Stereotypes are hard to break, but when softened, at least they bend." There it was; the poetic string of words which said something, meant something else. 

But he had learned to read the underlying meanings. Nature spirits often spoke that way, using only a few words to convey what would take hours in simple language. Living with them, he too had become fluent in the metaphoric dialect. "Am I only expected to bend, or am I allowed to push till it breaks?" 

"If you have the strength, do as you please. Who knows, we may be grateful one day." Naomi's eyes glittered, a little surprised. She had expected questions on what she meant, but not a inquiry. It was commendable that he knew how to weave words and understand what she meant so quickly.

But it was true. If Percy could help reduce the amount of toxic femininity within the hunters, she would, no doubt be grateful. 

The hunters were a group of women who came from different times. There were so many differences, whether it be from a cultural perspective or a geographical one, but there was one urge that tied them together stronger than any other alliance.

The urge to escape men. 

At first, it was fear which led them to follow Artemis. But over time, watching more and more maidens re-live their horrible pasts, their fear turned into hatred. It was the same story over and over again. Seasons changed and years passed, the hunters learned from Artemis, becoming strong to protect themselves and young girls who fell prey to bad fortune.

But somehow, the strength they'd yearned to protect turned into the strength they desired to harass. In a way, men deserved it, but their true purpose had been buried, which was to save and not to harm. 

The hunters had started to puff up their chests and smirk with pride, and someone was needed to change that. And Naomi begged the gods, hoping it could be Percy.

 But she was not going to pressure him. He was simply a child and she believed that every child should have a childhood free of obligations. 

"So Percy tell me, do you have any hobbies?" She finally looked at him, noticing that she was too deep in thought. He seemed surprised by her question. Maybe it was too mundane of a question to ask after severe interrogations. 

He took a minute tot think. He'd never been asked something so simply. Did he have any hobbies? 
"I enjoy...singing."

It was true. Hobbies were thing you did for fun, and singing was the only thing that came to mind which truly gave him happiness. Though it was a source of power for him, it didn't change that fact that it was the only thing he remembered his mother by. 

"How nice. Sing at the campfire tonight, everyone will enjoy a different voice." Naomi suggested, gesturing to the rapidly filling seats. Sometime during their conversation, the fire had been stroked and had risen high, illuminating the forest through the night. 

The reflection of the flames danced across Naomi's face, making her seem dangerous and threatening, but the expression she held was soft as she waited patiently for his answer.

"Sure." He said, unable to refuse her kindness.