Persephoneia Jackson And The Olympians

C∆PTURE THE FL∆G: DEMIGOD STYLE

Within the next few days I settled into my new routine rather easily all things considered - I did have a tendency to go with the flow of things (to an extent obviously but more on that later).

Every morning, I'd get Ancient Greek lessons from a child of Athena, Malcolm Reeds. Although it was supposed to be Annabeth who taught me but it was ultimately decided that Malcolm would be the better option of the two, seeing as the whole Camp was well aware of her intense dislike, possibly hatred, for me.

Seriously, it wasn't necessarily my fault that Luke and I hit it off straight away. And Malcolm was Cabin Six's (that would be Lady Athena's Cabin) sort of second-in-command, so Chiron wisely (and oh boy was that a surprise) let him be the one to teach me. Anyways, Malcolm had us reading Homer and the like, and it was really good to brush up on my mythology seeing as I'm officially living in their world now. And wow. Reading Ancient Greek was significantly easier than trying to read regular English or my mom's second language of French and it was pretty much as easy as Latin for me. Malcolm said that it's because our brains were hardwired for the language as well as ancient languages as a whole which I thought was pretty darn cool.

After that Malcolm and I would separate and I'd rotate through the whole Camp, looking for something I was good at. We initially started with archery first given the reveal of my superb aim with sharp pointy things or blunt and/or heavy objects when I'd nailed one of Clarisse's brothers (Ellis Wilkins) in the back of the head with a pebble from roughly a yard away. Chiron decided that in order to get back into my good graces he'd personally try to teach me archery, instead of y'know apologizing. Well, that certainly went well (note the sarcasm please), I had to (insincerely I'll freely admit) apologize to him because he had to detangle a stray arrow from his tail, which I genuinely had absolutely no idea how it got there seeing as he was standing behind me when I fired the shot in the first place. I also had to (sincerely this time) apologize to the others who were practicing on the range, seeing as my arrows would always find the most inopportune of moments to distract them when they were letting theirs fly. And yet, instead of being angry or even mildly irritated at me, they just laughed good-naturedly and asked if I could come back and do "my kind" of archery, since it was helping them sharpen their own senses. Seeing as almost every person there was blonde-haired and/or blue-eyed, a sure mark of Apollo if there ever was one, I just shrugged and grinned bashfully; making some of the girls squeal and some guys smile at me. I just laughed and shook my head as I left to find another thing to do.

Next, I tried foot racing. Not one of my brightest ideas, I'll admit. The instructors were either nymphs or dryads, so naturally, they developed a style that would have any and all marathon runners gaping at them in disbelief. I mean, with gods constantly at their heels, would it really be all that surprising? I told the instructors this and they just sort of froze for a few seconds before they all started laughing literally until they collapsed from lack of oxygen. They did tell me I did a much better job than most (apart from a handful of Lord Hermes' kids who were lightning fast on their feet) in keeping up with them which was to be expected when one spends 95% of their dreams training with their brother dodging his trident's swings and thrusts (anyone who says Triton isn't a good fighter is either a dumbass or has never been on the receiving end of his trident in their lives because that is the biggest load of shit I've ever heard).