𝑃𝑟𝑜𝑔𝑛𝑜𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒¹

𝐶𝑎𝑚𝑝 𝐻𝑎𝑙𝑓-𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑

‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍̊

ASTORIA WOKE UP TO the sight of a wooden ceiling, the lights almost blinding her. The room smelled of oak, pine, and strawberries. She rested on top of a couch littered with crumbs with a coffee table covered in chip bags. 'I actually made it inside.' With a heavy groan, she propped herself up. She felt drained of all her energy, almost as if she was hit by a truck going 60 mph. She stumbled her way to the door and opened it.

"Ah, Miss Astoria," Chiron greeter her. He was playing pinochle with Percy, Grover, and Mr. D on the porch of the farmhouse. The god was small and porky. He had a red nose, big watery eyes, curly hair so black it was almost purple, and wore a tiger-pattern Hawaiian shirt with his khaki shorts. Seeing the battered girl, Percy almost dropped his cards, and Grover's Diet Coke can fell out of his mouth.

"Hello Chiron, Mr. D," she gave a nod to her head as she couldn't give a proper bow due to her injuries. Since Annabeth wasn't here, Astoria knew that she missed their encounter, much to her dismay. The couple of the century just met and she missed it!

"Hmm," Mr. D placed another bet.

"You're alive!" Percy exclaimed.

"No, I'm dead." Astoria said sarcastically. She sat on the porch and leaned against the wall. "Now, continue the conversation and game. My head is throbbing and I feel like puking."

Percy blinked before looking at Chiron. "You're telling me there's such a thing as a God."

"Well, now," Chiron said. "God-capital G, God. That's a different matter altogether. We shan't deal with the metaphysical."

"Metaphysical? But you were just talking about-"

"Ah, gods, plural, as great beings that control the forces of nature and human endeavors: the immortal gods of Olympus. That's a smaller matter."

"Smaller?"

"We learned this in Latin class, Percy." Astoria spoke with her eyes closed. Her scrapes and burns hurt like a bitch.

"Zeus," Percy said. "Hera. Apollo. You mean them."

The sky thundered. 'This boy.'

"Young man," said Mr. D, "I would really be less casual about throwing those names around, if I were you."

"But they're stories," Percy fumbled. "They're myths to explain lightning and the seasons and stuff. They're what people believed before there was science."

"Science!" Mr. D scoffed. "And tell me, Perseus Jackson," Percy visibly flinched, "what will people think of your 'science' two thousand years from now?" Mr. D continued. "Hmm? They will call it primitive mumbo jumbo. That's what. Oh, I love mortals-they have absolutely no sense of perspective. They think they've come so-o-o far. And have they, Chiron? Look at this boy and tell me."

"Denial is the first stage of acceptance." Astoria commented. "And seeing is believing."

"What Astilly said." Mr. D bet a card.

"Percy," Chiron said, "you may choose to believe of not, but the fact is that immortal means immortal. Can you imagine that for a moment, never dying? Never fading? Existing, just as you are, for all time?"

Percy hesitated. "You mean, whether people believed in you or not," he said.

"Exactly," the centaur agreed. "If you were a god, how would you like being called a myth, an old story to explain lightning? What if I told you, Perseus Jackson, that someday people would call you a myth, just created to explain how little boys can get over losing their mothers?" Oof, a low blow. Astoria winced at that remark.