𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐄𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐒𝐄 - [𝐩. 𝐣𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧]¹

005 | unexpected visitors

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PERCY WAS AVOIDED like the plague.

As soon as he was declared son of the Sea God, he became the camp pariah. Just when he'd started to feel accepted, to feel he had a home in cabin eleven and might be a normal kid⏤or as normal as you can be when you're a half-blood⏤he'd been separated out as if he had some rare disease.

He couldn't remember a time when he felt lonelier than he did in Cabin Three.

There were six bunk beds, but each was as empty as the next. Some had even been stripped of mattresses and were just a wooden frame. A few small decorations adorned the walls⏤some seashells and the fossils of some prehistoric-looking sea animal⏤but other than that, the room was abysmal. Percy didn't have much stuff either: the Minotaur's horn, one set of spare clothes, a toiletry bag, and a small bag of blue candy that his mom had given him. But that barely filled up his nightstand. There was too much empty space and no one to talk to.

It didn't get better outside of the cabin either. Nobody mentioned the hellhound, but Percy got the feeling they were all talking about it behind his back. The attack had scared everybody. It sent two messages: one, that Percy was a forbidden child and two, monsters would stop at nothing to kill him. They could even invade a camp that had always been considered safe.

Cabin Eleven was too nervous to have sword class with him after what he'd done to the Ares folks in the woods, so his lessons with Luke became one-on-one. Luke pushed him harder than ever, and wasn't afraid to bruise him up in the process.

"You're going to need all the training you can get," he promised, as they were working with swords and flaming torches. "Now let's try that viper-beheading strike again. Fifty more repetitions."

Annabeth still taught Percy Greek in the mornings, but she seemed distracted. Every time he said something, she scowled at him, as if he'd just poked her between the eyes. After lessons, she would walk away muttering to herself: "Quest...Poseidon?...Dirty rotten...Got to make a plan..."

He hadn't seen Atala in days.

Even Clarisse kept her distance, though her venomous looks made it clear she wanted to kill him for breaking her magic spear. Percy wished she would just yell or punch him or something. He'd rather get into fights every day than be ignored.

He knew somebody at camp resented him, because when he came into his cabin later that night, there was a newspaper dropped inside the doorway, a copy of the New York Daily News, opened to the Metro page.