Anyone who knows Arya Jackson for more than five minutes knows her opinion of the world, and demigods not so fair place in it. Unfortunately, since the war Arya isn't that easy to get to know. To most she's little more than a legend.
Arya is fine w...
"It takes ten times longer to put yourself back together as it does to fall apart"
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Chapter 6:
Close Quarters
REGRET WASN'T THE BEST WAY to describe what Ace was feeling, but it was the only feeling he could think of as he paced back and forth in his cabin.
It had been an hour or so since the lights went out. Frank and Hazel could sense Ace's unease and invited him to hang out with them. They assured him that he made the right call in holding off on sharing his family history. It wasn't them Ace was worried about though. It was the Greeks who seem like they're quick to judge, it was Arya who Ace found himself wanting to impress.
He kept telling himself that leaving was the right choice. That once this whole petty Greek and Roman fighting got settled both sides would be far more forgiving. He kept telling himself that he would get to go home. College was waiting if he could just help save the world first.
It was the small voice in the back of his head that was giving him the doubt. The reminder that if this goes wrong, that if Ace wasn't good enough his own brother will likely be the one to put him to death. Cyrus would never dare to look at Ace as a son again.
He unloaded his bag. Skylar packed a handful of books that Ace would probably have to ration, plenty of medical supplies, probably more than he needed. She packed Ace a week's worth of clothes, his glasses, and his notebook.
Ace took the time to hook his bow and quiver up on the wall and grab his swords.
There wasn't much room, but it was enough to spin them around slowly and get himself further acquainted with them. It was his third time with them in his hands, and they still felt as useless as they did the first time. Ace had never been taught double swords, and what he had learned with a single sword was passable at best. Romans were defensive fighters, double swords from what Ace knew about combat strategy were mostly offensive.
Ace wanted to try and push the light through them. Apollo had mentioned that they would help control his photokinesis. The small cabin probably wasn't the best place to start.
He sheathed the swords and hung them next to the bow before taking a seat at his desk and ran his hands through his hair letting out a big sigh. Ace had been through more in the last forty-eight hours than he had been in the last ten years.
Regret and overwhelmed.
Two emotions Ace tried to actively avoid in his life.
He was about to give up and crawl into bed when he heard the first scream.
