Forgotten memories

My head is hurt

The cabins sprawled in a bizarre arrangement, an assortment of structures like no other. Towers of Zeus and Hera, grand with white columns—Cabins One and Two—dominated the center. Flanking them were five cabins for gods on the left and five for goddesses on the right, forming a U around the central green and the barbecue hearth. Eager to spread the word about the upcoming capture the flag, Percy and I navigated through the varied cabins.

Our journey was met with mixed responses. Percy, attempting to rouse an Ares camper from his midday nap, faced vehement protests, yelling at me to go away. Inquiring about Clarisse's whereabouts, Percy received a cryptic response: 

"Went on a quest for Chiron. Top secret!"

"Is she okay?" Percy pressed.

"Haven't heard from her in a month. She's missing in action. Like your butt's gonna be if you guys don't get outta here!"  We decided not to disturb him further. 

Eventually, we reached Cabin Three—the dwelling of Poseidon. It stood as a low gray structure crafted from sea stone, adorned with imprints of shells and coral fossils. Inside, it was as barren, except for Percy's bunk. A Minotaur horn hung on the wall, a memento from past battles. Percy carefully placed Annabeth's baseball cap on his nightstand, vowing to return it to her once we found her. He then activated his shield, its battered state a testament to recent encounters. Percy hung it next to the Minotaur horn, and I couldn't ignore the lump in his throat as he looked at the shield and baseball cap.

Trying to break the silence, I asked, "Are you and Annabeth close?"

He looked puzzled and began to flush slowly. "We have been on a couple of quests together. We fought Polyphemus when we were in the Sea of Monsters..." Percy continued, recounting their adventures. When he reached the part about a waterpark, his blush intensified. I smiled, sensing there was more to their relationship, but respecting the unspoken boundaries. After our brief exchange, I bid Percy farewell and headed to my cabin: Apollo Cabin.

Cabin 7, resplendent in solid gold, emitted a soft glow during the day, making it challenging to discern if the gold reflected or generated light. Upon entering, I encountered a few faces preparing for dinner. A boy around 12, a spitting image of my father, sported shaggy blond hair, blue eyes, and an athletic build. Another guy, shorter and roughly my age, had musteline features with a scrunched-up face. Beside him stood a blond, blue-eyed guy about the same age as me too, exuding a popstar aura, and a young ginger girl, about 10 or 11 years old. The popstar-looking guy approached me with a friendly smile.

"Hello! You must be the new camper that just arrived! I'm Lee Fletcher! This is Michael Yew..." He gestured to the short, black-haired guy. "This is Will Solace..." he gestured at the guy resembling my father. "Then there is Kayla Knowls," he gestured to the girl. "We are all the year-round campers. If you're here in the summer, you should see a lot more of us."

I smiled, greeting my newfound half-siblings. "Neaus Pierce, nice to meet you all."

"Is your name really Neaus?" asked the little girl, Kayla.

"Well, no. My name is Hymenaios, but it's pronounced Hyme-naeus. With a little tweak, it became Neaus," I explained plainly.

"But why?" she inquired with curiosity.

I shrugged. "I don't know." Before others could delve into why I didn't know, a commanding voice boomed behind me. I turned around and saw Chiron in centaur form.

"He has memory loss, but he is very well trained and has magical weapons. I hope to refresh your memory," Chiron stated, giving me a warm smile. "The rest of you, go to dinner. Hymenaios, walk with me."

The brief journey with Chiron to what appeared to be the sword arena was accompanied by an inexplicable tension that lingered in the air, casting a shadow over the surroundings. As we distanced ourselves from the others, Chiron finally broached the subject.

"Do you remember anything from your past life? Anything at all?" His inquiry held a warm tone, reminiscent of a grandfather coaxing childhood memories. I merely shook my head, concealing one piece of recollection: the face of Zoë. I chose to keep this revelation to myself.

"Pierce. Is that your last name?" Chiron raised an eyebrow as he scrutinized me. Affirmatively, I nodded and retrieved my passport, offering it to him. As he examined the document, his expression transformed from curiosity to near certainty. "Does the name John Pierce mean anything to you?"

The question hung in the air, but the name John Pierce remained an elusive fragment in the mosaic of my memory. Shaking my head, I questioned why I should be privy to information about someone I couldn't recall.

"John Pierce was a son of Aphrodite. He attended this camp for years before relocating to Norway. He did..." Chiron paused, as if grappling with the internal conflict of revealing too much. "Have you noticed The Hunters looking at you?" he inquired, his brow furrowed.

Reflecting on our encounter with Artemis and her hunters, I recounted to Chiron the distinct gazes of recognition from Artemis, Zoë, and the other Hunters. A subtle smile graced Chiron's lips.

"Yes, you look like him, so there's no doubt you're his son. He assisted Artemis and her hunters with a quest years ago. That's why they regard you with such attention—because you resemble one of the few men Artemis respected." Chiron spoke with pride as he shared tidbits about John.

The more he delved into the details of what seemed to be my father's exploits, an increasing headache began to gnaw at my consciousness. Though mild initially, its intensity grew steadily. Despite the discomfort, I pressed on, determined to navigate through dinner before seeking respite in sleep.

The dinner that night was a banquet of conflicting emotions for me. The culinary delights laid out before us were exceptional—barbecue, pizza, and bottomless goblets of soda were culinary bliss. Yet, my joy was overshadowed by an intensifying headache that seemed to tighten its grip with every passing moment. The outdoor pavilion, illuminated by torches and braziers, exuded warmth, but I found myself trapped in a struggle against the mounting pain.

Seating arrangements adhered strictly to camp rules, forcing me to join my cabin mates—Will, Michael, Lee, and Kayla. While Percy sat alone at the Poseidon table and Thalia occupied a solitary spot at the Zeus table, we couldn't bridge the gap between cabins. Meanwhile, Nico, a new camper with an unknown Olympian parent, was relegated to the Hermes cabin, sitting with the Stoll brothers. The brothers attempted to lure Nico into the world of poker, emphasizing its superiority over Mythomagic. I silently hoped Nico hadn't brought any money to the table.

Across the pavilion, the Artemis table radiated a sense of camaraderie. The Hunters indulged in food, drink, and laughter, embodying a cohesive family. Zoe assumed a matriarchal position at the head of the table, her silver lieutenant's band adorning her dark braids. Her occasional smiles softened her demeanor, and I couldn't help but think she looked more approachable when she did.

Bianca di Angelo, apparently enjoying herself, sought instruction in arm wrestling from a larger girl who had confronted the Ares kid on the basketball court. Despite her repeated defeats, Bianca maintained her enthusiasm. The Hunter named Christine, who had scrutinized me earlier, continued to gaze in my direction, her black hair cascading down her shoulder in a braid, and her eyes fixated on me with intensity. Each glance from her seemed to exacerbate my headache, prompting me to wince and massage my temples. As I closed my eyes in an attempt to alleviate the pain, I could sense her lingering gaze, and upon reopening my eyes, I caught a fleeting look of concern that swiftly vanished.

Following the meal, Chiron raised a customary toast to the gods and extended a formal welcome to the Hunters of Artemis, met with halfhearted applause. The atmosphere shifted when he announced a "good will" capture-the-flag game for the following night, earning a more enthusiastic response. As the night descended, we dispersed to our cabins for an early winter lights-out. Exhaustion took over, ensuring a swift descent into sleep. However, the respite was marred by a dream that felt more like a haunting memory.