Forgotten memories

An helping hand...

The weight of the Oracle's presence lingered in the air as Grover and Percy reluctantly shouldered the responsibility of carrying her back to the attic. The rest of us watched them, well aware that popularity wasn't the deciding factor in this choice. The disheveled mummy added an eerie touch to the scene as they disappeared from view.

In the aftermath, as I retrieved my dagger from the ground, a sharp slapping sound disrupted the uneasy quiet. I turned swiftly to witness a hunter, Pheobe, slapping Christine. Intrigued and concerned, I jogged towards them.

"You were instructed not to..." the hunter began, but Christine cut her off defiantly. 

"To not what? Acknowledge a fair fight?" she retorted, gesturing towards me, making it evident that I was the perceived problem.

Zoë, looking paler than usual, approached the scene. Her usually tight braid was looser, and the news of the Oracle's predicament seemed to have affected her deeply. Phoebe persisted in accusing me of helping Christine, casting me as the villain in this situation. Zoë, with a glare towards me and a fleeting sorrow in her eyes, turned her attention to Pheobe.

 "What did he do to Christine?" she inquired. Pheobe proceeded to recount our earlier encounters, from the fistfight during the game to the surprising camaraderie that followed. Zoë's anger intensified, but it wasn't directed at Christine; it was aimed squarely at me.

As Zoë approached, I glanced at Chiron, who seemed wide-eyed and prepared to intervene. However, Zoë's heated shouting drowned out Chiron's attempts to calm the situation.

"Thy dare to undermine us by giving us your help!" Zoë yelled at me, her anger palpable. I had reached the limit of my tolerance for her accusations.

"Undermine? I did what anyone would do! She offered me a helping hand, and I reciprocated as a normal human being!" I retorted, my frustration turning into anger. My fists clenched involuntarily.

Zoë responded with a barrage of slurs in Old English, Greek, and even Latin. Attempting to calm myself, I took a deep breath. However, Zoë's continued verbal assault pushed me to my limit.

"Look, if she didn't want my help, she could have said no," I stated, attempting reason. But before I could say more, I was sucker-punched in the chin by Pheobe, knocking the breath out of me. In my peripheral vision, I noticed Chiron attempting to intervene, only to be blocked by more hunters. Thalia also tried, but her path was similarly obstructed.

Struggling to catch my breath, I looked up at Zoë, who seemed to revel in the chaos. I rose to my feet, a sense of indignation swelling within me. "Who would have thought the hand-picked maidens of a goddess would be such hypocrites?" I taunted, staring daggers at Zoë. "And you call men barbaric?"

Pheobe, preparing for another assault, prompted an instinctive reaction from me. Without thinking, I grabbed the golden symbol on my necklace, revealing a golden spatha—a short sword from ancient Rome. I struck Pheobe in the face with the flat side of the sword. She crumpled to the ground, eliciting gasps from the onlookers, including myself. I was as surprised as anyone that I possessed such a weapon.

Zoë stared at me with a mix of awe and anger. "That's John's..." she began, her voice barely audible. "A son of Apollo never uses swords!" Her anger intensified as she regarded me.

I shrugged in response. "Well, what can I say? I'm John Pierce's son, not just Apollo's."

Finally, Chiron broke through the line, putting an end to the madness. I looked at Christine, who appeared amused but remained stone-cold. Chiron addressed the gathering with a sharp, booming voice filled with anger, urging us to focus on more pressing matters and convene a council of cabin leaders to discuss the prophecy.

Following Chiron's command, we made our way to the council. Irritated, I walked towards my cabin, but Chiron intercepted me.

"I want you to be at the council," he said, noticing my confusion. I questioned why I, as a non-counselor, should be present. Chiron shifted his hooves nervously.

"I have my reasons, Hymenaios. I want you to be there to keep Zoë... in check," he explained. Seeing my perplexed expression, he continued, "Your father was the only man Zoë ever respected, and now you are one of the men she respects out of fear. This will make her think of others, not just her hunters. Please?"

Silently nodding, I followed Chiron to the rec room, unsure of the challenges that awaited us in the upcoming council.