As Brielle and Percy settled into life at Camp Half-Blood, they delved into a world brimming with myth and magic, forming deep bonds with fellow demigods and fantastical creatures. Among their new companions were Grover, a steadfast satyr who had al...
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𝓦ho would have known this was how my summer was going to turn out? I had just expected an endless amount of blue pancakes and laying in bed, wondering how I differ from everyone else. but it seems that I wouldn't have to wonder about that anymore. now that I've found out I was a demigod. a daughter of poseidon. oh, my brother too.
no one would have seen it coming either. the events that are about to unfold. I, brielle hali jackson, am going to fight the god of war. but to be quite frank, the only thing i'm worried about right now, is that if my friends back at yancy academy were here, they'd be betting on ares to win.
Combat made me reflect on the moments the son of Hermes taught me how to fight.
"Look, you didn't ask to be a half-blood," he began, his voice steady and reassuring, "but you are one. That makes you part of something bigger than yourself."
It was a Thursday afternoon, three days after my arrival at Camp Half-Blood, when I had my first sword-fighting lesson. Everyone from Cabin Eleven gathered in the big circular arena, its stone floor gleaming under the afternoon sun. The air was thick with the metallic tang of weapons and the earthy scent of the training ground. Luke, with his confident stance and easy smile, would be our instructor.
We were training in dueling pairs. Luke announced he would be my partner since it was my first time. "Good luck," one of the campers said with a mix of sarcasm and concern, his tone as cutting as a blade. "Maybe go a little easy on me," I called to Luke, my voice tinged with a nervous laugh. He flashed a reassuring grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners. The camper next to me snorted, clearly amused and ready to mock me.
Luke demonstrated a disarming technique: how to twist the enemy's blade with the flat of your own sword. His movements were fluid and precise, every step calculated. His muscles rippled under his camp shirt, and there was an effortless grace in the way he moved, like a predator stalking its prey.
"We keep sparring until one of us pulls it off. Ready, Aurora?" I scoffed at the nickname but nodded, my grip tightening on the unfamiliar hilt. Luke advanced, his gaze locked onto mine, and somehow, I managed to fend off his initial attacks. My senses heightened, each movement of his sword appearing in sharp detail. I countered, stepping forward and attempting a thrust of my own. Luke deflected it effortlessly, but I saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes. His demeanor shifted, becoming more focused and intense, the playful light in his eyes replaced by a serious glint.
The sword grew heavy in my hand, its balance feeling awkward and unwieldy. I knew it was only a matter of seconds before Luke disarmed me, so I decided to take a risk. What did I have to lose?
