Not a Hero

chapter six

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐆𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐄𝐎'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃.

"What'd I do?" He was backing away towards the lake. Jason wanted to assure him, tell him everything was alright, but even he wasn't sure what was going on. It did feel normal though. It shouldn't but it did for some reason. "Is my hair on fire?" Leo kept ducking his head and the symbol followed him, bobbing up and down in the air. 

"This can't be good," Butch muttered. "The curse -" Curse? Before Jason could ask him what he was talking about, Annabeth told him to shut up. 

Then, she turned to face Leo. "Leo," she said, her voice patient, "you've been claimed -" 

"By a god," Jason interrupted. He hadn't meant to but he had blurted it out again his will. "That's the symbol of Vulcan, isn't it?" He wished he hadn't spoken - now everyone was looking at him. Staring. He wasn't overly fond of the attention. 

Annabeth's tone was careful when she spoke. "Jason," she asked, "how did you know that?" 

"I'm not sure," said Jason, honest. He was just as confused as everyone else. How did he know all of this? Maybe it had something to do with his missing memory? 

"Vulcan?" demanded Leo, making everyone look at him again, for which Jason will be eternally thankful. "I don't even like Star Trek. What are you talking about?" 

Annabeth shot a pointed look at Jason. "Vulcan," she explained, "is the Roman name for Hephaestus, the god of blacksmiths and fire." The fiery hammer had faded but Leo was still swatting at the air, as if he was afraid it will continue to follow him. 

"The god of what? Who?" 

Annabeth ignored Leo and instead turned the blonde guy from before - the one she called Will. "Will, would you take Leo, give him a tour?" she asked. "Introduce him to his bunkmates in Cabin Nine." 

"Sure, Annabeth," he responded. 

"What's Cabin Nine?" asked Leo, looking more confused than Jason for once. "And I'm not a Vulcan!" 

Will put a hand on Leo's shoulder. "Come on, Mr. Spock, I'll explain everything." Will then steered Leo away from the crowd and down the path which led to the cabins. 

Then Annabeth turned to look at him. Jason didn't like it when Annabeth looked at him. She was really intimidating. Her grey eyes were studying him like he wasn't a human but a complicated blueprint she was trying to read. "Hold out your arm," she finally said. 

Jason wasn't wearing his windbreaker anymore, he lost it in the lake, so his arms were bare. Then, as he stretched out his arms, he noticed something. A tattoo inside his right forearm. He wasn't sure where he got the tattoo from, he did have the amnesia after all, and frowned as he looked at it. 

It was darkly etched - a dozen straight lines like a bar code and over that was an eagle with the letters SPQR. It was kind of ugly, Jason had to admit. He wondered if the tattoo had some sort of symbolic meaning. 

Annabeth frowned at the tattoo. "I've never seen marks like this." She looked up at him. "Where did you get them?" 

Jason stared at her, deadpan. Hadn't she listened to a word of his story? "I'm getting really tired of this," said Jason, his voice weary, "but I don't know." I don't think I want to, thought Jason. 

All of the other campers were pushing forward, trying to catch a glimpse of the tattoo. It made him uncomfortable, he didn't like all of this attention, but none of them seemed to care very much. The marks seemed to bother them though. They were glaring at it like it was declaration of war or something. Or something...