𝐚𝐳𝐚𝐞𝐥𝐚; percy jackson

𝟏𝟎 | the game begins

Meara awoke in a cold sweat, her heart racing. The remnants of a nightmare lingered in her mind—a sensation of drowning, an invisible force dragging her beneath the surface.

Luke had been the one to find her, frantic as she thrashed in her sleep, unable to snap her out of the panic attack that had gripped her.

After breakfast, Meara decided to retreat to her cabin for some solitude. Despite her dislike for being alone, she needed time to process everything.

Being by herself made her thoughts swirl, and she couldn't shake the feeling of unease.

For example, in the nursery, it helped her talking to unconscious Percy who she looked after. He couldn't listen, but it made her feel like she was sharing her thoughts with someone.

"Hey, Meara!" Annabeth's voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her back into the present. "I have the strategy for today's game. It's final, but I'm not sure you'll like it." Annabeth's tone was serious, an intensity Meara had never seen before.

"As long as it gets us the flag, go for it," Meara replied, although a sense of apprehension filled her.

"Good, because we're splitting up. You won't be with Luke and the sword fighters this time; you're with me and Percy."

"Annabeth, listen—he hates me. Didn't you hear? In the arena? I don't think that's going to work." Meara felt a knot tighten in her stomach at the thought of teaming up with Percy.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. "It's non-negotiable," she said sharply, walking away before Meara could protest further.

With a deep sigh, Meara prepared herself for the inevitable.

•

Capture the Flag was here. The entire camp seemed to buzz with excitement as the two teams lined up, ready to face off. Blue versus red. Chiron stood in the middle, explaining the rules, but Meara was only half-listening. Her gaze swept the crowd, seeking out Annabeth.

"Annabeth told me to stay with you," Percy's voice startled her from behind.

"Yeah, it's just us three," Meara replied, trying to maintain focus.

She felt uneasy as she noticed a group of campers from the red team whispering and glancing in their direction.

"No? Annabeth told me to find you, that we'd stay together for the rest of the game." He attempted to mimic Annabeth's voice, but Meara's mind was elsewhere, fixated on the potential threat ahead.

With the sound of the horn signaling the start, the game was underway.

"Percy?" Meara hissed, trying to get his attention as the group of reds began to close in on them.

"Who even plays games like this outside of kindergarten?" Percy rambled on, oblivious.

"Percy!" she snapped urgently, pointing toward the advancing red team. The playful banter between them dropped instantly, replaced by a sharp focus as they both readied for the fight ahead.

Without another word, the two darted into the cover of the trees, making quick distance between themselves and the incoming red team.

"Your armor looks... interesting," Percy said, adjusting his oversized helmet as they slowed their pace.

"Yeah, it looks even more interesting on you," Meara shot back with a teasing grin. "You picked a helmet that's too big for your head."

"Thanks for the support," Percy muttered dryly, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, come on. You did the same yesterday. Remember?" she nudged him playfully.

"Different situation," he shot back, his grin back in place, and for a moment, the weight of their earlier tension lifted.

As they continued their way through the forest, Meara couldn't help but notice Percy's healing skin—his injuries were nearly gone, the rapid recovery impressing her.

"You're healing fast," she commented.

"Yeah, yesterday's shower worked wonders," he answered with a proud smile.

"Mhm," Meara mused. "The cuts from my sword looked good on you."

Percy's smile faded as Clarisse and her team suddenly appeared, blocking their path. "Looks like the kids have become friends. How cute," Clarisse mocked, her voice laced with venom.

Meara wished desperately for her real sword, Frostbite; the ones they had now felt useless in comparison.

As the chaos of battle unfolded when they marched on them, Percy found himself on the ground, tripping over roots that snaked across the forest floor.

Meara caught a glimpse of him struggling, but her instincts kicked in as Clarisse lunged for her.

She felt the familiar rush of determination surge through her. Without hesitation, she charged directly at Clarisse, moving with rapid shuffles that kept her balanced and ready for anything.

Clarisse, sensing the approach, raised her sword high and swung down with deadly intent. This wasn't just a game anymore; Meara knew a hit like that could seriously injure her.

Reacting swiftly, Meara raised her sword, rotating it so the handle was above and to the left of her face, forming a protective barrier. Clarisse sidestepped, attempting to catch Meara off guard, but Meara was too quick, evading with an agile twist. Just as she did, another opponent joined in, aiming a strike at her leg.

Meara's training kicked in. Their timing was off, and she used that to her advantage. In a split second, she glanced over to check on Percy. He had regained his footing, battling two opponents, but in his distraction with their quick exchange of gazes, one of them managed to slash his arm.

Meara felt a surge of urgency; this wasn't the way to go.

She cut Clarisse in the leg in order to distract her long enough to lend Percy a hand.

Meara was surprised to see Percy was no slouch in a fight; he held his own with surprising skill.

Clarisse cursed under her breath, recovering quickly as she attempted to counterattack.

Meara, however, was already on the offensive, delivering a sharp cut aimed at one of Percy's assailants, allowing him to take on just one opponent.

Before she could refocus on her own fight, Clarisse pushed her hard, sending Meara's sword clattering to the ground. Meara spun back around, launching herself toward Clarisse in a blind swing, trying to smash her opponent's face, which she successfully did. The brute strength of Clarisse was impressive, but Meara had the agility and wit to outmaneuver her.

Meara heard a soft gasp as the scene unfolded, echoing eerily in the heat of battle.

She looked around for the source, but saw no one.

The momentary distraction cost her dearly; one of Percy's attackers seized the opportunity, slashing a dagger across her cheek.

Instinctively, her hand flew to the wound, fingers brushing against the warm blood.

Looking up at her attacker, she saw fear in his eyes. It fueled her adrenaline. Drawing on her inner strength, she retaliated with two swift strikes, catching him off-guard and sending him sprawling to the ground.

"Meara, slow down!" The soft female voice hissed again, urgency lacing it's tone.

"What the hell?" Meara snapped, breaking her concentration just as Clarisse took aim again.

"Meara, come here!" Percy's voice broke through the chaos as he grabbed her arm, his eyes widening when he saw the boy laid out on the ground.

"Wait, my sword!" She lunged for it, snatching it off the ground as they began to retreat.

"You did all this without a sword?" Percy exclaimed, shock mingling with admiration. "What happened to your face?" he asked, spotting the blood smeared across her cheek.

"It's just a scratch; my only one" she said, trying to keep her voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins.

"Yeah, wish I could say the same," he replied, his concern evident. Just then, he stumbled, causing them both to tumble down the beach in a messy heap.

"Go after them!" Meara heard a voice yell, while a dull ringing echoed in her ears as they rolled.