▃▃▃ ᴅᴏɴᴛ ʟᴇᴛ ʜᴇʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ᴏꜰ ɪɴɴᴏᴄᴇɴᴄᴇ ꜰᴏᴏʟ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱʜᴇ ɪꜱ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇꜱᴛ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ʙᴀᴅ-ᴊ ɪʀᴏɴ ᴡᴏʀᴅ
▃▃ ʙᴏᴏᴋ 1 ▃▃ In which the only daughter of Persephone sneaks on a quest to see the world for the first time since she's been at camp. The daughter of wisdom...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⭑ ‧₊˚ ⋅ જ⁀➴๋࣭ ⭑๋࣭ ⭑
ᴅᴇᴄᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ²⁸ᴛʜ, ²⁰⁰⁰
At only seven years old, I was one of the youngest campers, and the uncertainty of being unclaimed weighed heavily on me.
"Hey, Elara!" a familiar voice called out. I turned to see Lysander, a tall twelve-year-old with a confident stride, making his way towards me. Lysander, a son of Ares, had taken me under his wing from the moment I arrived. He was like the big brother I never had.
"Hi, Lysander," I greeted, my voice small but hopeful.
"Guess what? Tomorrow's Capture the Flag!" Lysander announced with a grin. "Since you're unclaimed, you get to pick which side you want to be on."
My eyes widened. I had heard stories about Capture the Flag-how it was a rite of passage for every camper. But I also knew it involved fighting, and I had never held a sword in my life.
"I... I don't know how to fight," I admitted, looking down at my feet.
Lysander knelt down to my level, his expression softening. "Hey, it's okay. Everyone starts somewhere. How about I teach you? We'll make sure you're ready for tomorrow."
I nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude. Lysander led me to the training grounds, where he handed me a small, practice sword that was just the right size for me. It felt heavy and awkward in my hands.
"First, you need to get a good grip," Lysander instructed, demonstrating how to hold the sword properly. "Like this. Now, try to mimic my stance."
I did my best to copy him, adjusting my feet and holding the sword steady. Lysander guided me through the basics-how to swing, how to block, and how to move without losing my balance. He was patient, correcting my form and encouraging me with every step.
"Remember, it's not about strength; it's about technique and focus," Lysander said, watching me practice a series of swings. "You have to believe in yourself."
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the camp,
"You're doing great, Elara," Lysander said, ruffling my hair. "Tomorrow, you'll show everyone what you're made of."
ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛ
Camp was different in the winter.
Snow lightly fell, blanketing the strawberry fields with a frosty layer. The cabins twinkled with Christmas lights, and a fire flickered in the attic window of the Big House, where the Oracle dwelt, trapped in an old mummified body.
"Whoa," Nico said as he climbed off the bus. "Is that a climbing wall?"
