Heavens fallen to the sea

Chapter Eight: Secrets and Shadows

The next few days at camp passed in a blur for Brandon. Word of his powers spread fast, and now it felt like every corner he turned, someone was watching him. Conversations stopped when he walked by, whispers followed him through the training fields, and campers gave him wide berths. The easygoing camp life that had existed before his reveal was gone, replaced by tension.

To Brandon's surprise, no one openly challenged him again, but the silence felt worse somehow. He preferred the mockery, the snide comments, over the uneasy stares. At least when they were mocking him, they weren't afraid of him. Now? Now they looked at him like he was a ticking bomb.

Percy and Annabeth stuck close to him, though. Percy especially, always checking in, always ready with that easygoing smile that said, "It's going to be fine." Brandon wished he could believe him.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that something darker was lurking just beneath the surface. Every time he tried to reach for his powers again during training, something blocked him. It was like the force he'd tapped into during his confrontation with Connor had gone dormant, retreating deep into the shadows of his mind. He couldn't control it—not really. And that terrified him more than anything else.

One evening, after another long day of avoiding people and pretending like everything was fine, Percy found him sitting by the lake, staring out over the water. The sky was a deep orange, the sun just dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the camp. The calm ripple of the water made it seem like the world was at peace, but inside, Brandon felt far from it.

"You okay?" Percy asked as he sat down next to him.

Brandon didn't answer for a moment, just continued to stare at the lake. "I don't know," he admitted finally. "I don't think I'll ever be okay here."

Percy frowned, his expression thoughtful. "It's hard at first. Trust me, I get it. But you don't have to be perfect, you know? No one expects that from you."

Brandon shook his head. "It's not that. It's..." He paused, searching for the right words. "I don't know who I am anymore, Percy. I didn't ask for this—any of it. Being Hera's kid, having these powers... I don't even know what I can do, and it's like everyone's waiting for me to mess up."

Percy leaned back, glancing up at the sky. "I know it feels like the whole camp is watching you. But that's just part of being a demigod. We all have this pressure on us—like the world expects us to fail. But that doesn't mean we're going to."

Brandon sighed, running a hand through his messy curls. "I can't control it. The power. I don't even know what it is. And it feels... dangerous."

Percy nodded slowly, his face unreadable. "Maybe we can figure it out together. We can talk to Chiron or—"

"No," Brandon cut in, his voice sharper than he intended. He winced at his own tone. "I mean... I don't want everyone to know. Not yet."

Percy studied him for a long moment, then shrugged. "Alright, your call. But you don't have to deal with it alone, okay?"

Brandon nodded, but the knot in his chest didn't loosen. The truth was, he wasn't even sure what he was dealing with. Something inside him, something tied to Hera, felt *wrong*—like it didn't belong to him. Every time he thought about it, a heavy sense of dread settled over him.

And then there were the dreams.

They started that night. A deep, suffocating darkness, endless and cold. He couldn't see anything, couldn't move, but he could hear a voice. It was faint at first, like a whisper on the wind, but then it grew louder, more insistent.

*"Brandon..."*

He jolted awake in a cold sweat, heart pounding in his chest. His cabin was dark, but he could still feel the presence of something—something old, something watching him. He squeezed his eyes shut and pulled the blankets up to his chin, trying to convince himself that it was just a dream.

But it happened again the next night. And the night after that.

Every time, the dream was the same. The same darkness, the same voice, whispering his name. It sounded distant but familiar, like someone he should know. And every time, he woke up feeling like something was slipping away from him, something important.

One night, unable to take it anymore, Brandon decided to confront whatever it was head-on. He slipped out of his bunk, careful not to wake the others, and crept out of the Hermes cabin into the cool night air. The camp was quiet, the only sound the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze. The moon hung low in the sky, casting pale light over the campgrounds.

He found himself wandering toward the forest, drawn by some unseen force. The dream had left a strange pull on him, and though his instincts screamed to turn back, something deeper urged him forward.

The forest was eerily quiet as he walked beneath the towering trees, the shadows thick and unnerving. He didn't know what was in store for him.