Down in Flames [OC Demigod Fic]

Chapter Twelve: "Home"

The door is opened by the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. She looks too young to be a grandmother, yet I can tell she is in her sixties. Cheekbones higher than Angelina Jolie's, eyebrows more on fleek than Cara Delevingne's... Seriously, the lady makes wrinkles look in style. Her hair is a dark gray color, and her eyes are the same shade of brown as mine. Even without makeup, she was stunning.

"Amalie?" She says in a lovely French accent as she sees me, her eyes popping wide open. I stand there, not sure how to respond.

"Grandmother," Atticus speaks up for me. "I'd like you to meet Sabine, Amalie's daughter."

She gives Atticus an acknowledging glance and looks back at me in astonishment. I should probably say something, maybe wave, or at least smile, but I feel as if I'm frozen in place.

"Forgive me, I thought I was going senile," she laughs, which sounds like a songbird tweeting a high pitched melody. "Come in, Sabine! Welcome home," she takes my hand and covers it with hers in a friendly gesture as I follow her into the house, which is just as lovely inside than it was on the exterior. The foyer is decorated in a French Victorian style; the living room is a Parisian theme, though it's more modern than the foyer.

"Why don't you sit while I get you two something to drink?" She offers.

"We'd be glad to, Jeanette," Atticus replies. "I'll have black coffee, as usual."

"You know, you can just call me Granny Jean," Jeanette looks at me and shakes her head, relaying the unspoken message, Can you believe this kid?

I tell her I'd like water, not wanting to be difficult to please. "Thank you very much," I say as she starts to leave the room. "Granny Jean," I add, making her smile.

Sitting on a satin sofa for the next hour, I spill my entire life story to Jean and Atticus. The parts about my mother seem to make my grandmother sad, yet she smiles knowingly when I describe what her life has been like. Though I talk about Camp Half-Blood, I leave out the part about me setting the camp to flames.

"That's just like her," Jean laughs as I tell her about how Hephaestus told me about my Roman lineage. "Amalie hated the fact that her grandparents were gods— she was mostly jealous that her brother had powers and she didn't. Then she ends up having a child with a god. And a Greek one at that! No offense, dearie," she adds, proceeding to explain that the Greeks aren't always liked by those in New Rome, but are respected all the same. Greek campers aren't typically accepted into the legion either, but my ancestry makes me an exception.

Atticus nods thoughtfully, taking a gulp of his coffee. "Sabine, have you considered which Cohort you would like be a part of?"

"Not really," I confess. Being at Camp Jupiter was enough for me, so any Cohort would be fine.

"You should be in the First Cohort with Atticus," Jean says whole-heartedly. "Just like your mother and uncle were." She looks up at the wall behind me with a smile. I turn around and see she is looking at a few framed photographs— I walk over to get a closer look at them.

The first picture looks as if it was taken by an old-fashioned camera. In it, a couple of campers in purple shirt smile back at me; the girl is Jean, only 50 years younger, and the boy must be my grandfather— he was a handsome teenager, with dark hair and freckles.

"That was taken on Warren and I's last day as campers. We were so excited— we'd just found out that we had both been accepted into New Rome University," Jean says in a happy yet nostalgic tone.

My gaze shifts to the next photo; I instantly recognize my mom. She really did look just like me as a teenager. Grinning cheesily at the camera, she has her elbow sitting on the shoulder of the taller boy next to her. He looks like Atticus, but with wild, curly hair. The boy has a baby face— marking him as the younger of the two— and a deep dimpled smile, similar to mine.

"Your Uncle, Noel," Jean answers, reading my thoughts.

Atticus looks fondly at his father's picture, then turns his focus to me. "So, what do you say, Sabine? Would you like to be a part of the First Cohort?"

I know being in the First Cohort is a great honor, but also a big responsibility. I'll have to be much more careful here; if I mess up, it will reflect badly on my entire Cohort— and my family. The question is, can I trust myself?

Nevertheless, this is my second chance, and I must make the most of it, because I don't see another one coming around.

Facing Atticus and Jean again, I don't hesitate to reply, "Yes."