The Double Demigod

When You Turn A Titan Into A Vase

Tyrone

I must admit, I wasn't impressed by the Greek Fest in Knoxville. I was raised with New York style pizza and decent graffiti art- not massive amounts of feta cheese on everything and tapestries of extremely dramatic and ugly looking people half in the nude. I glanced at my watch. It was three-fifteen, and I had another three hours before my school group got to go back to the hotel and relax for the rest of the night. It didn't help I was with the world's annoying class of ninth-graders that took up all of the sidewalk, shoving me into the avenue and making me want to shove them in front of a moving car.

"Man, all this walkin' makin' me tired. I just wanna dressed sandwich and a nap." Buford James complained. I scoffed.

"Getting out of bed and walking to the bathroom makes you tired, Buford. Why don't you just shut up and stuff your face with Kalamata olives." I said to Buford. He waddled over to me. His quite corpulent body obscured most of my view. He tucked one of his fat chin rolls under another so he could look down at me properly.

"Listen here, ya lil' runt. Jus' cause you're from the fancy north doesn't mean that youz better than us. So, shut your cakehole or I'll knock your beads out." He threatened. I rolled my eyes but didn't say anything. Buford narrowed his eyes at me and turned back around and spread his legs to he could walk without chafing.

"Et non aperiet os suum." I casted. There was a ripple in the air similar to heat waves above a fire. It wrapped around Buford's face and sunk into his skin. When Alexanderia (yeah, that's his name) asked him what he wanted to do, he attempted to open his mouth, but failed. His jaw was moving up and down in mouth- but his lips refused to separate. It was quite funny to watch him attempt to pry his lips apart with his fat, sausage fingers.

"Okay! Everybody buddy up and meet back here in twenty minutes!" My teacher announced. To be honest, it wasn't very smart to let a bunch of Creoles run around at a Greek festival. The school said it was an attempt to "let the kids experience other cultures outside of the ones they actively interact with on a daily basis."

"Peyton album est fallacia." The illusion of Disney Channel star Peyton List materialized next to me. I grabbed her hand and walked away from the rest of the class, making it look like I had a buddy. Once in a spot where I was out of sight, I let go of her hand and dismissed the illusion. Cracks in her skin formed and she crumbled into dust.

I stepped away from the illusion's remains and began roaming the Festival. I spotted a few other school groups and miserable looking students that had been brought to the fest just to get away from school. I related to them on a very deep level. I came to the fest to get away... Get away from them.

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Thirty minutes later and five samples of Greek food with either feta cheese or Kalamata olives later, I stumbled upon an art booth. It had various pictures and vases and a rolled-up tapestry.

I walked by a mirror in an ornate pin frame with Greek letters carved into the wood. I looked at my reflection in the dusty surface and notice something odd.

Right in the center of the mirror was a circle with curved lines and a ninja-star in the center. I knew what it was.

"Excuse me?" I waved for the owner to come to over to me. An ancient old woman shuffled quickly to me in a shawl and looked up at me with huge wiry glasses.

"Yes, dear? How can I help you?" She had a bit of a crazed look in her cloudy green eyes.

"Where did you get this mirror?" It was a simple question, but the pained look in her eyes suggested something much deeper than comprehendible. The woman moved me in front of the mirror once more, and the sign of Hecate glowed in the reflection once more.