CHAPTER 5: CAMP THÁRROS
That Saturday night in her bedroom, Athena opened the book at random and found a split between the pages, looking closer; she pulled out an envelope which was old and wizened, frail and moth eaten. Curiously Athena turned it over as the front was blank. The seal was blood red and tinted black with age; in fact, it actually looked like blood, the way it gleamed in the light. Peering closer, she noticed that someone had marked something in ink: για την τύχη (gia ti̱n týchi̱).
This was certainly not English, all these funny symbols, what did they mean? Athena wanted to open it but felt that she didn’t need whatever was in there, at least not for now. However, she noted down the page she found it on, then slipped it back into the page split, and then flicked over to the next page.
‘Camp Thárros’. There it was again. Those magical words that filled her with joy and intrigue, with no reason whatsoever. She continued reading:
‘Camp Thárros is a delightful summer school in which the occupants spend their time in log cabins learning about the ancient Greeks. The occupants spend their time learning things like the Greek alphabet and words, the “beliefs” of the Greeks, Greek history, the Greek background and they also participate in activities such as sports and woodlands, team building exercises, archaeological digs, night walks, lessons in astronomy and Kataskeví studies (creativity). They continue these studies over the course of six weeks. The occupants get a chance to make friends and learn most of what they need to know, as humans, about our culture, without knowing that it is in fact reality. Camp Thárros was ordered to be set up so that humans could understand the way we live and how things came to be. It was decided among the gods that the decree carried out showed the majority vote was for humans to learn about our world. Camp Thárros was originally used to see if any Magikós bloods that attended the camp could find the gateway and become the hero. However, even when Diávolos stepped down, the hero had not been found; they continued to run Camp Thárros in the hope that one day- as the prophecy foretold- fate would accompany the hero/heroine to the mainland to save us all. The motto was “even though we are dead and gone, Camp Thárros shall still live on”.’
There was a strange feeling inside her now, a small part of her wanted to thrust the covers back and research this stunningly bewildering ‘Camp Thárros’ that enthralled her but, as she glanced at the clock, it revealed that it was 12 am. So she hastily shoved the book into the box and made a mental note to research this Camp Thárros tomorrow with Tom. Slowly, she drifted off into a deep sleep.
That night was like most other nights, Athena’s subconscious brain filled with the memory of her dad’s death, if you could call it a memory, she was never there, it was more of a vision.
Her dad was scurrying around for something, he found it, the car roared into life and then it swerved to a halt near some trees. They spiralled around him, he gasped for breath as he approached the gate. A figure loomed into view, piercing and vast, as they discussed something, the dark striking figure started to roar and yell, it clubbed a hand to her dads face, and scratched and hit. The dream was now a blur of a bloody mess,Athena found herself trying so hard to yell “NO, NO, NO, NOT MY DAD” but not a croak would issue from her mouth. Doubled over, her dad was now writhing uncontrollably on the floor in a blood-stained mess. Athena wanted so desperately to help, she needed to help, but it was too late. He was gone. And he had been for over three years.
When she awoke on Sunday morning, Athena found her bed sheets in a crumpled mess where she must’ve twisted and turned in her sleep. As she sat up, she rearranged them neatly (or as neat as she could manage) and then trailed downstairs to the glorious smell of bacon and eggs.
“Hi hun” Hilary chirped as Athena wondered sleepily into the kitchen.
“Hi” Athena grunted, she then sat hopefully at the table holding her knife and fork in either hand as Hilary swooped over and dished out the breakfast in her silky lilac dressing gown.
