Rainbow Drops [PJ]

Κεφάλαιο I - Money Bags

August, 2004

Beads of sweat formed on my forehead as we clashed our swords together, the sound of gritting metal echoed around the training arena.

"Focus, Aurora."

I ducked as my opponent swung his sword at my head. If I hadn't had been wearing a helmet, that could have been fatal.

I took a jab at his lower abdomen, trying to catch him off guard, but Luke was too quick. He caught my sword with mine and twisted it out of my hand.

I sighed, accepting defeat, as Luke held his sword to my throat. There was no chance of winning, Luke was the best swordsman that Camp Half-Blood had had for centuries.

"You need to focus more," Luke's husky voice murmured, lowering his sword from my throat.

I rolled my eyes. Luke always told me to focus. "You tried to kill me," I pointed out, gesturing to my head.

"You should be wearing a helmet, I told you."

"You don't wear one."

"I've been training longer than you at swordfighting," Luke shot back.

We gathered up all our weapons and walked over towards the weapons shed.

"Actually, I've been training here for longer."

"But I'm better." Luke flashed me his award-winning smile.

"You won't be able to fit in the shed if you get anymore big-headed," I muttered under my breath.

"What?"

"Nothing, Luke, darling."

I put my bent sword back on the shelf. It was the third one I'd broken this week. Luke was going harder on me than he normally did, I had no idea why.

Luke came into the shed behind me, whipping his forehead with the bottom of his camp t-shirt. I adverted my eyes from his toned abdomen.

"I'll be glad when this summer heat finally goes away," he muttered.

Gulping down about a litre of water from my flask, I couldn't help but agree. This summer had been particularly hot, leaving many demigods dehydrated and dizzy from the heat, especially when training. Warnings has been going around about training times in the direct sunlight and water consumption.

The children of Apollo had taken it upon themselves to ensure everyone stayed hydrated throughout the day. They were most likely tired from the daily complains of headaches and demigods with sunstroke.

I caught slight of myself in the reflection of one of the rusty shields. My hair was all over the place, frizzy curly sprouting from everywhere, bright pink cheeks and dry and cracked lips.

"I'm a sight for sore eyes," I murmured to myself. My camp t-shirt stuck to my back, damp from sweat. I turned to Luke, "do you have a spare shirt?"

Luke stopped polishing his favourite sword and dug around in his bag. He threw me a light blue shirt, one of his favourites.

I caught it. "You sure?"

"Yeah, take it."

I smiled in gratitude, gladly taking off my damp t-shirt and slipping on Luke's clean shirt. My stomach took a whirl as I smelt Luke's scent lingering on the item of clothing. It was such a distinctive smell which was so bland yet so intense at the same time, which sort of reminded me of a mix between fresh laundry and timber.

"You're going to have cooties on your shirt now," I said, turning back around.

"Oh, dear, what shall I do," Luke smirked, not looking up from finishing his polishing.