Compilation of Less Depressing Favorite Stories

Untitled Demigod Story Part 8

I woke in the sick bay, though I'm not totally sure how I got here. I didn't black out, I'm sure of that. Wait, but maybe I did.

Maybe I did.

But I didn't. I strictly remember not passing out. See, that's the great thing about me— I have a photographic memory. I remember the fights I've had with everyone I've ever fought, their fighting style and their preferred terrain. Most say I'm the best demigod they've ever had the pleasure of challenging. Except for my older sister, Clarisse.

No one beats Clarisse.

She's the violent activities director. No one messes with her authority. They mess with her, Clarisse makes their life a living hell.

The sick bay has seemed to have undergone a series of renovations since the last time I was here, which was a few months ago when I came down with influenza. New wallpapers, TVs, and other medical stuff. Over me stood one of the healer Apollo kids. Of course. They're healers, about half of them anyway. The rest are musicians or authors. But why am I surprised? It's not Like I should've been expecting anyone different, like a certain daughter of Demeter...

Wow, they must've shot me up on some kind of new drug.

"You're awake." He said.

"Not like I'm dead yet," I replied. "What have you got me loaded up on, anyway?"

"Ambrosia and acetaminophen."

"Huh?" What the hell's acetaminophen? That's not a traditional demigod drug.

"Tylenol, painkiller." He says.

"Ah, effective." I acknowledge with what most likely is a maniacal smile.

He nods his head and sticks out his hand. "I'm not an actual doctor, so I can still introduce myself in a way that doesn't involve them calling me 'Doctor'. I'm Wesley. Wesley Morgan." I realized for the first time that he spoke with a hint of a British accent.

"Ozias Andino. Are you from England? It sounds like so."

"Yeah, mate. You?"

"Ελλάδα. Επίσης, δεν μπόρεσα να αναφέρω ότι μιλάω άπταιστα Ελληνικά, μόνο όπως μερικοί από εμάς εδώ μπορούν."

"I know. Everyone knows you. We heard about your quest, and we all volunteered. Only a matter of time before we get to go. We were all kinds of excited to meet you. You're a one of a kind medical mystery. No one passes out the way you did, and your memory of the event seems to be shot too. Unfortunately, we do not yet have the medical equipment to fully diagnose your issue, but we're doing the best we can." Wesley blurts.

"Also, we heard that you received a prophecy. Can you remember any of it?" Another kid with an Irish accent says.

"Ireland?" I ask.

"Tá ar ndóigh."

"But yes, I do remember the prophecy." I tap my temple. "Photographic memory."

I close my eyes. "Όταν έρθει η στιγμή που το πρώτο ξαναγεννηθεί,

Δύο αδέλφια προκαλούν μια ηλικία αφθονίας.

Μόλις το φεγγάρι γίνει φωτεινό,

Μια ανόητη επιλογή θα προκαλέσει την άνοδο ενός νέου θεού και

μιας εποχής ευημερίας.

Όταν έρθει η στιγμή που η θάλασσα καταβροχθίζει τη γη,

Δύο αδέλφια προκαλούν την άνοδο μιας αυτοκρατορίας.

Όταν έρθει η ώρα που ο αδελφός γίνεται ο πατέρας,

Ο κατηγορούμενος θα προωθήσει μια εποχή πείνας."

I opened my eyes and every pair of exophthalmos is trained on me.

"What?"

"Mate, you— you just—"

"Now that's a medical mystery right there."

"Shh." Wesley shhed.

"Ah, shut up, Wesley."

"Shut up Jake."

"I don't— I don't understand your request." I stammered.

"That was some magical SHIT, mate!"

"What happened?"

"You kind of like, glowed. And channeled a different... person?" Wesley said obviously dumbfounded.

This intrigued me. "Who'd I sound like?"

"I don't know. But you glowed."

I began to stand. "What? I don't glow."

"You did today." Wesley eased me back into the cot. "You need rest. Reciting a prophecy like that, especially translating it into another language can't be that easy. Get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

"I can't..." I try. It only comes out as a mere whisper. Wesley's hands on my shoulders glow a faint warm light that makes me drowsy. I close my eye and the world slips into darkness.