At Death's Gate (on hold)

Chapter 3

Even before PE officially started, I knew this teacher should get his head looked at.

The gymnasium was a big room, looking every bit the gymnasium as it should. Beside the targets for archery and sword fighting, there was a crack in the ground that spit fire in nondescript gaps and we had to run on it while trying not to be burned to death.

The coach was a different story as well. Coach Carter was a giant of a man, his light salt and pepper hair cut short to his scalp military style and he had an insane look in his almost black eyes.

Luckily, I had PE with Heath and his brunette friend who introduced himself as Preston, lineage of Demeter. He told me he could make seeds grow faster than normal and occasionally talk to flowers. I didn't know what I should do with this information.

Together we ran the burning way of death without getting burned (some in our class weren't that lucky and I was glad I played soccer at my last school) and I panted when I reached Coach Carter.

The Coach looked at us approvingly and pointed to the bench. "Everyone grab their weapons!"

I personally thought he sounded way too excited yelling that.

I was the only person not grabbing anything (mainly because I didn't own an ancient weapon) and the Coach stared me down with his black eyes. 

"Why aren't you getting your weapon?", he yelled at me.

"I don't have one", I answered. "I am Daphne Hayes, I am new."

Coach still stared down at me before unfolding his massive arms. "Then we will get one for you from the armory, if that little girl hasn't robbed us completely, yet."

I just knew he was talking about Liv.

"Everyone practice sparring!", Coach yelled at the others. "Wounding is okay, but no deaths!" He turned around and I heard him mutter under his breath. Something sounded like 'I don't want to clean that mess. Again.' But I am pretty sure it was my imagination.

The armory was right next to the gym, a big room with everything the ancient Greek would have liked to have in his bedroom. Shields, swords, bows, quivers, spears, daggers. 

Coach looked through all the weapons before he grabbed a small sword from the wall. "Try this."

I lifted it up, but it didn't feel quite right. Coach must had come to the same conclusion because he grabbed it from my hands while muttering "No, not that one.".

We went through weapon after weapon, daggers (not my style at all), spears (I looked ridiculous with those, besides not being able to carry them properly), swords (Not a single one was perfect for my hand) and finally bows. 

The bow was the only weapon I could hold and fire properly and I didn't feel as awkward as before.

"Still not right", Coach murmured again but sighed. "You're a special case like Hector. He also didn't agree with a single weapon in the armory. I will have Malory make you a sword."

"Who is Malory?", I asked.

"Malory is from the lineage of Hephaestus; she can make marvelous swords."

He handed me a quiver. "But to pass the time, you will use the bow. It seems to be the only weapon agreeing with you right now."

We went back out in the gymnasium and nobody had gotten themselves killed. Someone bled an awful lot though, but Heath was at his side and tended his wound.

"Who cut him?", Coach yelled, and everybody stopped doing what they were doing (mostly hitting each other with swords).

After two seconds of absolute silence, everyone pointed at a young boy with brown hair and dark eyes.