บท 100: Nature and Thunder
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{Camp Half-Blood, 12th of June 2006}
Grover POV
The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the strawberry fields of Camp Half-Blood. I, Grover Underwood, stood at the edge of the forest, my hooves shifting nervously in the grass. My heart pounded in my chest like a hummingbird's wings, and I couldn't stop fidgeting with the hem of my Camp Half-Blood t-shirt. Today was the day—my last chance to prove myself worthy of becoming a searcher.
As I made my way towards the Council of Cloven Elders, memories of my past failures threatened to overwhelm me. The image of Thalia's pine tree standing sentinel at the camp's borders was a constant reminder of my greatest mistake. But now, with Percy Jackson safely at camp, I had a shot at redemption.
The clearing where the Council met was eerily quiet. Three wooden thrones stood in a semi-circle around a stone table, each carved with intricate designs of vines and leaves. The air felt thick with anticipation, and I could sense the eyes of hidden dryads watching from the surrounding trees. Their whispers rustled through the leaves like a gentle breeze, but I knew their gossip could spread like wildfire.
"Grover Underwood, come forward," a stern voice called out, cutting through the silence.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the clearing. The three elders—Leneus, Manos, and Silenus—sat regally on their tree stumps their eyes boring into me. I felt like a rabbit caught in the gaze of three very hungry wolves.
Leneus, the center elder with a beard that seemed to have a life of its own, spoke first. "So, Grover," he began, his voice dripping with barely concealed disdain, "it seems you've brought a camper back to camp, and another child of the Big Three, no less. How... fortunate you are."
I opened my mouth to respond, but quickly thought better of it. My tendency to bleat when nervous would only hurt my case. Instead, I nodded solemnly, trying to project an air of confidence I definitely didn't feel.
Manos, the elder to the right with eyes that seemed to see right through me, continued. "At least this one arrived alive," he mused, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Though we have a few questions for you. After all, we've heard some... interesting rumors. And since your last failure has been somewhat rectified, things are looking up for you. For now."
I nodded again, a bead of sweat rolling down my temple. The weight of their scrutiny was almost unbearable.
Silenus, the left elder who had been silent until now, suddenly leaned forward. His eyes narrowed as he asked, "But we've also heard that you had to be carried by your demigod over the camp line. If Odysseus hadn't shown up when he did, would you have lost the son of the seas as well?"
The question hit me like a punch to the gut. How could I answer that? Everything they said was true. If Ozzy hadn't appeared... I shuddered at the thought. Deep down, I had a feeling that Percy and I would have been okay, but a feeling wasn't enough. Not here, not now.
Steeling myself, I finally spoke. "It's true that I had to be carried over the camp line," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "But—"
"That's enough," Silenus interrupted, his voice sharp as a blade. "So you mean to say you would have gotten not only one but two children of the Big Three killed."
I wanted to argue, to defend myself, but the words died in my throat. How could I refute that? Percy's mother had already known where Camp Half-Blood was, and Thalia... well, Thalia probably hadn't needed me at all. But I needed this. I needed to become a searcher more than I'd ever needed anything in my life.
"E-elders," I stammered, my resolve crumbling. "I protected them to the best of my ability. That's... that's all I can say."
The three elders exchanged glances, then huddled together, speaking in hushed tones. I strained my ears, trying to catch any hint of their decision, but their words were lost to me. The wait seemed to stretch on for an eternity, each second feeling like an hour.
Finally, they turned back to face me. Leneus cleared his throat, his expression unreadable. "This Council has decided," he began, and I held my breath, "to grant you your license. The son of the Earthshaker did reach camp unharmed, and the daughter of the Lord of the Skies has been cured, cleansing your previous... indiscretion."
For a moment, I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I bowed my head, partly out of respect, but mostly to hide the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. "Thank you, elders," I managed to choke out before turning and fleeing from the clearing.
As I ran, my hooves barely touching the ground, a weight lifted from my shoulders. I was free. Free to begin my search for Pan, to follow in the footsteps of my uncle and parents. This was my beginning, my chance to make a difference.
I couldn't wait to tell Percy the news.
Thalia POV
The attic of the Big House loomed before me, a treasure trove of demigod history and, if the rumors were true, a direct line to prophecy. After what felt like hours of pestering, Chiron had finally relented and allowed me access. I needed a quest, or at least permission to leave camp. Though, if I'm being honest, I had already made up my mind. Permission or not, I was going.
As I climbed the creaky stairs, the musty smell of age and forgotten relics filled my nostrils. Pushing open the trap door, I emerged into a room that seemed frozen in time. Dust motes danced in the shafts of sunlight that managed to penetrate the grimy windows, illuminating a bizarre collection of artifacts.
My eyes darted from one strange object to another. Pickled heads of various monsters floated in murky jars, their expressions frozen in eternal snarls. A pair of pants lay draped over a broken celestial bronze sword, its fabric shimmering with an otherworldly beauty. A stuffed hydra head hung on the wall.
As I wandered through this museum of mythological oddities, something caught my eye. A golden pelt hung from a peg on the wall, its metallic fur gleaming despite the dim light. Curiosity got the better of me, and I reached out to touch it. The moment my fingers brushed against the soft yet unyielding material, the pelt began to shift and change.
Before I knew it, I was wearing a leather jacket that seemed to be made of pure gold. It was undeniably cool, but there was one major problem – it was way too bright. The jacket practically glowed, making me feel like a walking disco ball. With a rueful smile, I slipped it off and hung it back up. My own jacket might not be magical, but at least it didn't make me look like I was trying to signal planes.
Turning away from the pelt, I came face to face with something that made my blood run cold. There, sitting on a three-legged stool, was the Oracle. Or what was left of her, anyway. The mummified corpse of a young woman stared at me with empty eye sockets, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream.
"Damn, Oracle," I muttered, trying to calm my racing heart. "That was a jumpscare and a half."
Before I could recover from the shock, green smoke began to pour from the Oracle's mouth. It coiled and twisted in the air before me, forming shapes that slowly came into focus. Two figures appeared in the misty vision – a woman and a boy.
The woman was unlike anyone I had ever seen. Her entire being seemed to be split down the middle – one half pitch black, the other stark white. This dichotomy extended to every part of her – her clothes, her hair, even her eyes.
But it was the boy next to her that truly caught my attention. Even without the missing fingers and the Greek helmet tattoo, I would have recognized him anywhere. It was Ozzy.
What threw me off was the state he was in. Ozzy was covered in what looked like yellow blood, the viscous liquid dripping from his clothes and skin. Despite this, he seemed to be engaged in conversation with the strange woman, as if chatting while drenched in alien blood was perfectly normal.
As I tried to make sense of what I was seeing, Ozzy's mouth opened, but the voice that emerged was not his own. It was ancient, powerful, and sent shivers down my spine.
"Four souls embark to the west,
For darkness child, will fail his quest."
The strange woman then spoke, her voice a blend of harmony and discord:
"Water, wisdom, nature and thunder,
Seek wind to heal the world asunder."
Ozzy's voice returned, completing the prophecy:
"To fix a rift from long ago,
They race as end times start to grow."
As quickly as it had appeared, the vision dissipated, leaving me alone once more in the dusty attic. My mind raced, trying to process what I had just witnessed. Four souls... water, wisdom, nature, and thunder. It didn't take a child of Athena to figure out who those might be referring to, or at least most of those.
But the rest of the prophecy was far more troubling. And what did it mean that the "darkness child" would fail his quest?
One question, however, burned brighter than all the others in my mind: How was Ozzy with a girl in Tartarus? Didn't he say he was going alone?
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