An awkward silence hung between the two of us as we locked eyes. I was skeptical, but the satyr looked surprised; his eyes gave it away, though his expression remained calm, as if we were old friends.
"No, I don't want to die," I said, answering his question.
"Names have power, child. Don't throw them around so ignorantly," the old-timer warned in a raspy voice. Right after that, thunder cracked across the sky like a staged show. I could see the lightning illuminating the cabin; I glanced down at the book and then back at the satyr.
"Got it, thanks," I muttered, turning my eyes back to the text.
Honestly, Zeus is a total prick—selfish and paranoid. Judging by the thunder, he was probably just marking his territory, as if to say I run this place. The almighty Zeus is lucky there isn't a Kratos hanging around here.
Better to just ignore it and stay chill. Let's start reading the second page:
For the gods keep the livelihood of man hidden; otherwise, you could easily do enough work in a single day to supply you for a whole year, even without doing anything at all.
But Zeus hid the livelihood, angry in his heart, because Prometheus of the crafty mind had deceived him. Because of this, Zeus plotted sorrowful miseries for mankind: he hid the fire. But the good son of Iapetus, Prometheus, stole it back for men...
And the god who gathers the clouds, Zeus, said to him in anger: 'Son of Iapetus, you who are crafty beyond all others, do you rejoice because you stole the fire and outsmarted my mind? A great plague shall fall upon you and upon the men to come. In exchange for the fire, I will give them an evil thing in which all shall rejoice in their hearts, embracing their own ruin.'
"Interesting. What do you think of Prometheus's actions?" the old satyr asked, leaning over next to me to look at the book. I raised an eyebrow.
"Honestly, it was stupid. The guy is seriously gonna try to trick the king of the gods?" I replied calmly, turning back to the reading.
"True. Who would be brave enough to challenge the gods? And even more foolish to try and bargain with one," the satyr answered placidly. Seriously; this old geezer is calling me an idiot in a philosophical way.
"For an old guy, you talk too much. Ever thought about retiring?" I asked calmly. He just cracked a pleasant smile.
"Retirement... If only I could stop hearing about problems and complaints. But I like to help, little demigod," he replied, giving me a warm, welcoming look that was starting to irritate me. With a sigh, I flipped to the next page:
So spoke the father of the gods, Zeus, and laughed out loud. And he ordered the illustrious Hephaestus to mix earth with water as fast as possible, and to put into it human voice and strength, and to fashion a face like that of the immortal goddesses, with the body of a charming virgin.
And he ordered Athena to teach her weaving work, and golden Aphrodite to shed grace upon her head, a painful desire and the anxieties that consume the limbs. Finally, he ordered Hermes, the messenger, to put in her a shameless mind and a treacherous character...
And the messenger of the gods put into her breast lies, crafty words, and a deceitful behavior, according to the will of thundering Zeus. And he gave this woman the name 'Pandora', because all who dwelt on Olympus gave her a gift: a present to be the ruin of men who eat the bread of the earth.
Finishing that last section, I slammed the book shut and tossed it to the side of the bed. Interlocking my fingers, I leaned forward, staring out of the cabin.
"Is everything okay?" the satyr asked.
"Yeah, everything's just great. How could it not be?" I shot back with pure sarcasm, leaving him in silence.
A few awkward minutes ticked by until a younger satyr walked in. Upon seeing the old man, he bowed his head. Sporting small horns, he was holding a tray with a piece of pork loin and steaming rolls, along with a chalice. He walked over to me and extended his arms, handing it over.
"Thanks. May nature bless you for this kind act," I said. I took the tray and the chalice, which was filled to the brim with lemon juice.
"Thank you," the young satyr said, beaming a smile before scrambling out the door.
I drank the juice, feeling the sharp sourness of the lemon. I cracked a smile; man, this was good. I set the cup on the floor and dug into the food. I grabbed the meat with my bare hands since there were no utensils, taking a huge bite and tasting the juiciness.
"Beautiful words," the old satyr noted.
I finished chewing and replied, "Yeah, just thought of it on the spot. Since my mom is the goddess of nature, it only makes sense for her to bless anyone who helps her kids," I said, washing it down with the juice. But judging by the satyr's reaction, I was left a bit confused—the guy was sitting there with his mouth wide open and his eyes bugging out. Seeing me stare, he let out a fake cough.
"Apologies for my lack of manners," he said, looking embarrassed. Ignoring him, I bit into the bread, enjoying the silence and the food as the minutes passed.
Taking the last gulp of juice, I felt completely reinvigorated. The exhaustion vanished, and my stamina bar was maxed out. I set the chalice on top of the tray, left everything in a corner on the floor, and let out a satisfied burp. I leaned back against the bed, staring at the ceiling, and closed my eyes.
"Hey, old-timer, could you clear something up for me?" I asked with my eyes still shut.
"Of course, feel free," he replied in his usual calm tone.
"I haven't even been here for a week, and honestly, I think everyone is being completely unfair to me. First, Clarisse corners me in the bathroom trying to bully me and injures me with her spear; for defending myself, I get punished." I took a breath.
"Then, I suffer a mental attack, and for defending myself again, I get punished. Sure, I was dumb for trying to negotiate with Mr. D, and Drew got punished too, but I still feel like they're putting a target on my back." I opened my eyes, sitting up to look him dead in the eye.
"And finally, while serving my punishment, I get ambushed. For defending myself, I get punished. Honestly, I don't see the difference between this place and the outside world."
As I finished, a crack of thunder rumbled through the sky, but I stayed still, staring at the old man, who had stopped smiling and looked completely serious.
"I understand your resentment, but let me answer you. First of all, your case is special, child. But the real issue is that all the other demigods are jealous," he spoke slowly. I raised an eyebrow.
"Jealous? Seriously?" I asked.
"Yes, jealous. You arrived bleeding, carried in by an ancient being who revealed her own name, and you were claimed by your divine mother within minutes of getting here." I stayed quiet, just listening.
"Most of the kids here don't have that privilege, or they had to nearly die just to be recognized. But you? What did you do to earn all this attention?" The satyr pointed a finger at me.
"Everyone asks themselves: 'Who is this boy? What did he do that I haven't done?'. You're eleven years old, but you speak and act like an adult—your maturity is terrifying. Your powers are different. You had the audacity to bargain with a god and you walked away smiling."
The satyr looked outside. "Pride dominates the minds of demigods. You are powerful for your age, but do you already think you're superior to mortals? Do you think you can solve everything with violence?" He finished by looking deep into my eyes, and I stayed silent.
"Chiron knows that this kind of pride is the greatest danger for any demigod, because they start thinking that moral laws and camp rules don't apply to them." He spoke with total calm and tranquility.
"What's your name?" I asked, which made the satyr crack a small smile.
"Everyone calls me Gus," he said with a sideways grin.
"Maybe you're right, Gus, but even so, that doesn't mean I'm gonna bow my head to anyone who tries to attack me. Even though I almost died once, I feel like if I have to fight, it's to win and to kill—otherwise, I'm the one who ends up dead."
"I don't blame you for feeling the injustice, but not every demigod has your abilities. You survived, you have your methods, but do you think only one monster is gonna attack you at a time?" Gus spoke calmly, interlocking his fingers as he stared outside the cabin.
"You, kid, are powerful," Gus said, his voice turning raspy and melancholic.
"How do you know? You must have seen demigods like me before," I asked, skeptical. I know I have a system, but in a mythological universe like this, it's bound to be full of absurd things.
Gus let out a heavy sigh.
"With the same potential, yeah. But like you... no, kid. The second I walked into the cabin and saw you, the exhaustion in my hooves vanished, and my senses sharpened," Gus replied, catching me off guard.
"Being near you is like breathing the air of a forest that's been untouched for thousands of years, free of human pollution. But what scares me is your mindset: since I got here, your expression hasn't changed once—cold, sharp eyes, and a face so deadpan I thought you were gonna attack me," Gus said, surprising me. I raised an eyebrow, but Gus kept his eyes locked outside the cabin.
"I'm just an old satyr, but your scent is overwhelming. If you step outside camp, it'll be a matter of minutes before a horde of monsters sniffs you out." Gus let out a heavy sigh, as if a massive weight were pressing down on his shoulders.
I fell into thought. Everything felt normal to me until now, but his comment about my expression completely caught me by surprise. Gamer's Mind, maybe?
"Let's go. I'll take you to your next punishment," Gus announced, pushing himself up and heading out.
I grabbed my tray and chalice, then silently followed right behind him. As we walked, I noticed we were heading toward the pavilion.
Along the path, some campers ignored me; others from the Aphrodite cabin started gossiping. I also spotted a few blushing blond girls giggling in my direction, but I just tuned them out.
We reached the pavilion. My first observation: the marble tables were cluttered with empty gold chalices alongside metal plates caked with leftover sandwiches and stew, others scattered with half-eaten bones and scraps of meat.
"The kitchen and the dish pit are at the back of the pavilion, right behind the directors' head table. You'll find a supply closet with gear back there—use it, and you'll understand why," Gus warned, pointing a finger. I nodded, walking past him, and caught a glimpse over my shoulder showing him standing still, as if he were waiting for me.
I made my way to the back. I noticed there were no doors, but I could hear complaining and a voice that already gave me a headache. Stepping inside, I came face-to-face with several brutes dressed in aprons and gloves, sweating bullets with plates in their hands. Among them were Clarisse and Drew.
And, holy shit, there was actual lava flowing through custom-carved refractory stone sinks. It was a glowing, thick, reddish-orange current, bubbling constantly and burping up gray smoke. The stench of sulfur was overwhelming, mixed with the smell of burnt stone and incinerated grease. The air back there was so hot it made my vision warp. Swallowing hard, I walked over to the supply closet.
Drew and Clarisse were already geared up, while a few other brutes were still getting dressed. I walked over and grabbed a heavy-duty apron made of coarse, dark-gray material—it reached from my neck down past my knees, shielding my orange Camp Half-Blood t-shirt and my legs.
It was stiff, restricting my movements a bit. The gloves extended up my arms to the middle of my biceps; they were thick, with zero flexibility in the fingers, and the inside felt lined with a rough canvas that scratched my skin. My hands started sweating in seconds.
"Well, well, look who finally showed up! I thought you'd try to run away like this idiot here," Clarisse said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Hey, I was just worried about my hair! Can you imagine it getting all sweaty and slimy?" Drew complained.
"Seriously? You two want to argue? There's literally lava right here—one wrong move kills us, you idiots," I warned, staring into the stream.
"You're the idiot!" both of them snapped, glaring at me, but Clarisse cracked a cold smile.
"Scared of a little burn? What else should I expect from you?" Clarisse taunted with a scoff.
"First of all: we aren't on a first-name basis for you to expect anything from me. Second: if you want to lose a hand or have half your body melted off, be my guest. Just stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours," I shot back at her provocation, earning a chuckle from her.
"Yeah, yeah, sure. But I have to wonder: when are we gonna settle our rivalry?" Clarisse provoked. Drew just shook her head with an amused smirk.
"Feel free to look for me whenever you want. And of course: you can keep whining about how pathetically you lost to Chiron," I replied, looking dead into Clarisse's eyes. Her jaw dropped slightly, just staring at me.
Seeing that she went quiet and was just staring, I walked over to the lava sink, slotting myself next to an Ares kid who was so locked in he didn't even notice my presence. The roar of the lava sent shivers down my spine. There were massive stacks of plates, trays, and chalices made of gold and silver.
I focused entirely on what I was doing and tuned everything else out; I wasn't about to lose an arm today. With my hands still clumsy inside the thick gloves, I picked up a metal plate smeared with leftover meat gravy. I gripped the rim as tightly as I could. Slowly, I extended my arm, passing the metal directly underneath the boiling stream. The second the lava touched the grime, a sharp crackling sound echoed through the air: TSSSS! The grease and meat scraps vaporized into ash instantly, vanishing into the current.
My hand grew so hot it made me close my eyes tight. I pulled the plate back with care, already feeling sweat coat my entire body, making my hair stick to my forehead. I noticed the metal of the plate was literally glowing red-hot. Taking a step back, I stacked it onto the clean pile. As I turned around, I froze: right where the guy had been standing just a second ago was Clarisse, who had just set down another plate.
"Are you really that scared, Thorne?" she asked with a smirk, her grip on her plate completely steady.
"Just trying not to die. How about you?" I replied calmly. Clarisse shot me a confident look.
"I'm doing great. But the Japanese girl over there seems to be having a rough time," she said, pointing with her eyes. Following her gaze, I saw Drew standing with a plate in her hand, lacking the nerve to actually bring it near the fire.
"Well, that's her problem. I'm gonna do my part," I said, turning my back on them.
"What a gentleman," she mocked.
"Never have been," I replied without looking back.
I began cleaning the plates with every ounce of caution I could muster. I went step-by-step: pick one up, clean it, stack it on the clean pile, turn around, grab a dirty one, and repeat. Clarisse wouldn't stop muttering under her breath or trying to bait me, and honestly, I wanted to fire back, but having that lava so close meant a single slip could kill me.
The minutes ticked away in that exact same rhythm. I was completely drenched in sweat, as if I'd just stepped out of the shower, with a bone-dry throat and burning eyes. Bringing up another plate, I paused when I saw Drew. She was soaked in sweat, her makeup smudging across her face and her hair plastered to her skin. Looking closer, I saw her bloodshot eyes glaring at me.
"You... you bastard! I'm in this mess because of you," Drew said, her voice laced with venom.
"Is that so? Check out my worried face," I replied, turning around to see Clarisse in the exact same condition. But Clarisse just passed by me in silence. After that, nobody spoke a word. The only sound left was the roar of the lava and the clinking of the plates.
I grabbed my last plate, finished cleaning it, and set it on the stack. I had never concentrated that hard in my entire life. I stripped off my gloves and apron, tossing them back into the closet.
"Holy shit, that was intense," I muttered, looking over at the brutes who were also finishing up. They stared at me with bloodshot eyes, just like Clarisse.
"I'll show you what intense really means, Thorne!" Clarisse barked, clenching her fist.
"Stop it, that's embarrassing and cliché," I said, already walking toward the exit.
"I swear I'm gonna ruin his love life!" I heard Drew complain.
"Yeah, yeah, best of luck," I shot back, mocking her.
I walked out, feeling the refreshing breeze hit my body. I slumped onto a table, burying my face in my arms. My God, inside that place felt like a straight-up death zone. I don't think I'd ever been that focused before—maybe against the empousa, but in there, honestly, I felt like one wrong move would kill me. But whatever, the grind was good for me. I snapped awake, jumping off the table as I stood up.
"Tired, Clebes?" a voice spoke. Turning around, I saw Mr. D sipping his Diet Coke.
"Pretty exhausted, but I'm good," I replied.
Mr. D looked me up and down and, with a mocking sneer, took another sip, completely freezing me out.
I spotted Gus standing nearby, observing me.
"What did you think?" he asked.
"One slip and I would've died," I replied with a smirk, making my way down the hill toward my cabin, since I was banned from roaming around.
I passed by the Apollo kids playing volleyball. Among them, one girl stood out: tall, athletic, with a deep, sun-baked tan. Her hair gleamed gold, and the skin on her face was peeling from sunburn.
I also caught a glimpse of Luke conducting training drills. He was spinning around two rookies, parrying their attacks at a speed that blew my mind, and within seconds, he disarmed them effortlessly. Then he paused and began making hand gestures, gesturing with his sword—he must have been coaching them.
I kept walking until I reached Cabin 4. Taking in my surroundings, I spotted dryads and satyrs, but what caught my eye was a boy with an eyepatch who was staring me down. I caught a glimpse of him and turned my eyes back toward the cabin.
I walked inside and sat on my bed. I could see Gus still by the door, watching some dryads and satyrs fooling around. My body was burning hot, but it felt good; I actually felt stronger. That was when the system ping echoed inside my mind—I realized I'd ignored it almost the entire day. System, pull up my stats.
*[STATUS PANEL]
*[NAME]: Caleb Thorne
*[AGE]: 11 Years Old
*[HP]: 150 / 150
* [PARENT DEITY]: Demeter (Claimed)
* [CURRENT OVERALL RANK]: D–40
* [HP]: 150 / 150
*[TRIBUTES]
*[STAMINA]: 35 / 80 (Recovering)
*[DIVINE POWER]: 48 / 60
* [STRENGTH]: (E) — (14/20)
* [SPEED / REFLEXES]: (E) — (12/20)
* [ENDURANCE]: (D) — (21/60) ➔ [UPGRADE AVAILABLE]
* [INTELLECT / PERCEPTION]: (D) — (24/60) ➔ [UPGRADE AVAILABLE]
*[SKILL TREE]
*[SAP / ENERGY DRAIN] (Novice Level)
*[WOOD MANIPULATION] ➔ [UPGRADE TO INTERMEDIATE *[LEVEL]
*[PLANT MANIPULATION] (Intermediate Level)
*[SEISMIC SENSE]
*[COMMUNION WITH NATURE] (Passive - Unique)
*[GAMER'S MIND] / [GAMER'S BODY]
*[DEBUFFS]
* [ADHD] / [DYSLEXIA]
*[EQUIPMENT & INVENTORY]
* WEAPON: [BRONZE LEVIATHAN] — Epic Class (Evolving) (1%)
* INVENTORY: (1/5) — [04x Full Recovery Potion]
I sat up quickly, observing my new tributes with a wide, excited grin. I hadn't expected them to jump like that. Come to think of it, my body is eleven, so this kind of physical grind was bound to yield results; the best part is that my Endurance officially leveled up. I clenched my fists, pumped up.
"Is everything alright, child?" Gus asked, causing me to glance his way.
"Yeah, just some anxiety," I replied, lying back down and closing my eyes.
"Never thought I'd see a demigod anxious to serve a punishment. Truly strange and unique," Gus murmured, but I just tuned him out.
We stayed like that. The wind brushed against my skin, cooling me down. I lay there staring at the ceiling, waiting for the minutes to tick away until I heard voices. I pulled myself up, sitting on the bunk as a sweaty Katie approached me. She ruffled my sweaty hair, getting dirt all over it, and I caught the scent of strawberries.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice sweet.
"Yeah, just waiting for the next punishment," I replied calmly.
"Did you read the book and did the satyr bring you the food?" Katie asked, but a second later, Miranda, Olivia, Mel, and Lucas walked in, all of them sweaty and caked in dirt.
"A bit. Thanks," I answered Katie, who cracked a smile.
"Caleb, they're talking all over camp about how you're a complete psycho," Olivia joked with a smile, but within seconds, Miranda smacked her upside the head.
"Shut it. We aren't talking about that," Miranda told Olivia, looking dead serious. Olivia just nodded.
"But it's true! And also, some of the Apollo girls think he's cool!" Olivia blurted out. I let out a chuckle.
"It's fine, you guys can talk all you want, it doesn't affect me. After all, I don't care," I answered Olivia, who smiled as she looked over at Miranda.
"But you should care. This could cause trouble for Katie," Miranda said, her voice turning cold.
"Seriously? From my point of view, I've only been defending myself so far," I shot back.
"From your point of view. Now, from everyone else's point of view, you're a lunatic," Miranda said calmly, looking me dead in the eye.
"If defending myself makes me a lunatic, then a lunatic I am," I mocked. Miranda looked me up and down, then shifted her gaze to Katie.
"Seriously, what an idiot... he looks like a psychopath with that smile," Miranda replied with a thin smirk.
"It's not my fault I'm more developed and stronger," I said, crossing my arms and staring her down.
"That's enough, both of you! Stop arguing!" Katie stood up with a stern look, making me look up at her with a smile.
"Come on, we're siblings. I would never hurt you guys, and you can count on me. I'm just not an idiot: I'm eleven, I barely got here, and everything that's happened so far was just self-defense. Sure, I went a little overboard, but they had it coming," I said, scratching my head.
"Caleb is right. You're kind of terrifying, but we're family," Lucas spoke up quietly, making us all look at him as he blushed.
"What I do know is that we're all just jealous... Mom has never shown her feelings like this before. Even the plants are happier around Caleb, and I like the plants," Lucas muttered, but we all heard him perfectly. He fidgeted with his fingers, looking down.
I let out a loud laugh, looking around at everyone.
"See? Now he's my brother!" I walked over to Lucas and ruffled his hair, realizing that I was actually taller than him now. Katie smiled while Miranda looked away, so I walked right up to Miranda and threw my arms around her in a hug.
"Get off me, you stink!" Miranda yelled with a smile, but I squeezed harder and called the others over. "Let me go, Caleb!" she said, trying to push me off, but I held on tighter.
"Aren't we siblings? We should act like it," I said, smiling. Miranda stared at me with a sideways grin.
"Don't say something so nice with that deadpan face, you idiot!" She pulled me in and hugged me back with a force that nearly knocked the wind out of me.
"I'm sorry... I just... I just wanted our mother to be happy with us the way she was with you," she whispered, her grip tightening. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see tears welling up in her eyes. I felt another hug clamp down on us—it was Olivia smiling, followed by Mel and Lucas, who were more hesitant. Katie, being the oldest, wrapped her arms around all of us too. I sketched a smile and looked over at Gus, who gave me a thumbs-up, smiled, and winked, as if to say: good job, kid.
Yeah, I did a damn good job. The cabin felt a lot more welcoming now. But I should try to talk to our mother. Who knows... maybe she loves us all equally.