Sun's out - It's ME!

EXCLUSIVE STUFF | TIP ME | BUY STUFF

Apollo’s smile strained. Will’s reaction hadn’t been what he hoped for, but… Well, frankly, he understood it. If there was one thing that he was extremely grateful from his Trials, it was that it gave him a major wake-up-call - especially when it came to being more…empathetic. Especially to the reality of demigods.

“I’m sorry, Will,” he said with a sigh. “I…” And just like that, words just…avoided him. He couldn’t find what to say; he couldn’t figure out what was the right thing to say. 

“I’m sorry,” he winced. “For everything. …You and the others - your siblings and all the other demigods here - you all deserve better.” His laugh was forced; bitter. “And we’ve done such a shit job. I’m sorry…”

Will shrugged a bit, pulling the deep frown from his face, attempting to slide back into his normal cat-like, calm indifference. The mask he’d perfected for himself to deal with the hurt, loneliness and the trauma he’d experienced. No one probed too deeply when you acted cool as a cucumber, like nothing bothered you.

He was the healer after all. The head of the cabin. He had to make sure to take care of everyone else. That left little time to fret about his own problems.

He put his hands behind him and leaned back on them, finally looking back up at Apollo. “It’s okay,” he lied. “At least we have a place to be at all.” He didn’t really want to comment on how crappy the gods were at parenting. Apollo had always supplied them. ‘Care packages’ they’d call them in the cabin, laughing and eager to unpack and see what magical goodies their godly parent had decided to bestow on them. Will very distinctly remembered the one before the Battle with its Sonic Arrows, Greek Fire and extra Nectar and Ambrosia. Obviously trying to prepare them as best he could.

He had almost forgotten how much he disliked being able to tell when someone was speaking a truth or speaking a lie. It felt... invasive, in a sense. And it made socializing a challenge - being made aware of every lie a person could speak (and how easily they fell from people's lips). But what could he do? He was the God of Truth.

God of Truth. God of Prophecy. God of Healing...and a shitty dad. That's what he was.

He turned his gaze away from Will. There was a tension now in the air - whatever pleasantness there had been had quickly soured. (Apollo couldn't blame anyone or anything else but himself. Him and the other gods - because they all screwed up. They failed these kids - their kids.) Apollo didn't know what to do next. What was the right move here?

Apollo rolled his eyes. “I suppose I must concede to what you say,” he said with a playfully begrudging tone. “Our competitions do tend to drag on for quite a while” - mostly due to the unhealthy mix of Eros’ desire to come out the victor and Apollo’s own stubborn streak. “With that said, you need your strength just as much as I do. Wouldn’t want you to throw the towel in on our match just because you got tired.”

Apollo, with a tug at Eros’ sleeves to spur the archer to follow him, a gesture more fitting for a child than someone intended to inherit a whole kingdom, strode over to join the dinner line. While he was sure being crown prince would allow him to get his food, well, first, he was far more content to wait. The knights do so much work practically every day, all in the name to keep his useless bum safe. In Apollo’s mind, they deserved first claim of the hearty warm stew that the cooks had served up.

Gods know, they need it. (They were still in the outer edges of Umbra and already the cold was unforgiving. Apollo swore his blood seemed to freeze in his veins from the biting cold of Uncle H’s lands.)

“So” - drawled Apollo; a puff of white smoke curling in the frozen air from his smile as he spoke - “how’s the trip been for you so far?”

———————-

Zephyrus resisted the urge to roll his eyes. As much as he wanted to, the last thing he needed was to give Kleitos a reason to push him away anymore than he’s already done. (Something that still baffled Zephyrus to this day. He just couldn’t understand why Kleitos would want to leave him. What they had was special. It couldn’t be so easy for Kleitos to throw it all away…and to what? Play babysitter to a useless, air-headed prince?)

“I know, I know,” he managed to say with only a slight groan. “You and your dedication to your charge.”

Zephyrus shot Kleitos a pout. “Still, the prince has so many knights between him and whatever danger that could nip at his heels. You couldn’t just spare even a minute to hang out with me? Can’t you have just a bit of faith in the men under your command?”

Eros followed Apollo into the line, a bit perplexed that he didn’t simply move to the front, though all the knights ahead who noticed quickly moved out of his way, not really taking no for an answer, pressing them forward in the line. A perk that Eros was perfectly pleased to take.

“Oh, quite boring, Highness,” he explained, shepherding Apollo froward. “Nothing for these eagle eyes to see really. Especially now that we’re in Umbra. Just cold, open plains in this area so absolutely nothing to sneak up on us.” Not that he figured that was a bad thing, but there were far more trees and life at the borders of the region. “And nothing to stop this damnable breeze.” He pulled his cloak a bit closer around him to stave off the cold. “Still, should lead to an interesting challenge for our contest.”

–

“But I’m the last line,” Kleitos pointed out to him patiently. “I have full faith in the Wardens,” he stated, meaning Z’s unit under Quinn’s command but pitched his voice low before saying the next bit. “It’s the Company I’m not so sure about…I know their leader doesn’t like me…I just get the feeling they’re trying to sabotage me or something, you know?” he asked, giving Zephyrus a wounded look he’d rather perfected when Charis dumped him.

Grabbing his pick of food, Apollo snickered as Eros shuddered. (Although he himself was not immune to the biting chill - a shiver quickly rattling him like a wind-chime in a gale.) "Wild unpredictable winds and a merciless cold that can freeze your limbs in place. Nothing at all like how it is back home. Umbra, as plain and monochrome as it is, does set up some interesting parameters for our contest," grinned Apollo - competition lighting a spark in him despite the gloom around them.

He playfully narrowed his eyes - a look of playful (harmless) challenge. "Think you can overcome such obstacles, Eros, to beat me?"

----------------

Ba-bump. And just like that it was as easy as breathing for Kleitos to just capture Zephyrus's attention (to sway him to his favor - if only a little).

A familiar prickling crawled up his neck and spread like wildfire across his cheeks. Quickly, Zephyrus broke his gaze away from Kleitos (and that dangerously endearing look of his) but even then his heart could not - would not - calm. His mind was at an even worse state.

Kleitos always has been the perceptive type. Zephyrus couldn't think of a time where he had been caught of guard (save for the one thing that caught Kleitos up in the flames of scandal, of course). Of course he would pick up on Aeneas's scheming ass - it wasn't as if the bitter fop was laying low about his distaste for Kleitos' quick rise up the ranks.

But damn! He'd been banking on the hope that Kleitos wouldn't come to him about this topic. (But at the same time, he preened at the attention. Finally! After so long of nothing but cold silence and distance - here Kleitos was, coming to him in need.) He knew he had to keep his mouth shut. That was the plan. That was what he agreed to - all for the possibility that he can once again have Kleitos right by his side.

(But this was Kleitos asking. Kleitos - the one who left; the one who tossed him aside the minute something new and shiny came his way; the one who clearly replaced him with a prince of all people - looking at him pleadingly.)

Drop an ask with a number and a character and I’ll say which one I think they’d pick!

Homemade food or take out

Day or night

Travel back in time or travel to the future

Summer or winter

Handwritten or typed

Horror movies or rom-coms

Piercings or tattoos

Happy endings or cliffhangers

Spotify playlists or mixtapes

Physical affection or verbal affection

City or countryside

Cocktails or smoothies

Movies or TV shows

Domestic pets or wild animals

Apollo sighed. Well, he had a feeling this question would pop up at some point.

“Back then, we were…worshipped. With the faith of the masses, we had great power, great influence,” explained Apollo with a sombreness born from, well, guilt. That the demigods of now couldn’t live like the demigods of them. “Enough that we could protect cities, villages - anywhere with a community of mortals - from the beasts and monsters that lurked outside. Our temples gave us a presence that allowed communities to be safe havens for demigods. Thus, allowing them to grow alongside their families.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered as he anxiously fiddled with the beads that hung around his neck. They had been a gift from Kayla. Jokingly given after his trials had ended - his own show of survival of each one, much like how the demigods of Camp Half-Blood added a bead at the end of every summer.

“I know the camp isn’t perfect. Fates, I’ve seen it for myself how imperfect it is” he said with a dry laugh. “But it was the best we could do at the time we… returned to the world. Still, it’s no excuse. It can be better. I know it can be better… Now it’s just a matter of having the others on Olympus realize this too.”

Will frowned back down at the closed anatomy book in his hands, hiding his eyes from being easily read as he digested this answer. He knew his father meant well but he also knew change was not easily wrought. Especially from the gods. There wasn’t going to be another Percy Jackson in their generation that could earn enough favor to force Zeus to make another change so massive.

He traced a set of muscle groups depicted on the cover as he thought about revealing his own grievances. He missed his mom. He missed his old caretaker, Miss Leslie-Missus Leslie now. He missed his school and friends and he didn’t want to watch anyone else die. Being a child of Apollo that was a healer meant he didn’t have any advantages in fighting and therefore protecting himself. He’d made it to camp, but only with help. If he went home he just put anyone else around him in danger and might get them killed. He couldn’t stand the thought of that so he communicated the only way he could, which was letters and postcards. They felt so distant.

Despite his half brothers and sisters sometimes he felt isolated, especially in the winter when some of them-especially those like Kayla, or Lee or Michael, who could take out a target a mile away-got to go home. And he was stuck here in the cold and dark winter which tended to come with a lovely case of seasonal depression for Cabin 7.

Apollo was his dad but he was soft. He would take all this information personally, being both the reason they existed and the reason that they had to stay here. He shouldn’t tell him any of this. The demigods in camp hardly talked about it with each other. Never knew if the gods were watching and would take offense.

“I’m sorry, Will,” he said with a sigh. “I...” And just like that, words just...avoided him. He couldn’t find what to say; he couldn’t figure out what was the right thing to say.