Resurrected

Tommy's POV

Despite all of the commotion at Camp, Chiron had decided to settle everyone’s nerves and celebrate the return of the questers by hosting an informal game of Capture the Flag. The night of the 22nd of August was beautifully warm, but not hot. A light breeze from the Long Island Sound made the night amazingly pleasant.

The campers that felt up to playing split up based on their personal alliances. The old political structure was back. Ares and Hephaestus had made a pact, along with Hermes and Aphrodite, as well as some of the minor gods and goddesses like Hebe, Tyche, and Nemesis. Then, on the other side was Athena, Poseidon and Apollo, along with the rest of the minor gods and goddesses, including Nike, my own cabin.

But that wasn’t the last twist in the complications. Just before Chiron let us strap our armor on, a flash of lightning struck down two feet from Percy Jackson’s head.

“Holy Poseidon!” He shouted as a new face landed down. I had never seen this guy before, but I could tell, from the obvious clues, that he was a son of Zeus. And, seeing as their was currently only one son of Zeus alive, I knew that he was the famous Jason Grace. The guy had striking blonde hair and startling blue eyes, like the flash of lightning hitting a deep blue sea. He exuded an air of power about him that was strangely addicting. For no reason whatsoever, I wanted to be around this guy.

“Scared of a little lightning, Jackson?” Jason asked with a smile.

“Not especially. I can create a hurricane for you, if you want,” He replied calmly, and with a smile.

“It’s good to see you, man,” Jason chuckled as they embraced, “As I’ve heard, some strange and exciting things have been going on around here, eh?”

“I’ll say,” I said, speaking up, “Four people were brought back from the dead.”

“Really?” Jason asked, astonished, “Who would they be?”

“Well,” I said, “Charles Beckendorf, over there.”

I pointed to the massive son of Hephaestus, who was sliding on his custom armor.

“Silena Beauregard, who you’ll meet with Piper, Ethan Nakamura, who is in the Infirmary resting, and me.”

“You?” He said, impressed, “I was going to say, I don’t think we’ve met.”

“Tommy Doyle, son of Nike,” I said, shaking his hand. He had a strong confidence about him that made me believe that he was a natural leader. But he seemed almost too self-confident, too easy-going with the world. I had trouble believing that he was Roman. They were supposed to be strict, grim.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy,” He responded, “Now, what team am I on?”

“Well, as your girlfriend,” Piper spoke up from the right side of the crowd, “I’d think you’d be on mine.”

“Pipes!” Jason exclaimed, taking off from the ground and landing two feet from her. They kissed quickly and Jason stared into her eyes.

“I heard that you and Leo had some sort of an interesting experience—”

“Later, Sparky,” She warned.

“No problem. Let’s get this started, eh, Chiron?”

The centaur nodded and blew his conch horn, directing the teams to opposite sides of the forest.

The last time I had played a game of capture the flag, it hadn’t been a fond memory. I had been thrown in with the Hermes cabin at twelve years old, and I had gotten a slashing cut on my forearm, and a massive bruise on my back and left leg. But this time, I was determined to win.

We got all of our armor on, and I was shocked to see my old armor from Kronos’ army sitting on the table, tempting me to put it on once more. I knew Kronos was trying to screw with me, summoning the armor, which had been a gift from my mother. But, to spite Kronos, I took the armor gladly, almost mentally sticking my tongue out at the Lord of Time.

“You don’t look half bad, punk,” Clarisse commented as she walked past me with her blazing red armor.

“Look, Clarisse,” I said, cringing at the sight of the armor which she had killed me for the first time in, “I know I can’t talk, wearing this particular set of pads, but seriously? Did you have to wear that set of armor? Seems a bit too soon.”

She looked like she wanted to protest, but then she saw something in my eyes. She then cringed in guilt and said,

“I’m sorry, Tommy. I promise to get Cabin 9 to build me some new armor, but for now, this is all I have.”

I was tempted to say something to make the daughter of Ares feel guilty about wearing her old armor, but I restrained myself.

“Apology accepted,” I responded, and we nodded heads at each other, walking towards our teams.

“Alright, team,” I said as I watched Clarisse jog to her comrades, “not to brag, but you’ve got me on your team, and I’m a son of Nike, the victory goddess. Let’s hope she’s in a good mood.”
And then, Chiron blew his horn. I had been elected to be one of the runners, so I sprinted across the creek and found myself stealthily sneaking through the trees on the boundary of the playing field. Then, I saw it.

A hellhound roughly the size of a small car was growling as it rumbled along, sniffing the ground. I tried to stay as still as possible. How in Hades had it gotten through the Camp boundaries? Then, it froze, smelling harder. It seemed to have picked up a scent, because it veered away from me and towards the red team’s flag. Then, it froze again, but this time, it was looking at a person. Clarisse.

The hellhound growled, but the daughter of Ares seemed not to notice it. I realized what I had to do. I sprinted towards the beast just as it tensed its hind legs to spring at Clarisse. I leaped through the air and hit its head behind the ear as it opened its mouth to rip into her. She yelped in surprise as I flew past her, a searing pain through my right shoulder and right side of my ribcage.

But Clarisse la Rue is not known for standing dumbfounded. She raised her spear as it crackled with electricity and brought it down on the monster’s head, exploding the hound into yellow dust.

As I was lying five feet from the beast, I realized that I had kind of missed its ear, which I had been aiming my shoulder for. I ended up hitting its jaw, and my body brushing against its teeth had ripped a massive set of gashes throughout the right side of my body.

“Oh Styx! Seriously, Tommy? You have to stop risking your life for other people! It’s going to get you killed, and it makes the rest of us heroes look bad!” She scolded me.

“Hey, I get to save people’s lives,” I commented weakly, the blood soaking through my shirt. Clarisse was trying to apply pressure, but my wounds were too huge. So, she said gruffly,

“Don’t die on me, punk, I have to get you to Chiron, okay?”

“No problem,” I responded, grimacing my teeth, “but it might be hard for me to stay awake. I mean, third time’s the charm, right?”

“Don’t say that!” She scolded, her voice shaky, “Don’t die on me, Tommy! C’mon, stay with me!”

Suddenly, a massive jolt went through all of my muscles and my entire body jumped.

“Whoa, Tommy, are you okay?” Clarisse asked.

My entire body warmed with a sense of anger. I knew what was coming next. Kronos would control my body and I would go into my ‘Rage of the Styx’ mode. And, as if on cue, I felt a presence thrust my hand out for me. Clarisse was supposed to go flying backwards, and I was supposed to drop from her arms. But nothing happened.

I found myself smiling uncontrollably. Both the hand-thrusting and the smile were worrying Clarisse, because she said,

“Don’t go crazy on me either! C’mon kid!”

“No,” I tried to explain through the pain and my drowsiness, “I’m—I’m fine. Kronos—he…he can’t hurt me anymore. I’m free.”

I kept murmuring those last two words as Clarisse sprinted to Chiron, yelling her lungs off. But I couldn’t even hear her. I had lost consciousness.

Notes

And Tommy Doyle becomes the second of the four to redeem his soul!

Enjoy,
Grafon