GG, Kronos, But I Have Foresight

I didn't stop laughing clear until we'd nearly arrived at Camp Half-Blood. Naturally, our Southern/Chinese taxi driver was not very impressed with this. Neither was Beckendorf, who insisted there was nothing funny about winning underpants from a Minotaur. Beckendorf was obviously that one percent of people. Actually, that was me, but don't tell him that I fully admit to that - I have a reputation to uphold, you know.

"Girlie," the driver said at last with a very annoyed tone of voice, "I would really appreciate it if ya let me pay attention t'the road!"

I immediately stopped laughing to frown at him. "Do not call me girlie," I said. I didn't mind being a girl, not really anymore, but being called that just did not feel right.

Beckendorf raised an eyebrow. "So that's how you get her to shut up," he said interestedly. I huffed at him, and he shrugged, grinning a small little, victorious grin. "Hey, you have been laughing a while now. I'm not sorry."

"Ugh, point taken," I sighed, rubbing my throat. My intense giggling was actually beginning to hurt my throat, like that annoying scratchy feeling that you get when you sing for too long. I knew that particular feeling all too well. "It was pretty funny, though, you have to admit it."
Beckendorf sighed like he was just done. "Okay. Yeah. It's a little bit funny."

"A lot bit funny," I corrected.

"You kids done back there yet?" the driver called back, and as we rumbled up a hill, I spied a single pine tree that had appeared over the side.

My mood immediately dampened. Thalia. It was… crazy to think that a girl was saved from the brink of death by being changed into a tree. Even as a guy changed into a girl, and as someone who'd read all the Percy Jackson novels, I simply couldn't wrap my head around it. She'd sacrificed herself by willingly facing at least a hundred of the nastiest monsters in Hades's repertoire in order to save her three friends. How does one have the guts to do that?

"Thalia's tree, huh?" Beckendorf had followed my line of sight. "We're close now. The stories they tell about Thalia, though… I wish I could've met her at least once."

"Yeah…" I frowned sadly. We were both quiet for a few moments, the now melancholic taxi rumbling up the road to Camp Half-Blood like a horse saddened by its master's emotions. Our silence was extremely awkward, especially in the face of the humor and mirth we'd had up to this point. Then we reached the crest of the hill and popped over it, and the sight that greeted us was a fan blowing away the depressing mist which had fallen over us.

Camp Half-Blood stretched out across the valley on the other side of the hill, nestled between a forest, a lake, the bay and the rolling hills. Arranged in a u-shape were the famous cabins for the twelve Olympians' children, and they were a magnificent sight to behold. Closer to us sat the Big House, which really did not do it justice; it was huge. Random bursts of fire swept into the night sky off and on, illuminating the treetops in brilliant, flickering orange light. The canoeing lake reflected the night sky like a beautiful blanket with a twinkling constellations design, with a river cutting off us and the Big House from the other half of Camp, which included the forest, strawberry fields, and cabins. Speaking of the cabins, the fire in the center of the "U" was lit, with a whole bunch of shadows that I assumed to be people dancing around it.

"They started the campfire without us?" Beckendorf groaned. "Great, that means there will be barely any s'mores left."

The driver peered through the night out to the camp below us. "What are ya talkin' about, boy?" he asked, genuinely confused. "There's just a strawberry field there, no fires ta be seen."

My newest friend raised an eyebrow at me. "Yes, of course," the demigod replied back.
Mist was a strange thing to wrap my head around. Everything just seemed so clear to me; how could others not see it for what it was?

He finally let us out just after we reached the top of the hill, in line with Thalia's tree. Beckendorf paid the man and added on the tip he'd said he'd give, too. I had to be a little skeptical about where a year-rounder camper like him had gotten the money to pay for all that, but Beckendorf explained that Mr. D had (reluctantly) given him a bunch of emergency money. We then walked a handful more meters down the hillside to the border of the camp, where my newest friend said something under his breath that I couldn't hear. Then he beckoned me forward, and I was able to cross through without issue underneath the ornate Greek archway that stood as the entrance.

As the taxi puttered away back to the city, we continued to make our way down the hillside to the camp. As we drew nearer the cabins, we heard cheerful voices belting out stupid campfire songs at the top of their lungs, and the fire danced twenty feet high, the tongues of flame looking as though they'd been woven from pure gold.

I immediately loved the place.

"This place," I gasped with wide, happy eyes, "is so awesome!"

Beckendorf, his hands in his pockets as he walked beside me, grinned. "Yeah, it's pretty great. It's like a second home to all of us. I can't even imagine how I survived before Camp Half-Blood. It just feels surreal to even think about."

The closer we got to the campfire, the louder the voices became, the clearer I could see the people around it, and the more I wanted to just drink in the entire camp with my eyes. Sadly, it was night, so despite there being no clouds in the sky I couldn't see everything very well. I did see what looked like the Apollo cabin circled around the fire, though, leading the campfire songs… and these songs definitely seemed to consist of some strange lyrics.

"This land is Minos's land, this land is gold land!" the campers sang as we finally joined them. "From old Crete Island! To the Mediterranean!"

Beckendorf's grin widened at my confused expression, and he lifted up his own voice in song. "From the Vai Palm Forest! To the Platis Potamos! This land was made gold by Minos!"

The song ended with a lot of voice cracks and a lot of laughter from the other campers. The campfire danced even higher, embers pirouetting and vanishing into the dark sky.

"Um, what?" I said at last.

"This Land is Minos's Land," Beckendorf said, as if that explained everything. At my continued blank expression, he stared. "Haven't you ever heard a campfire song before?"

"Yes," I replied slowly, "but most of the time they're not badly written parodies about dead and gold-obsessed kings."

He chuckled, rolled his eyes, and swatted my arm. I winced and rubbed it gingerly. My injured leg was already smarting something fierce from walking down the hill; I didn't need to be down an arm on top of that. "You just haven't been to the right camps," he told me. He then turned back to the other campers and cupped his mouth with his hands. "Hey, everyone! I'm back!"

A couple hundred heads—there were too many to count, and frankly I was too tired and hungry to bother anyway—all turned to look at us. The campfire immediately shrunk a few feet as the campers' joy turned into confusion and a careful study of, well, me. By the flickering light of the magical campfire, I could feel everyone's eyes gazing directly at me.

"She's the mortal?" someone sneered loudly. "She looks like a breeze could knock her over."

"Yes, Clarisse," Beckendorf said, "and she's a friend of all of ours. Everyone should treat her as if she was just another demigod." It felt weird to be talked about as she, but I didn't get a whole lot of time to think about this, because my friend turned to me and offered me a polite nod. "Eve, care to introduce yourself?"

"Um, hello," I said nervously. I was pretty outgoing normally—hell, back home, I'd been preparing to go live for an entire eleven months abroad in Brazil with another host family—but here, I was a weak mortal in front of one or two hundred very capable demigods, almost all of whom could probably very easily break my bones if they decided I was somebody to bully. "My name's Eva… er, Eve Gamble. I'm eig… twelve years old, and I g-guess I'll be staying here for the time being?"

I hadn't really meant that to be a question, but my nerves and ADD ended up accidentally making it one. I mentally facepalmed. Great first impression, Evan… no, Eve (Gotta use that name so that I can get used to it…). Way to sound confident and cool and not at all like a punching bag.

"Why?" someone called out.

"Um," I said again, about to launch into some dramatic lie, but Beckendorf beat me to the punch.

"Because since she is clear-sighted and has already saved the lives of a demigod, Chiron decided it would be better for everyone if she were to learn how to kill monsters, and Eve accepted."

It wasn't exactly the truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie, either. I glanced at Beckendorf, impressed. That had been way better than whatever I'd been about to blurt out. And it seemed to have worked, too. The campers were mumbling again, but this time it was more of an, "Okay, whatever, cool with me" sort of mumble. I smiled gratefully at my friend, who shot me a thumbs-up.

"Now, where's Mr. D?" Beckendorf asked the campers. "Eve here needs to see the orientation video, get a place to stay while she's here, and get her schedule together."
"I am right here, Chuck Benzenburg."

There was a flash of light and a voice from directly behind us. I yelped in surprise, drawing some strings of laughter from the demigods, and whirled around quickly. Standing there was a short, pudgy man who looked like he belonged in one of those trailer parks. He wore tasteless, tacky clothes that told of a fashion sense with -5000 skill points. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of dark glasses which looked like they'd been bought from your average Wal-Mart. He was pretty much the last person I would've expected to be a god in secret, and it was only thanks to my avid binge reading of Rick Riordan's series that I was able to pin him down as Dionysus at all. I mean, seriously, the dude was a train wreck.

"Ah, there you are." Beckendorf was entirely un-put-off by the banished god and his entirely dismal appearance. "I assume you heard all of that, then? Since I escorted Eve to Camp in the first place, I'll go with you all and help put everything in order."

"Alright, alright, whatever," I said, groaning and rubbing my poor stomach. "Just get me a cheeseburger and a nice, soft bed… that's all I really care about now…"

Mr. D *cough* Dionysus *cough* glared at me and looked like he was going to say something, but evidently remembered my status as a mortal. Ha! Take that, you Greek god with your… stupid, divine… customs… Man, monster fighting was really taking it out of me. I needed to get that dinner and some rest, stat, lest I simply knock myself out from the exhaustion and stress I'd undergone today.

"Follow me to the Big House, Evana Chance," Mr. D said blithely, turning around and staggering half-drunkenly towards said Big House. I said half-drunkenlybecause it was clear from the non-terrible smell of his breath, the way his eyes remained focused, and the fact that he was omnipresently grumpy that he hadn't had any drinks in forever. "It is time for your orientation."

"Ha!" I crowed triumphantly, my mirth momentarily chasing away my drowsiness. "That's closer to my name than you probably meant it to be!"

The god stared at me critically. He must not have liked how nonplussed I was about him misnaming me. Well, my mom accidentally called me by my dog's name sometimes, so I was already used to being humiliated like that.

I could feel his eyes burning at me from behind his glasses.

This was fine.

With the entire congregation of demigods staring at us like some weird religionists staring at their divine being, Mr. D stopped and turned back at me. "Even considering what Chiron said… You feel different from the other mortals," he announced, frowning and instead stalking closer to me. "Just who are you?"

This was probably fine. I mean, it wasn't like Chiron had told him everything about my status, right? Right?

"Evan Gamble," he said, quieter now, staring directly at my eyes as if he were looking right into my soul, "for what purpose and how did you come to our world?"

"Um, I-I—"

His frown deepening, Mr. D, now only one step away from me, reached his hand out and grabbed the top of my head roughly. Beckendorf tensed, looking ready to bring out his sword from his Tardis-like tool pouch, and the campers watched with bated breath. My face paled as coldness washed over me, and the god's hand glowed white for a few moments. Then Mr. D hissed and withdrew his hand, shaking it roughly and staring at it with wide eyes, like it had been burned or something.

"I see," he said quietly. He looked at me with a very dangerous half-glare, one that was part angry and part curious. "I do not know why, or how, but it appears as though some god managed to find a way to bring you here him or herself. We already know everything you know, of course, but with this in mind…" Mr. D paused and thought for a moment. Then his strange little half-glare bore deep into me again, harder this time, and I whimpered and backed away. "I know your fatal flaw, mortal, and for the sake of us all, I will tell it to you. Do not try to change the future. Attempting this will only end in tragedy. There's a reason why prophecies always happen. Trying to mess with the future will only result in more deaths and pain than you could have ever imagined. Your fatal flaw is the desire to change what you see for what you perceive to be the best. And in doing so, not only will it be fatal for you, but it will be fatal for us all."

Even though the campers had no idea what he was talking about, tension skyrocketed in the area around the campfire. The magical bonfire itself shrank to a measly two feet high, and turned to a shade of purple so dark it was nearly black.

Anger replaced my tiredness.

Who was this god to tell me what I should or shouldn't do? I was put here for a reason. Even if I didn't know what that reason was, and even if I didn't want to be here myself, that didn't mean that I wasn't going to just do nothing! I couldn't do nothing! It went against every cell in my body to stand around and just watch as people went to die before my eyes!

Regardless of the demigods behind me, and Beckendorf's pleading, warning hand that stretched out to grab my shoulder, I stepped forward until Mr. D and I were almost nose-to-nose. I was seething. I felt like Dracula in a blood drive which had just suffered a massive robbery.

"I can change the future!" I hissed, my hands trembling at my side. I bit my lip and fought back tears. "I will! Even if it's just a little bit, even if all I can save is one life, I will do so with all my heart and soul! Otherwise…" A single tear rolled down my cheek, unnoticed by me at the time. "Why am I even existing right now?"

Mr. D lifted his glasses off his head so that his eyes could glare directly into mine, unobstructed by any mediums. "And what happens when that single life you save causes another, or two more, or three more to be taken that otherwise would not have?" he asked, his eyes flashing with rage but his voice betraying no emotion. "What happens when that person's or people's parents have to hold funerals for them when without your thoughtless involvement, they could've continued living a bountiful life? What happens when the surviving family, furious at their late son or daughter's death, vows to seek revenge and causes countless more deaths in the process? When you've inadvertently caused tens of hundreds of thousands of deaths, clear off into the unforeseeable future, what happens then, Evan Gamble? What happens?"

I shivered. Somehow, his use of my actual name when everyone else had been addressing me as Eve made it all the more terrifyingly serious.

He paused for a moment, and I thought he might be done. But his jaw set, and he said, "The Fates do not enjoy anyone trifling with them. For everyone's sake, do not do so, or you will get burned."

The sky was still dark and cloudless overhead. Thunder boomed regardless.
My face pale as a ghost's, I gaped wordlessly. Beckendorf stared in shock, his mouth opening but speaking no syllables. The campers whispered again, and this time, it was a hushed disbelief that I heard.

Another ten tense seconds passed, during which nobody in the general vicinity dared move.
Mr. D turned curtly and marched off to the Big House as though he hadn't just forced me to question my very existence here, the causes of my existence here, and if I was even able to do anything at all. "Now, then, Miss Gamble. You have an orientation video to watch, and I have pinochle to play with nervous satyrs who probably purposefully lose against me."

Notes