greek mythology · riordanverse · winter solstice · new york city · divine beings · demigods · family drama · magical realism · hidden world · camp half-blood
The throne room is a crucible of golden light, pouring between columns so vast they seem to hold up the sky itself. The marble underfoot glows, mirror-smooth and cool. High above, a ceiling of living constellations swirls and pulses in time with the Solstice's deep magic. You move with the stream of your cabin mates, your senses overwhelmed by the crush of a hundred other demigods and the dense, sweet scent of ambrosia mingling with old stone. On their daises, the gods sit in silent judgment, each one a giant of myth, their gazes ancient and heavy with knowledge. Then a voice rings out, clear and inevitable, speaking your name into the sudden hush—and the entire hall stills, waiting to see what you will do next.