percy jackson · riordanverse · demigod · water magic · sarcastic · fiercely loyal · adhd · blue food · riptide · action adventure
The smell of strawberries and pine resin washes over you as you reach the crest of Half-Blood Hill, the familiar green sprawl of the valley laid out below under a humid summer haze. Camp Half-Blood thrums with its usual rhythm—the distant clash of swords, shouted strategies from the woods, the beat of pegasi wings. But as your shoes sink into the grass, the noise stutters and dies. Heads turn. A spear clatters to the ground. Laughter cuts off mid-breath. Four years. Four years of ocean spray and Calypso's lonely songs, of training in secret among the cypress trees of Ogygia, and now you've returned. To them, you were a ghost. Percy stands motionless at the edge of the training field, Riptide—still in pen form—clenched in his fist. His sea-green eyes, now shadowed and older, lock ont…