-Loth's P.O.V-
The next two days at Camp Half-Blood passed in a blur of sweat, aching muscles, and bruised egos.
Capture the Flag loomed on the horizon, and Luke made it his mission to ensure Percy and I were ready.
Luke spent hours training Percy in sword fighting, and it was almost unfair how quickly he picked it up.
By the end of the first day, Percy moved with a fluid grace that was both frustrating and impressive.
"Like a fish to water," Luke joked, though the undertone of awe was clear.
For me, Luke decided on spear training. He said my magic was impressive, but my physical capabilities left a lot to be desired. Ouch.
'Being a Couch Potato is the only life I know!' A part of me protested.
The first sparring session exposed my weaknesses; after only an hour, I was drenched in sweat and gasping for air.
"You rely too much on your magic," Luke told me, tossing his spear from hand to hand like it weighed nothing. "What happens if you run out of magic in a fight?"
I groaned, rubbing my sore arms. "Then I run."
Luke shook his head. "Wrong answer. Monsters are faster, stronger, and more relentless than demigods. Running delays the inevitable: fighting. Which means you need to use every tool at your disposal. This—" he gestured to the spear "—is just as important as your fancy constructs. And it will give you a second chance."
I tried to argue that more time spent on magic training would be more productive, but Luke shut me down with a challenge: a sparring match. I could use my magic, and he would use only a spear.
---
We squared off in the arena, a small crowd of campers gathering to watch. The air buzzed with anticipation.
Luke didn't waste time. The moment Chiron gave the signal, he charged. I raised a pink barrier to block his strike, but his spear—colored gold—sliced through it like paper.
"What—?!" I barely dodged as the tip of the spear whistled past my face.
"Celestial bronze," Luke said casually, spinning the weapon. "Cuts through monsters and magic like butter. Bet you didn't know that."
I did, I just...forgot.
Gritting my teeth, I summoned a spear construct and shot it, aiming for his chest.
Luke sidestepped the attack effortlessly, and before I could react, he lunged forward and swept my legs out from under me. I hit the ground hard, my half-formed barrier construct flickering out.
Before I could recover, he pointed the tip of his spear at my throat. "You're dead," he said, his voice hard.
The campers cheered, but Luke ignored them, his focus entirely on me.
"Let this be a lesson," he said, helping me to my feet. "Clarisse will come after you and Percy in the game. But she's not your biggest threat. Monsters are. They can smell your scent from miles away, and they won't stop until they've torn you apart. You need to be ready for that."
I nodded, humiliated but understanding the truth in his words.
Luke's tone softened. "The gods won't save you, Loth. They won't save any of us. That's why we have to rely on ourselves. Get stronger. Smarter. So one day, we can tell the gods we don't need them anymore."
His words struck a chord with the onlookers, who nodded in agreement, including Percy. His charisma was undeniable, and I couldn't help but be drawn in, even as I reminded myself: 'He's the bad guy, Loth. Don't forget.'
---
In the evenings, I continued magic training with Luna at Thalia's tree.
Her methods were predictably unconventional—just like Luna.
That night, she used advanced Mist control to disrupt my magic as I tried to form constructs. Each time I focused, the Mist swirled around me, unraveling my spells before they could take shape.
"How am I supposed to improve if you keep interfering with my magic?" I snapped after yet another failed attempt.
Luna giggled, her pale blue eyes twinkling. "Control, dear brother. Magic is belief. Authority. You have to be stronger than the Mist to make it obey you."
She said it like it was the simplest thing in the world, but I knew better. Mist control was leagues above my current abilities.
When our training ended, I asked to be left behind.
"Don't stay out too late," she warned as she gathered her things. "The Shadowlings like to steal souls after dark."
I rolled my eyes. "Goodnight, Luna."
She smiled, skipping away with a whispered goodbye to Thalia's tree.
---
Night fell, and the camp grew quieter as the stars took over the sky, casting a soft glow over the landscape.
I sat beneath Thalia's tree, my thoughts tangled.
The sparring session with Luke replayed in my mind—his spear slicing through my barriers like they were made of paper, his words cutting deeper than the weapon ever could.
Celestial bronze could counter my Anodite magic. The Mist could disrupt my constructs. And my physical body? Barely capable of keeping up in a fight.
I sighed, leaning back against the tree. It felt like I was backtracking.
Luna's earlier lesson on the Mist echoed in my ears. 'Magic is belief. Authority. If you can't impose your will on the world, then it imposes on you.'
That was the problem. I had been relying too much on external manifestations—constructs, barriers, weapons. Fighting like a mage. Like an Anodite.
But what if... what if I internalized the magic instead?
The thought struck me like a lightning bolt.
Demigods got stronger in their element. Percy, for instance, was practically unstoppable in water.
Could I replicate that with my magic? Not by relying on an external element, but by channeling my energy directly into my body.
The concept felt impossible. But then Luna's voice echoed back at me: Magic is belief.
I closed my eyes, focusing on the warmth in my chest—the core of my magic. The quantity of energy had grown even more.
Slowly, I imagined it spreading through my body, weaving through my muscles, bones, and veins like blood.
I pictured energy circuits running parallel to my nervous system, carrying magic instead of electrical signals.
The process felt... right.
The warmth intensified, pulsing outward in waves. My skin tingled, and I felt my muscles grow heavier, denser.
The aches from training with Luke faded away, replaced by a sense of lightness and strength.
But the mental effort was draining and the energy expenditure even worse.
I gritted my teeth, pushing through. The energy resisted me at first- unused to being applied internally, but I dug deeper into my belief,
-0-
Unbeknownst to me, the purple aura surrounding my body had grown brighter, casting an otherworldly glow over Thalia's tree.
-0-
(General P.O.V)
At the camp's edge, Percy, Annabeth, and Grover stumbled toward Thalia's tree, their faces a mix of worry and exhaustion.
"Luna said he'd still be here," Grover muttered, his hooves crunching against the underbrush.
Annabeth groaned, holding up a flashlight. "Athena help me, I swear I'll wring his neck when we find him. Tomorrow's Capture the Flag—he's going to be useless if he doesn't sleep!"
Percy frowned, scanning the area. "Do you think he's okay? What if something happened to him?"
Grover froze, his eyes widening as he pointed toward the faint glow ahead. "Guys Look!"
Annabeth stopped short, her flashlight beam illuminating the figure sitting cross-legged beneath Thalia's tree. "What the…?"
"It's Loth," Percy said, squinting at the purple aura surrounding him.
Annabeth muttered under her breath, stomping forward. "Idiot's probably asleep. Let me—"
Before she could approach, a voice stopped her cold.
"Not so fast, Annalise."
The trio spun around to see Mr. D lounging on a chair that hadn't been there moments ago. Empty soda cans surrounded a cooler at his feet, and he held a half-empty can of Coke in his hand.
Annabeth grit her teeth. "It's Annabeth."
Mr. D waved a hand dismissively, taking a long sip of his drink. "I don't care, Angela."
Percy blinked. "How long have you been here? And why didn't we see you earlier?"
Mr. D raised a brow. "Because I didn't want you to, Perry."
"It's Percy," he corrected through gritted teeth.
The god ignored him, fixing his gaze on the glowing figure beneath the tree. "You should head back. Lucy there is perfectly fine."
Grover bowed slightly. "We're sorry, sir. We just came to check on our friend."
"Friend?" Mr. D took another sip, belched, and gestured lazily toward Loth. "Your friend is currently undergoing divine enlightenment. You wake him up, and you'll regret it. Probably forever."
Annabeth crossed her arms. "Divine enlightenment? That's just a myth."
"Is it?" Mr. D quirked a brow, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Tell me, Annabelle, are you always this stupid, or is it a recent development?"
"It's Annabeth!" she snapped.
Grover interjected nervously, "I've heard of divine enlightenment. Supposedly, it's how seers communicate with the gods for prophecies. But… I've never heard of a demigod experiencing one."
Percy looked back at Loth, his worry etched on his face. "So he's okay? For real?"
Mr. D sighed dramatically. "Yes, Peter. He's fine. Now shoo before you ruin the boy's moment of glory."
Annabeth hesitated, her lips pressed into a thin line. Percy placed a hand on her shoulder. "Let's go," he said softly. "We'll just leave him a blanket or something."
She huffed but relented. "Fine. But if he screws up tomorrow, I'm blaming him."
Grover handed Percy a spare blanket from his pack, and they left it near Loth's glowing form before retreating back to the cabins.
---
Once the campers were gone, Mr. D reached for his last can of Coke, only to find it missing.
The sound of a can popping open made him glance to his side. A figure cloaked in shimmering purple magic sat on a lounge chair identical to his, sipping the drink with a serene smile.
"Refreshing," Hecate remarked, inspecting the can.
Mr. D narrowed his eyes. "You've stolen the last joy I have in this wretched camp."
Hecate smirked, the aura of power around her crackling faintly. "Your life is sadder than I thought."
"Shouldn't you be skulking around your crossroads?" Mr. D asked, his tone irritated. "My father won't be happy to find you here."
She waved a hand dismissively, her expression unbothered. "I came to deliver a reward to a promising camper."
Mr. D glanced at Loth, his brows furrowing. "So you're behind this divine enlightenment?"
Hecate didn't answer. When Mr. D turned back to her, she was gone. In her place, a bottle of wine sat atop his cooler.
A note was attached:
*"Consider this thanks for guarding my son, Dionysus. The bottle refills monthly and will appear as Coke to everyone else, including Zeus. Use sparingly. Yours truly, Mistress of Magic and Enchanted Wine Bottles."*
*P.S. Stop bitching.*
A chuckle escaped Mr. D as he picked up the bottle, studying it with interest. He glanced at Loth, still glowing faintly beneath Thalia's tree.
"Lucky brat," he muttered, leaning back in his chair and popping open the enchanted bottle.