𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐖𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆, luke castellan

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

The commotion that unfolded that morning in the dining pavilion had no parallel in over a hundred years at Camp Half-Blood.

As Keira and the rest of the Athena cabin arrived, Fred was already bellowing, hurling insults into the air, and menacingly advancing towards George. The latter met his gaze with a grave expression, a tense jaw, and clenched teeth, showing no intention of backing down. It was the first time in years that when Keira entered the room, George's head didn't turn towards her; instead, he remained focused on the escalating situation.

"How dare you ruin the only gift I ever got from my father, you asshole?" Fred growled in anger with his Southern accent, simultaneously slamming violently on the ground what, in other times, would have been a very nice sword.

The once-beautiful blade bore visible signs of warping, with the metal twisted and misshapen. The edges were marred by deep cracks and fissures, rendering it unusable. The hilt, once finely crafted, showed signs of heat damage with warped and discolored sections.

The tension was palpable as George and Fred argued in the center of the hall, surrounded by campers who preferred to keep their distance from the impending confrontation. The faces of the onlookers reflected caution, fully aware that disagreements involving Ares' children could easily spiral out of control, and that the kids of Hephaestus, though more peaceful by nature, could reach high levels of violence if provoked.

George, visibly upset by Fred's reproach, responded with fury in his voice, "If you hated how it turned out, why didn't you give it a shot yourself instead of asking us to do it for you?"

Fred, far from calming down, clenched his fists harder and advanced towards George, bringing them face to face in the center of the room.

"Oh, Cabin 9 genius. Supposed to be a fucking weapon-fixing expert, aren't you?" Fred growled with malice and resentment. George clenched his jaw at the insult, feeling anger boiling inside him. "And yet, you can't even do that. Useless fools who think they're blacksmiths."

Before he could think twice, George's fist moved swiftly, landing a solid blow on Fred's cheek. The impact reverberated through the hall, accompanied by a chorus of gasps from the witnesses of the scene. Surprise mingled with sudden pain on Fred's face, while George's eyes gleamed with contained rage, his lips pressed tightly together as he maintained a defiant gaze.

Fred, furious and humiliated, spat blood to the side from a cut on his lip. Then, he turned his gaze back to the son of Hephaestus, wordlessly but with a murderous glare, and lunged forward with the intention of returning the favor. George's siblings, acting swiftly, grabbed hold of their brother and pulled him to the side to prevent the fight from escalating further.

However, Fred was not willing to let the argument end there. Ignoring the other campers' attempts to stop him, he advanced towards George with determination. None of the southern boy's brothers attempted to intervene, as, like true children of the god of war and violence, they looked at their brother with gleaming eyes and a hint of amusement in their expressions, relishing the prospect of witnessing an unbridled fight.

Before Fred could reach the other boy, other children of Hephaestus, noticing the growing threat, stepped in and grabbed him, ensuring that the situation did not spiral out of control in the middle of the dining pavilion. Fred began to try to shake off George's brothers, who, although not as skilled in combat as the Ares counselor, were robust and had him somewhat contained.

At that moment, Mr. D entered the hall. He didn't seem in a hurry to end the fight, and for the first time in years, he appeared not as grumpy as he did every morning. However, when Chiron appeared behind him, the wine god approached the center of the hall slowly, gesturing with his hands raised to the campers to cease their fight.