chapter iv

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SIERRA WAS SAT ALONE ATOP HALF BLOOD HILL WHEN IT HAPPENED. She was fairly used to spontaneous bursts of heat, what with her difficulty in controlling temper and her eye's tendency to combust in response. What she was not used to, was a column of flame that touched the tree tops, seeming to descend from on high like a highly focussed laser.

A small ring of fire stayed burning around the man at the center of the flames and Sierra was on her feet with her spear pointed straight at him before the flames even died enough for her to see him. He just smiled at the sharp point of celestial bronze like it was a child's plaything and she was a cute little six year old with pigtails. Granted the last time he'd seen her, she had been.

"Put the spear away girl," he said, in a voice that was more boastful than an order. She lowered it, but didn't sheath it. When some guy appears in a column of fire, wearing an outfit typical of biker gangs that had told her at twelve years old they could 'show her a good time' she tended not to trust them. Then his clothes shimmered and he was wearing army fatigues instead, like a trick of light. She had a very sudden understanding of who exactly was standing in front of her. She dropped the spear, allowing it to clatter against the earth and knelt.

"Lord Ares," she breathed it like a prayer and kept her head lowered. He may have been her father but he was still widely known for being one of the most volatile and easy to anger gods. She didn't want to piss off her dad the first time meeting him, well the first time she remembered at least.

"Stand child," now he sounded like a drill sergeant, and she stood to face him. Sierra had overheard descriptions of her father from multiple people who had met him. Particularly his eyes, literal infernos where the eyeball should have been. Typically they were covered with some kind of glasses, the flame lighting them up from the inside but not on display. For a reason Sierra couldn't pinpoint, he hadn't hidden them this time. There were no glasses or visor in sight, he had gone full frontal with the burning flames and even though they had no pupil, she could tell they were focussed on her.

"Dad?" She asked, and Ares smiled like it was funny that she was so afraid.

"Yes, my girl, you think Apollo looks this warlike?" Sierra tentatively smiled, and Ares frowned. "Stop smiling Sierra, it looks wrong on you." Her face settled comfortably back into a frown as she studied her father.

"Can I ask why you're here?" She questioned, and Ares smiled like she'd gotten the answer right to a question he hadn't asked.

"There'll be a quest soon," he announced, "your sister, Clarisse, will lead it, and she'll try and go it alone. You're going to go with her," Sierra felt a small chill run down her spine. In Clarisse's stead, Sierra ran Ares cabin. She didn't even know who was in charge when both of them were gone. "That's my girl," Ares exclaimed, and Sierra jumped, taking a few steps back at the suddenly loud tone, "strategy, war plans, that's always been your forte Sierra. It was your mom's too, now that was a woman who knew how to read a battle map." A familiar twinge pulled at Sierra's heart at the mention of her mother and she bit it back.

"Not anymore," she mumbled, and Ares looked weird. His face screwed up in a strange expression and Sierra realized he was trying to look sympathetic. She wanted to repeat his comment from earlier, tell him it didn't look right on his face, but she opted to keep quiet.

"Anyways," he announced, thankfully moving them forward in the conversation, "wanted to give you this," he took a giant assault riffle off his back and threw it at her. For moment, she imagined Lee Fletcher screaming at her later in the infirmary that she was a moron for trying to catch it, while Michael sang another healing hymn over another set of fractured ribs. But the gun shortened and sharpened and when Sierra caught it, it was a sword instead. "When you want it to, it'll change into a necklace, a choker apparently, I don't know, Aphrodite said it would fit your style, whatever that means. It can be a sword or a spear on your preferences, and it should be enough to keep you safe on this quest. You're good with both," the sort of compliment warmed her heart a little. "I'm also here to tell you to quit controlling your anger, I gave you my eyes for a reason Sierra, use them. Also, the Jackson boy," Ares' face sneered in a expression that seemed to fit his face perfectly, "I don't like him, but I will admit we'll need him in the war. Keep him alive, gods know he'll get himself killed fighting the way he does without you." The sky above him rumbled and Ares looked annoyed, as if his father up above was warning him he was treading into forbidden information. "Right, I've said too much, well, I must be going, remind Dionysus I hate him, will ya?"

Another column of fire erupted and the heat was so close, intense, and sudden that Sierra fell backwards and landed on her butt. The fire roared upwards in a tornado and disappeared into the clouds. Sierra just sat there for a moment, her eyes dazed as she stared at the sword in her hands.

"What the hell is a choker?"

𝕹𝖔𝖇𝖎𝖑𝖎𝖙𝖞 𝕭𝖑𝖊𝖊𝖉𝖎𝖓𝖌 ( percy Jackson )¹Where stories live. Discover now