Not My Fault; It Was My Brother’s

  “I’m the counselor of Cabin 11,” Luke introduced himself. He had a somewhat striking appearance; the kind many girls would describe as handsome. Sandy blond hair; defined muscles visible beneath his sleeveless orange shirt; cut-off shorts; and a necklace with five beads of different colors. A friendly smile. And that scar on his face, running from his eye down to his chin, somehow made him even more eye-catching.

  “If you need anything, you can come to me,” Luke added with an easy smile.

  “Well, for starters, you could make them stop looking at us like that,” Percy said, pointing at the other campers nearby.

  Every pair of eyes around them seemed locked onto the two brothers. Some were simply curious; others looked more like predators assessing how to slip their hands into someone’s pockets or bags.

  Luke smiled faintly at that and turned to face the rest.

  “Could you stop that? You’re scaring them,” he said, amusement clear in his voice.

  The others grinned at Luke and began to disperse, laughing as if it had all been some inside joke.

  “Don’t mind them; they’re just playing around. But just in case, don’t keep anything valuable away from your body,” Luke added, stepping slightly closer.

  Harry and Percy accepted that without hesitation, exchanging a brief glance.

  “This place is pretty crowded,” Percy said, looking around.

  The cabin was large. Not large enough for the number of beds, backpacks, weapons leaning against the walls, and people moving back and forth.

  “Well… yeah, a bit. You’ve probably already been told, but Cabin 11 takes in all claimed kids and the unclaimed ones too. Visitors as well. So it’s usually packed,” Luke explained calmly.

  “You’re un…?” Harry started to ask.

  “Unclaimed? No. Hermes is my father. But it doesn’t matter much. We’re all one big family here,” he said with a warm smile; though something in his eyes felt more complicated than that simple sentence.

  “Come on. I’m sure you’re interested in seeing everything this place has to offer up close,” Luke said, gesturing with his head.

  Harry and Percy looked at each other for a moment. Hearing about something was not the same as seeing it. Or feeling it for yourself. They could not help but feel interested.

  …

  “The archery range. Archers train here almost every day. In theory, the children of Apollo have the strongest affinity for the bow; but plenty of others keep learning so they can handle different weapons for defense,” Luke explained.

  Percy was now standing with a quiver at his waist and a short bow in his hand. For some reason, Harry’s unease kept growing. Suddenly, he stepped away from everyone and ducked behind what looked like a post, crouching while covering his head.

  That did not go unnoticed by Luke.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  Before he could even get an answer, an arrow suddenly flew straight toward Luke, grazing his head and embedding itself into the post Harry was hiding behind.

  “Damn, it happened again… mm… what if I try one more time?” Percy said from not too far away, trying to pull another arrow from his quiver with a focused expression.

  Several campers immediately jumped on him to stop him.

  “Do you want to try?” Luke asked Harry, unable to stop a faint drop of sweat from sliding down his face as he stared at the arrow still lodged in the wood.

  “Ah, no. I already have a way to attack from a distance,” Harry replied calmly, watching the arrow as if it reminded him of something he would rather not remember.

  …

  “Oh, forging swords. I like this,” Percy said, now dressed like an improvised blacksmith, staring at the large blazing furnace and the campers working around it; creating weapons and armor with hammers in hand, striking red-hot steel.

  The heat was intense. The air smelled of metal and coal.

  “Alright, your turn,” said the blacksmith who had been shaping a glowing sword, looking at Percy and letting him deliver the final strikes to see how he handled it.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Luke seemed to hesitate slightly; especially when he saw Harry suddenly grab a bucket of water and step a little farther away again. Like some kind of déjà vu.

  Cling.

  Percy struck the blade and nodded with confidence.

  Cling.

  He hit it again.

  Now, a bit more proud, he raised the hammer and brought it down even harder.

  Clank.

  The red-hot sword split clean in half and flew straight toward the blazing furnace, slamming into the coal. Embers shot outward toward a sack filled with more coal in the corner; and as if that were enough to ignite everything, it caught fire instantly, flames rising fast.

  But Harry was already moving.

  He rushed forward with the bucket he had prepared beforehand and threw the water just in time, extinguishing the fire before the entire place could go up in flames.

  “Next,” Harry said calmly as he walked toward his brother.

  After that came crafts. Carving, drawing, music and poetry, sewing, and finally decoration. And every single one of them seemed to end in a truly tragic moment for any cabin that had ever allowed Percy inside to try something.

  Meanwhile, Harry always seemed ready to fix whatever problem his brother caused.

  “Well, I think I did pretty well with the carving,” Percy said with a faintly annoyed expression after being kicked out of the cabin.

  “Mm. Especially when you almost carved the face of the girl who was teaching you,” Harry replied, his tone clearly sarcastic.

  “Sarcasm toward your older brother, little piglet Potter? I thought I raised you better,” Percy said, venting his frustration on Harry while crossing his arms; shaking his head in exaggerated disapproval.

  Harry stared at him for a moment, then threw a strangely carved mug straight at his head.

  “Ah. My masterpiece!” Percy said, rubbing his forehead as the misshapen cup fell to the ground and shattered with a far from glorious sound.

  Luke, who had been walking behind them, wore a faintly tired expression.

  “Tsk. Well, it was fun. And at least I know what I’ll always be good at is fighting and swords,” Percy said with an easy smile.

  Harry could not help but nod at that.

  “Wait… what?” Luke said, looking at them in confusion. “Did you just say you’re good with swords?” he asked, more serious now.

  “Mmm… yeah. I’ve been training since I was at least five. And Harry’s good with magic,” Percy replied calmly, as if he were commenting on the weather.

  Luke stared at them in silence, as though trying to decide whether the two boys in front of him were one of the camp’s recurring nightmares. Or entirely real.

  He pressed a hand to his forehead for a moment.

  “We should have started there,” he muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

  “Luke, hi,” a female voice said suddenly; a little shy, drawing the attention of the three boys.

  It was a blonde girl; pretty. Her cheeks were slightly flushed as she spoke to Luke. Harry looked at her with some interest, realizing she was the same girl who had seemed to be paying special attention to Percy when they arrived at camp.

  “Oh, Annabeth. What do you need?” Luke asked with a gentle smile.

  “This. Chiron sent me to get the new ones… to take them to the dining pavilion and stuff,” she said softly.

  “I see. Right, it’s time. I’ve got something to take care of first, though, so it would really help if you took them for me,” Luke said with a nod. Then he turned to Percy and Harry. “This is Annabeth Chase. She knows the camp almost as well as I do. You can ask her things while she takes you to dinner. I’ll join you later.”

  “Sure,” Percy said calmly.

  Harry responded with a small nod, not breaking his gaze.

  Luke left first. Annabeth stayed there for a few seconds before turning her attention back to them. Her expression grew slightly more serious; or rather, it was that look someone gives when they are trying to find your weak spot in a fight.

  She assessed them in silence; posture, hands, eyes. Her expression dimmed when she did not find what she had expected.

  “Yeah… you can’t be what I was expecting. After all, the Minotaur was only killed by those strange humans with magical objects,” she said, shaking her head in clear dissatisfaction.

  At those words, both of them frowned. Those strange humans she spoke of with disdain were, after all, their friends and family.

  “What’s your problem?” Harry said seriously. His green eyes, behind his glasses, looked straight at her.

  “Why are you talking like that about our friends? Just because they killed that bull guy?” Percy added, equally annoyed.

  “I didn’t mean it like that,” Annabeth said when she noticed the anger in their expressions, realizing she had chosen her words poorly. “It’s just that… a lot of people here would have loved to have the chance you had… and you didn’t use it,” she clarified.

  Percy did not look away.

  “Try to get killed by a mutant bull? Yeah, sure. Tons of people would be thrilled to give it a shot,” he said with complete sarcasm.

  “It’s not a mutant bull. It’s the Minotaur. And he’s the reason we train,” Annabeth replied more seriously.

  “Huh? If it’s the real one, didn’t Theseus already take him out in the Labyrinth?” Percy said, shaking his head and looking at her as if she were the one saying something ridiculous.

  Annabeth clenched her jaw, her fingers curling slightly at her sides.

  Harry, meanwhile, watched them closely. Faintly amused. Annabeth’s temper was surprisingly similar to Percy’s when he argued with Hedwig, and he found that oddly entertaining.

  “Monsters don’t die. I mean, yes, they can be defeated… but at the same time, not really,” Annabeth explained.

  “Oh, right. Crystal clear,” Percy replied with a half-smile that was anything but friendly.

  Annabeth let out a sigh.

  “It’s because they don’t have souls like you or me. You can get rid of them for a while. Maybe even a lifetime, if you’re lucky. But they always come back. Chiron calls them archetypes,” she explained more patiently.

  Percy stayed silent for a second, processing that.

  “Oh. What Grover said,” he finally muttered, as if unwilling to admit he already knew and had just been provoking her.

  Annabeth held his gaze a second longer than necessary. She definitely was not going to get along with him.

  “Come on. I’ll take you to dinner,” she said, fed up, turning around to lead them and, probably, to get away from them as soon as possible.

  “Well, well. Look what we’ve got here,” a female voice said suddenly, approaching with a mocking tone.

  Percy and Harry turned to look.

  Three girls; not much older than them. All three wore expressions that were anything but friendly. There was a faint smirk on their faces, as if they had just found something to entertain themselves with.

  “Clarisse…” Annabeth sighed when she recognized the bullies approaching.