Funeral Blues​

Burning yellow flames licked at the sky eagerly eating away at the corpse within their grasp. A smell of noxious carrion and burnt wood mixed together into an unpleasant aroma as it reached the campers' noses. Liam's eyes absentmindedly stared into the burning flames of Laurel's funeral pyre.

On top of a stone altar covered in the depictions of the Greek gods laid the body of Holly's sister slowly turning into ashy waste. Around the pyre, Liam and his cabin mates watched, some in mourning while the others were decidedly blank.

The fledgling couldn't remember the aftermath of the fight that well; it was a blur.

Flashing voices and people running by in a chaotic dance helping out anyone in need as Holly stood in shock over her dead sister's body next to the blackened remains of the Tooth Tyrant. After he yelled out a camper rushed forward before quickly bringing Sam away towards the Big House running as fast as her feet could carry her.

A slight ringing came into Liam's ears as he followed behind her before the Satyr was haphazardly thrown into a bed. His inner thigh was a bloody mess as she worked with the boy's skin paling more and more with every second passed.

Looking back at the face slowly burning away in front of him Liam's eyes widened in horror as it seemed to shift to Sam's with one of his blue eyes lolling out onto the altar below. The boy took a step back with his mouth opening before he thought N-No...He's fine. She said he'll be fine.

Liam gave a solemn look over to the younger girl still brokenly staring into the flames as Luke continued to give her sister her funeral rights. The brown-haired girl quietly stuttered, "I-It's not fair..."

Her eyes seemed to suddenly gain life as she angrily stomped one of her feet into the dirt below before yelling out, "It's not fair!" and running back towards the cabin.

Behind her, a few of the other cabin members quickly followed leaving the Stolls, Luke, and Liam behind.

The twins looked almost out of place with their all too usual roguish smiles nowhere to be seen while Luke was giving a heated glare into the afternoon sky. Liam was still trying to take hold of what happened naught but an hour ago.

It could have been Sam if he was a few seconds too late, or even Liam could have been the one burning in the pit in front of them. Slowly beginning to walk away he thought What if it had been me?

Thoughts began to take form in his mind of those it would affect.

Sam would surely be hurt, although not as much as one of the two most important people in his life. Liam's mother would be devastated learning of the death of her little boy, even if she learned of it at all.

Ha, I forgot. She wouldn't care anymore, would she? No one would care about a little monster... bitterly thought the boy as entered into the Hermes cabin quietly trudging back towards the barracks hoping to get away from it all.

Just as he entered the room the Fledgling felt something crawl up his throat that had been more and more apparent these days.

A slight burning sensation traveled up and down the back of Liam's esophagus as one of his hands subconsciously came up to scratch at it. He felt parched, almost dry; A red tongue wet two lips as the boy's mind was drawn back to the scamp a few days before.

Trying to put his mind off things for a while at least the boy rushed over to his bed before popping up a floorboard and pulling out his blue backpack. Almost immediately after the fight, Chiron had announced that the camp would have a free day to recoup while he and the other staff figured out how the monster got inside in the first place.

A bitter emotion simmered within Liam's chest as he thought back to how Mr. D appeared to up and disappear during the battle. The wine god seemed to vanish into thin air almost as soon as the hostilities began.

Angrily the boy seethed, "The coward is a god. Couldn't he have done something to help?"

Thinking back to a tool Liam had used much in the past the boy started to quietly count in his head while breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. Slowly but surely the righteous anger simmered down before disappearing leaving melancholy once again.

Trying his best to make his emotions work for him the boy channeled that anger and fear into what he was currently doing. Why spend time worrying about something Liam couldn't control when he could become strong enough to not need to in the first place? All he would need is a little magic.

Flipping open the purple book Liam turned the old rune filled pages back to where he was. The section was labeled 'Channeling Magicka into the Waters of Oblivion.'

Slowly the boy began to reread it, hoping to glean some insight from the piece.

Like all other schools, we begin with the most basic application of using Magnus' gift. What to most novice mages is known simply as channeling. This art, if you can even call it that, is achieved through letting magicka flow through you. (1)

If you have any willpower at all then this step shall be quite easy for you, let the magicka that flows all around come through you. Be a conduit for the energy, giving its potential form. Once you've done this then you can begin on the second step.

Slowly Liam began trying to practice, once again hoping for whatever cosmic entities that were watching would finally give him some luck so he'd have some success. Letting his breath out in a low drawl Liam did his best to draw in the magicka as the book described trying to coax it into him.

The experience was like trying to use a muscle Liam had never before in his life touched. He couldn't feel anything from all his grunting nor what he decided to call "meditation." To the boy, the exercise felt utterly pointless.

Liam sat there upon his bed for what felt like an hour before he finally decided to give up.

The boy felt his frustrations start to slowly build as a frothing heat pushed itself up his throat before Liam exclaimed, "Oh, screw this!" throwing the book at the floor.

In the distance, he heard the talking coming from the cabin's rec room quiet down before slowly picking back up to its normal levels. The boy could barely make out the sounds of muffled female sniffles as a few consoling voices tried to stop them.

Getting up from his bed Liam indignantly trudged over to the book before apprehensively picking it back up again. Grinding his teeth together the Fledgling grumbled, "I just don't know what I'm doing wrong..."

Does a mountain move because an ant asks it to? The world does not abdicate to your pleas boy. uttered a bored voice from Liam's mind seemingly apathetic to his complaints.

Liam felt a shiver roll down his spine at the unnatural voice before quickly thinking back And how does that help any? If it won't listen to me in the first place then what's the point in trying?

The voice seemed to take a second the thing before it growled, The words are written right in front of you boy, you do not ask a slave to work. You order it to.

Liam's eyes begrudgingly came back to the purple tome in his hands before giving the two paragraphs a second chance. Slowly the Fledgling's mouth opened as he repeated, "You order it to..."

The voice's way of describing the process seemed keenly different from the way Hidja describes it. Hidja talked about magicka with respect like you're trying to court some mysterious mistress, as if you would need devotion and love to truly master it.

While the way the voice portrayed the process, that seemed to hit home with Liam.

It all came back to one thing Liam had to have in his life. Even if the world was falling down around him as long as the boy had it then surely he'd be fine. Liam had to be in control.

Slowly the boy began to try again, coaxing for the unseen energy.

A gasp was heard in the barracks as Liam's eyes widened in surprise. He had tried this time instead to wretch the ethereal energy into his system with a mighty tug. Surprisingly, the magicka listened; this time it had no complaints.

The process began with a small trickle.

Liam's awe quickly became concentration as the boy tried to corral the energy within himself and hold it down. The power was almost fleeting as it tried its best to flee as soon as it entered but with an almost iron-clad will Liam held it down.

The small trickle of energy kept its place within the boy as Liam began to feel and even see the blue wisps of light that flowed around Falion show up on himself. With a large smile, Liam stopped channeling the trickle of power leaving behind a rather small pool within himself.

The smile began to quickly fade as Liam's vision darkened slightly as the boy fell forward collapsing towards the ground. Quickly steeling himself Liam put his hands out just barely catching the ground, anchoring his body in a world that suddenly liked to spin.

"W-What the hell was that?" asked Liam blinking blearily from the floor.

As the dots began to disappear from his vision Liam heard the voice say, A practitioner's first was always said to be their worst.

Slowly pushing himself back up Liam thought that he would have to agree.

-The Next Day Inside the Mess Hall-​

Liam ended up spending the rest of the day switching between reading and practicing with his spell tome or playing volleyball in one of the large courts nearby. The Stoll twins came back fairly soon and after seeing the cabin down in the dumps and bothered just about any who would listen to come play with them, Liam included.

As the night neared the Fledgling slept with an uncomfortable burn in the back of his throat.

The next day for the camp was still seeing an aftershock of the Tyrant's attack. Shortly after waking his cabin was called towards the Mess Hall by the Hephaestus counselor hoping to get some extra hands with cleaning up the mess. Ultimately, it led Liam and his cabin, minus one, towards the rubble-filled pavilion.

Slowly Liam leaned down and stuck his shovel underneath a large pile of wood debris. Giving out a small grunt the boy pulled the shovel away balancing the crushed timber pulling it to the side near a fairly large wheelbarrow.

Pink-shaded wood dropped into the barrow's rusted metal as Liam twisted his tool to its side. A small grinding noise rang out as the boy pulled back keeping a firm grasp on the shovel's long wooden handle.

All around the Hermes cabin was doing much of the same thing. A few were shoveling like Liam while most of the others were carrying large pieces of debris from the tables that wouldn't fit or parts of the marble building itself.

The children of Hephaestus' hands seemed to blur as the quickly assembled hundreds of small interlocking pieces slowly making new tables, keeping the same aesthetics from before. A few were cutting out what looked like a new marble pillar to replace one of the ones that had been broken.

Slowly trudging back over towards the towering pile of pink wood in front of Liam muttered, "Damn this sucks..."

Just a short distance away another member of Camp Half-blood was approaching with an almost plastic-like smile permanently burnt onto his face. To most, he would look just as happy yet to those with even a modicum of life experience they'd see the smile for what it was.

A lie. Nothing but a false facade of bravery hoping to keep those around him happy and complacent.

Michael Yew hurriedly walked forward with his eyes scanning the crowd in front of him. Just a few minutes ago his brother had approached him with an offer.

Fletcher Yew had come to him seemingly ready to tell Michael what it was that had it him in a rut. The older brother, Michael, had been a little overjoyed that his younger brother had finally wanted to talk, he was the only person Michael had left after their mother's...accident.

Fletcher had told him that after coming to camp he had been angry, ready to lash out and bite at whatever was nearby. The two new celebrities, as Fletcher framed it, fit that bill perfectly. A short while later Michael's brother had sheepishly rubbed the back of his head and asked him to go find one who still remained at the camp.

Stepping over a large chunk of wood the teenager thought I can't believe he actually wants to say he's sorry.

Slowly the camper approached Liam as he continued shoveling away hoping to finally finish off the remains of the Aphrodite table. Keeping his too-wide smile plastered onto his face Michael called out, "Hey you're Liam right?"

The black-haired boy turned his head around roughly leaving his shovel sticking out of the pile of pink rubble. Staring at the teen in front of him Liam said, "Yeah...do you need something?"

The more likable Yew brother flashed his twenty-four karat gold smile as he explained, "Oh it's nothing much; I'm here to pick you up. Chiron said you still haven't gotten any armor or weapons, and capture the flag is this Friday."

"Capture the flag?" commented Liam as he walked up to the boy in front of him.

Michael turned around back towards where he came before answering, "It's like a mock battle, all the swords and glory but no real death...usually. The old centaur wanted me to get you geared up."

Just before the two could leave Liam's counselor asked, "Where are you two going?" while wheeling another truckload of debris outside beside them.

Shit. cursed Michael in his head before quickly responding, "Oh nothing I'm just going to go get him geared up for capture the flag this Friday."

A little suspicious Luke dumped the wheelbarrow before he pointed out, "Wouldn't it be better for one of his own cabin mates to take him?"

Fletcher's brother seemed to falter a bit as his mind raced. Slowly the boy's mouth began to open as he reassured, "No, no. Don't worry about it; Chiron said for me to do it so your cabin doesn't have to lose any more manpower."

The other two individuals standing outside the Mess Hall could clearly see Luke purse his lips before he said, "Fine..."

Michael gave the scarred counselor a small nod before walking off heading in the direction of what looked like a large metal shed standing just a couple of feet away from Athena's cabin. Liam quickly followed behind him taking the trip as a chance to take a break from cleanup duty.

Just as the two left Luke muttered, "Wait a second...wasn't capture the flag canceled for this week?" (2)

-Just Outside Camp Half-blood's Armory-​

The building itself was rather small for what Liam thought an armory should be. To him at least, the building looked like a small garden shed but instead of being made up of some type of wood the walls were made of metal.

Slowly both Liam and Michael approached the building, Fletcher's brother was in the lead by about a foot.

"So what, can I just pick anything?" asked Liam as Michael opened unlatched the door in front of them.

The other boy pulled on what looked like a thick iron rod pulling it up towards the sky. Slowly, after a small amount of effort, Michael turned it as the armories double doors started to creak.

Fletcher's brother turned around with the same docile smile then replied, "Yep! You can only choose one though."

Liam's eyes widened as the door of the shack opened letting some of that afternoon's light in. Completely covering the walls of the building were hundreds upon hundreds of glowing weapons made of celestial bronze. Michael stepped forward with Liam following quickly behind him.

The weapons themselves seemed to be sorted into distinct groups while laying below them in what looked like small piles were different mismatched sets of armor. Slowly Liam let his eyes travel around roaming from a large barrel filled to the brim with spears to swords hanging on the wall just behind it.

"Any one of them?" questioned Liam as he paced about the rather small shack.

Michael stood next to the door and explained, "Ya, any one of them, just make sure to close up when you're done. I gotta run..."

Liam turned his head back around towards the door just barely catching Michael's back as he sped back towards the Big House. Leaving his mouth a little ajar the Fledgling thought Weird...

Slowly Liam turned his body back around into the shack taking in the smell of metal and oil that seemed to waft from the place in waves. Leaning down a single shield was lifted up from the piles of armor as Liam took a look at it.

"Maybe if I can get that spell working..." commented Liam as he continued to carry the bronze-plated wood around with him.

A certain weapon came to mind as Liam walked forward heading towards the back of the shed. Lying near the back of the armory in a neat little pile was what seemed to be the leftovers from what everyone else in the camp was using.

Sitting inside the bottom of a very lonely weapon rack was a pair of brass knuckles, an eerily reflective dagger, and the same bronze club Liam had used to fight Clarisse a day before. Leaning down towards the ground the Fledgling's hand gripped upon a familiar handle.

A light jingle of metal was heard as Liam pulled it up with a sour expression on his face. Lightly the boy gave it a small practice swing before letting out a small sigh. Turning back around towards the light behind him Liam thought Still doesn't feel right...

Bringing both of the tools with him Liam walked out of the shack before heading over to the two large metal doors normally used to block its exit. Giving the two things a deliberate push, Liam moved the double doors forwards letting out another loud creak from their hinges.

Just as the doors slammed shut dust seemed to fall from the ceiling scattering around in a small cloud. Almost immediately Liam let out a small cough before cursing, "Dammit!" and brushing the dust out of his hair.

The always present burning in the back of his throat seemed to surge slightly at the irritation before leveling off once again. The feeling, no the need to feed was present in the back of his mind, slowly gnawing away at his thoughts.

Angrily picking up his newly acquired weapon and shield Liam turned around hoping to head back towards the Mess Hall. Just before he could a male voice interrupted him.

"Well it looks like the gullible fool wasn't lying; He got you to come," commented Fletcher Yew while leaning up against the armories wall with his bow in hand.

Immediately Liam's entire stature seemed to become more aggressive as he bit out, "What do you want?"

Liam could feel a hit of adrenaline course through his body as Fletcher seemed to think up a response. Out here in this flat area was the perfect spot for the Archer to start a fight. There were no trees for Liam to retreat into, no night to cloak him, and nothing between the two but the celestial bronze shield attached to his hip.

"From you? Nothing, at least not anymore little freak. What I want is to finally get some recognition in this shithole of a camp and killing a monster seems like the best way to do it." explained the son of Apollo all the while one of his hands were inching closer and closer to the quiver on his back.

Keeping his hand wrapped around the handle inside his shield Liam cajoled, "You know you don't have to do this..."

The two seemed to stare at each other each giving the other their own version of a hateful glare. A pregnant silence took them over; You could hear a pin drop. Breaking the silence, for one of the boys at least, was a voice.

Weak. He's weak, you're strong. Kill him! Seethed the voice from within Liam's mind.

Slowly the Archer seemed to make up his mind as he quietly muttered, "That's where you're wrong."

A single twitch was all it took for Liam to react as he pulled his bronze-leaden shield over his chest just in the nick of time. Almost immediately the Fledgling felt two large impacts as his shield was pushed back slightly, forcing the two arrows in front of him to fall to the ground.

The Archer appeared to blur as he rushed around, sprinting to the side hoping to get around Liam's guard. Pulling out a few more arrows Fletcher held them in his off-hand as he stopped his run. Arrows whizzed through the air.

Liam's eyes widened as he barely moved out of the way of the two bronze-tipped arrows heading towards his feet. With a small growl, he pulled his club from his belt while thinking Okay gotta watch my legs then.

Peaking around the edge of his shield Liam brought his club around in his off-hand trying his best to keep both level. Once again he heard the telltale sign of the boy's golden bow being pulled as a wood croaked just before arrows whistled through the air.

Liam bit his lip in exertion as two more arrows pushed in slightly indented his shield before falling to the ground. Feeling a little angry at the display the Fledgling exclaimed, "Why don't you do something except shoot at me, you coward!"

A short distance away Fletcher's look of quiet focus seemed to fade a bit as he responded, "Me a coward? Hell if anything you're the coward, hiding behind that shield! Why don't you come out and play you red-eyed freak!"

In the back of Liam's mind, the voice continued to egg him on as fury burned in the boy's chest. Slowly, Liam's now blazing eyes narrowed in on Fletcher's bow as he thought All I'd need is one hit.

The Archer knocked another arrow as he tried to think of a way to get around his adversaries shield. He'd already tried to go for the boy's feet just barely poking out from the bronze wall of a shield's bottom to no avail. Slowly Fletcher cursed, "Shit." under his breath.

Taking in a deep breath through his nose Liam gradually lowered his center of gravity. A reckless plan came to his mind. Liam would wait for him to start up another volley then just when Fletcher launched the first arrow he would run forward and try to break the boy's bow, hopefully disarming him.

Quietly, the Fledgling waited for the sound of arrows whistling through the air.

After a quick moment of silence, Fletcher's bow answered him. Once again Liam heard something akin to a whistle ball being thrown through the air as he pushed off his back leg into a yelling charge. Almost immediately, three thumps came onto his shield.

Fletcher looked over in a little shock at the boy's idiotic charge before firing another arrow this time at a piece of Liam's shoulder that seemed to just barely stick out.

Instantly, the Archer saw the charge falter slightly as his arrow's razor-sharp head impacted into pale flash, but it didn't seem to be enough. Liam continued forward ignoring the dull pain in his shoulder as he threw his shield arm outwards smashing into Fletcher with a loud bang.

Fletcher's body tumbled over itself as he fell backward stunned.

A bronze club shot through the air as Liam took the opening he made to attack; a loud scream rang out just a little ways from the cabins as Liam's weapon impacted with the Archer's hand bustling through golden wood.

Fletcher's let out a low hiss as he pushed himself to his rear feeling shards of wood go deep into his hand. Across from him, the vampire's eyes appeared to burn brighter as blood dripped along the ground from the son of Apollo's hand.

The green underneath Fletcher was smeared red as Liam once again came across a sickly sweet smell. All of a sudden, the burning pain in the back of his throat seemed to return tenfold as he hungrily stared at the boy in front of him.

Two fangs peeked out from underneath Liam's lips.

The now disarmed Archer reached near his boot before pulling out what he would refer to as his last resort. A small curved boot dagger came from one of Fletcher's shoes as he hurriedly pulled himself to his feet.

"What'd you think I was just a bow fighter?" growled the boy as he took a stance holding the dagger, point facing towards the sky, in his uninjured hand.

The vampire's face seemed to settle into a snarl as he held his shield up high with a bronze club waiting just behind it. Slowly the two started to circle each other with neither fully committing to a move. A few lackluster swings and swipes were made by either of them before one broke up the monotony.

Fletcher's leather boot rushed forward impacting Liam's shield with a loud bang as the Fledgling started to stumble backward. Liam's eyes went wide as he limply dropped his guard from the hit leaving him open for an attack.

The camper rapidly took advantage of the situation as he brought his celestial bronze dagger forward stabbing into Liam's side.

A blinding pain came from underneath Liam's armpit as the arm holding his club seemed to crumble with its strings cut out. His club dropped to the ground with a hefty thump as Liam pulled away putting his shield back into place.

Goddammit! stormed Liam from within his mind while biting his lips at the pain.

"Come on you damn monster, what're you going to do now?" exclaimed Fletcher as he slowly approached with his dagger in hand.

Liam's mind started to race as he thought about how to get out of this situation.

Go for the weapon?

Liam looked over to see his club a good twenty feet away upturned under some uncut grass.

No that won't work...my shield?

A small scenario played out in his mind as Fletcher continued to stalk forward of Liam beating his adversary to death with his shield.

Shit, I need something else...come on Liam think!

Apollo's son was only five feet away from him now, holding his dagger in an underhand grip just waiting to bring it around Liam's shield. Instantaneously a silly, no a stupid idea came to the Fledgling's mind.

What if I try that? But the book said not to skip steps...who car-

Cutting Liam off from the confines of his own mind was the voice which encouraged Do it.

Standing back up from his crouch Liam kept his shield hefted high as he began to slow his breathing. With a wrenching pull from his mind, the boy felt around for the leftover magicka from earlier surely sitting within him.

Now standing in front of him, Fletcher pulled a sneer onto his face as he jeered, "Oh, have you finally given up? Put down your shield and I'll make it quick...promise."

A small trickle of magicka began to travel from his pool as Liam ordered it to flow out of him. Slowly he looked up and sent out a call, screaming for something anything to respond. The blue wisps surrounding his left hand turned a deep purple as the air near the boy's hand seemed to break.

Across from him Fletcher's grin seemed to shrink as the vampire didn't respond to his taunts. Not even noticing the purple glow coming from behind the shield the Archer approached even closer, completely oblivious.

Almost as soon as the tear was made it closed and with it something was left behind. A shapeless formless being was in his hand, a lesser Daedra. Liam could feel a sizable chunk of his pool disappear being eaten away at the creature squirming in his hand.

As soon as the little creature was done Liam felt an angry push from the thing almost like it was trying to challenge him somehow. Instinctively, Liam squeezed down on it as the lesser Daedra instantly stopped its probing seeming to going limp.

What was the next part...oh yeah forming. thought Liam as an image took place in his mind.

"What are you doing freak?" questioned Fletcher as he finally seemed to notice the eerie purple glow coming from beneath his shield.

Liam didn't answer as the voice within his mind exclaimed, Tear his flesh from his bones!

Gripping the newly formed weapon in his hand, Liam thought he'd sure as hell give it a try. Fletcher's eyes widened as the vampire's shield shot forward smashing into him once again. The archer gave out a whimpering cry as his nose crumpled towards his face spraying blood all over the shield that hit it.

Fletcher brought a hand forward to his face as he stumbled backward, his heart pounding.

The other boy's face widened in a too toothy smile as he swung his new weapon forward. Fletcher could just barely see what the thing was before it impacted him square in the chest. Liam's new weapon was a mace.

Glowing a translucent purple was a large mace with four-prongs that each ended in deathly sharp spikes, serrated at their tips. The weapon itself seemed to be one solid object which tapered down towards its handle. At which sat a small ring and three more serrated spikes serving for a pommel. (3)

All in all, the ghostly object looked fit for some type of demon.

Bones crunched and flesh was rent as Liam's bound weapon slammed into the Archer's shoulder dragging along his chest. Liam could smell something akin to honey as he pulled the mace back bringing with it bloody viscera mixed with shredded orange cloth.

With bloody murder written on his face, Fletcher jumped back barely able to hold onto his dagger as more and more of his blood dripped to the floor. A little fearful he called out, "Y-You won't get away with this."

Liam didn't respond as he brought the mace up again, this time with an almost cruel smile on his face. Metal sparks flew as Fletcher tried to deflect the strike ultimately running it along his arm as his last line of defense was thrown across the field into the armory's metal wall landing in the dirt.

Slowly bring the blood-covered mace back up, Liam stared down onto the boy who was now crumpled down onto the ground in pain. The Fledgling didn't know what it was about the fight, but it just made him feel so...so

Alive.

In the back of the boy's blood-lust addled mind, the voice yelled, This! This is what it means to be my kin.

Liam's foot shot forward as he smashed it into the back of Fletcher who was beginning to openly sob. Trudging across the ground Fletcher's eyes leaked as he pulled himself along in fear with his one good arm.

"S-Stop it." pleaded a quiet voice below him

Liam didn't hear him over the voice in his mind that seemed to be giddy at the sight as it exclaimed, This is what it means to dominate!

Once more a glowing purple mace was brought into the sky followed by a sickening crunch as blood spurt into the air. Going unnoticed by Liam was the ephemeral symbol that appeared over his head glowing a dark red.

If he were paying attention, the symbol was one Liam would most certainly recognize. A demon faced humanoid with two glowing blue eyes and horns to match flew in the sky like a banner threatening all those who would dare challenge it. (4)

"I-I was supposed to be a hero..." quietly muttered Fletcher as black dots began to dance around in his vision.

The lesser Daedra dispelled itself as Liam's blood-covered hands pulled up the beaten body of Fletcher by the back forcing him to his knees. Two large fangs inched closer to the Archer's neck as Fletcher felt a small pinch before finally going unconscious, never to wake again.

Molag Bal quietly stated, A fledgling no more.

In the distance, a scarred son of Hermes stared up into the sky his eyes wide, filled with curiosity.