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[indent][indent][indent][indent][justify][color=808080]Elias remained where he was, off to the side of the bleachers, as River read through the list. His breathing was still elevated from the run, but it steadied with each name that followed. He listened the way he did when information mattered, or should matter, absorbing details without letting them register on his face, filing them away inside instead. Third place. Not bad, he supposed, but not surprising, either. If anything, the number confirmed what his body already knew: he had moved well, efficiently, without crossing into recklessness. It was a familiar balance. Enough effort to succeed. Enough restraint to walk away intact. He didn’t feel pride so much as a muted sense of alignment, of things behaving as they were supposed to.[/color]

[color=#808080]What briefly caught his attention was the cluster of names above his own. Some belonged to faces he knew, like Trinity and River himself; others, like Mikaela and Leo, were still names without faces. His eyes flicked across the stands almost reflexively, not really searching but orienting. He took in motion, posture, energy—who looked restless, who looked spent, who had already checked out. It was less curiosity than habit, a practiced scan of the room.[/color]

[color=#808080]River’s dismissal fractured the moment. Campers began peeling away in waves, relief and irritation splitting cleanly along the fifteen-minute line. Elias didn’t move with the first wave, nor when the second hesitated, resigned, and turned back toward the course. Only as the arena thinned did he drift toward the bleachers, claiming a seat a few rows up. He was far enough from the bottleneck to avoid conversation, but close enough to keep an eye on things or, more precisely, on one person in particular who hadn’t passed.[/color]

[color=#808080]There was no need to guess at the disappointment; it was written plainly in the set of her shoulders, despite the comforting presence near her. Elias watched, silent and still, as the last of the crowd dissolved around her.[/color]

[color=#808080]Unlike what appeared to be the vast majority of her peers, Mikaela had waited rather impatiently as the remaining campers completed their testing. But as fast as she wanted them to finish, the woman still took full advantage of the benefits of being one of the first ones to finish. She took the time to carefully observe everyone else's performances, make mental notes, and quickly identify couple of standouts: a redheaded bearded guy who turned into beast on the field, a dark-haired Hispanic guy who gave the girl Mika assumed was Miss First Place a run for her money, and a blonde, athletic girl who blew through the course in such a way that, even as competitive as she was, had Mika thinking of ways to approach her later to ask for tips.[/color]

[color=#808080]After some lackluster performances (including one by Miss Beverly Hills herself, who Mika was surprised even completed the course in the first place given the short time period between their hike and the assessment), the daughter of Ares felt confident about having claimed herself a spot in the top three. Her confidence, it turned out, was well-placed... For the most part. Her name was called second, but so were two additional names: River’s and someone called Leo Lancaster. It turns out that more than one person could share a placement spot in this assessment– a fact that somewhat soured Mika’s mood. She did her best not to show it and remind herself that this wasn’t an [/color][i][color=#808080]actual[/color][/i][color=#808080] test, nor was she being graded in any way that mattered. But the fierce competitor in her would always be let down when the top spot wasn’t hers. It was a habit she would need to start kicking.[/color]

[color=#808080]Lost as she was in the mental dissection of her run, the dark-haired woman didn’t notice they had been dismissed until what looked like half of the roster started to rise from their seats and make their way out of the arena. Her green eyes snapped back into focus, and she jumped up instinctively without a second thought. It was only after she was on her feet that she realized she had no idea what to do next.[/color]

[color=#808080]Mika went over the potential activities she could get into.[/color]

[color=#808080]One: she could return to the sanctity of her cabin and put that personal punching bag and matching kickboxing gloves to good use.[/color]

[color=#808080]Two: she could seek out whatever gym facility was available at camp and begin her quest to improve the weaknesses she pinpointed in her previous performance.[/color]

[color=#808080]Three: she could drown her disappointment in food by pigging out in the cafeteria[/color][color=#808080][b].[/b][/color]

[color=#808080]Four: she could approach one of the top performers of the group and convince them to become her training buddy, and maybe even make a friend in the process.[/color]

[color=#808080]The daughter of Ares chose number four.[/color]

[color=#808080]Mikaela’s jade eyes scanned her surroundings, hoping to catch one of the other demigods that placed in the top three to hopefully start a conversation. The blonde woman who had earned the number one spot appeared to be occupied with a shirtless, breathtakingly handsome one-armed man (whom Mika suspected was a son of Aphrodite, given how she had to tear her eyes away from him before she started visibly drooling all over herself). The redheaded man was busy, too, conversing with a handful of others– not something she wanted to interrupt. Just as she was giving up hope, she caught sight of the tall, dark-haired Hispanic guy she'd mentally complimented earlier sitting by his lonesome a few rows above her. [/color]

[color=#808080][i]Jackpot.[/i][/color]

[color=#bc2747]“Considering how amazing you did out there, you're either Leo or Elias,” [/color][color=#808080]the woman began with a smile as she walked up the bleachers to close the distance between herself and the man, shooting the nameless stranger a playful wink. [/color][color=#bc2747]“I'm Mikaela, Miss Second Place herself,”[/color][color=#808080] she introduced herself with an outstretched hand as soon as she was within his reach, poking fun at her assessment placement. While a sliver of disappointment at being second best and having to share the spot with two others still remained, she figured there was no point in crying over spilled milk. [/color]

[color=#808080]Elias recognized her voice before he saw her face—a tone that was confident and light, already assuming a familiarity he hadn’t offered.[/color]

[color=#808080]He looked up before he could stop himself. [/color]

[color=#808080]Dark hair was pulled neatly back, revealing green eyes that held an undiminished focus, the kind that hadn’t faded even after her run, it seemed. [/color][color=#d4af37][i]Mikaela[/i][/color][color=#808080], he recalled. Now the name had a face. It wasn’t that it wasn’t a striking one either, but Elias had chosen this spot for the sole reason of hoping to avoid company. Then again, Mikaela didn’t seem like someone who waited for an invitation. With a wink that made him blink twice, he could still sense the competitive undercurrents and the need to claim a bit of ground even if only in conversation. Elias didn’t exactly mind, but he had little interest in navigating this kind of uncertain social current. Not when he was still struggling to find his way back to shore.[/color]

[color=#808080]Nevertheless, he reached out. [/color]

[color=#d4af37]“Elias Trueno,”[/color][color=#808080] he replied, taking her offered hand while his gaze remained level on hers. [/color][color=#d4af37]“Apparently not second, but I guess I can’t complain.”[/color][color=#808080] The words came easily enough. The fact that he was still sitting here, making small talk, did not.[/color]

[color=#808080]He shifted sideways on the bench, making room without a word, his attention drifting once more toward the course.[/color]

[color=#d4af37]“So, second place. That’s nothing to really sneeze at,”[/color][color=#808080] he remarked, eyes forward. [/color][color=#d4af37]“Which begs the question…what’s keeping you here?”[/color]

[color=#808080]An aura of caution and hesitation seemed to emanate from Elias’s seated figure as she occupied the space on the bench he had so kindly offered to her. There was an icy edge to the young man’s words that Mika didn’t miss, but she didn’t blame him for it. She understood it, even. Mikaela could only assume that, in a place like this, it was self-preservation to want to hold people at arm’s length. Whatever feuds the gods or fellow demigods might have between themselves could bring serious or even deadly negative consequences if one were to find themselves associating with the wrong people or person. That concern didn’t mean Mika wanted to keep to herself, though. Friendships had always been an important part of her life, and in a place like this, having them could be the difference between life and death. [/color]

[color=#bc2747]“I figured talking to a fellow athlete about the course could be my best shot at breaking the ice around here,” [/color][color=#808080]she admitted with a shrug, shifting her own eyes back to the obstacles and watching some of the failing demigods take their places at the beginning by the tire trail again. Did that mean they had to repeat the whole thing? Damn. She must’ve missed that earlier. [/color][color=#bc2747]“I just got here this morning and apparently missed some party that happened last night. So, because I lost my first chance to build some bridges, I know absolutely nobody here. Well, with the exception of Ariana over there–” [/color][color=#808080]Mika added as an afterthought, pointing to the pouting bombshell daughter of Aphrodite and chuckling at the memory of their initial meeting.[/color]

[color=#808080]His gaze followed the direction of her gesture, and almost against his will, it landed and stayed a bit too long on Ariana.[/color]

[color=#808080]She was difficult to overlook.[/color]

[color=#808080]Elias registered that fact, then just as quickly, he pulled his attention back, anchoring it firmly on Mikaela instead. A wry smile touched the corner of his mouth, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.[/color]

[color=#d4af37]“Yeah, well,” [/color][color=#808080]he said, his tone dry. [/color][color=#d4af37]“You didn’t miss much, if that makes you feel any better. I rolled in last night, right in the middle of it. Whole thing was kind of a dud.” [/color][color=#808080]He paused, adding as if it were an afterthought, [/color][color=#d4af37]“By my standards, anyway.” [/color]

[color=#808080]Mikaela let out a dramatic, loud whistle of relief before offering a grin to Elias. [/color][color=#bc2747]“I hate that it was a dud for you, man, but I’m glad I missed it, then. I would’ve been so disappointed if my first demigod party was shit when compared to the parties my friends and I threw back home in Miami,” [/color][color=#808080]she told the man with a laugh, quickly reminiscing of the good times back with her friends in the 305. She had barely been gone two days, and she was already feeling homesick. Wild.[/color]

[color=#808080]Elias snorted softly. [/color][color=#d4af37]“Miami parties? Yeah, you definitely would’ve walked out disappointed.” [/color][color=#808080]His eyes drifted back toward the course, then returned to Mikaela, studying her with a renewed intensity. [/color][color=#d4af37]“I’m guessing no one gave you a heads-up about all this training either?” [/color][color=#808080]Not that it seemed to matter, considering little Miss Second Place had called herself an athlete. [/color]

[color=#808080]Mika shrugged her shoulders. [/color][color=#bc2747]“Kind of? All Daddy Warbucks explained to me when he asked me to come here was that I’d get help with finessing my powers, so I came into this with the mindset that training was going to be a part of it,”[/color][color=#808080] she explained, poking fun at her godly father with the use of the nickname in the process. Whether Ares was like the fictional character or not was anyone’s guess, but it was too fitting to pass up. [/color][color=#bc2747]“What about you? Did they tell you anything before you came here?”[/color]

[color=#808080]Elias released a short, breathy laugh at the [/color][i][color=#808080]Daddy Warbucks[/color][/i][color=#808080] comment. He leaned back slightly, settling his forearms on his thighs. [/color]

[color=#d4af37]“I got a letter,”[/color][color=#808080] he said. [/color][color=#d4af37]“No explanation. No preparation. Just my father’s name, a time, and a place.”[/color][color=#808080] He shrugged one shoulder, a gesture that suggested both acceptance and mild irritation. [/color][color=#d4af37]“Figured I’d get the extra details when I arrived. That’s usually how these things go, isn’t it?”[/color]

[color=#808080]A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. [/color]

[color=#d4af37]“Something about being the Chosen One.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Mikaela had been vacillating between elation at making Elias laugh and curiosity for the contents of the letter he mentioned when he dropped the lore of said letter having said he was ‘The Chosen One’. As if on queue, Mika's perfectly arched dark eyebrows rose, and she let out a long whistle. [/color][color=#bc2747]“‘The Chosen One’, huh?”[/color][color=#808080] she repeated, feeling the corners of her own mouth curling upwards but unable to stop herself. There was no malice or ill intent in her words, but her voice carried that tell-tale trembling of a chuckle from an upcoming joke. [/color][color=#bc2747]“He's not very creative, is he? Your dad? Out of all the titles he could've given you, he picks the most cliché one? He could've at least [/color][color=#bc2747][i]tried[/i][/color][color=#bc2747] to be more original,[/color][color=#bc2747]” [/color][color=#808080]she jested, letting out the chortle she'd been holding back. [/color][color=#bc2747]“I bet you could pick a better slogan for yourself if you wanted to. I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours…” [/color][color=#808080]she taunted, wiggling her eyebrows playfully at the man. [/color]

[color=#d4af37]“Yeah,”[/color][color=#808080] Elias said, his tone dry. [/color][color=#d4af37]“Zeus. My father. The big guy. King of the gods. Throws lightning, sleeps around—” [/color][color=#808080]His mouth twisted slightly before he continued, his voice edged with irony. [/color][color=#d4af37]“—and apparently sends out letters that sound like he’s crowning you The Chosen One, even if he never comes right out and says it.”[/color]

[color=#808080]What made the letter truly absurd, he reflected, was its complete lack of actual useful information. There was no rundown of the camp, no explanation of the training assessments, and no guidance on what he was supposed to do once he actually arrived. It had been a summons, clearly, and not an invitation.[/color]

[color=#808080]The New Year's Eve party hadn’t helped, either. In its few good moments—the surprisingly delicious food, the dazzling fireworks, the brief illusion of normal celebration—it had lulled him into a false sense of comfort. So, it was the illusion that had gotten to him more than the party itself. Well, that and one undeniable fact: the people here were almost unnervingly attractive. Clearly, being a child of the gods came with certain…aesthetic advantages, and for some people more than others.[/color]

[color=#808080]Elias’ description of his father made Mikaela chuckle. If she was reading the situation correctly, then they both knew the same amount of information about their fathers: jack and shit. Sure: she had googled her father as soon as his identity had been revealed to her. But whether or not he was still the same man as the fables and stories long shared about him was Mika's guess. You can only get to know someone so much over sporadic phone calls. [/color][color=#bc2747]“I don’t know much about Ares other than what my mom told me and him being the god of war and all, but clearly being vague and giving useless information is something that runs in the family. Though at least my dad called me to ask me to come here. He doesn't strike me as the kind of guy to have the patience to write a letter."[/color]

[color=#d4af37]“Well, the letter wasn’t exactly… elaborate,” [/color][color=#808080]Elias said, a wry understatement hanging in the air between them. He paused, as if weighing the memory. [/color][color=#d4af37]“Three sentences, to be exact.” [/color][color=#808080]He shrugged, long accustomed to his father’s vague, half-present way of communicating. [/color]

[color=#808080]Mikaela scoffed and shook her head.[/color][color=#bc2747] “[/color][i][color=#bc2747]Three sentences[/color][/i][color=#bc2747]?” [/color][color=#808080]she repeated slowly, as if taking her time pronouncing the words would help ease her disbelief. [/color][color=#bc2747]“That’s fucking ridiculous. Who the fuck is absent for a person’s entire life and thinks a three-sentence letter is enough?”[/color][color=#808080] she argued, her green eyes suddenly blazing with indignation. [/color][color=#bc2747]“Only a god can be selfish enough to think three sentences is worth jack. I’d be pissed off, too.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Elias' gaze flickered to Mikaela, surprised by the vehemence in her voice. He wasn't used to people getting worked up on his behalf, especially not over something as mundane as a letter from his father.[/color]

[color=#d4af37]"Yeah, well," [/color][color=#808080]he said with another half-shrug, a gesture of practiced resignation. [/color][color=#d4af37]"What are you gonna do? It's not like I can exactly march up to Mount Olympus or whatever and give him a piece of my mind." [/color][color=#808080]And frankly, given his father’s gift to him last night, he felt…weird to think about him so critically. So, Elias changed the subject.[/color]

[color=#d4af37]“You mentioned your mom told you about your dad,” [/color][color=#808080]he continued after a moment, his voice softening slightly with genuine interest. [/color][color=#d4af37]“What did she say?” [/color][color=#808080]The question surprised him with how easily it came; it wasn’t idle curiosity. Mikaela was one of the few people he’d met so far who seemed to have even a fraction of the context he didn’t. Maybe it was a risk, but he found he wanted to know.[/color]

[color=#999999]Mikaela didn’t have to think about his question too long.[/color][color=#bc2747] “She just told me he was a guy she’d met at an underground fight club one night who she ended up dating for a few months,”[/color][color=#808080] Mika said matter-of-factly, shrugging her shoulders. Her parents' getting-together story wasn’t exactly out of a romance fairy tale. Her mom bought her dad a beer, her dad brought her mom back to his place, they dated for a few months and Mika was born after they'd broken up. What she had told Elias pretty much summarized the relevant bits of it. [/color][color=#bc2747]“I always knew about the powers, though, but I never understood why I had them or where they came from. [/color][color=#bc2747][i]‘You’re just different like that: special’[/i][/color][color=#bc2747], my mom used to tell me with a shrug before switching over to whatever other topic of conversation first came to her mind. I never knew who my dad was until Daddy Warbucks himself popped up at my mom’s house on my eighteenth birthday and told me all about it.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Elias fell quiet, his gaze fixed on the training course as a vague heaviness settled behind his ribs. Silence stretched between them, filled only by the distant shouts of other campers and the occasional aquatic slap of someone diving into the pool.[/color]

[color=#808080]The feeling Mikaela’s story provoked wasn’t sharp enough to be anger. If he had to name it, he would call it a profound sense of displacement. Elias had spent most of his life operating much like he’d run the course: with enough effort to stay ahead and enough restraint to avoid breaking anything, himself included. He’d learned early that answers were rarely given simply because you wanted them; you adapted, you observed, you kept moving. Above all, you accepted the lack of context and built your strategy around the void it ultimately made.[/color]

[color=#808080]Hearing Mikaela’s account—delivered so plainly, so casually—that her mother had offered even a fragment of truth throughout her childhood… it unsettled him more than he anticipated. It wasn’t that her story was necessarily better, but at least it was a tangible piece of a narrative. Elias had been given no framework and no foundational lore to steady himself against, and he had always treated that gaping absence the way he treated most things: with silent, internal processing, filing the confusion away and moving forward without complaint.[/color]

[color=#808080]But now, sitting there, he couldn’t help the thought that surfaced uninvited.[/color]

[color=#808080]Even half an explanation would’ve been [/color][i][color=#808080]something[/color][/i][color=#808080].[/color]

[color=#808080]Something to offer his mother when summer storms gathered and she pressed a hand to her chest as if the atmosphere itself had turned hostile. Something to cling to when he was still young enough to believe problems had identifiable causes, and causes had logical solutions. Something to justify why a god had arrived and departed without a backward glance, leaving the burden of constancy neatly in Elias’s mortal hands.[/color]

[color=#808080]There had been no warning. No story to soften the edges of the inexplicable. Just a power that manifested too early and too violently, and an increasingly frail woman who tried valiantly to pretend it wasn’t happening. Meanwhile, her son learned, swiftly and silently, how to make himself smaller when the world watched, and stronger when the sky cracked open.[/color]

[color=#d4af37]“Well, that’s something,” [/color][color=#808080]Elias managed finally, exhaling a slow breath as if he could dispel the thought with air alone. He straightened slightly on the bench, a subtle reset in his posture. Now was not the moment to dissect the complicated sediment of his paternal feelings. Perhaps no moment ever would be.[/color]

[color=#bc2747]“I guess so,” [/color][color=#808080]Mika admitted, shrugging her shoulders again. The origin of her powers had been a hot, albeit taboo, topic in her household. Hearing Ares explain her supernatural heritage at age 18 had been very validating, but she still lamented that she'd had to wait that long to finally get her answers. She couldn't imagine how much more strongly demigods like Elias must feel about being summoned to camp without even a clear explanation of their background. It was such a loaded, heavy subject.[/color]

[color=#bc2747]“By the way, you never answered my earlier question about branding yourself,” [/color][color=#808080]Mikaela teased, hoping to lighten up the cloudy mood the conversation had taken.[/color]

[color=#d4af37]“Honestly?” [/color][color=#808080]he said, a bit thankful for the conversation being back at safer ground.[/color][color=#d4af37] “I wouldn’t know where to start. That kind of thing doesn’t exactly run in the family, if that wasn’t already obvious with my name.”[/color][i][color=#d4af37]And my entire history,[/color][/i][color=#808080] he added silently. His mother’s choice had been one of blatant irony, a motive he’d only grasped years later. It may have been her way to claim a part of him that belonged solely to her, untouched by the legacy of Zeus. That, however, remained his private speculation, a theory he had never quite confirmed.[/color]

[color=#808080]Mikaela pondered momentarily on Elias’ words, trying to think about what he meant, when the realization hit her and made her smile. Whether it was a comical coincidence or just an example of their fathers’ strange sense of humor, it seemed that Ares and Zeus had made interesting choices when selecting their mothers as the women they wanted to procreate with.[/color][color=#bc2747] “I guess we have more in common than we thought. Your last name is [/color][i][color=#bc2747]Trueno[/color][/i][color=#bc2747], like your dad's thunder. And my last name is [/color][i][color=#bc2747]Bravo[/color][/i][color=#bc2747], like my dad's bravery. I'm telling you: they couldn't have planned that shit better even if they'd tried.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Elias chuckled at Mikaela's observation, shaking his head in amusement. [/color][color=#d4af37]“Damn. I guess our dads had a sense of humour, after all, albeit a really fucked up one.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Mikaela giggled and rolled her eyes. [/color][color=#bc2747]“You can say that again.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Before she could go on to explain to her new friend all about her self-appointed [/color][color=#808080][i]Matador[/i][/color][color=#808080] title[/color][color=#808080], movement out of the corner of her eyes caught the woman’s attention. Intrigued, Mika turned around just in time to watch Ariana’s hazel eyes lock on Elias. She watched in amusement as the brunette bit her lower lip, winked at the man and turned back to her push-ups with a proud, satisfied smirk illuminating her face.[/color]

[color=#bc2747]“Oh shit: I think she likes you,”[/color][color=#808080] Mika was quick to tease, grinning widely as she turned back to Elias. [/color][color=#bc2747]“Damn, boy: I’m jealous. Catching the attention of a daughter of Aphrodite without a single word? I think your dad might be right: you [/color][color=#bc2747][i]are[/i][/color][color=#bc2747] The Chosen One.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Elias had clocked the look. The lip bite. The wink. The unmistakable confidence of someone who knew exactly what effect she was having and enjoyed it.  A frown tugged at his lips.[/color]

[color=#d4af37]“Yeah, no,” [/color][color=#808080]he said flatly. [/color][color=#d4af37]“That’s not destiny. That’s probably Aphrodite genetics doing what they do best.”[/color][color=#808080] He glanced back toward the obstacle course, where Tapeesa was now being helped out of the pool. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.[/color]

[color=#d4af37]“Besides,” [/color][color=#808080]he added, his voice lower, [/color][color=#d4af37]“considering how efficiently I’ve managed to mess things up with people in record time, I’m not exactly racing to add another complication.”[/color]

[color=#808080][i]Well, color her curious…[/i][/color]

[color=#808080]Mikaela allowed herself to be nosy and follow Elias’ line of sight, her eyes falling upon a lovely, braided-haired brunette and a ginger man beside her. From the way his voice had lowered and the tense body language, Mika could sense that there was a whole lot more to this story than what was being vaguely implied right now. [/color][color=#bc2747]“Do you want to talk about it?”[/color][color=#808080] the woman said softly, a hint of caution in her voice. She wanted to know what ‘mess-up’ and ‘complication’ the son of Zeus was talking about, but she also didn’t want to overstep and potentially ruin all of the progress she had made with someone from camp other than Ariana. [/color][color=#bc2747]“We can pig out in the cafeteria while you fess up all your deepest, darkest secrets to me,” [/color][color=#808080]she teased with a chuckle, hoping that the humor would instill trust in the man.[/color]

[color=#808080]Elias considered Mikaela’s offer, weighing the risk of looking foolish in front of yet another potential friend. He’d always been cautious about sharing too much, a habit born of necessity more than any conscious choice. Still, something about Mikaela’s easygoing nature put him at ease in a way he hadn’t expected.[/color]

[color=#d4af37]“Alright,” [/color][color=#808080]he said, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his mouth.[/color][color=#d4af37] “But don’t get your hopes up. I’m not much of a pig.”[/color]

[color=#808080]Well. [/color]

[color=#808080]He [/color][color=#808080][i]had [/i][/color][color=#808080]said much.

[b]End of Part 1[/b][/color][/justify][/indent][/indent][/indent][/indent]

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