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Jenna was practicing with her hammer when she felt some disturbance in the air. A churning of sorts. She suddenly heard the sound of horns.

She shrank the hammer to charm size and ran out toward the gate.

She felt a feeling in the pit of her stomach, a heavy sinking of sorts, like a rock in water.

The Camp Gates opened just as she reached them, and she bumped into Reyna. Both girls looked at each other before forging out, at the lead, the rest of the campers behind them.The sentries had their crossbows pointed at something in the sky, Jenna noted, and turned to the direction in which they faced.

Jenna squinted, and her eyes widened. Her body tensed, and she realized that the creatures in the sky were, indeed, gorgons.

Under her breath, she cursed, "Shit."

She heard the daughter of Pluto; Hazel was her name, call out, "Frank!"

Hazel's voice was coated in horror, and Jenna knew what Hazel must be feeling like.

The unclaimed kid- Frank Zhang, had been halfway across the river when the two gorgons caught him. Each gripped his arm in a vice grip, and Jenna's heart dropped in her chest. She had to save him. She had lost her best friend, the love of her life, and she didn't want to let Hazel lose what Jenna had.

She ran toward the gorgons, and her hand flew to her right wrist.

She touched the brown moonstone on the wrench, the same color as her eyes. She hefted it up, ready to throw, but then realized that there was no way she could hit the gorgons without risking Frank dying. She still tried to aim. Her pilum rested in the crease of her hand, lined up with her eyes. She adjusted her grip, placing her thumb and the first two joints of her index finger behind the chord, the index finger supporting the shaft of the pilum. She lifted it above her shoulder, making it even with her head. Her elbow was forwarded slightly, and her bicep and the pilum were parallel to the ground. The pilum's tip pointed a bit towards the ground, and it rested upon her sky-facing palm.

Keeping her hips high, she ran forward on the balls of her feet, her right arm flexing to fix the position of the pilum.

30 steps. She had to run thirty steps.

17 steps, and she sped up, her head and body facing the gorgons.

Nearly there. She put her right foot in front of her center of gravity, her heel touching the ground. As her right foot moved forward, she moved the left foot up and leaned her trunk back at a 115-degree angle.

Move your left leg forward and direct your shoulders and hips towards your target. The words of her trainer whispered in her ear, and she did precisely that.

Wait for your left foot to touch the ground. Straighten your torso. Turn your face toward the direction of the throw. The pilum should be parallel to your shoulders. Position your throwing hand above shoulder level.

The directions hit her mind as they always did. This was the part where she made the most mistakes.

She nailed it. Perfect.

Almost the last step, the one that decides whether she killed the gorgons, or killed the Zhang kid, or missed.

The instructions of her trainer once more filled her mind, and the world around her disappeared. Throw the pilum when your arm is up as high as possible. Once the left foot hits the ground, your left side must be ready to hold the weight of your right leg, which should drive up and forward and bring the hips into a right angle with the throw. You should plant your left heel and thrust forward with your right.

She almost made a mistake here, but like her trainer told her, she shook it off.

There was no room for mistakes in an army. You had to be perfect. One mistake on your part, and the entire army falls. Discipline was the key, and that is why they were divided into cohorts. Two centurions to discipline each cohort, and two praetors to order the centurions.

A systematic approach to win a war.

The Romans reveled in their discipline, their order. It was that which enabled them to win.

Win.

Victory was a term that varied for each and every person.

For Jenna, victory would be when she'd be able to live, after long years of war.

That was what her mother told her, every time Jenna visited her.

Ana Thompson always told her, "Kiddo, you're surviving, not living. I know that it's my fault, my fault that you were born a child of a god. I know that each day is a battle for you, an epic fight to survive.

But for once, Jen, try to live. Not survive. Have some fun, do what you want."

In her heart, Jenna knew that she was just a kid.

A kid thrust into war, while their family, immortal, all powerful beings hid behind the carcasses of their children, never once caring for those of their half-breed children, those who were still out there, fighting, when they knew that their bodies would soon join the mountain of cadavers behind which the cowardly gods hid. That they would soon join their siblings in their death.

The gods, in her eyes, were cowards who were handed the supreme power to control the world, to hold it in their fingers like some plaything.

Powers that fed off their far less powerful children who sacrificed themselves for their family, the number of those who died steadily growing larger over the years.

And the powers of the Olympian Gods came from behind that pile of stiff corpses of their family, family who they never knew, yet family who died for them.

Her thoughts whirled through her mind, and she pushed them out before she performed the final step.

Move your throwing shoulder over your left leg. Your hand should follow through (the entire shoulder, elbow, and hand should move through similar to a bullwhip acting as one with each section following one after the other. Lift your left leg and move your throwing arm, with the elbow placed high and close to the midline. When your arm reaches the top of its arc, let go of the pilum. Your arm should be over your head, in front of you, and not behind your back, when you release the pilum.

And she did just that.

The pilum flew through the air, and her arm dropped to her side, her body leaning forward. It flew through the air, cutting the sky in a perfect arc.

A fruit of over a decade of practicing.

And it hit the right gorgon.

Frank now hung off the arm of a gorgon who could drop him any time.

The gorgon slowed; she could not take the weight.

She didn't seem to realize that her sister was gone, until she looked at the golden dust that was scattered across the ground, the wind pulling at it, making it so that the monster was unable to reform.

The old lady who stood in the water clapped her hands and giggled maniacally.

Old lady.

Goddess, thought Jenna. A real goddess at camp.

Dread seeped into her blood, trickling at first and then all at once.

A freaking goddess at camp, something was wrong.

The dread weighed her down, and she screams internally.

A war would ruin her.

Not that she wasn't ruined, for Jenna knew that she was mentally unstable.

If a war came, she would fight.

But not in the name of family, no. But in the name of what was good and what was right. And she would ensure that everyone knew that.

But for now she watched as the boy who carried the unnamed goddess into camp saved Frank.

The boy thrust out his hand. Jenna didn't know how he did it, or why, but the Tiber surged. A whirlpool formed on the left side of Frank. A giant, watery hand erupted from the stream, copying the unnamed but clearly powerful boy's movements. The giant hand grabbed the gorgon, who dropped Frank in surprise. Then the hand lifted the squawking monster in a liquid vise grip.

The others backed away, yelping, but Jenna stood there, transfixed. Her dark brown eyes followed the movement of water, and her thoughts raced. The boy had brought a goddess into camp. A goddess who was clearly important. Him, an ultra-powerful boy showing up with a goddess and Jason disappearing. The two events could be linked!

The boy made a smashing gesture with his fist, and the giant hand plunged the gorgon into the Tiber. The monster hit bottom and broke into dust. Glittering clouds of gorgon essence struggled to re-form, but the river pulled them apart like a blender. Soon every trace of the gorgon was swept downstream. The whirlpools vanished, and the current returned to normal.

The boy stood on the riverbank, his clothes and skin steaming. Jenna absentmindedly frowned. Why would the river do that to him?

She looked into his eyes, searching for something. At last, she found it.

His emotions. She noted that he looked a bit confused and a bit scared. Of course, a river that was clearly composed of water acting as though it was formed of acid is enough to make anyone piss their pants, so maybe that was where it came from.

The confusion confused her.

Her ADHD caused her to weir off of her thoughts.

Ha! She thought. I used a literary device! Repetition! Take that, old, fussy, annoying English teacher!

Jenna realized that everyone was silently staring at the boy.

Only the old lady- correction- goddess- looked unfazed.

"Well, that was a lovely trip," she said. "Thank you, Percy Jackson, for bringing me to Camp Jupiter."

Reyna made a choking sound. "Percy...Jackson?"

She sounded as if she recognized his name, and Jenna looked at her and raised an eyebrow, jerking her head slightly in the direction of the boy.

'You know him?' Jenna mouthed.

Reyna ignored her, even though Jenna knew that she had seen.

The daughter of Vulcan frowned. That was unusual.

The goddess laughed with delight. "Oh, yes. You'll have such fun together!"

Fun? Reyna looked like she almost wanted to murder the boy, who just looked downright confused.

Then the old lady began to glow and change form. She grew until she was a shining, seven-foot-tall goddess in a blue dress, with a cloak that looked like goat's skin over her shoulders. Her face was stern and stately. In her hand was a staff topped with a lotus flower.

Jenna groaned internally, Juno.

Of course, of all the goddesses to come to Camp, it had to be Juno.

The queen of gods.

If the queen herself came, it meant that, surely, something big and bad was about to come.

Hmm... Could that count as alliteration?

Focus, Jenna. Kneel, unless you want to die.

So Jenna did kneel down to the Queen of Gods.

Percy Jackson was the only one who stood instead of kneeling.

"Juno, huh?" he said. "If I passed your test, can I have my memory and my life back?"

Jenna narrowed her dark brown doe eyes. This kid had to learn how to control his tongue and mannerisms, if he wanted to live.

Especially with you Romans.

Shut Up. Jenna frantically said this to the golden eyes person in her head, and with a laugh, the eyes disappeared.

Juno only smiled. "In time, Percy Jackson, if you succeed here at camp. You've done well today, which is a good start. Perhaps there's hope for you yet."

She turned to them, the campers. "Romans, I present to you the son of Neptune. For months he has been slumbering, but now he is awake. His fate is in your hands. The Feast of Fortune comes quickly, and Death must be unleashed if you are to stand any hope in the battle. Do not fail me!"

Juno shimmered and disappeared.

Jenna's head was spinning. She wanted to faint.

What was the meaning of that cryptic message?

Death must be unleashed.

The words sent shivers down her spine, and she shook her head and stood up, the others following her lead.

Reyna stepped forward. She examined Percy warily, and Jenna had a feeling that she wanted to run him through with her dagger.

"So," she said coldly, "a son of Neptune, who comes to us with the blessing of Juno."

"Look," he said, "my memory's a little fuzzy. Um, it's gone, actually. Do I know you?"

Reyna hesitated. "I am Reyna, praetor of the Twelfth Legion. And...no, I don't know you."

That last part was a lie. Jenna could tell. But it left her wondering why Reyna would lie?

"Hazel," said Reyna, "bring him inside. I want to question him at the principia. Then we'll send him to Octavian. We must consult the auguries before we decide what to do with him."

"What do you mean," Percy asked, "'decide what to do with' me?"

Bad choice. Thought Jenna, but she took pity on the boy.

"I'll do the questioning with you." Jenna declared.

Reyna sent her a look, and Jenna shook her head. Her decision would not change.

And this boy seemed important. She had this gut feeling that he would help them with Jason.

Reyna glared at Jenna once again before turning to Percy, "Before we accept anyone into camp, we must interrogate them and read the auguries. Juno said your fate is in our hands. We have to know whether the goddess has brought us as a new recruit...."

Reyna studied Percy as if she found that doubtful.

"Or," she said more hopefully, "if she's brought us an enemy to kill."

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Adhara's Letters!

Yes, this mostly focuses on Jenna's thoughts, and we'll be having a lot of fun, a whole act with no Jenson/Jasonna ( It's all I could come up with! ) or Percabeth.

Anyway, I think I have an update schedule figured out.

Next week onwards, you'll get 5 updates a week. 

2 updates a week on two books, and one update a week on one book. 

Tomorrow, you'll probably get an update on 'My Love'. A bit hypocritic of me, I know, giving you an update even though 'My Love' has been plagiarized. 

Quick Warning: DON'T OPEN ANY TRUYEN SITES! YOU COULD GET A MALWARE ATTACK!

QOTD: Why do you think Jenna is OBSESSED with literary devices? 

That's all. 

Loads of Love, 

Adhara