Espionage Work Is Really Annoying pt. 1
While Miraak observed the objects around him and Tyson happily ate sweets, Miraak, for a moment, stopped looking at what was in front of him. His gaze slid toward the walls, as if he were following someone with his eyes. At the same time, some sounds began to come from outside the house, accompanied by malicious laughter.
That was enough for Tyson, who just a second ago had been genuinely cheerful, to change his expression into one of pure panic. He stood up immediately.
"Oh. No. They came back", he said, as he began running around his small house, desperately searching for things. He grabbed what looked like an old fire extinguisher from one corner and then a bowl filled with water.
Miraak, arms crossed, seemed to be looking straight through the wall with ease. His eyes focused on what was happening outside. A kind of harpy carried a lit torch toward one of the corners of the house, clearly enjoying herself, accompanied by other monsters. These others looked more like humans who had been cursed and partially transformed into animals, which made them slightly grotesque.
They had surely earned the divine punishment of one of the gods to end up like that.
The smell of burning filled the house almost immediately, along with smoke that began to seep inside. Tyson quickly ran to the spot where the structure could be seen starting to burn from the outside and threw the bowl of water at that corner. Then he pulled out pieces of wood from another area and began repairing everything rapidly.
Miraak, meanwhile, looked around the house and noticed similar patches in many places. It seemed those monsters took pleasure in attacking the foolish Cyclops. However, upon closer inspection, it was obvious that Tyson had very good muscles, even if they were not formally trained. Even so, they were strong and resilient, the result of constantly working and repairing things with his hammer.
Miraak walked toward the front door and opened it with complete simplicity.
"Wait. Danger", Tyson shouted immediately, trying to stop him before he stepped outside. But it was already too late.
"Hahaha. You finally came out, disgusting...", the harpy managed to say before she could continue.
Suddenly, her entire body was devoured by what looked like tentacles made of ink that rose from the ground.
"Aaaah", she screamed in pain, as she felt those tentacles crushing each one of her bones.
Several of the other monsters nearby froze for a moment and looked toward Miraak, who stared at them as if they were trash. Then he moved his hand.
Dozens of identical tentacles emerged from the ground, trapping each of them and making them suffer the same fate. All of them, except one, who was thrown directly in front of Miraak.
That one had been hiding at a distance. From his gaze, he seemed to be the leader. He was a kind of owl man, the result of a curse. And from what Miraak had noticed earlier on Olympus, among the seats present there, it was obvious that this was a punishment imposed by the goddess of wisdom.
"Why do you attack him?", Miraak asked, his gaze fixed on him.
The man, the instant he felt that calm stare, was invaded by a fear that seemed to rise from the deepest part of his being. As if a great dragon were watching him, ready to devour him.
"I. I. It is for the goddess. Maybe she will forgive me if I bring her the head of her enemy's son", he said immediately, as if trapped in a trance of fear that forced him to say everything.
"Mmm", Miraak replied simply, as he recalled the disputes that existed among some of the gods.
Surely that idiot wanted to free himself from his curse. And most likely, many other cursed mortals tried the same. Many of the monsters that existed had not been born for destruction. Many had been created by the gods themselves. Something truly stupid. Basically, they went around creating their own enemies or the enemies of their children, only to later despise or use them.
That only increased the contempt Miraak felt toward them.
Miraak moved his hand and turned away, while the tentacles of darkness devoured the man, who screamed in agony.
…
Percy climbed the rock wall, that infernal and complicated tower, without even a single scratch, under the cheers of everyone present. Many followed him with genuine excitement every time they watched him, since, possibly, Percy was quite popular at that moment.
He jumped down from the tower with ease, while the crowd applauded him. Smiling, he waved to everyone before approaching Annabeth, who tossed him a towel.
"That must have been a new record", Percy said, looking at her with a confident smile.
"You are still dreaming", Annabeth replied with a slightly teasing tone. "Remember that there were many truly powerful demigods in the past. Do you really think it would be that easy to break some of their records?"
"Well, I just have to try a little harder", Percy added casually.
Both of them walked through the camp, until Percy slowed down and looked directly toward the Big House. Something seemed to nest in his mind. The prophecies returned to his thoughts, or more precisely, the first one. The other two he had not understood at all. Even when he asked his teacher about them, he only received a mocking look and a comment along the lines of, "Why would I destroy something just for a brat?", before being struck and left behind.
The next day, however, he was left a note ordering him to finish his stupid mission before returning home to train.
That was the reason he stayed at the camp, even though for a long time he had wanted to go back home to his mother. Even knowing that doing so would also result in his teacher beating him constantly during training. Still, Percy knew that this was a way to become stronger before the competition that was about to fall upon him.
"What's wrong?", Annabeth asked when she noticed the worried expression on Percy's face.
Percy looked at her before answering. "It's nothing. I was just thinking about how Grover might be doing", he said, lying.
"He'll be fine. After all, he has that magic flute and his spectral friends", she replied, although deep down she was also somewhat worried.
After a moment, they parted ways. Percy entered his Poseidon cabin and looked around. The place was lonely, reserved only for him as the son of one of the Big Three. His eyes drifted toward the symbol that represented Poseidon. The trident.
Every time he saw it, Percy frowned. That trident only reminded him of who his father was. Without lingering on it any longer, he ignored it and walked toward what looked like a board covered with a cloth. He pulled it away.
On the board were several hand drawn faces, with names written beneath them and multiple notes he had made himself.
For example, Clarisse's read: daughter of the idiot Ares. Possible camp traitor and thief of the lightning bolt. But she does not seem smart enough to have pulled that off.
And so it went with each member of the camp.
In the center was Cronos, very poorly drawn, by the way. Around it were written reasons why a camper might do something like this, along with strands of yarn connecting some campers to certain motivations.
Some of those reasons were not being acknowledged by their parents. Others were more stupid, like having an idiot father. In fact, every camper from the Ares cabin was connected to that point.
In one corner was Annabeth. She was the only one not truly connected to any reason. For Percy, she was the only one who did not seem suspicious. After all, she had risked her life to accompany him on an impossible mission. And now, he trusted her deeply.
Percy stared at Annabeth's drawing for a few seconds before writing a new reason.
Friend.
Then, he connected the strand of yarn to Annabeth.
After all, according to the prophecy, a friend would betray him. And right now, Annabeth was the only one he truly considered a friend. Even so, he felt uneasy. Having that as a reason left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"Master, why don't you just tell me how to solve this and be done with it?", Percy murmured, a slight headache forming as he looked at every camper on that cursed board. There were truly many of them. "Do the gods really exist just to have children?", he added, annoyed.
The worst part was that there could even be children who had not yet arrived at the camp. Like those who had arrived recently.
As the days passed, Percy continued investigating, but he truly found nothing suspicious in any of them. He tried to befriend everyone, to infiltrate among them, to listen to their stories.
But that only made the strands and the reasons multiply even more.
He heard complaints, frustrations, and resentment. Many had problems with their parents, even those who had been acknowledged. Others simply wanted to have their own mission, just like him.
And with every story, the reasons kept multiplying.