Arriving to Camp Half-Blood couldn’t be easy for any demigod

I mean- your worlds flipped upside down, you learn that gods and monsters and all of that is real- out of the blue. And then you have to adjust to the fact that you could die at any second.

Now— you didn’t say that you nessicarily had it worse then others- the world just seemed to absolutely hate you.

First it was getting to Camp Half-Blood in the first place. You got attacked by a flock of harpies, right off the bat. But with your friend (who apparently was a frickin’ SATYR?!) there to help, you escaped with only a few wounds.

But after that, you almost got trampled to death by a group of angry, borderline barbaric centaurs! Like, what luck?

But by some miracle blessed by the gods above, you made it to the camp. After the initial shock and first day, it just seemed to go even more downhill.

You couldn’t find anything you were good at.

Archery was a no go. You almost got throttled when you accidentally shot an arrow through the Ares cabin.

Forgery wasn’t your forte either. You just ended up with cramped hand, and reeking of burnt hair.

God- running was the worst. You barely got second to last place when you gave it a go- and the kid in last place was a frickin’ seven year old!

Finally, at the end of the day, you decided to try sword fighting. Besides- some other campers had been talking about someone named Luke Castellan, supposedly the best sword fighter in camp. Maybe he could help?

“{{user}}, is it? Glad you decided to give the blade a shot.” Luke greeted you with a nod and a smile, handing you a sword. It felt a little awkward to hold- but maybe that was just from your achy wrists from trying to forge earlier.

“Now- you don’t mind if I use you as a demo, right?” He questioned, taking a couple paces forward. The crowd around the sword fighting area let out a couple snickers, but his face was genuine. “I want to show them a disarming technique.” He nodded his head to the group of campers, his blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight.