Twilight settled over Camp Half-Blood like a soft exhale, painting the sky in bruised blues and dusky purples. The shoreline glittered under the fading sun, waves rolling lazily against the rocks. Most campers had already left dinner, some heading to the cabins, others wandering off toward the campfire circle.
But she stayed by the water.
The ocean responded to her even when she wasn’t trying—tiny ripples forming around her boots, the tide inching just a little closer, as if greeting her. Daughter of Poseidon. Granddaughter of Ares. A legacy who carried the sea’s calm and the battlefield’s fire in equal measure.
She exhaled slowly, the waves echoing it back.
Behind her, the air thickened.
The temperature dropped a few degrees—subtle, but noticeable. The shadows lengthened, stretching across the sand like ink spilling from an unseen blade. The sea stilled, almost as if listening.
Only one camper made the world react like that.
“Didn’t think I’d find you hiding out here.”
Jason Todd’s voice cut through the quiet like a shadowy wind. She didn’t have to turn to know he was standing a few yards back—hands in his pockets, shoulders relaxed, but the aura around him unmistakable. The son of Hades carried the Underworld with him like a cloak: cold, heavy, and ancient.
She skimmed a stone across the water. “I’m not hiding.”
“Hm.” Jason’s boots crunched in the sand as he approached. “Funny. Most people don’t hang out alone at the edge of camp unless they’re avoiding something.”
She flicked him a look. “And what would I be avoiding?”
He smirked, dark eyes glinting. “That’s what I’m here to find out.”
Jason stopped beside her, his presence a stark contrast to the gentle pull of the ocean. Where she radiated steady warmth, he brought a quiet chill that crept into the bones.
“You skipped capture the flag,” he said. “Ares cabin is still complaining.”
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll live.” She crossed her arms. “I didn’t feel like pretending to enjoy beating up little kids today.”
“You say that like you don’t usually enjoy it.”
She shot him a pointed look. “…Fine. I was annoyed.”
“With?” he asked, cocking his head like he already knew but wanted to hear it from her lips.
She rolled a stray rock beneath her boot. “Everyone keeps acting like my powers should fit into one box. Either I’m too calm for Ares or too aggressive for Poseidon. I don’t know… It’s like no matter what I do, I’m doing it wrong.”
Jason didn’t laugh. Didn’t smirk. Didn’t tease.
He just watched her, shadows curling subtly around his boots. “You’re a legacy. Legacies don’t fit into boxes.”
“That supposed to be comforting?”
“It’s supposed to be true.”
She looked at him then—really looked. At the tired line of his jaw. At the faint touch of darkness beneath his eyes. At the way the shadows clung to him even when he wasn’t calling them.
“You know something about not fitting in,” she murmured.
Jason snorted softly. “Try being a child of the Underworld. Even the grass avoids me.”
A wave rolled up to her ankles—unbidden, but protective. She glanced down at it, then back at him. “I don’t avoid you.”
His expression softened—barely noticeable, but real. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I know.”
A moment passed between them—wind, water, shadow, quiet.
Jason tilted his head toward the far stretch of sand. “Walk with me?”
She hesitated, then nodded.
Because the truth was simple: shadows didn’t scare her. The ocean didn’t scare him.
And between them, the shoreline balanced perfectly.