It had been a month since my strange journey through the dreamsea, and I had hoped that time would reveal the full extent of my powers. But instead, I felt stuck. The more I tried to explore my abilities, the more I encountered an invisible barrier—something preventing me from tapping into the true depths of my potential. Morpheus had hinted that I was only at the beginning, but whatever had changed inside me after the dreamsea, I wasn't getting access to it.
I'd spent the month training in secret, mostly alone. While Percy and Annabeth kept up their usual routines, I kept my powers hidden. I could manipulate dreams, sure. I could even pull small fragments of dreamscapes into the waking world—but they were fleeting, vanishing in seconds like mist in the sunlight. And every time I tried to push further, the same mental block stopped me cold. The frustration grew, but I couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't just me being impatient. Something—or someone—was keeping me from breaking through.
I had been avoiding my friends. If they asked about my progress, I would shrug it off with sarcasm, hiding my real struggles. After all, who wanted to admit that the son of a god couldn't figure out his own powers? But tonight, everything was about to change.
It was a stormy evening when the camp suddenly fell into an unusual silence. The kids at Camp Half-Blood always had something going on, but this silence was eerie. I was making my way back from another failed training session when I saw Chiron waiting near the entrance to the Big House, his expression more serious than I'd ever seen it.
"The Oracle wishes to see you," Chiron said without preamble, his voice calm but urgent.
My stomach flipped. "Me? What for?"
"Come with me," he said, turning toward the Big House without answering. I followed, my heart racing. I hadn't expected this—nobody ever expected to be summoned by the Oracle.
The air inside the Big House felt colder than usual, and it was unnaturally quiet. The familiar faces of other campers seemed distant as I entered the dimly lit room where the Oracle sat, her eyes glowing with that eerie green light. She didn't acknowledge my presence at first, her gaze locked somewhere in the distance.
Finally, she spoke, her voice hollow and echoing:
"The son of dreams, his trial near,
Where children lost shed silent tears.
Their hearts cry out, forgotten long,
In shadows deep, where they belong.
A journey calls beyond the sky,
Where echoes wait, and spirits lie.
Old wounds will heal, but not in light—
In quiet realms, beyond our sight."
My heart sank as her words wrapped around me, cryptic and unsettling. The Oracle's prophecies were never straightforward, but one thing was clear—I was about to be sent on a quest, and I had no idea what it would entail.
Chiron placed a hand on my shoulder. "You've been chosen, Mykel."
I tried to make sense of the Oracle's words. "Where am I supposed to go? What's the 'place where forgotten children dwell'?"
"The Big House," Chiron said softly, his gaze steady. "It's not just a home for campers. For years, it's been a sanctuary for demigods who come from less recognized parentage—those whose godly parents are minor deities or spirits. These children often feel overlooked by the major gods, and their struggles go unnoticed. The Oracle's words suggest that your path lies with them."
"Wait, so... my quest is to stay here?" I asked, confused. "I'm supposed to stay at the Big House with the kids of minor gods?"
Chiron nodded. "Yes. But it's not as simple as it sounds. Those who reside in the Big House have faced their own hardships, and your task is to help them in ways that go beyond physical challenges. Their lives are often filled with uncertainty and a lack of purpose. You need to guide them, to help them discover their own strengths—and perhaps, in doing so, find the key to unlocking your own."
I blinked, trying to wrap my head around it. "So, this is a… mental quest?"
"Of sorts," Chiron said with a small smile. "Your powers are tied to the mind, Mykel. Your struggles are internal, and so are the struggles of those who live here. It's not a quest of brute force or battle—it's a quest of understanding."
It wasn't what I expected at all. Most demigods were sent off on dangerous, high-stakes quests that involved monsters, traps, and all sorts of physical tests. But this? This was something else entirely.
As I settled into the Big House, the kids of the minor gods quickly introduced themselves, each bringing a unique spark to the atmosphere. Emilio Delgado sauntered in first, looking half-asleep but somehow full of life. "Hey, Myke, wanna join us for a nap? I promise it'll be the best part of your day," he joked, his lazy grin revealing a relaxed charm. I soon learned that he was the son of Hypnos, blessed with the ability to send people into dreamland with just a glance. While he seemed perpetually tired, there was an ease about him that reminded me not to take everything too seriously.
Then there was Aisha Njeri, the daughter of Tyche, whose sharp tongue and quick wit added a vibrant edge to our introductions. "So you're the son of Morpheus, huh? Don't worry; you'll fit right in with the rest of us 'forgotten' kids," she said, crossing her arms with a smirk. Yet beneath her tough exterior, I sensed her struggle with her own fortune and how it sometimes felt more like a burden than a blessing.
Kai Yoshida, the non-binary child of Iris, burst in next, their colorful clothes reflecting their colorful personality. "Welcome to the party!" they exclaimed, their energy infectious. "I can make your dreams a rainbow, Mykel. Well, in a way," they added, chuckling at their own joke. Kai had a knack for manipulating light and color, and it was evident they were eager to show me the beauty in everyday life.
Finally, Damon Kirke, the quiet son of Pan, stepped forward with a shy smile. "It's nice to meet you. I think you'll find that nature has its own way of making us feel at home," he said softly, his green eyes filled with understanding. I quickly learned that he had the ability to connect with the wild and had a deep respect for all living things, though he often felt the absence of his father, who had become a legend of the past.
As we chatted, we made our way to the campfire, where the warmth of the flames flickered against the gathering twilight. The soft glow reminded me of Hestia, the virgin goddess of the hearth, who was often symbolized by the eternal flame at the center of our camp. Though she couldn't have children of her own, she was always there in spirit, nurturing and protecting the camp. Her presence seemed to wrap around us, filling the space with a comforting energy.
"Isn't it amazing how she keeps the flame alive?" Aisha mused, glancing at the fire. "It's like she's reminding us that home is where the heart is, even if we don't fit the typical mold."
I nodded, feeling a sense of belonging I hadn't expected. Together, we formed an unexpected but welcoming family, reminding me that being a demigod wasn't just about battling monsters or claiming glory. It was also about connection, community, and learning to embrace the strengths—and weaknesses—that came from our heritage.
One evening, as I sat outside the Big House, watching the stars, I felt something shift inside me. It wasn't a dramatic breakthrough, but a subtle change—like the first crack in a wall that had held me back for so long. I had spent weeks trying to break through the block in my powers, but it wasn't about force. It was about acceptance, patience, and growth.
The quest wasn't what I had expected, but in helping these kids—these forgotten children of minor gods—I had begun to heal something inside myself, too. Maybe I wasn't destined to be a hero in the way Percy was, with his grand battles and epic quests. Maybe my path was different, quieter, but no less important.
And maybe that was okay.