The camp was alive with excitement after the Capture the Flag game. Campers crowded around the pavilion for dinner, recounting the day's highlights in boisterous voices. The blue team was basking in their victory, and Ikenna found himself at the center of the celebration. Despite the cheers and pats on the back, a part of him felt unsettled—Maria's skill during their fight still lingered in his mind.
As the evening wore on, Chiron called for the campers to quiet down. He stood at the front of the pavilion, his centaur form silhouetted against the fading light of the evening.
"Excellent work today, all of you," Chiron began, his voice steady and commanding. "Capture the Flag is more than a game; it is a test of character, wit, and courage. You should all be proud."
The campers cheered, but Chiron raised a hand, silencing the crowd. "However, I must remind you all that victory in the games does not lessen the challenges beyond these camp borders. Darkness stirs in the world of mortals and gods alike. Be vigilant."
The air grew heavy as Chiron's words sank in. Ikenna noticed glances being exchanged between older campers, their expressions grim. He leaned toward Marcus, whispering, "What's he talking about?"
Marcus frowned but didn't take his eyes off Chiron. "Prophecy stuff. There's always something brewing. You'll get used to it."
Chiron's gaze swept across the campers before settling briefly on Ikenna. "And now," he continued, "Ikenna Anderson, son of Zeus, step forward."
The pavilion went silent. Ikenna froze, his pulse quickening. He wasn't sure what he'd done to deserve this kind of attention. Slowly, he stood and walked to the front, feeling the weight of every eye on him.
"Today, you showed remarkable potential," Chiron said, his tone warm but serious. "However, I must caution you—your power is both a gift and a burden. The blood of Zeus carries great responsibility."
Ikenna nodded, unsure of what to say. He felt a knot forming in his stomach, the pressure of expectation already weighing on him.
"One more thing," Chiron added. His voice dropped, almost to a whisper. "Your arrival here has not gone unnoticed. The Oracle has spoken."
A murmur rippled through the campers. Ikenna blinked in confusion. "The Oracle?"
Chiron gestured toward the Big House, its silhouette barely visible at the edge of the camp. "The Oracle of Delphi resides here, in the attic of the Big House. It is rare for her to speak, but when she does, her words carry great importance. Tonight, we shall consult her."
Ikenna swallowed hard. He'd heard stories of the Oracle—how her prophecies shaped quests and sealed fates. He wasn't sure he was ready to hear whatever she had to say.
Chiron turned to the campers. "The feast is over. Return to your cabins. Ikenna, follow me."
The pavilion emptied quickly, campers whispering as they glanced back at Ikenna. He caught Maria's eye as she passed by. She gave him a small nod, her smirk replaced by something that looked like... concern?
Marcus clapped Ikenna on the shoulder. "Good luck, man. Don't pass out or anything."
"Not helping," Ikenna muttered, forcing a nervous smile.
Chiron led Ikenna to the Big House, the camp growing eerily quiet as they walked. The air seemed to buzz with anticipation, and the shadows of the trees stretched long across the ground.
Inside, the Big House smelled of old wood and parchment. Chiron guided Ikenna up the creaky staircase to the attic. The air grew colder as they climbed, and Ikenna's nerves were nearly at their breaking point.
At the top of the stairs, Chiron stopped. "Go on," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "She will speak to you alone."
Ikenna hesitated, then nodded. Pushing the door open, he stepped into the attic.
The room was dimly lit, filled with dusty artifacts and old war relics. At the center sat the Oracle, her mummified form draped in faded green robes. Ikenna's breath caught in his throat as a faint glow surrounded her, and the air seemed to hum with energy.
Before he could speak, the Oracle's eyes glowed a vivid green, and a voice—ancient and otherworldly—filled the room:
"Son of the Storm, your path is unclear,
A choice awaits: to lead or to fear.
The storm shall rise, the earth shall quake,
The fate of gods and men at stake.
Beware the shadows, the bonds you keep,
For betrayal lies where trust runs deep."
The glow faded, and the room fell silent once more. Ikenna stood frozen, the words replaying in his mind.
Chiron's voice called from outside the door. "Ikenna? Are you alright?"
He stumbled out of the attic, his heart racing. "I... I think so," he managed, his voice shaky.
Chiron studied him carefully. "The words of the Oracle can be unsettling. Take time to reflect on them. We will speak more in the morning."
As Ikenna returned to his cabin that night, the prophecy echoed in his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that his life had just become a lot more complicated—and a lot more dangerous.