The camp was asleep, the usual hum of activity replaced by the steady rhythm of the forest: the rustle of leaves, the chirp of crickets, the occasional howl of a distant wolf. Ikenna lay in his bunk in the Zeus cabin, staring at the ceiling. The words of the Oracle kept replaying in his mind, each line unraveling a new thread of anxiety.
"Son of the Storm, your path is unclear, A choice awaits: to lead or to fear."
He turned the words over and over. The part about "leading or fearing" didn't sit right with him. He'd never asked to lead anyone—he barely knew how to lead himself. And yet, the way Chiron had looked at him, the way the campers whispered about him—it was clear they expected something big from him. Too big.
His chest tightened as the next part of the prophecy came back to him.
"The storm shall rise, the earth shall quake, The fate of gods and men at stake."
Was this storm something he was meant to control, or something he was meant to stop? And "the earth shall quake"—what did that even mean? He groaned, running a hand over his face. Maybe he should just focus on the here and now, like Marcus always said. But even that wasn't comforting. The Oracle's final words refused to leave his thoughts.
"Beware the shadows, the bonds you keep, For betrayal lies where trust runs deep."
Ikenna sat up, his heart pounding. Betrayal? By someone he trusted? He looked around the cabin, empty except for him. It was pristine, like no one had lived there in ages. The thought made his stomach churn. Zeus had a cabin built for his children, but where was his father now? Out there somewhere, dropping lightning bolts and causing chaos, too busy to care about the son he'd left behind.
Ikenna shoved the thoughts away and swung his legs over the side of the bed. There was no way he was sleeping tonight. Maybe a walk would help clear his head.
The camp was hauntingly beautiful at night. Moonlight bathed the grounds in a silvery glow, and the forest's shadows stretched long and dark across the paths. Ikenna found himself wandering toward the forge, where the Hephaestus kids kept their fires burning late into the night. The steady clinking of metal on metal echoed through the air as Marcus worked on a new project.
Marcus glanced up when Ikenna approached. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
Ikenna managed a weak laugh. "Might as well have."
"The prophecy, huh?" Marcus set down his hammer and wiped his hands on a rag. "Figured it'd mess with your head. It always does."
"Have you ever had one?" Ikenna asked, leaning against the doorway.
Marcus shook his head. "Nah, I'm not the prophecy type. Too boring. But I've seen what they do to people. Mess them up real good, especially if they're vague. The not-knowing gets to you."
"Yeah, well, this one's plenty vague," Ikenna muttered. "Betrayal, storms, earthquakes… It's like the Oracle's trying to give me a heart attack."
Marcus chuckled. "It's not about figuring it all out at once. Prophecies have a way of… working themselves out. Just focus on what's in front of you."
Ikenna nodded, though Marcus's advice didn't make him feel any better. "You're always so calm. How do you do it?"
Marcus shrugged. "Years of working with fire. You learn to respect it without letting it scare you. Maybe you need to think of your powers the same way."
Ikenna frowned. He wasn't scared of his powers—at least, not exactly. But he couldn't deny that they felt… volatile. Unpredictable. Like they had a mind of their own. The thought made him shiver.
"Anyway," Marcus said, clapping him on the shoulder, "you'll figure it out. You've got that Zeus confidence, right?"
Ikenna snorted. "Not sure I'd call it confidence."
Marcus grinned. "Fake it till you make it, then."
The next morning, Ikenna barely touched his breakfast. The camp was buzzing with its usual energy, but he felt disconnected, like he was watching everything from a distance. Percy noticed and slid onto the bench next to him.
"You good?" Percy asked, his tone casual but laced with concern.
"Yeah," Ikenna lied. "Just didn't sleep much."
Percy raised an eyebrow but didn't push. "I get it. First prophecy?"
Ikenna nodded, poking at his plate. "How do you deal with it?"
Percy leaned back, a thoughtful look on his face. "You don't. Not really. You just… keep going. Take it one step at a time. And when it feels like too much, you lean on your friends."
Ikenna glanced around the pavilion. He'd made friends since arriving at Camp Half-Blood, but could he really trust them? The prophecy's warning about betrayal gnawed at him.
"Easier said than done," he muttered.
Percy clapped him on the back. "Welcome to demigod life."
Later that day, Chiron called Ikenna to the Big House for a private meeting. When he arrived, Maria was already there, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.
"What's going on?" Ikenna asked, glancing between her and Chiron.
Chiron's expression was grave. "We need to talk about your prophecy. Maria will be joining you on your first quest."
"Quest?" Ikenna's heart sank. "What quest?"
Chiron handed him a scroll. "An artifact has been stolen from Olympus. A storm talisman, said to be linked to Zeus himself. We believe it's tied to the events mentioned in your prophecy. You and Maria must retrieve it before it falls into the wrong hands."
Ikenna unrolled the scroll, scanning the details. The talisman was last seen in the Midwest, its exact location shrouded in mystery.
Maria stepped forward. "We leave at dawn. Pack light." Her tone was curt, almost cold.
Ikenna frowned. "Wait, why her?"
Maria smirked. "Because I'm the only one here who can keep you in line."
Chiron sighed. "This isn't a punishment, Ikenna. Maria has experience with quests, and her skills will complement yours. You'll need to work together."
Ikenna bit back a retort, but the tension between him and Maria was palpable. He could already tell this was going to be a long journey. As he left the Big House, the weight of the prophecy pressed heavier on his shoulders. He couldn't shake the feeling that this quest would test more than just his abilities—it would test the very bonds he was starting to form. And if the prophecy was right, one of those bonds could shatter when he least expected it.