The Lost Twins of Apollo- Chapter 1

The forest was dark, but familiar. And although her tread was heavy with weariness, she picked her way without a hint of hesitation, tracing the edge of the creek as she had done countless times in her youth. The darkness didn’t matter. The hoots and growls and whispers of the forest’s occupants hardly mattered either. Probably satyrs…or dryads, she thought. Or… some random monsters that hadn’t been flushed out in the latest game of capture the flag. She stiffened uncomfortably at that last brainstorm. But it wasn’t from fear or worry, as her bow skills wouldn’t fail her here, it was from the paralyzing grip of nostalgia. Camp memories had suddenly come unbidden to the forefront of her mind. There commenced a brief silent struggle, before she finally managed to beat the images aside and resume her determined pace. There was no thinking about the past now, not when she was so close to the end of this leg of her journey, not before she got….home.

Home. The word sent more shockwaves through her body than just walking in this forest did. She had not allowed herself to think of this place, or any place as home in several years. That was probably because in Elise Moreau’s world, home had never really been a place at all. Her home had always been a person. Her home had been Adam, with his fair hair and eyes like rich, golden honey. She remembered him now, here in what had possibly been their favorite place on Earth, more vividly than time should’ve allowed. Adam, with his long lashes and handsome, confident features. His tall, graceful frame and…and the loose constellation of freckles that dominated his back and shoulders. His laugh…musical and strong…no…no that was enough of that.

She hadn’t realized it, but she’d stopped on a rise past the creek, breathing hard, her hand gripping tightly to the trunk of the nearest tree. Elise hastily withdrew it, something inside her still mindful of its potential as a dryad’s home, and found she was trembling badly. That wasn’t too surprising though. The last of her food had run out the evening before and she’d taken a decent gash from the claw of a dracaena during her mid-day rest. The wound it had left on her shoulder had been throbbing insistently for hours. But that couldn’t be helped. She was maxed out on tolerance as far as nectar and ambrosia were concerned. Anymore of it (all she had left was a swallow and half a cube anyway) and she’d put herself in the coma to death range for certain. So, pain tolerance and keeping the wound clean and dry until she arrived at Camp had been the order of the day.

Stopping frequently to re-wrap it with her never-ending roll of gauze, sip purified stream water from her bottle and eat a couple handfuls of berries here and there had slowed her pace considerably, even with her expert navigational skills. Ideally, she would’ve liked to have made it into the main part of camp before nightfall. Of course that would’ve drawn more attention than she’d liked, literally stumbling into the old dining pavilion during dinner, but at least it would’ve gotten things moving sooner. Elise was on the clock. She had to see Chiron and secure the reinforcements she was looking for as soon as possible. Because in a fortnight her quest would be over, one way or another. She would have either succeeded in reversing some of the nightmares of the past (well, not fully of course), or have died trying.

Yes, even Elise could tell how heavy that ultimatum sounded in her head. But she had already come to terms with the possibility, no correction…the almost sheer inevitability, of her death this time. In fact, she was currently living bonus time already. Her last mission had taken her so far from everything she had ever known that she was certain everyone from the past thought her long dead and gone.

That was why it was vital that she see Chiron of all people (or centaurs). He had been her teacher. Surely, he would remember her…remember the details of the events she had suppressed. Chiron would help her puzzle out the goddess’s request…how to reopen the vault…how to rescue…how-. She cut herself short with a shaky sigh.

‘You sound like a damned hysteric Lise’, she chided herself.

But this time she knew it wasn’t just her thoughts that were racing, or nostalgia that was making her head swim. Even after resting against the tree, Elise could barely gather up the strength to pick up her boots and descend into the valley below, where the lights of the porch of the Big House were just visible. The 17-year-old brushed the sweaty, grimy strands of brown hair that had escaped from her ponytail aside and stuck her fingers expertly to the side of her neck, right under the collar of her leather shirt. Her pulse was thready and weak, as she’d expected.

She’d spent her last real strength dispatching a small Maeonian drakon just inside the forest borders. The beast had burned holes the size of her head in a group of nearby blackberry bushes with its venom before going down under the precision shooting of four celestial bronze tipped arrows and a dagger in its mouth. Well, Elise was being uncharacteristically generous with herself there. Three of the arrows had been well placed. The fourth, the first one shot, had sailed on her horribly. She had failed to account for how much her earlier injury was affecting her aim. She shuddered and thanked the gods that it hadn’t been a young Lydian drakon instead. The monster’s stare alone may have been enough to kill her then.

Elise sighed again, a bit more evenly this time. Could she make it to the Big House now? On her feet, knocking smartly on the red painted door, just like any casual ghost dropping in after nearly 20 years for a bite to eat and a few measly bits of information….that was sort of what she was now aiming for here. Hey, it was good to have goals. First thing though, was gaining her feet again. While thinking about her run-in with the drakon she’d slipped down against the base of the tree, eyes roving aimlessly over the fields before her. Normally alert for anything that could sneak up on her, Elise had simply let herself go lax. Here, at the edge of the forest, she didn’t think the odds of being attacked again were quite that high. Besides, she’d always had an innate sense of hunting: both the hunting and being hunted parts. She squinted in the gloom, making as much use as possible out of the slim quarter moon and the few illuminated porch lights on some of the cabins.

Wait…one…two…twelve….fifteen…just how many cabins were there? And what was with the dark solid-looking black one, where the torches near door were burning Greek fire? Had Hades raised a coup while she was away? He didn’t even have any children! She had to be hallucinating. And if she was hallucinating already, after what she’d diagnosed as only moderate exhaustion and blood loss, she was certainly losing her touch. She looked at the Big House again, almost to make sure it was even there. What with it being so easy to gain the borders tonight, this could’ve been a ghost camp for all she knew. But no, it was there, as inviting as ever. The same open porch with the attic at the top, same red…no sorry…someone must’ve redecorated…blue paint on the walls.

Suddenly something wheeled through the sky around the Big House, in and out of the light in a moment’s time. But Elise’s trained eyes had seen it clear as day. A cleaning harpy, or as her and Adam and the others had grudgingly referred to them in her day, curfew harpies. Whew…at least some things didn’t change.

Her favorite harpy to get into it with had been Aello. That bitter old bag had never been satisfied with her deliberate pace while rinsing dishes in lava after dinnertime when she was in trouble. She’d always fly off to tell Chiron that Elise deserved another evening’s washing duty for slacking off. Only problem had been, whenever Aello had finally shown up again (with Chiron in tow), Elise would be standing next to all the clean, sparkling piles of finished dishes and cutlery with a serene smile on her face.

At that point, Aello had always started screeching and Chiron would just send her off with a knowing wink, before he tried to beseech the harpy to maybe give her a different chore to complete next time. She’d only get maybe three steps out the door, laughing to herself, before Morgana, X and Adam would be all over her (laughing too). Then, after a good chuckle, they’d spirit her away for a walk or a quick riding session until campfire. Back in the present, the smile quickly died on her lips and she fought back tears. No, no she couldn’t afford to indulge in either, not the old joys or the grief. Not when there was still a chance their work hadn’t truly been the ultimate failure.

It was time. She rose gingerly to her feet and shivered. Even though it was still fall and Camp was weather-controlled, her worn travelling clothes didn’t offer the best protection from the elements. Her wound, hours since its last bandaging, was finally seeping blood through her light jacket. It needed looking after…and not out here. She gave a reassuring pat to the bow holstered on her back and the pack slung across her shoulder before finally descending out of the tree line and toward her first human contact in days.

Elise skirted the sword-fighting arena to her right, allowing its shadows to shield her from the keen eyes of the curfew harpies. With any luck, she could get all the way inside the ring of cabins without them noticing her. She was already exhausted again, but this time she allowed herself to be immersed in the past. As she snuck across the camp’s grounds, there was no past or present. This was just a girl who had stayed out all night in the woods who was getting back to her cabin before she got caught.

And as she drew closer, her old cabin seemed to draw her in. Light spilled out of the red and gold curtains of the Apollo cabin, and although she knew it wasn’t glowing with its usual daytime splendor, just being near it still filled her with an odd sort of pride. Through the windows she could see a full host of lounging campers, just like in the old days, many of them either writing in notebooks or journals, playing various musical instruments or taking stock of various medical supplies.

She knew her true business was in the Big House. She knew there was no way she would be sleeping in this cabin tonight. In fact, she probably wouldn’t even step foot inside it ever again. But still… she couldn’t help stopping and leaning against their porch railing, staring into what seemed like a window into a lost world. It was this odd feeling of déjà vu that seemed destined to be her constant companion tonight and Elise also feared her entire visit here would be probably be marred by it as well.

“Can I help you miss?” questioned a clear, casual voice from nearby.

Elise wheeled around, her bow already in hand. She was surprised to see a tall, strapping brown-haired boy in an orange camp shirt staring her down from just inside the circle of light provided by the cabin. His own metal compound bow was nocked with a heavy blunt-tipped arrow and pointed directly at her. The two archers held their positions for about 30 pensive seconds before Elise’s hands began to shake, causing her to lower her weapon and lean back on the railing in disgust. Way to hold your own girl, she thought in annoyance.

The boy immediately frowned and stepped forward, lowering his own bow in the process. He ate up the distance between them in two long strides, only stopping when he was maybe two feet away. Elise quickly noticed how his deep blue eyes seemed to radiate their own personal fire, drawing you in deeper and deeper…

Suddenly, she felt a weight on her arm. “Don’t touch me!” she hissed defensively, edging further down the railing and out of his grasp. She looked at him reproachfully as she now cradled her blood-stained arm to her chest.

“But…but you’re injured,” he said, his brow knit with genuine concern, “I need to take care of it for you.” He made another attempt to make contact, but she pushed off the railing and away from him, dropping her bow and pack in the process.

Need. He said he needed to take care of it for me. He was a typical Apollo alright. The same compulsion to tend to others wounds, whether physical or otherwise, ran through her veins as well. Out in the real world though, she wouldn’t have survived this long if she hadn’t learned to suppress that particular genetic trait.

“You don’t need to do anything. You don’t even know me. In fact, two minutes ago you were deciding whether or not you needed to shoot me. I’m just an intruder with a scratch on her arm for all it should matter to you…so I’ll just be leaving…”

She’d meant to just pick up her things and storm off; galvanized by the spike of adrenaline this whole embarrassing incident had given her…until he stopped her. A hand circled around her wrist as she stooped down to grab her pack. Elise froze to the spot.

“I’m Ezra,” he said calmly. He swiftly grabbed the pack and backed her against the railing again in one fluid motion. “And your shoulder,” he continued in a rather matter-of-fact tone, “Is not just scratched.” His long fingers probed gently over the matted, ruined part of her shirt, assessing the sodden bandage and the wound underneath with practiced care.

Elise felt like those laser-sharp blue eyes were literally x-raying her arm. She fought several urges to either cry out in pain or struggle away again. This Ezra was obviously a determined fellow and…well, it wasn’t like she didn’t actually need help. In all honesty, she’d forgotten how stubborn and head-strong she could really be. Ezra humphed abruptly and then started to eyeball-scan her whole person up and down. She had no doubt he would soon find plenty of damage to comment upon. Sure enough, after a couple more uncomfortable minutes of being stared at, the intensity in the boy’s gaze dropped, Elise swore she could almost feel the energy release, and he cleared his throat.

“Well, the laceration is 5 inches long and penetrates into your deep tissue. You have decreased use of your biceps brachialis muscle, probably due to both exhaustion and trauma in the area and this is why you can barely lift your weapon,” Ezra reported knowledgably. Elise started with noises of indignation, but he cut her off to continue his diagnosis. One must never get between an Apollo child and their diagnosis. “You’ve also been malnourished for several days, probably abstaining almost completely for nearly 24 hrs, based on your inability to concentrate, stand steady and well, the lightness of this pack. The large bruise on your cheek is two days old based on the coloration in the area and uh, this isn’t medical but…quite frankly you look like crap.” He had finally let her go and backed up a of couple feet, settling with his torso against the vertical post at the porch’s entrance and his head cocked thoughtfully in her direction.

Elise gave a loud, tired sigh. “I knew all of that… more or less,” she said with more patience then she could’ve hoped for. The teen couldn’t even tell when this whole evening had turned quite so dramatically. She could’ve been knee deep in camp records and Greek history books with Chiron by now. She could’ve taken a hot shower and dressed her own wound by now. And yet here she was, having a verbal sparring match with a long-lost family member.

“Of course you did, but I just thought I’d remind you what you’re ignoring,” agreed Ezra coolly, “You know, before you pass out on our porch.”

“Our?” spat Elise, finally fed up, “Don’t claim me doctor boy. You haven’t got a damn idea where I belong in this place, alright?”

“Oh sure, alright then, be that way Little Miss Wilderness. Stand there, which you’re hardly managing by the way, and tell me again that you’re not one of us. Tell me you’re not Her.”

Elise swallowed her fury and gaped at him. “I’m sorry?” she asked suspiciously, “I’m not anybody.”

“Huh,” snorted Ezra derisively, “That sounds like the theme of a bad poem. I’m not anybody and no one is me.”

Elise literally growled in frustration. This guy was a right pain in the ass. “Says the guy named Ezra,” she snarked, “What’s the deal there? Your mother was just trying to kiss Lord Apollo’s ass or were you actually conceived at a controversial poetry conference?”

An actual blush finally crept into the cocky youth’s cheeks and he ruffled his hair in agitation. “Let’s leave my mother out of this,” he said firmly. Then he took a deep breath and switched topics. “So what’s your deal Wilderness Princess? Some identity crisis preventing you from just calling him Dad or were you like formally disowned?”

Suddenly, even though he’d only mimicked Elise’s own tone and was partly asking out of curiosity, Ezra realized he’d crossed the line. The girl’s whole demeanor had changed, going from cagey wild animal to downright broken and shut-off.

“Screw you,” she muttered tiredly, “Like I said…you don’t know me.” She cast her eyes to the grass and scuffed it moodily with her boot. The golden aura of the cabin was now giving her a headache.

Ezra winced. This was a soul in pain and he could truly feel waves of it now rolling over him. He coughed awkwardly. It was very un-Apollo to not know what to say next. Allowing himself to get drawn into such pettiness in the first place had been more of an Ares sort of reaction. “I’m sorry,” he interjected sincerely, “You’re right, I don’t know you. But…I can tell that I’d like to. And not because I happen to know that you’re an important and powerful person. We’ve actually been waiting for you. We Apollonians… that is.”

Elise shrugged. She was much too stung by memories to be angry or surprised by this kid. She hadn’t been disowned by Apollo…but the real story wasn’t much different. “Look Ezra, for the record, you’ve really got a nice name after all, and you seem like an alright guy…but you’re prophecy, future-sight radar is pretty off right now. I’m… (She shook her head to try and clear it)…I’m just a girl…a young women actually…long story…but anyways… (She was struggling now to think past her own dizziness) I’m really nothing here. My time at this camp is a distant memory and not always a pretty one at that. I’m just here to see Chiron…Chiron and reinforcements and I’ll be on my way.” As she finished she felt her knees buckle, causing her to slip away from the rail and tumble forward onto the grass. She’d pass out soon… she’d pass out on the cold unforgiving ground because of Ezra and her own stupid inability to look out for herself instead of picking a battle she couldn’t win.

He knelt beside her and a surge of energy coursed through her veins. She dimly recognized his temporary healing hymn and knew it’d give her like a few minutes at the most before she’d be out again. Her deep green eyes snapped open. Her arm seemed to bleeding less. He pushed a lock of hair away from her face and held onto her uninjured arm so that they could still maintain an eye level. Elise spared a thought to how weird this must look to any campers who might still be awake and looking out their windows. She was also very surprised that none of the Apollo’s had come looking for their brother by now. They had to have been arguing for at least half an hour.

“Shh….that’s enough fighting for one day Wilderness Princess. I’ll take care of it from here,” Ezra reassured her, “You are important though. You’re one of the lost twins returned. Father’s first request after being restored to the Olympic council was for you to be freed, for you to get this quest. He’s told us he believes in you and wants you to be his again. He wants you to save your brother.”

A shiver passed through Elise at those words. Father believed in her. It had been so long since those days. In fact, she had not even known her father was behind her revival. She had not known that other Apollo kids had actually heard of her story. But most importantly, Ezra’s speech was a reminder of Adam. She wanted to struggle off of her knees and claw her way to his side this very moment…but it wasn’t happening. The most she could do was make sure this Ezra knew where to put her right now.

“Ok...” she murmured, “Ok…yes, I’m the lost twin. But you can’t bring me back into this cabin…promise me Ezra…alright? (He looked puzzled, but nodded) I can’t be in there without…without him. And another thing? My name is Elise Moreau…not Wilderness Princess.”

He chuckled. “Very well Elise Moreau. You might have led with that by the way, because now I quite like calling you Wilderness Princess. Anyway, I, Ezra Cowen, head counselor of Cabin 7, solemnly promise to take your wishes to heart. But, where can I put you down and patch you up? I’d have mentioned this earlier, but Chiron’s away on business tonight and Mr. D’s in quite a mood, so the Big House is not where you want to be.”

Elise leaned in and whispered in his ear. Ezra’s blue eyes went as wide as saucers. “Really? I’m sure that’s quite a story. Well I wasn’t too far off with the nickname then was I?” he joked quietly. She gave him a wan smile and managed to gain her feet with her good arm around his neck, taking most of the weight. He propped her against the railing as he holstered his weapon and walked out of the light. There were two muffled thuds and then he returned, vaulting onto the porch and leaving two large duffels next to the door. “Was in the weapons cellar before I found ya’…special projects stuff…” he explained as he bustled around, now gathering her weapon and other effects. Elise barely registered his words.

She was fading fast by the time he returned to her side, but managed to mumble, “Just say the password like I told you and you’ll be allowed in…and if you have to carry me…” Elise didn’t get any further before her eyelids finally fluttered shut for good.

“If I have to carry you,” finished Ezra, hoisting her light frame effortlessly into the cradle of his arms, “I won’t tell you.” He held her under the porch light for a moment, memorizing her features, before setting off across the green. She looked younger and more innocent in dreams. People always did. He took her pulse. After all she’d been through, the fact that it was still thrumming meant she was strong. Ezra grinned crookedly and crooned a soft hymn to their father, stopping the bleeding for good and deepening her sleep. He’d hook her up to a regular mortal IV drip in the cabin. She needed nutrition the old-fashioned way tonight and when she was awake and stronger they’d go back to the nectar and ambrosia.

In no time, the teen stood in front of the cabin directly across from Apollo’s, its silver glow a fascinating reflection of the moon’s rays. Ezra couldn’t remember a time he’d been this close to it, if ever. Most of the campers held Cabin 8 with the same amount of polite deference as they did Hera’s cabin or any or the others that didn’t have occupants. The Hunters of Artemis had visited once in his time here at Camp Half-Blood, winning Capture the Flag with practiced ease, and during those nights the silver glow had been emitted tenfold. That had intimidated his 13-year-old self to no end.

Ezra also knew Lady Artemis didn’t like men and he was justifiably nervous at the moment about stepping into her territory. Please, please, he thought as he hesitantly stepped onto the porch, please let me take care of her here. She is your adopted daughter…she is a Huntress…and I am only here for her. When no silver arrows suddenly sprouted from between his shoulder blades or any virgin goddesses appeared to turn him into a small furry piece of game, the 17-year-old demigod sighed in relief. He took Elise’s limp but warm hand and pressed it to the silver door. Ancient Greek ruins appeared as if etched in the silver and in the center protruded the mouth piece of a silver banded hunting horn. He spoke into the horn the words Elise had told him and door swung inward. Ezra squared his shoulders and became the first male to step into Artemis’s cabin in nearly a century.