what fools these mortals be

[Rose Vaughn-Alsworthy]

She was all alone in the woods. Or at least, even the giant spiders were avoiding running into her. After all, the last time she had been in the woods, she had shot one of their kind. The arrow had been soaked in a sleeping potion, which was concocted by Emilie, her best friend and a daughter of Hypnos. When the spider fell to the floor, Rose was faster than a hungry vulture. With her athame, she cut off the spider's pincers and put it in a potion she was making. The spider's blood and pincers darkened the potion in her cauldron, filling the woods with a salty, rusty smell that would've made normal people throw up. Rose, however, was far from normal. In fact, the whole process thrilled her, sending jolts of energy down her spine. Not bothering to heal the spider, she stood up and left with her new vial of potion and cauldron. It would've been a small mercy to kill the spider in order to save it from the misery of waking up without pincers, but the thought only made Rose laugh, and so she walked out of the woods without looking back.

Back in the woods, she half-expected a family of giant spiders to have their revenge. It wasn't the first time she had hurt a spider without killing it, and Rose was certain that it wouldn't be the last as well. Until she managed to get her hands on empousae blood, all she could do was to experiment with the lower creatures found in the woods, and the spiders were the easiest to lure and maim for her enjoyment. Her cupboard at the Hecate cabin was filled with products of her various experiments, most of them involving a spider body part. The trees would have made good experimentation material if it were not for the nymphs and satyrs inhabiting them, and as much as she wanted to hurt some of them, it wouldn't do to have them report to the Mayor that she was hurting nature spirits. Especially not when she had her status and reputation to maintain.

This time, her arrows weren't soaked in potions, though she had brought a standard camp sword along in case she needed to defend herself. It was one of those rare times when Rose had no need for various creature body parts. Instead, what she needed was the solitude and space the woods offered, which she barely got in camp ever since she was promoted to syntagatarkhis. Not that she was complaining about the promotion. It was a well-earned and well-deserved one, if she could say so herself. And yet there were days when her duties made her want to wring some campers' necks, and the only thing that calmed her down was being surrounded by trees and their shadows. Walking around the woods at night would've been preferable, but Rose couldn't wait any longer. She needed her space now. To Tartarus with her bloody inferiors—she was tired, so tired of humanity and their idiocy, and sometimes she wondered if the gods felt the same way about their demigod children.

There must be a reason, after all, behind their decision to live far away from their demigods. It was easier to get a camel through the eye of a needle than to get access to Mount Olympus, and even then, it wasn't likely that Hecate would give her a warm welcome. If anything, the warmest welcome she'd probably be able to muster is to set Rose on fire for daring to seek out her mother.

It wasn't like Rose needed her mother's attention, anyway. No, that wasn't it. All these years, she had done very well without her mother guiding her. It had always been just her and Nightshade, her athame. Sometimes, there was Emilie too, but Emilie was often as useful as a knife for drinking soup. She had grown all these years on her own, never seeking anyone's help, never kneeling down to anyone unless they were gods. Even then, Rose had to fight back a desire to spit on the gods' feet, forcing a smile on her face instead as she looked up at them and pretended to worship and be amazed. What Rose had learned early on was that, when you wanted something, you had to be very careful about the way you acquire it. And while it would be so easy to just get empousae blood and make the elixir of immortality, it wasn't just eternal life and youth that Rose sought. She was destined for so much more than that.

Rose eventually found a good spot by the Zephyros Creek, where she was sure the creatures in the woods wouldn't disturb her. They generally avoided the area, as it was where demigods usually chose to hang out (and maybe sulk if they had not outgrown their young emo teenage years). The only thing she needed to worry about was if another demigod was in the area, but she'd deal with that later. Only a fool of the most pathetic level would dare to cross a syntagatarkhis, and if they didn't know her, Rose would make sure that they did.

[Alexander Orion]

Whip.



His arrow planted itself into the tree with a shattering noise.



Whip.



The second hit only a few inches above the first, rattling like a accidentally knocked cup on a wood table.



Whip.



The third imbedded itself just to the right of the first.



Whip, CRACK.



The first arrow split in two as the fourth arrow struck it right down the middle.



Alexander allowed himself to breathe again. This was his form of endurance training. Hold your breath until you hit the exact spot the first arrow landed. It wasn’t working very well anymore as his archery skills became super honed. Allowing for no more then maybe thirty seconds of holding his breath. The son of Eros wasn’t even winded this time. He would have to find a new exercise that allowed him to actually get something done. He dropped into his fourth pushup rep of the day. Twenty then a sprint.



When his sprint was done he put his bow over his shoulder and started the long trek back to Camp Halfblood. It wasn’t home anymore. It hadn’t been for some time. His heart was elsewhere trying to find what he had lost. It wasn’t something to be found however. You can’t find a dead mother. You can’t find an absentee godly father. You can’t find a dead satyr, nor a long lost love. You can’t find what you're looking for if what you’re looking for can’t be found. That is what he told himself. The phrase he allowed himself to be controlled by these days.



The sun was getting low in the sky and Alexander contemplated staying out until dark, allowing the monsters and beasts to find their way to him so he can finally test his skills. The prospect held many positive attributes. However, he could die. Alone and in the woods like a fool. It almost would have suited the son of Eros to go out like that but the ideal death in a blaze of glory still kept him in an eternal state of unwillingness to actually let go of this life.



In truth, Alexander needed a friend. Someone to warm him up and keep him close even when the times are bad. But all he could seem to find are girls to warm his bed for a night. Even that wasn’t hot enough to defrost his frozen heart. No matter how many girls he slept with nothing filled up the void that she had left.



He heard it then, the ever so faint sound of demigod footsteps. The hunter in him heard it even though it was just as slight noise. It must have still been fifty or so feet away. Alexander trudged towards it. He felt a sense of obligation to protect those lost in the woods because he had been that person not to long ago. Even though it may have been just a demigod looking to sulk like he was, they could be lost, especially this deep into this forest.



The son of Eros came across the demigod near the creek. She looked safe and like she knew what she was doing. Certainly a lot of conviction. Alexander nearly turned away. He should have. He should have let her be but something about her, and all women to be frank, put a sense of curiosity into him. He wanted to know more, and once Alexander wanted something, its very hard to get him to change his mind. She was elegant and powerful in the way she moved. An aura of authority surrounded her. “Commanding officer.” He murmured to himself. The demigod wasn’t one for the ‘chain of command.’ He considered it a nuisance, a dam in the way of momentary battle decisions. The chain of command cost lives. He knew it did. He’d read all about it when he was learning to read a few years ago.



He realized then he was staring. Not really at her, but more in her general direction in a dazed fashion. Alexander snapped out of it and started towards her. “Let me know if you want to be alone, love.” He regretted saying love almost immediately. Never good to talk to a commanding officer in a way that could be perceived as dismissive. “I thought I was alone out here and could use some company. Only if you are game.”

[Rose Vaughn-Alsworthy]

The sound of footsteps nearby immediately made Rose stand still and look around, and her gaze soon landed on a man about her age. He wasn't from the First Platoon, otherwise Rose would have recognised him. And he had quite the gall to call her 'love', too, which meant that he didn't know her. If he did, then he was one of those boys who couldn't seem to stop seeking trouble. Before she became a Syntagatarkhis, Rose had to prove herself worthy of the position by showing immunity to the flowery words of hormonal young men. A commanding officer must never be prone to manipulation—she must be one who values rationality over sentimentality, and to be easily distracted by dalliances would only put her soldiers at risk. It was this immunity, then, that helped save her from the attractiveness of the man who had disturbed her peace. To most girls, he was probably charming in a wild and mysterious sort of way, but to Rose, he was just another pathetic boy who needed to learn his place in camp.

His casual way of calling her 'love', along with the bow he was holding, had Rose wondering if he was a son of either Apollo or Eros. Unlike most people who walked in the woods scared and paranoid, the man seemed to be at ease, as though he was merely having a stroll down the public park. Night would be falling soon, and a chilling breeze was weaving itself through the trees. Whoever the man's godly parent was, Rose supposed he was probably a ridiculously brave and foolish man to have produced such a child. Unless this man was a son of Hades or the ‘dark gods’ (which she highly doubted), the woods would soon be dangerous for him. And with her hand on her athame sheath, he must receive the warning that the monsters weren't the only dangerous beings in the forest.

Despite herself, Rose smirked. There was something about the man—unlike most people in Camp Half-Blood, his presence didn't completely infuriate her, though she did feel disrespected by the casual way he had addressed her. It wasn't like Rose could just easily abuse her power, though. The man hadn't broken the rules. Outside of training and field work, most of the Greek commanders didn't bother with formality, preferring to treat their fellow campers as equals. It was one of the huge differences they had with the Romans, and why life as a Greek demigod was generally believed to be 'nicer' than the Roman life. Punishing the other demigod, then, was out of the question, but Rose wasn't about to let him think he could talk to her like that. She held her head high as she coldly fixed her gaze on his brown eyes. 'Of course, love. After all, socialisation was exactly what I had in mind when I decided to head for the woods earlier.'

The mockery in her tone was subdued, but Rose was sure that her unblinking stare would send the message. Then there was the smirk, which was an invitation of sorts. If he was clever enough, he would know the deeper meaning to her actions: that while she was displeased with his usage of the term of endearment, she didn't mind the company. Or at least, she didn't mind having someone to possibly banter with for awhile. If she were to have company in this place, it might as well be a man who wasn't afraid of the woods in the dark. It didn't make him the wisest of all companions, but at the very least he wasn't a bloody snivelling wuss. Without making a move to step closer to the stranger, she drawled, 'Do you normally seek company in the woods?' Though her tone was bored, there was a glint of humour in her eyes, as if she could imagine just what sort of ‘social activities’ the man enjoyed in the woods.