SEVENTH Clarisse chapter. Yes. Orchive Af Aor Awn.
The weapon
‘This spear isn’t good enough,’ Clarisse sulked. ‘It doesn’t have the right weight.’
David, the Ares cabin head counsellor, looked at his sister. ‘It makes sense that it has the wrong weight. After all, you’ve grown since you got it.’
‘That’s not he only issue. It also isn’t powerful enough.’
David raised his eyebrows. ‘Isn’t powerful enough? It’s a spear like any other.’
‘Exactly! What child of the Ares, the war god, has a weapon like any other?’
David shrugged. ‘Well, there is nothing stopping you from going to the Hephaestus cabin or to the camp store to get a better weapon. But! You do that after training. Now throw that spear.’
Clarisse rolled her eyes, before throwing the spear into the bullseye. It hardly cost her any effort these days, but it did make her wonder what she would be able to do with a spear that fit her.
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‘And?’ David asked, when it was time for dinner.
Clarisse shrugged. ‘I didn’t find anything in the camp store or the Hephaestus cabin. I am not sure what I really want.’
David rolled his eyes. ‘Well, think of what you want, then. Make it clear in your head. Then you ask the Hephaestus kids. Quick now, eat before your brothers steal everything from your plate. You know what I say…’
‘Don’t come crying when someone takes your food,’ she finished his sentence.
David nodded, before taking his place at the table. He didn’t have to worry about someone taking his food. The other Ares campers thought twice before crossing their head counsellor.
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During the camp fire hour, Clarisse was thinking of what would be a good weapon. She stared into the flames.
Her spear should be able to scorch people, she thought. It should shock them, so that they would think twice before approaching her, just like they did with David.
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The next morning, she pushed some of her bacon and eggs into the firepit. ‘I wish for a good spear, one that can burn people,’ she mumbled. She heard someone snicker next to her. ‘Shut up, Mike,’ she snapped, before walking away.
‘Good luck with that, Clarisse,’ was the only answer she got back.
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A few days went by without hearing anything. Clarisse crept into her bunk. She started to think that Mike had been right. Good luck with getting a god to give you something you were whining about.
Just before she drifted up to sleep, she heard a booming voice: ‘Come outside. Go to the arena.’ She shot upright and almost hid her head against the ceiling.
After a few seconds of sitting in silence, she flung her legs over the side of her bed and lowered herself to the ground. Mike, who slept under her, sighed in his sleep. She quickly got out.
There was light in the arena. It seemed to come from a tall, brawny man, who stood in the middle of the pit. Clarisse hadn’t seen him in some time, but instantly recognised him: her father, Ares.
With her head high, she approached her father. She wasn’t going to cower before him - he probably wouldn’t appreciate that anyway.
‘Father.’
‘Clarisse. My daughter.’ He tilted his head, with a smirk. ‘You look like you train hard.’
‘I do.’
‘And that with a weapon that doesn’t fit you.’
Clarisse felt her cheeks turning red. Of course, it had been whiny to ask for it. She probably shouldn’t have, but well, no turning back now.
Her father stomped his foot on the ground. He moved his hand higher and higher. A spear apeared in it, in exactly the right size for his daughter.
He handed it to her. While Clarisse was gawking at the weapon, Ares snapped his fingers. On the other side of the arena, a straw training dummy appeared. ‘Chuck it through its chest. If you manage to do it, the spear is yours,’ he told Clarisse.
The arena turned darker, so that seeing the strawman became more difficult. Clarisse held up the spear, feeling the warmth course through her body.
She took a deep breath and concentrated on the puppet. She could do it, she knew she could.
She threw. With a soft ‘tock,’ the spear glided into the strawmans’ chest. The next moment, the strawman was hit with an electric shock. Immediately after, the straw caught fire.
Clarisse’s mouth fell open. She heard her father snicker next to her.
‘Just what you wanted, isn’t it?’
‘....Yes!’
‘It does less damage to humans. I wouldn’t want that old horse or, gods forbid Dionysus, to kick you out. It will only paralyze mortals and demigods.’
‘Ah.’ Ares snapped his fingers. The spear appeared back in Clarisse’s hands. ‘... Thanks, dad,’ she mumbeld.
‘I know you are thankful. I’d love to stick around now, but I suppose the ‘director’ won’t be happy.’
Clarisse shrugged. It didn’t really matter to her what they would think. Ares smirked and disappeared, leaving her behind with the spear and a new found sense of power. She looked at her spear, her new, shiny, deadly... maiming spear. People would think twice before crossing her now.
A/N: I almost forgot that there was something like a camp store
I think Clarisse is about… twelve or thirteen here. In the next year, David is gone and she’s camp counsellor, basically.
