"Watch it! Hold it steady!" A dozen streams of purple fire struck across the sky in perfect synchronization, the intensity of their light enough to make the sun look dull. How insulting. "Keep your eyes locked! Do not let it get away!" A muscular boy ran through the defensive line of archers in a flash of bronze and gold, an illusion made possible thanks to his shimmering cape and breastplate. The boy had windblown blonde hair that curled around his ears and hard blue eyes. If looks could kill, he'd have taken out the monstrosity that his cabin faced with an attractive glare. Unfortunately, no matter how many times he stared down his enemy it didn't seem to make much an impact. Nor did his arrows.
He took cover behind the trunk of a sturdy birch tree--one of the few that hadn't been toasted to bits by that... thing. An ear-piercing shriek resonated from somewhere beyond the disintegrated treeline, out in the open of the buttercup buttercup meadow. The sound quaked through the ground and struck chills into every fighting demigod. But they held their defensive line, nocking arrows into the grooves of their bows, taking shaky breathes, and sending them forward.
Their target was a beast hybrid composed of as many terrifying creatures as Kronos could think of. It had the head of a human, under a skull helmet with two large curling horns crawling through the top, and a beefy horses' neck, with celestial bronze vains rippling from the monster's jawline to its collar bone, where they split and ran down all six of its blue arms (courtesy of some unfortunate Hyperborean Giants.) Its torso seemed to belong to that of cyclops or horrifically buff man, with a stygian iron breastplate sutured into its chest. The monstrosity wore chainmail pants that hid his legs from view, but at the bottom slipped out large iron hooves. And icing on the cake, above this eight foot tall creature hovered a manticore's spiked tail, doused with toxin.
The monster craned its head back, let out a gutteral roar from its chest, and shot a burning charge from its jaws. This ball of firepower spun through the air and cracked into another dozen purple streams that raced each other across the sky, raining down fire and tar on the children of Apollo below.
The boy behind the tree propelled an arrow into the meadow, and it grazed across the buttercups and stuck into the sternum of the gargantuan brute. The monster didn't even seem to notice. One of its arms snapped the arrow in half and tossed the splintered wood to the side.
"Michael! Nothing is working! Our arrows are just bouncing away!" From the cover of some shrubbery emerged a small head of wispy, golden blonde hair. He looked distraught. "We may need to take a different approach to this."
"Nonsense, Will!" The larger boy, Michael, nocked another arrow into his bow and expelled it forward. His accuracy was absurd--the arrow shot through the broken stem of the last one and into the center of the monster's chest. "Frankenstein just needs a few more good hits to the heart!" Despite the turmoil they were facing, the cabin leader managed a flawless, grin of perfect teeth.
It looked genuine and true, and the smaller boy wandered how he could possibly manage it at a time like this. Will's steely blue eyes began to glisten. He felt a clog of sobs well up in his chest, and his mine blanked of anything to say. There was nothing to say. This monster was unstoppable and it seemed that they were only prolonging their impending doom. And this guy, his leader, was just so relaxed about it. Will felt a calloused hand run through his hair and pause on the top of his head. Will looked up despondently, eyes sunken, bled of color and sapped of hope.
"Wipe the snot from your nose, bud. We've got a job to do!"
There it was again. Michael's smile, dripping with pride and joy. "Why do you smile so much? How can you smile so much?" Their siblings were slowly getting picked off as this monstrosity made its way towards camp. It was just a few miles off from destroying their home, and as the moon arched through the sky, the weary group's confidence was fading. Except for this one, smiling man.
He pushed back Will's hair. "Win or lose, we're gonna try for Apollo. Dad's watching, ya'know? And we're gonna do him proud. Because when we're fighting for him, we're fighting with him. And when we fight with him, we can never lose." With the his tunic's sleeve he wiped a smudge of mud off of Will's face. Will didn't know what to do. It was strange, but the soothing voice he heard seemed to act like a natural anaesthetic. And the words? They gave him power. Mental power, but power nonetheless. Something his cabin leader had said made success suddenly possibly in his mind. Like it struck a chord, and triggered a release of courage and adrenaline. It's as if he put the puzzle pieces together...or maybe he snapped and lost his mind. It didn't matter. All Will knew, was that suddenly didn't want to just accept defeat. He had hope. He would live, and he would save his camp.
Another burst of fire in the sky and Will was ready to take back this stupid buttercup field. Making quick adjustments to the leather quiver on his back, he ensured that he had a stock full of ammo before doing what only the brave or stupid would dare to do. He surged onto the battlefield.
Most archers, most intelligent archers would find a secure location that gave them plenty of cover advantage, where they could get a good view of their surrounding and shoot before the enemy got the chance. Will couldn't think. His head was hot, anger and patriotism taking control. He sprung over some crouched archers--his brothers and sisters--and over the imaginary line that they'd all made a silent agreement not to pass, sprinting into the open. His bow was clutched so tightly in his left hand that his knuckles were white. His first arrow was loaded into the bow as he waded through the flowers towards the hybrid monster.
It let a blood-curdling shriek out into the atmosphere, and it took all of Will's courage not to spun around and rush back with his tail between his legs. But he barreled forward, executing one shot after another, aiming for exactly where his cabin leader had--the very center of its chest. Michael had managed to put a crack in the armor, Will noted, and he vowed that he'd be the one to shatter it entirely. He'd keep it as a prize once the battle was over--if he survived.
"Will! Will what are you doing?" The low, familiar voice sounded from behind him. A small pant grew louder as a figure emerged from the darkness and buttercups. His square, bushy eyebrows drew together like a chapel's rooftop, and he frowned. "I'm glad you're taking initiative but this isn't really what I meant, man." Michael had come to either defend their ground or drag Will away. Regardless of reasoning, it made the cluster of fear and nausea welling in the young warrior subside some, having such a strong leader at his back.
The monster let out another hiss into the sky, tail lashing about, smashing either side of the ground. It clearly saw or smelt or somehow noticed the two demigods so foolishly skipping up to it, and fully intended to take advantage of their stupidity. It was pretty pissed they were shooting arrows at it, anyway. "Well, we got in this far..." Will breathed, tightening his fingers around the smooth wooden bow in his hand.
"Guess we gotta keep going..." Michael finished, and as Will looked back to give him a nervous smile, he winked. Then together, captain and soldier, archer equals, they charged. Michael took the long shoots, forcing another crack into the armor. It made a pretty good distraction, and while the monster lowered its skull claddened head to glare at the boy, Will made a straight-away for it. He nose-dove between the monster's legs, praying to Apollo that the thing wouldn't decide to squish him into the flowers with it's cumbrous hooves or stick him with that deadly manticore tail.
Will wasn't sure if his reflexes had finally decided to kick in, or if it was adrenaline or the Gods helping him, but as he moved, his body began to lax and flow, and time seemed to decelerate. At the end of his dive, he curled in his body for a roll, and used the last of his momentum to spring up on the other side of the angry beast. He pressed his foot against the ground and pushed off, contorting himself so that he faced the jagged spine of the malignant fiend. His fingers released, and as he hit the ground a silver arrow dispatched against the cable with a bounce. It corkscrewed threw the air and stabbed into one of the few tender places the monster had--its butt.
There was a howl of grief and the monster flared up, enraged and very clearly distressed. Will rolled out of the way as the lumbering body of the hybrid whirled around--at a faster speed that any of the Apollo Archers had previously seen it capable of--and bore down with six curled fists. As each clobbering hand hit the ground, dirt and rocks were thrown up, spraying Will. It stung, but it he'd rather be hit with that another hundred times than be hit with a single one of the meaty fists. The rotten fingernails weren't even trimmed! Gross! Also very painful.
But it had missed him by a meter, and for that Will was grateful. He'd have to thank his father with a proper hot dog and soda sacrifice when he returned to camp--assuming he did. The barbed tail jerked across the field, beheading several hundred plants, and spun around at Will in a hip-check from Hades.
With quick, precise movements the boy ripped another arrow from his quiver, nestling it into the bow, pulling his arm back and letting it fly. It whistled only a few feet, due to the terrifyingly close proximity of Will to the monster, and stuck through the eye-hole of its Skeletor helmet. There was a wail of pain, so loud and shrill that Will was left with nothing more than a ringing sensation in his ears, before the massive head dropped into the dirt. Its tail lost speed and plummeted into the ground just before taking Will's life, once again spraying him in a pile of dirt and buttercups.
He exhaled in a hysterical, psychotic kind of laugh, and let himself fall back into the bed of flowers after the monster showed no sign of getting up. "Oh, oh gods, how 'bout that." He smiled up at the stars and tried to catch his breath. "Michael! We did it!"
Will had expected to hear some sort of cheer back, but got nothing. He stuck a finger in his ear and twisted. Probably just didn't get all his senses back just yet. "Michael! We've saved camp...!" His voice faded out as he waited for a reply. Still, an absence of his brother's voice. It made him nervous. With a small groan, Will rose up, poking his head above the swooshing buttercups as the wind swept across the meadow. It was eerily quiet, and Michael was nowhere to be seen. "Michael...?" In panic he sprung to his feet and began wading back, waving to his comrades that they could come out of the forest brush while searching for Michael.
It only took a few minutes of searching, at which point the rest of the archers had made an appearance, to find Michael's body. He was a crumpled mess of blood and grass, moaning faintly. From his chest protruded a large barb, from the beast's tail. Blood seeped out around it through the torn tunic and cloak. Will's stomach plunged. The leader, just a few minutes ago in all of his golden glory, was a pale, sickly mess, left dying in the weeds. Will couldn't move. He tried to calculate what had happened, how Michael could've possibly been left like this. Will's eyes welled up uncontrollably, and he couldn't help the tears streaming down his face. He dry heaved and sobbed, shaking head to toe.
Several other Apollo kids spotted them and rushed over, pushing Will out of the way. They knelt down to tend to Michael, removing the protrusion and compiling gauze into his wound. One fiddled around with a bag of ambrosia squares, trying to retrieve some for their leader, who was silently mouthing something.
Will stumbled around the outside of the medic circle and their equipment to Michael's head. The boy seemed to be locking eyes with Will. He croaked out Will's name, and a fresh wave of tears unleashed. He knelt down by Michael's head, and Michael made the effort to grin. The corners of his lips twinged as if it was taking all of his effort to perform the task. But it was there, that signature, genuine, prideful smile. Michael's eyes drooped in exhaustion. Blood trickled out his mouth. He was a mess, with dirt and blood smeared across his face. But that pearly white smile existed still. "We got Frankenstein..?"
"Y-yeah, we did."
"Good boy."
Will whimpered and wiped his rosy nose across his sleeve. "I'm not your dog..."
"You're my brother. And you saved my camp."
No, no he didn't... Not alone, at least. Michael was just as much a part of the victory. "We saved the camp."
Despite the protest from the medics, Michael slid his arm across the ground, raising it slowly. He placed the palm of his hand on Will's sweaty mop of golden hair. "Can't lose with Apollo."
Will nodded slowly, no longer capable of getting out words. He thought he'd just sob if he tried to speak again, so he bit the insides of his cheeks and tried to smile at Michael.
Michael's eyes were closing. Both of them knew this was the last time they'd see each other again. "Take care of the cabin, Will Solace... I know you can." His hand fell off Will's head and to the ground, and at the same time the Apollo medics became frantic, slurring off commands and information. "No pulse" he heard as one of the archer's he had jumped over on his way out into the field began last-resort CPR on Michael's corpse. Of course, nothing happened. But nobody wanted to admit it. There leader was dead.
A few minutes later, the medics were packed up, and Michael's body was wrapped in a white sheet. Will still hovered over it, staring down without expression. A hand was placed on his shoulder, and he looked up to see the tiny brunette who'd attempted futile CPR. His face was grim. "We gotta go back."
Will couldn't manage words. He nodded and the brunette helped him rise to his feet. The band of survivors moved in a pack back to camp. Many handling bows and arrows, a few carrying the wounded. Nobody spoke, and an invisible cloud of sadness hovered over them all the way back. The medics and wounded went to the infirmary, and two representatives disappeared into the big house to tell Chiron the news. Most went back to their cabin to rest and mourn. Will? He climbed onto the roof to stare up at the sky for a while. His face glowed almost white in the moon's reflecting light. His orange camp shirt was ragged and caked in sweat and dirt and probably tears, and his jeans were ripped. The leather quiver and bow still hung across his back. For a while, he just sat, thinking. He was sad, as sad as the others, certainly. But he could here Michael's voice in the back of his head, speaking encouragement still. Will could visualize that mesmerizing smile. He matched it with his own dimpled smirk. Somehow, things were going to be okay.
---
Swords smashed together and glinted under the powerful sun's rays, casting shadows across the gravel arena floor. A much taller, sculpted Will brandishing a sword of celestial bronze, standard to all demigods. He was about 6 foot, with short, golden blonde hair that cowlicked at the corner of his hairline. His rounded face had since matured, and now he had strong cheekbones and a muscled jawline. His sunken eyes gave a soft sleepy feel to his expression, with high contrast to the deep blue color of the irises. Similar to many of Apollo's children, the boy had a bony, pointed nose. His thin lips and soft smile were shared with only one child of Apollo he was familiar with--one who'd died long ago. But the broad dimples under his nose were his own.
He parried a stab at his chest and tilted his sword, flicked his wrist to push his opponent's weapon away. The girl pulled her sword forward again into an attempted cut, but before she could get in range, Will had pressed forward and pushed the hilt of his own into her chest. She stumbled back onto the ground with a thud and an oof! She sighed and sat back on her hands, sword dropped and off to the side. "I really suck at this."
Will shrugged. "Swords have never really been an Apollo thing. But I'll tell you a secret. We're children of Apollo: win or lose, we make dad proud." Held out a muscular arm to hel the girl up. When she accepted and drew herself off the ground.
She retrieved her sword and surveyed it, before glancing back up at her cabin leader. "Again?"
Will grinned. "Absolutely. Let's go, Apollo style."
Subject: Siblings to the Sun and Back 
Wed Oct 10, 2012 12:40 am
