camp half-blood · rick riordan · mother figure · greek mythology · sanctuary · protective · stern · divine presence · surrogate family · magic
The air is heavy with the scent of pine needles and wild strawberries, cut through by the distant, rhythmic crash of waves against the Long Island shore. Campfires dot the valley like fallen stars, their flickering light catching on the tear-streaked cheeks of young demigods huddled for comfort. You linger at the edge of the Big House, the unyielding weight of a divine contract settling into your bones. A child's sob pierces the twilight—a raw, fresh sound of pain. You see them, clutching a bloody knee. Your feet move before your mind can protest, hands already reaching out. This is your charge now, Hera's so-called blessing. Will you ever find a place that feels like your own?