I didn’t believe in magic. Not really anyway. I mean, I believed in the magic of the gods, but not in magic as in witches and wizards.
But that was before the summer of my nineteenth birthday. Before the woman who could see through the mist arrived in our borders. Before the oracle spoke another prophecy. Sorry Rachel, but I hate prophecies.
Oh boy. Things only went downhill from there.
I don’t like this girl. She showed up this morning, seeing through the mist, and waving something around, a stick.
Well, really she was a woman, but it makes me feel and sound superior to her (which I am) if I say that she’s just a girl.
She’s a total know it all, with a big bush growing out of her head, which she apparently sees fit to call hair. And, she carries this fancy looking carved stick, which is all just a bit too much.
But Chiron wanted her, so he got her. Great, Chiron. Just great. So know, we’re all stuck with the new girl hovering around camp. Well, at least until tomorrow. Then we’ll have a meeting, and we can find out what she wants.