Son of Fire

During the stillness of the night, after the Hunters had settled into their magical tent following their victory over the monster, Alexander found himself restless. The forest around the camp was calm, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. Artemis had gone off to perform her divine duty, driving the moon across the night sky, leaving the world to its quiet rhythm.

Unlike the others, Alexander had set up his own makeshift shelter further away, using nothing more than a bedsheet draped over some branches. It wasn't much, but it was enough for him. He preferred the solitude, especially when he needed space to clear his mind or focus. He had been in the tent for a while, but the stillness of the night was too much to bear, urging him to do something. He had always found peace in music.

After a moment of hesitation, Alexander reached for the black guitar he had hidden earlier, carefully placed among a pile of leaves. The guitar had been with him for some time, a personal connection he kept hidden from others. He didn't mind playing—it was his way of expressing feelings and thoughts that didn't easily form words—but he had never shown it to anyone. Music was his alone.

He sat down on the cool ground, the night air brushing against his skin, and gently wiped the guitar clean. The instrument gleamed faintly under the moonlight as he ran his fingers over its smooth surface, making sure every string was in place. He adjusted the guitar, feeling its weight in his lap. It was comforting, a way for him to share a piece of himself without speaking.

After a brief pause, he began to play, the soft strumming of the guitar filling the space around him. The chords were slow at first, almost tentative, as he let the melody form. Then, with a deep breath, he began to sing. His voice was quiet but carried an emotion of sadness.

-Runaway

"Ah, ah, ah-ah, ah

Ah, ah, ah-ah

Ah, ah, ah-ah, ah

Ah, ah, ah-ah, ah

I was listening to the ocean

I saw a face in the sand

But when I picked it up

Then it vanished away from my hands, down

I had a dream, I was seven

Climbing my way in a tree

I saw a piece of Heaven

Waiting, impatient for me, down

And I was running far away, would I run off the world someday?

Nobody knows, nobody knows

And I was dancing in the rain, I felt alive and I can't complain

No, take me home, take me home where I belong

I can't take it any more

I was painting a picture

The picture was a painting of you

And for a moment, I thought you were here

But then again, it wasn't true, down

And all this time I have been lying

Oh, lying in secret to myself

I've been putting sorrow on the farthest place on my shelf

Da-di-da

And I was running far away, would I run off the world someday?

Nobody knows, nobody knows

And I was dancing in the rain, I felt alive and I can't complain

No, take me home, take me home where I belong

I got no other place to go

No, take me home, take me home where I belong

I got no other place to go

No, take me home, take me home where I belong

I can't take it any more

But I kept running for a soft place to fall

And I kept running for a soft place to fall

And I kept running for a soft place to fall

And I kept running for a soft place to fall

And I was running far away, would I run off the world someday?

No, take me home, take me home where I belong

I got no other place to go

No, take me home, take me home where I belong

I got no other place to go

No, take me home, home where I belong, oh, no, no

No, take me home, home where I belong, ho-home, home

No, take me home, home where I belong, oh, no, no

No, take me home, home where I belong, I can't take it any more"

As Alexander finished the final chord of the song, the forest seemed to grow quieter. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something. It was subtle at first, like a shift in the air, but he could sense it—a presence, hidden just beyond the tree near him.

He paused for a moment, then smirked knowingly, looking directly toward the spot where he sensed the figure was. "You know, you might be the goddess of hunting, but you're not that discreet."

The rustling sound of movement came from behind the tree, and then the voice of Artemis herself echoed through the night air, warm and playful. "Yeah, when I want to be, I can be discreet. But I don't want to be right now. I was just trying to listen and see if your skills could pick me up. I have to say, I'm impressed. Even Zoe sometimes can't find me when I'm at this level of presence."

Alexander tilted his head slightly, his expression calm but amused. "Well, I've been sharpening my skills for 10 years in a monster field for us. It's sharpened my skills quite well," he replied, his voice steady and confident.

There was a brief silence, and then Artemis's voice came again, this time with a tone of genuine admiration. "You have quite a beautiful voice," she said. "It might even be better than my brother Apollo's."

Alexander couldn't help but smile at the compliment, his fingers still resting lightly on the strings of the guitar. "That's quite the praise," he said, his voice soft but filled with humility.

As the silence lingered, Artemis's voice cut through the stillness again, softer than before. "Then, how can I say this?" she asked, her tone contemplative. "You must have felt quite lonely during those years in this forest, didn't you? I mean, even if, like you say, you went to the library to see that librarian, I don't think you went there every day, did you?"

Alexander paused, his gaze shifting to the ground for a moment as he processed her words. Then, with a small, almost wistful smile, he responded, "No. When I was six or seven, I don't remember exactly, I went to the library to find some books. She helped me. She was an old lady, around 70. And from there, I went to the library every day until her death, which happened seven years ago." His smile faded slightly, replaced by a hint of melancholy. "It was more of a reason for me to stay in this forest. She even left me a gift in her will, you know that?" He chuckled softly, though it was tinged with a sadness. "She gave me a lot of paint. I have literally a lifetime of coupons to buy paint in a small art shop downtown, nearly 15 kilometers away. I went from time to time to get the paint."

Artemis's voice softened, a hint of understanding in her words as she said, "I know how it feels, Alexander, to be that lonely, lost in the silence of your own thoughts."

For a moment, Alexander simply stared ahead, struck by the rare vulnerability in her voice. It was a side of the goddess he hadn't expected to hear, and it made him realize that even beings like her, so often removed from human struggles, carried their own weight in unexpected ways. "You do?" he asked, his voice quiet with curiosity.

"Yes," Artemis responded, a faint smile in her tone. "In my own way, I do."

Hearing Artemis's answer, Alexander stood up, the guitar still in his hands, and turned to face the goddess. With a quiet but firm voice, he said, "Follow me."

Artemis, still perched nearby, glanced at him with curiosity. There was a fleeting moment of hesitation, but then she nodded. She followed as he began walking deeper into the forest, her eyes scanning the surroundings warily. The shadows of the trees seemed to stretch long in the moonlight, the air thick with the hum of night creatures and the rustle of leaves.

As they ventured further, the path grew less familiar, the forest more dense. Alexander moved confidently, as though he knew this place intimately. Artemis, for her part, remained cautious, her sharp eyes constantly flicking around, alert to any potential threat, despite the apparent peace of the night.

They passed through thick underbrush and tangled roots, weaving between ancient trees that towered above them like silent sentinels. After what felt like a while, the sounds of the forest began to quieten, replaced by the distant whisper of wind rushing through the trees.

Then, they arrived.

Before them stood a cliff, its edge crumbling slightly in places, but offering an impressive view. Below, the forest stretched out endlessly, the dark expanse of trees meeting the horizon in a gentle curve. The moonlight bathed the landscape in an ethereal glow, casting long shadows across the ground.

Alexander took a deep breath, gazing out over the edge of the cliff. "This is it," he said softly, his voice almost lost in the wind. "This is where I come when I need to think." He looked back at Artemis, his gaze steady. "A place to clear my mind."

Artemis stood beside him, her eyes scanning the view before her. She took in the breathtaking scene, her gaze lingering on the horizon where the forest met the vast expanse of the sea. The moonlight cast a soft glow on the woods, making the trees shimmer as if touched by stardust. The light from the forest seemed to reflect off the water, creating a serene pathway that led toward the distant beach, its sands glowing faintly in the pale light.

She breathed in deeply, the air cool and fresh, and for a moment, she was completely still, absorbed in the beauty of it all. "One wonderful view," she murmured, almost to herself. "The beauty of the woods, the sea... It feels like a dream."

Alexander, still holding the guitar, watched her carefully, then turned his attention to a small sign placed near the cliff's edge. It was an old, weathered board with faded paint, but still legible enough to read. He smiled as he approached it, his fingers lightly tracing the worn surface. On the sign, he had written something long ago.

"Here," he said softly, gesturing to the sign. "I wrote this... when I first found this place."

The sign read: "Where silence speaks and the soul listens."

"Quite poetic," Artemis said, her voice calm yet appreciative as she examined the words on the sign. She turned her gaze back to the view, her expression thoughtful. "I understand. A place like this, it does something to you."

Alexander nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Yeah, I found myself here. Sometimes I have these moments of enlightenment, where I find an inner artist within me. It could come out in poetry, painting, or even singing. It's... a kind of escape, I guess."

Artemis looked at him, intrigued by his words. "I see," she said quietly. There was a pause as she absorbed his explanation, her eyes still focused on the landscape in front of her. Then, after a moment, Alexander turned toward her, his expression curious.

"So, Artemis," he began, "tell me. What do you like to do in life? I mean, a goddess like you must have some... other things you enjoy, right? When you're not hunting monsters, leading your hunt, or doing your godly duties, what is it that you like?"

The question hung in the air between them, and Artemis seemed to consider it carefully. She wasn't accustomed to such inquiries—being a goddess, her life was often defined by her roles and responsibilities. But there was something about Alexander's sincerity that made her pause.

"Well," she began slowly, her tone reflective, "there is more to me than just hunting and my duties. I have moments, just like you, where I can be... something different. Something more." She looked over at him, her eyes glinting faintly. "I enjoy the peace of the night, the stillness, the quiet of the forest when I'm not on a hunt. There's something about it that calms me, centers me. And, sometimes, I take pleasure in the beauty of nature—its rawness. It reminds me of who I am beyond the goddess."

She glanced toward the horizon, as though seeking something in the distance. "I also enjoy watching the stars. Not many know this, but the constellations, the way they move in the sky, it fascinates me. There's a language to them, one only I can understand."

Artemis fell silent for a moment, and Alexander let her words settle in the cool night air. It was a side of her that he hadn't expected, a glimpse of her humanity despite being a goodness.

Artemis glanced at Alexander thoughtfully and said, "Why don't you go to Camp Half-Blood? If it's a camp for demigods, you would always be protected due to the barrier. The monsters can't enter unless they're invited, and the camp itself is quite large. I think you would enjoy it there. You'd be surrounded by others like you, people who understand the world you're a part of. And maybe your parents would claim you too."

She continued, her voice filled with a mix of curiosity and reassurance. "At Camp Half-Blood, you would find safety and purpose. The cabins are built for each Olympian god, and each one reflects the unique nature of their parent. The demigods there train together, learning to harness their abilities and grow stronger. There's also Chiron, the wise centaur, who trains and mentors the demigods. He's been around for centuries and knows how to guide you in this world."

Artemis looked at him, her eyes glinting with a mix of understanding and a slight sense of mischief. "It's a place where you could truly find yourself. There, you'll have your place among others who share the same struggles and skills."

Alexander shook his head, his expression thoughtful but firm. "I don't know... I've always enjoyed my loneliness," he said quietly, looking out over the cliff. He glanced at Artemis. "Where is it located?"

Artemis, ever perceptive, watched him with an understanding look, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "You've been subjugated by your own loneliness. You no longer want to see any... any people disturbing you, is it?"

She paused, letting the words sink in. Then, her voice softened. "It's located in Long Beach, if you ever want to go one day. The camp is always open to those who seek it, whenever you feel ready."

Alexander paused, mulling over her words for a moment. He wasn't sure what to make of it all, but he was determined not to be easily swayed. "I will think about it," he said finally, "but I'm not sure.:

His tone was almost wry, as though dismissing the idea as a matter of course. Yet, there was something deeper beneath his words—a part of him that wasn't sure if he was ready to open up, to join a place filled with others like him.