LV. Fragile

                                    

                                          
Lydia took a moment to think. There was something about this guy that seemed off, but she didn't mention anything out loud. The man just looked down "Sorry about that. Mrs O'Leary is mine, but she's harmless. I swear. Anyway— I'm Quintus."
"Oh— I'm Lydia." She introduced herself "I didn't mean to freak out."
"Been a long day?" He asked. He kept his sword point on the stone ground, gleaming in the dangerous sunlight. "I understand. Being a demigod is hard."
Lydia realized what he was saying. It was just a surprise that some demigods did live past their early twenties, but it wasn't very common. 
" I'm the new sword instructor, by the way. Helping out Chiron while Mr. D is away." Quintus continued, trying to keep the conversation going. Which was a bit weird— in Lydia's opinion.
But it was weirder that Dionysus was away. Lydia's father never got to leave the camp grounds that much, but now he was away for some reason. Castor and Pollux didn't mention that. But maybe they didn't know anything about it.
"Oh." Lydia tried not to stare as Mrs. O'Leary ripped off the target dummy's shield with the arm still attached and shook it like a Frisbee. "Dionysus is away?"
"Yes, well...busy times. Even Dionysus must help out. He's gone to visit some old friends. Make sure they're on the right side. I probably shouldn't say more than that."
Usually— it wouldn't be such a big deal that Dionysus was away. But on the other hand, if her father had gotten off his butt and actually started helping the gods recruit against the Titan threat, things must be looking pretty bad. The last thing they needed was a war. 
Off to the left, there was a loud BUMP. Six wooden crates the size of picnic tables were stacked nearby, and they were rattling. Mrs. O'Leary cocked her head and bounded toward them. 
"Whoa, girl!" Quintus said. "Those aren't for you." 
He distracted her with the bronze shield Frisbee.
The crates thumped and shook. There were words printed on the sides:
TRIPLE G RANCH
FRAGILE
THIS END UP
Along the bottom, in smaller letters: OPEN WITH CARE. TRIPLE G RANCH IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR PROPERTY DAMAGE, MAIMING, OR EXCRUCIATINGLY PAINFUL DEATHS.
"What's in the boxes?" Lydia asked slowly. If the contents in the box could cause painful deaths then she didn't want to know what was inside, but her demigod brain pushed her to ask.
"A little surprise," Quintus said. "Training activity for tomorrow night. You'll love it."
Lydia just shook her head "I'm not sure love is the right word. Painful deaths?"
Quintus threw the bronze shield, and Mrs. O'Leary lumbered after it. "Well, You young ones need more challenges. They didn't have camps like this when I was a boy."
"Then how did you survive?" Lydia wondered. It was a basic fact that demigods couldn't survive on their own. It was dangerous, and without help they'd never be found. They would never live long enough for gray hairs to even show.
Quintus chuckled, his eyes shone as if Lydia hit a sensitive spot bringing up his past. But he didn't let it show that much  "Some of us do survive into adulthood, you know. Not all of us are the subject of terrible prophecies."
She paused. It wasn't possible— she hadn't told anyone about the prophecy except for Annabeth and the twins. The only other people who knew were Apollo and the fates themselves. How did he know?
Memories flashed through her mind. She was standing in a dark Victorian throne room. Old paintings filled the walls, and the fires that burned were green instead of red. And the three thrones were occupied by three women in dark hooded robes. 
She was standing in the room of the fates. The reality crossed into her mind, but she couldn't do anything else before her mind was flooded with a prophecy. Lydia wasn't sure how much more teleporting she could handle today. The fates showed her memories she'd never seen before.
Lydia was standing on a beach. She didn't know what beach it was because it looked like every other place by the ocean waters. Except for a few of her old teachers in front of her. They stared at her without blinking.
"The daughter of wine goes and finds her true love's mind, Being the first since ancient times to be his confine. But even through the golden light, she'll have a life darker than night. A mistake to be born that has worn a crown of old. And her soul shall be torn."
The fates spoke in sync, which scared Lydia more than anything. But with that horrible prophecy she was sent back to Apollo. She collapsed on the white marble floor, struggling to breathe. 
"You know about my prophecy?" Lydia finally replied. Her face felt cold now.
"I've heard a few things." The swordsman cleared his throat.
And that pretty much ended their conversation.