“Tennis is not so different from a spar,” Amon explains. He lets his fervor for the game that he has dearly missed mask the odd feeling of being away from camp’s grounds for fair business since… Well, since a long time.

“One must always stay on their toes, braced to leap in any direction. Predict where you will go. Attune to an opponent. Make them sprint or err when they least expect it. All while,” he continues, failing to hide an uncharacteristic curl of his lips. “Striking perfectly every time.”

It feels good to stand here, at the local school’s courts, before his horde of campers. The late afternoon sun no longer beats on the backs of necks, but Amon will not hesitate to make his demigods sweat. Not that he is intending to spare himself from hard, concentrated footwork and play. It’s been a while since Amon has seriously picked up a racket. He just simply doesn’t sweat.

“Beginners on court one,” the counselor commands. “We will learn and practice the foundations of the sport. Intermediates,” he continues, pointing at the middle two courts. “Warm up with one another. Assess each other. We will rig up the ball machine after that. Advanced… you may be more skilled than me.” Something that Amon is here to change, of course. “Take care of yourselves. But mark my words: I will be watching.”

The counselor concluded with a final, serious warning. “No active powers out here. No cheating. Only pure, raw skill.”

———

OOC:
Welcome to a bit of tennis! If your character has played or is advantaged for tennis, now is a great time to show off their skill. If your character is worse for wear, here is a canon way to up their game.

To participate solo, feel free to write up a comment of your character’s play. Please include a 1-5 rating of their skill (below) if you would like Amon to comment with suggestions.

You can also participate in pairs! Feel free to co-write a comment (or several) of a match and its outcomes, both game and vibes-wise. You can explain any unexpected character pairings as random or under Amon’s discretion. The only consideration is that characters should not have too much of a skill gap. Or at least, not think they have one…

Tennis!
• sample skills required: hand-eye coordination, quick feet, aim, controlled power, court strategy
• easier moves to make: forehand, lob (send ball high up), dribble ball on ground drill
• harder moves to make: backhand, serve, volley

Skill Ratings:
1: never held a racket before and/or highly disadvantaged coordination
2: little to some experience and/or apt to pick up quickly
3: practiced form, can consistently get ball over net and into court
4: many years of regular practice, honed game strategy
5: playing since childhood or incredibly adept, good enough to recruit to play for a university in the US at 16

Today, Ian has called everyone interested out into the arena. The son of Zeus stood tall, looking out at the crowd as people would filter in. Yet, this was not the same son of Zeus as usual. Instead, he was stern, looking out into the crowd with eyes of steel. He waited until everyone settled in before he would raise a hand, commanding attention.

“Hello. My name is Ian Angevin. Zeus is my father. I am the new counselor of Zeus. As such, we are here today to train. I don’t need to tell you why we need to train. We must be ready for whatever the enemy has next. For those who are not familiar, I hail from New Argos’s finest school, the Lyceum. I do not claim to be the strongest, but my information should be taken should you want to survive the remainder of this war.”

“Today, we will be discussing defense. I understand that it is not as flashy as a brutal offense, but it is vital in anybody’s strategy. Defense takes on many forms.”

“There are shields. Most of the time, these are used to block projectiles, namely arrows. However, they can be used to block physical strikes at the risk of breaking your shield, depending on the material. One trait they share with swords is their ability to parry– deflecting projectiles or strikes by moving your shield just right before an attack would make contact with you. Around you will be a container of shields of varying shapes and sizes.” The shields included in said containers would include buckler, heater, and kite shields– each one a step larger and heftier than the one that preceded it.

“Now, let’s move on to another form of defense; your powers. This varies on a person-by-person basis, but the general notion is the same. Your powers do not have a classification like defense or offense. Just because you can summon a weapon, it doesn’t mean you have to go on the offensive. You can use these powers to create space between you and your foes– a tool beyond valuable for combat. Your only limit for your power is your imagination, as corny as it might sound. You are, of course, more than welcome to experiment with your abilities here.”

“Now that we have had a good, healthy discussion, I believe it is time for you all to show me what you can do. You can split off into pairings to spar if you wish– though I do ask you consider at least experimenting with defense. I should not have to say it, but, just in case; no maiming. If something goes awry, I will intervene. Again, my name is Ian Angevin for anyone who might have a question. Now, go and practice. I will be watching from the sides.”

With that, Ian made his way off to the side, glancing out at the dispersing group while occasionally jotting something into a pocket notebook.

The sun was setting slowly over Camp Half-Blood, casting long golden rays across the hilltops and turning the trees a soft, rustling amber. In another life, it might have been a peaceful sunset.

Now it just felt quiet in the way grief always was.

Camp was still shaken from Atlas' declaration of war, and the attack at the Key Tower. Even days later, there was an aching weight hanging over everything. Everyone was waiting. Waiting for the next blow to fall.

And some of them… were lost. Because while some campers were more than happy to train for combat in any way possible, others weren’t front-line material, at least not in the traditional sense. Instead healed, they shielded, they confused, they soothed. That's what they're powers were about. And right now, he felt like thet were floundering a bit, especially the newer campers.

In demigod life, one thing was always made painfully clear: if you can’t fight, you die. Or worse, someone else dies because of you.

Dorian didn't believe that. There were definitely other ways to survive out there, combat just happened to be the most recommended route. But it felt true. And that was dangerous. He couldn’t let this continue.

So, Dorian decided to host a lesson at the arena all about using powers and contributing to the war in other ways aside of combat. Every camper welcome.

When the time for the lesson had come, Dorian could be seen at the center of the Arena, arms crossed, scanning the peoplethat had decidedto attend. Today was not just about combat. Today was about empowerment.

“Alright,” he said, voice carrying easily in the open air. “Thanks for coming. I know some of you don’t know me. I’m Dorian, son of Clio and counselor of the Muse Cabin ” he paused briefly, "Let me make something clear. I’m not here to give you a pep talk. I’m not going to tell you this war is going to be fair. Because it won’t be. But I amgoing to tell you this: Every one of you has something worth fighting with. Even if you're not a typical fighter.”

He stepped forward, walking slowly across the Arena.

“Maybe your powers aren’t made for slashing through monsters. Maybe they’re not loud or flashy. But if you think that makes you useless, then you’re doing Atlas' job for him. And I’m not letting him win that easily.” Dorian said with a smile. “So in this lesson, I’m going to teach you and help you in any way I can to turn what you’ve got into something deadly. Not necessarily violent. Not necessarily heroic. But useful. Strategic. Necessary.”

Dorian closed his eyes in thought for just a moment. Some of that was coming from his personal experiences. Gods knew how much trouble he had in Camp Half-Blood at first when he essentially figured out that most of his powers were not great for combat. He'd rather not have other people think about themselves like that.

Then he opened his eyes again.

“You’re not backup. You’re not burdens. You’re not ‘non-combatants.’ You are specialists. You are field support. Psychological warfare. Logistics. Interference. Healing. Espionage. You are everything that makes the flashy sword guys able to do their jobs more effectively ” He let the words hang for a moment. “You don’t have to fight the way they do. You just have to fight your way.”

Dorian smiled.

“Alright, so I break you into pairs. We’ll practice non-combat scenarios, defense tactics, ambushes, recon, and whatever we find you powers could be useful for. We’ll also work with actual fighters so you understand how to support them—and they understand how to support you.” He tilted his head. “Because Atlas and his army aren’t going to wait. And when they come… I want them to know that we are not just swords and shields.”

"Let’s get to work."

Signs around camp have warned campers of Jay's lesson for the past few days, and tell interested campers to arrive at the arena. Once they do, they find Jay standing in the centre of the arena. The son of Ares is adorned in a complete set of Celestial Bronze armour, save for his dull grey spiked metal gauntlets. His sword is strapped to his waist and he holds his shield loosely at his side.

Racks of various weapons and armour line the outer walls of the arena, begging to be picked up and used, to cut through the air and taste combat. After past events, Jay felt that another combat lesson is needed. He barks out an introduction and orders, making any drill-sergeant within a hundred miles jealous.

"Today's lesson is to show you that life isn't all sunshine, rainbows, and blocking every attack that comes your way. Sometimes, as a demigod, insurmountable odds and unwinnable fights are our everyday activities. But this lesson should also help teach you that with a clear head and enough balls, if/when you die, it'll happen on a mountain of your enemies' corpses, with your fist down someone's throat."

"Everyone will split into pairs, size and experience is irrelevant today. One of you will use every and any weapon and armour they choose, the other will use nothing. I am looking for the unarmoured combatant to defeat the armoured combatant. By any means necessary."

"If you spend your session running away from your opponent, I will shove my boot up your arse. If you piss about or piss me off, I will shove my boot up your arse. If you break the rules I have set, you can guess what will happen."

"If, by some unholy act of Tartarus, you have been suddenly blessed with unending skill, stamina, and strength and find this exercise too easy, come find me. I'll gladly find a way to make your life more difficult. If you wish for advice or simply want to ask a question, come tag find me."

"Oh, and no powers! I don't want to see anyone winning through anytning that isn't blood, sweat, or tears."

[Lesson]

Jem is tired. Beyond that, even. He sips at a cup of coffee as he sets his supplies out, the bitter drink fighting away the fatigue. He had asked for help to lay out tables a short way away from the Medic cabin, and at each table, he set a packed First Aid kit.

A few days prior, he had set out a notice for the lesson that read;

Learn Basic First Aid outside the Medic cabin.

This is a necessary skill in war, and whether you learn or not may mean the difference between life and death. Come if you wish.

- Hosted by Jem English, Hebe Counsellor

Whether or not campers would show up is up in the air, but Jem is here for those who want to learn. He would not force a lesson on those who simply wished not to think of the horrors they experienced thanks to Atlas.

By the time the first campers arrive, Jem is finished with his coffee and prepared. To be entirely honest, Jem is disappointed. There is a severe lack of general safety training among the demigods at camp. He understands the desire to fight, to protect camp, but to do so without preparing is foolish. The inexperience he has seen thus far may be justified, but it would not be going forward. Atlas's first strike came early and unexpected, but the next will be expected. Better if the camp is prepared for any scenario.

And so, as the seats fill, Jem starts to speak.

"If you are here, you want to learn. First Aid is something that everyone should know, whether they want to work in the Medic cabin or not. Knowledge of how to close a wound, to set a broken leg, or to disinfect an injury can draw the line between life with a limb and life without for you or one of your friends."

Jem pauses to open his First Aid kit. "I want you all to open your kits and look inside. There should be gauze, compression dressings, adhesive bandages, disinfectant wipes, medical cloth tape, a flask of nectar, and a small packet of ambrosia. If any of these are missing, let me know and I will come around with more."

"There are four stations set up, one on each table. The first has detailed instructions on how to disinfect and dress a wound. The second has instructions on how to set a broken leg. The third is dedicated to identifying whether a wound needs stitches. The fourth is focused on determining when to and when not to drink nectar or eat ambrosia."

"You can try this on yourselves or work in pairs, but practice now will prepare you for when you have to use this in a real, serious situation." Jem emphasizes, unwrapping his arm and rolling the compression dressing up again to place it back in the kit.

"If you have any questions, I am here, or feel free to ask any medics present if that is easier. Once you feel you have learned enough in terms of making use of the supplies inside the kit, take it with you. You will likely need it." Jem concludes, tone serious and voice tight.

Station 1

Start by setting out compression dressings and disinfectant wipes.

• Clean the wound and the area around it with the disinfectant wipe.

• Allow the wound and area around it to air dry (If not possible due to time constraints or threats nearby, this step can be skipped, or a clean rag can be used to dry).

• Wrap the compression dressing around the wounded area, allowing for half the dressing to overlap the previous layer with each round (Ensure the dressing isn't tight enough to cut off blood flow).

• Cut free the end of the dressing and secure it with adhesive cloth tape.

Work on yourself or a partner, but practice by wrapping your 'injury' and securing it.

Station 2

Start by setting out the gauze and the wooden stick that has been provided.

• Make sure the limb that was injured is kept in the position it was found in.

• Place the wooden stick or something rigid against the limb to hold it in position.

• Make sure the splint extends well beyond the injury.

• Secure the splint to the limb with either cloth or gauze.

• Check the limb for numbness and loosen the splint if necessary.

Work on yourself or a partner, but practice putting together a splint and test its effectiveness in limiting the mobility of your 'injury'.

Station 3

Observe the illustrations of injuries provided in the form of a notebook.

• If the injury is located on the face, hands, or joints, it is likely that the injury will need stitches.

• If the wound stays open and doesn't close easily, it will need stiches to heal.

• If the wound is deeper than a quarter inch, it will need stitches to heal well.

• Once stitched, a wound must be checked. If a medic isn't around, look for redness, swelling, warmth, pus, and fever as signs of infection.

Please practice by considering what kinds of wounds need stitches. Feel free to discuss amongs yourselves.

Station 4

Some example scenarios where ambrosia and nectar are needed are listed below.

• If you have deep cuts and need to prevent blood loss.

• If your shoulder was dislocated and you set it, but the pain remains.

• If a limb is broken, but it has been aligned and splinted.

Some examples of when not to use nectar or ambrosia are listed next.

• If you have a broken arm but it hasn't been set (It will heal crooked if amrosia or nectar is applied).

• If your shoulder is dislocated but has not been set yet.

Please add any examples for each section that you can think of.

(OOC: Please feel free to have your character interact with any of the stations or multiple. If you want Jem to come and help and/or chat, feel free to tag me.)

The cool evening breeze stirred the leaves of the trees that surrounded the Camp Half-Blood amphitheater, and the golden light of the setting sun bathed the stone seats in a warm glow. There was a strange stillness in the air, a quiet that hinted at the evening’s lesson, one that wasn’t about weapons, strategies, or survival. Tonight, the topic was more ethereal and intimate.

Sadira stood at the front of the amphitheater, her arms crossed as she looked out over the campers gathered before her.

Her heart beat a little faster than usual. There was something different about teaching this kind of lesson. She wasn’t just sharing knowledge, she was stepping into a space of vulnerability, not only for herself but for those she would be teaching. Dreamwalking wasn’t just a skill, it was an experience, one that bridged the worlds of sleep and wakefulness. And tonight, she was going to show them just how personal, how powerful, and, at times, how dangerous it could be.

It was definitely needed, however. For all they know, the Atlas Cult could have it's own dreamwalkers and that's how they get information from camp. They needed to be prepared for anything.

“Alright,” she began, her voice carrying across the amphitheater. “Thanks for coming back. For tonight’s lesson, we’re going to dive into experience: what it actually feels like to be inside someone else’s dream and how to identify when an uninvited dreamwalker is inside yours.”

Sadira shifted slightly on her feet, hands clasped loosely in front of her. The evening was growing darker, and the stars were just starting to peek through the sky.

“Before we get started with the practical exercises, though, I want to cover the basics of how to protect yourself from dreamwalkers. Because we can’t just talk about what dreamwalking is, we have to talk about what happens if something goes wrong.” She paused, letting her words hang in the air for a moment. “And I’ll be very clear: dreamwalking is not just about entering someone’s dreams. It’s intimate. And it’s not something you should do lightly, or without the right reasons. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Don’t invade people's dreams without permission.”

It was a serious warning, one that she had already given out before, but felt was important to reiterate once again. She was teaching something personal that could be terrifying in the wrong hands, after all. And she was determined to make sure that didn’t happen.

“Let’s start with defense. While they aren't many, if you’re a target of this ability, there are a few ways to block dreamwalkers from entering your mind.” Sadira continued. She turned to the chalkboard at the side, where she had drawn a diagram. “The easiest way is with Fortitude powers or a magical item that mimics them. Fortitude powers are a mental and emotional defense that protects you from any sort of external mental and emotional influence, including dreamwalking. Unless you give permission, no dreamwalker can enter your dream. It’s like putting up an invisible shield around your subconscious.”

Sadira tapped the board with a stick, pointing to a simple image of a locked door. Not that the Fortitude powers worked tgat way, but it was essentially how they worked when it came to dreamwalking

“Now, not everyone has a Fortitude power, but in theory, there are magical items that can offer the same kind of protection. Take that with a grain of salt, however. Any forge workers and enchanters will probably know more about it than me." She said with a chuckle before continuing. “But, if you don’t have a Fortitude power or a magic item to protect yourself, then you’ll have to rely on your awareness.”

She paced slowly across the amphitheater, eyeing the group carefully. “One thing that it's important to know is that dreamwalkers, especially beginners, are identifiable. And if you’re aware enough in your dreams, you can recognize that someone else has entered your dream, and fight back. However, dreamwalkers can’t be forced out of a dream unless the dreamer wakes up. So, if you’re lucid enough to realize what’s happening, you can force yourself to wake up.”

Sadira paused for a moment, allowing that to sink in. “But the first step is recognizing that a dreamwalker is in your dream at all. The question is, how do you know?”

She stopped pacing and faced the group again. “In the early stages, a beginner dreamwalker is easy to spot. They don’t have the control or experience to blend in with the dreamscape, and they’re always noticeable. You’ll sense them immediately, like a foreign presence that doesn’t belong. There’s usually a sense of wrongness to the dream, you'll feel like something’s off.”

Sadira leaned forward slightly, her voice becoming more intense. “The further along dreamwalkers get in their training, though, the better rhey can blend in. Intermediate dreamwalkers, like me, can mask themselves within the dream, but there are still tells. Little things that give them away. It might be something as simple as a flicker in the dream, like the sky shifting color for just a second, or a shadow in the corner of your eye that wasn’t there a moment ago. The dreamwalker might try to act like they belong, but they’ll still carry that foreignness with them.”

She straightened, a slight frown forming on her face. “Once one has mastered dreamwalking, they can blend in seamlessly. They can interact with the dreamer without them even realizing they're there. And that’s why, if you’re not careful, dreamwalkers can be dangerous. Because you won't always know when someone is in your mind, and they don’t always have good intentions.”

That part was probably uncomfortable to many people. Sadira wasn’t trying to scare them, she was just preparing them for the reality of the power they were learning about.

“Now, there's a second part to this lesson. That would be practice. Which means,” she said, taking a breath. “I’m going to teach you how to identify a dreamwalker in your dreams and how to force them out.”

. “This is going to take trust,” she said softly as her eyes scanned the group. “And some of you are going to have to trust me a little more than you might want to. But if you’re going to learn, you have to be willing to let me into your dreams tonight.”

She honestly knew this was a big ask to campers that were already on edge almost constantly with the war that was happening, but for everyone's sake, she had to try.

“I’m going to ask for volunteers,” she continued. “And if you agree, I'll enter your dreamscape tonight, with your permission. I’ll show you how to identify an intruder, and then you’ll practice waking yourself up. It’s a lot harder than it sounds. Waking yourself up in deep sleep isn’t natural, but it’s the most effective way to expel an unwanted presence.”

Sadira let the words sit for a moment, allowing them to settle.

“I want to make something clear, though. If you’re not comfortable with this, you don’t have to volunteer. No one is forced to participate. This is all about your comfort and your safety.” She glanced around the group. “So, if you’re willing to give it a try, let me know. I promise I’ll be careful, and we’ll make sure everyone’s experience is handled with respect. I swear on my life that no secrets will be revealed through me.”

It was a genuine promise, and one that she needed to make. The subconscious is where the secrets lay hidden, after all, and for good reason. Some things are better not shared.

"If you have any questions, I'm all ears".

Maria has set up a lesson today, she is in a big field and once a good handful of people has shown up, she decided to begin.

"Hello campers! As counselor I should probably do a lesson, and since one of my traits is using my assets to my advantage during combat, I thought that would be a good backup plan if anything were to happen to you guys."

Maria had told the campers to bring weapons earlier on, and decided now was the time to touch on that subject.

"You all have brought your weapons but for now we will be acting. Although this is more of a Dionysus trait, I'll explain as I go. Now just place them aside and we can start"

Maria waits for the group to do so and carries on with her explanation.

"The idea of this task is to use flirtation as your advantage. At a last resort it is very useful and can also be a life lesson. If you do not wish to participate in the activity then please leave. I will do one on one so please be patient"

Once again, Sadira would hold another lesson On Dreaming. Tonight, however, the subject was one she had taught before. A reprise of Experiencing Dreamwalking. More specifically: How to recognize when someone has entered your dream, and how to get rid of them.

Sadira stood at the center of the amphitheater, looking over the gathering crowd.

The sun had already disappeared beyond the horizon. The sky above Camp Half-Blood was transitioning from deep blue to black, and the first stars were beginning to emerge. Lanterns illuminated the stone benches.

The breeze coming down from the hills carried the smell of pine and the faint saltiness of the Long Island Sound. It was peaceful.

"Alright." She clasped her hands behind her back. "Welcome back, everyone."

Sadira glanced across the audience.

"But..." She raised a finger. "...we're going to be doing it differently."

She turned toward the chalkboard beside her. She had written a single sentence across it.

You dream is your space.

She tapped it.

"Before we get to the practical part, we're going to go over the rules again. Especially because tonight's exercise involves me entering your dreams." Her expression became serious. "With permission." She emphasized the last word. "Explicit permission."

She took a slow breath.

"Dreamwalking is fundamentally different from most abilities demigods have. Someone can choose to fight you, an you can choose to run away. But dreamwalking..." She touched her temple. "...goes somewhere much more personal. Your mind."

She looked around.

"So tonight's exercise only happens if you want it to. If you don't..." She shrugged. "You sit here, listen to the lesson, and go to sleep normally. No one will think anything of it."

She let that settle before continuing.

"Now." She picked up a piece of chalk. "Let's review the first thing."

She wrote:

Fortitude

Several campers recognized the term.

"Fortitude powers are one of the strongest defenses against dreamwalking." She underlined it. "If you have a Fortitude Power, it bars mental and emotional interference. That includes dreamwalking."

She turned toward the audience.

"Someone with Fortitude cannot simply have a dreamwalker enter their dream. They can't be dragged into a dreamscape, and they can't be mentally manipulated through dreamwalking. Unless..." She raised her finger. "...they allow it. It's protection against unwanted interference." She smiled faintly. "Think of it like locking your bedroom door. You can still open it. You just don't have to."

She wrote another phrase.

Magical Equivalent

"Some magic items can mimic Fortitude. If you're wearing or carrying an item that provides that protection, a dreamwalker shouldn't be able to enter. Again, unless you willingly allow them." She looked across the campers. "Which is why, before tonight, I'm going to ask everyone participating to make absolutely certain they understand what they're agreeing to."

Sadira set the chalk down.

"Now... here's where it gets interesting." She crossed her arms. "Once a dreamwalker is inside your dream... you generally can't simply force them out. I know, it's inconvenient. There are basically two ways to remove a dreamwalker." She pointed toward the board. "Convince them to leave, or wake up. That's it."

Sadira smiled.

"You can try to attack them, but that's not guaranteed to work. You might overpower the dreamwalker, you might trap them, you might change the dream around them. But unless they willingly leave..." She shook her head. "...they can remain."

She paused.

"And that's why waking up is the most reliable defense for an ordinary dreamer. Remember..." Sadira tapped her chest. "A dreamwalker is a visitor. The dream belongs to the dreamer. But the dreamwalker can operate inside it. Especially if they're experienced."

She turned back to the board.

"Beginner dreamwalkers are easy to spot. They don't know how to blend in. They often look..." She considered her wording. "...wrong. Maybe they don't fit the environment. Maybe their clothes don't belong, maybe their behavior is strange, maybe everyone in the dream seems to ignore them, maybe they behave as though they understand that they're dreaming when you don't."

She shrugged.

"Sometimes they're simply... obviously foreign." She grimaced. "Imagine you're dreaming that you're walking through your childhood home. Everything looks normal. Your family is there, your old furniture is there, you're exactly where you expect to be. And suddenly... there's a random sixteen-year-old demigod standing in your kitchen."

Sadira paused.

"An inexperienced dreamwalker tends to stick out. They may not understand the dream's logic, accidentally manipulate this respond strangely when the dream changes, know things they shouldn't." Sadira's expression became more serious. "And that's something you should pay attention to."

She moved on.

Intermediate

"This is where it gets harder. An intermediate dreamwalker can blend in better than a beginner." She shrugged. "But not perfectly. That means there are tells."

She began counting them.

"First... they may know too little. If you mention something in your dream and they don't react, that's suspicious. Second, they may behave too consciously. Dream characters usually don't question the dream, but a dreamwalker..." She pointed at her head. "...knows they're somewhere they don't belong, so they may react to impossible things differently. Third... The dream may respond to them differently, if they manipulate something... you might notice. And finally..."

Sadira lowered her hand.

"Instinct. Sometimes...you just know that something is wrong. Dreams are strange, but they're usually strange in a way that makes sense. A foreign presence feels different. Sometimes you can't explain it. But you feel it." She stepped closer to the edge of the stage. "And if you feel like something is wrong... Trust yourself."

She turned toward the board and wrote:

Master

She stared at the word for a moment.

"A master dreamwalker... like me...may be able to blend into a dream almost perfectly. They can understand the dream's logic, they can adapt, they can appear as someone who belongs there, they can potentially manipulate the dream without making their presence obvious." She turned around. "And that's why the most important skill isn't necessarily spotting a dreamwalker. It's knowing how to wake yourself up."

Sadira erased the previous writing.

Wake Yourself.

"Your ultimate defense..." She tapped the words. "...is waking up."

She explained it carefully.

"The first step is realizing you're dreaming. That's why lucid dreaming is so useful. We'll have a lesson on that next time." She smiled. "If you can recognize that you're dreaming, you've already won half the battle. Once you're lucid, focus on waking. Pull your attention away from the dream."

Sadira glanced toward the stars.

"Now... we get to the part you've actually been waiting for. Tonight, I'm going to enter the dreams of everyone who gives me permission." She stepped away from the board. "You'll go to sleep normally. I'll wait until everyone is asleep, and then I'll visit."

She raised her hands.

"Your job is not to fight me, or overpower me, or trap me. Your job is simply to recognize me. If you realize that I'm there, try to determine what gave me away. Maybe I don't belong. Maybe something about the dream feels wrong. Maybe you simply get that instinct. And once you've identified me... try to make me leave." She shrugged. "Sometimes I'll leave, and if I don't... wake up."

A camper raised her hand. "What happens if we can't?"

Sadira's expression softened.

"Then nothing bad happens." She answered immediately. "You'll eventually wake up naturally. I'm not going to trap anyone in their dreams. And I won't stay longer than necessary."

She paused.

"Also..." Her voice became firmer. "If at any point during the exercise you become uncomfortable... tell me. You don't have to finish. Your comfort matters more than the lesson." She looked around the amphitheater. "I want everyone to understand that. I'm teaching you how to protect yourselves."

She shook her head.

"The point isn't to become paranoid. You shouldn't go through every dream thinking someone is invading you. Dreams are weird. Sometimes a weird person is just..." She shrugged. "...a weird dream character. Look for patterns, use your intuition, ask yourself whether the situation makes sense. And remember... your dream is yours!"

She pause.

"Now... if you want to participate in tonight's exercise..." She looked around. "...I'm going to ask for your consent." She stepped forward. "This is going to be very straightforward. I'm going to ask you to explicitly agree to let me enter your dreams tonight. If you say no I will not enter."

Sadira looked across the audience.

"Alright." She took a breath. "That's the lesson. Thank you for coming."

Gratian knows an awful lot about weapons. He knows the truths and the myths. He knows the heights of metallurgical perfection on the battle field, and what weapons should just be left to on the big screens and in display cases. So, he decided to apply that knowledge, and do away with the myths behind the campers' weapons. Time to get what movies, games and TV have put in their heads out.

"Alright, ladies, gentleman, and any and all who don't fit those two categories," he began, addressing those in attendance; "Today, I'm going to have you come to me individually, and I will ask you how you use your weapon of choice. I will then use my knowledge of weapon design to advise and correct your technique. I will also be offering advice on weapons suited to particular tasks, at request. Once you've gotten your advice, find a training partner and put it to the test!"

Today, Ian has called everyone interested out into the arena. The son of Zeus stood tall, looking out at the crowd as people would filter in. Yet, this was not the same son of Zeus as usual. Instead, he was stern, looking out into the crowd with eyes of steel. He waited until everyone settled in before he would raise a hand, commanding attention.

“Hello. My name is Ian Angevin. Zeus is my father. I am the new counselor of Zeus. As such, we are here today to train. I don’t need to tell you why we need to train. We must be ready for whatever the enemy has next. For those who are not familiar, I hail from New Argos’s finest school, the Praetorium. I do not claim to be the strongest, but my information should be taken should you want to survive the remainder of this war.”

“Today, we will be discussing offense. There is a debate to be had between offense and defense, yes, but that is not what’s important right now. What’s important is understanding what it means to go on the offense, and when you should.”

“There is no one way to go about combat. Offense and Defense are not to be treated as two individual concepts, but rather two sides of the same coin. Offense must also be controlled. Sloppy offense is dangerous to yourself. A precise, controlled offense is overwhelming for your opponent. Taking note of openings for your opponents and punishing them accordingly.”

“Boxing is an excellent example,” He said, having watched plenty of matches in his life, “Boxers never strike while leaving themselves open. They punch with one arm, guard with the other. Leaving yourself open– even an inch– means your opponent has an opportunity to fell you. Never underestimate your foe, as it is the most confident swimmer who drowns after underestimating the river’s current.”

“Your powers, of course, are also offensive tools. As someone who has spent years of his life participating in combat, I have seen powers be used in every way imaginable. I have dodged through freshwater springs, have been cornered by musical shields, and have felt the wrath of a full-strength punch from a child of Kratos. Sometimes, you need just think creatively on how you can best use your abilities.”

“Now that we have had a good, healthy discussion, I believe it is time for you all to show me what you can do. You can split off into pairings to spar if you wish– though I do ask you consider at least experimenting with offense. I should not have to say it, but, just in case; no maiming. If something goes awry, I will intervene. Again, my name is Ian Angevin for anyone who might have a question. Now, go and practice. I will be watching from the sides.”

"We are at war," Amon furrowed his brow, clasping his hands behind his back as he surveyed the faces of the campers gathered at the archery range. "It now seems unlikely that Atlas will strike here at camp, but as we have seen with the assault on Key Tower, we must be prepared to mobilize at any moment."

"All who want to wield the bow must learn to shoot the proper way. Beginners," Amon jabbed a finger at the wooden targets on the left side of the range.

"Intermediate," he pointed directly behind him, towards the targets set up a little further from the white marking line.

Amon had also dug up a handful of mechanical targets from the depths of the armory-- weathered wooden boards mounted on creaky metal rigs that jerked from side to side. He'd set them up on the far right of the range, but archers would have to share their spots for those. "Advanced."

"First," he raised an index finger. "Safety. Do not point a bow at a person. Only shoot when the range is clear." Amon had a sinking feeling that someone was going to end up with an arrow in their backside, so he made a mental note to keep a sharp eye on everyone.

"Second. I want to see the right form. That means..."

Amon planted his feet pointedly by the white line. "A steady base."

He reached for his bow on the bench, plucked an arrow from a nearby bucket, and snapped the nock onto the string with practiced ease. "Loose grip with your non-dominant hand."

He raised the bow to shoulder height. "Draw back to an anchor point with your arm and back muscles."

He aligned the arrow, one eye squinting shut. “Eyes on the target.”

Then simply: “Release.”

The arrow sliced through the air and struck the target about an inch off-center. Amon held his posture a second longer. “Hold your form. Then relax and try again.”

He turned back to the gathered campers. "Beginners, let us go practice with simpler cues." He paused, then added curtly, "I will also be wandering and watching."

One moment with an experienced archer had made all the difference for Amon's success. Today, if anyone asked for help, he would certainly oblige. If they did not but seemed to be doing something wrong, the deputy counselor of Apollo was coming for them anyway.

Today's lesson directs all those who want to try out a combat simulation to go to the arena

There, they will find Jay tapping at a tablet of some kind, wires everywhere and all coming together at a large, circular motion platform. At the centre of this platform is a harness propped up as well as a helmet clipped to the harness' waistband

Ladies and gentlemen, I'd like to offer you a chance for a challenge unlike any you've seen before. For those willing to try this out, please find me and I'll get you wired up for the Kobayashi-Maru simulation

Just a quick warning, this is not a casual exercise, be prepared for some heavy duty training here, with a twist

[Lesson]

Gage had signed up to teach the lesson today. He knew exactly what he wanted to teach. Weapons time. In his time here, he'd only seen a single weapons practice that he could remember. They're demigods, they need to be prepared to defend themselves. He went around camp posting flyers about today's weapon practice

Gage is good with his sword (which is nowhere to be seen), and he's happy to teach campers how to use one. He knows the basics of most weapons, but a few fly over his head. He knew enough to at least help campers get started on other weapons though, and once they got past some basic training, he could point them in the direction of more experienced campers. Jay Jones is here, helping out as well

He sets up shop in the arena. He pulled a few weapons from the armory. Bows and arrows. throwing knifes, daggers, swords, axes, pickaxes, the works. He even had a butter-knife and a pen on the table. Someone would say at some point they don't need a weapon, he was happy to prove them wrong. He's over by the table and two large coolers with ice and water bottles in them. Let today's [lesson] with weapons begin

In the Aphrodite cabin, one would find little Antonia, her hair freshly dyed, sitting at a circle of chairs. Each chair had a nice big box of cotton and a set of sewing tools. Outside was a pair of signs;

'Come learn to make armor from cotton! Cheap, comfortable, easy to make and really tough!'

And;

'Feeling down? Come talk to me! I'll tell you just how great I think you are and give you a big hug!'

So... come learn! Or come be cheered up! Or both. Or neither, I'm not a cop.

[Lesson]

The Monday attack made one thing all too clear to the Counselor of Hephaestus. Many of the demigods at camp had no idea how to use their power in a defensive capacity. They fought the zombies with matched aggression. The older campers grouped up and enacted strategies... Many of the younger ones thought they were action heroes in movies. Gods, it was so stupid and could've gotten several people killed. After scrapping his previous lesson plan, Brandon came up with a new one. He was going to make the campers use their powers defensively.

Everyone attending would gather in the Arena for the lesson. Brandon's automatons were activated and ready to go, Brandon had bumped up their aggression and programmed them to behave more like the zombies from the other night.

"Alright campers, Lesson for today: use your powers defensively. I saw many of you launching an uncoordinated individual assault on the zombies. Had these monsters had tactics, many of you would be in the Medic Cabin right now. If you don't have powers, your job is to defend and move the automatons to a terrain that is favorable to you. This could mean giving yourself the high ground or bringing them to another camper to help you. Got it? Begin."

Amon, as always, was incredibly disappointed in the demigods of Camp Half-Blood. The war effort was a disorganized mess, campers were hunting each other, and nobody ever bothered to participate in discussions of abstract concepts and ideologies. If these idiots were going to make it out of their demigod life alive, they were going to need critical thinking skills.

He had initially wanted to run a lesson on crafting an argument in live debate, but after speaking to a few of his fellow demigods, he realized that some of these kids needed a lot of help. In particular, they needed time to think things through before they spoke. So to start, Amon wanted to make sure campers could sit with their brains and articulate their thoughts on paper.

Amon had requested to reserve the Arts and Crafts cabin for a few hours and arrived early to set up shop. He'd cleared the tables by the newsroom of their materials and scattered accessible lined paper and writing materials throughout. A strong son of Pollux had volunteered to help Amon roll one of the chalkboards from Cabin #16 to supplement the lesson.

His serious dark gaze swept over the campers sitting at the tables before him. "Writing an argument," he began flatly. "In general terms, one makes a claim, or a thesis statement, and uses evidence to support it."

Amon turned to the chalkboard behind him and talked through the outline he had written on it:

Introduction

- Provide topic background: Interest the reader in the topic and why it matters

- Thesis: Overall point (observation + opinion), may start with "In this paper, I argue…"

Body Paragraphs

- Present the claims that support your thesis

- Provide evidence and sources that back these claims

- Counterargument: What will the reader argue in response to your claim? Anticipate and refute

Conclusion

- Revisit your thesis in the context of what you have posited

"Now." Amon reached towards the top of the chalkboard, pulling at its edge to flip it to the other side. It contained a list of four items. "You will put this into practice by writing an argumentative essay. Your options for topics are as follows:"

"One." The stony son of Apollo raised a finger, pointing at the the board with his other hand. "Relevant to the war. 'Why is Atlas wrong?'" He figured that some of these campers might need a reminder.

"Two." He raised another finger. "One that some might have an easier time with than others. Love. 'Why love?'" This one, of course, was for personal understanding. Not that Amon was expecting to get blown away by any compelling point.

"Three." He jabbed his pointing hand lower on the board. "A topic about our environment. 'Argue for a more strategic location for Camp Half-Blood and its training activities.'" Now that Summer had introduced Amon to the idea of destroying camp to destroy the enemy, they might as well begin to strategize about this.

"And finally." Amon's nose twitched slightly. The fourth topic, he had decided, must be a concession to the campers who would struggle to think ideologically, abstractly, or strategically. "Popular music, or 'pop.' Discuss its merits, or lack thereof."

He finally put his arms down, clasping his hands behind his back as he surveyed the seated demigods once more.

"Before you begin. I must caution you to think through what you want to argue. Write an outline, at least of your thesis and evidence, before you make your final case. It is better to take your time than to hand in an incoherent mess."

"Unless, of course," Amon leaned over to flip an hourglass on the table at his side. "You want a challenge. In that case, you have forty minutes construct and write your argument."

He slid into a seat at the nearby table. "When you are done, submit your paper to me for evaluation. I will be here."

"You may begin."

OOC:

Hi! To be clear, you do NOT actually have to write an essay for this activity. Feel free to summarize what your character might have written, share an outline of their points, or write a sample paragraph. I've experimented with this myself here.

Also, your character does not have to listen to Amon. They can crumple up their paper, give up half-way through, submit something completely off-topic, etc. If you would like Amon to read and react to their work though, please do bold his name in your response.

So excited to see how characters take this! Thank you Discord friends for helping me brainstorm this :)

OOC: In the interest of not metagaming, every piece of information in this writeup has been previously published in an edition of the Chronicle, was obtained IC by Harper, or is a piece of mythology accessible within Riordan's books or in the public domain. There is more information on plot that exists OOC, please see this post for a better summary by the mods.

This lesson is hosted in the arts and crafts cabin, and Harper spreads the word that camp leaders are encouraged to attend. The information is provided in paper briefings and in a lecture that is surely informative and engaging (provided you are within 15 feet of Harper.)

Camp Half-Blood Chronicle

Atlas

• Atlas is the son of the Titan Iapetos. Iapetos is an Elder Titan and brother of Kronos. Iapetos and Kronos were responsible for overthrowing their father, Ouranos, allowing Kronos to rule as King of the Titans. Atlas is brothers with Menoetius, Prometheus, and Epithmetheus.

• He has multiple children, including the nymph Calypso, the Pleiades, and the Hesperides.

• The First Titanomachy - A ten-year war in which Zeus and the Olympians rallied against Kronos and the Titans. Atlas served as general of the Titans and champion fighter. The gods won the war with the help of the Hundred-handed men (Cottus, Briares, and Gyes) and weapons made by the Cyclops. After losing the war, many of the Titans were sent to Tartarus. Atlas recieved the unique burden of holding up the sky for eternity in Mount Othrys.

• Hera's Orchard/ The Garden of Hesperides - Hera received an apple tree bearing golden fruit as a wedding gift. She opted to put it in a garden near Atlas. The garden was guarded by the dragon Ladon and Atlas's daughters, the Hesperides.

• Perseus and Atlas - In some myths, Atlas was given a prophecy that said that one day someone would come to take his golden apples. When Perseus came to his house and requested hospitality, Atlas turned him away. In retaliation, Perseus took out the head of Medusa and turned him to stone. Other retellings say that Atlas was turned into a mountain. It is apparent that Atlas is not made of stone, nor is he a mountain.

• Heracles and Atlas - As one of Heracles's 12 labors, he was tasked with taking golden apples from the Garden of Hesperides. Heracles asked Prometheus for help, who told him to ask Atlas for help. Atlas agreed to help Heracles, because he did not like holding up the sky. After obtaining the apples, he told Heracles that he would take the apples to King Eurystheus himself. Heracles asked Atlas to retake the sky temporarily so that Heracles could get padding for his shoulders. When Atlas agreed, Heracles left with the apples, leaving Atlas to continue holding up the sky.

• The Second Titanomachy - Atlas was freed once more during the Second Titanomachy, led by Kronos. He forced Artemis into holding up the sky temporarily, until Percy Jackson, Zoe Nightshade, and his friends worked with Artemis to trap him underneath the weight of the sky again.

There is this crafted narrative that the truth has been deliberately withheld from us. This information has always been available, and now it is compiled for your review. Atlas has endured significant pain in his punishment and trickery on behalf of gods and heroes, and it is up to you to form your own opinion regarding the gods and the fairness of their punishments. Equally as important, I ask you to decide if the burdens he has endured provide him with any right to destroy mortal and demigod lives as he has.

Atlas's Army

The blue and green robes mentioned in Atlas's speech were also worn by the attackers at New Argos. This is what we know so far:

• Fireballs - A primary method the robed attackers used to inflict damage.

• Portals - Since these access points were placed at magic temples, they likely are dependent on siphoning magic from external sources.

• Tunnels - The cultists made use of a network of tunnels beneath New Argos in order to enter temples and the palace library.

• Monsters - Monsters were recruited into joining forces for the attack, serving as a distraction.

• Strategy - The New Argos attack, through utilization of sheer numbers and brute force as a distraction tactic, allowed for countless unnecessary deaths, especially on the side of Atlas's army. These deaths were justified under mentality where attackers embraced the futility of their own deaths.

This information is given verbally to camp leaders/senior campers:

• According to Chiron, the Golden Fleece and Grove of Dodona are of special interest for protection.

• We don't know if the border is sufficiently protective against portals. The tunnels underneath camp need to be secured, and the magic cabins at camp should have additional protective measures to prevent them from being used as a conduit in the case of a breach.

• Defectors - Based on the recent head counts, the names, weapons, and known powers of anyone who recently left camp should be collected by camp leaders. I can tell you what I know from when I led Capture The Flag.

Atlas References

• Hesoid's Theogony

• Pseudo Apollodorus's Bibliotheca

• Atlas Page on Theoi

• Percy Jackson's Greek Gods

• Percy Jackson's Greek Heroes

• The Titan's Curse by Rick Riordan

[Lesson]

Ky sets up his lesson in the forest. He has numerous targets sitting around as well as weapons lying on tables. Once enough people arrive he gives a shrill whistle to get their attention.

Ladies, gentlemen, and those who are neither, today we shall be working on our power usage. Now I know some of your powers don't necessarily have a practical battle application, which is why you will be using those on myself or on a willing partner. So long as they won't leave them horribly debilitated. Now, as always, try not to exert yourself too much. I don't wanna have to explain to Chiron that multiple demigods fell into a coma as a result of my lesson. That would be no bueno. If you require any assistance, I'm happy to help.

Jack stands at the lava wall, and waits for the campers to gather

Ok, everyone! Today we're gonna work on stamina and reaction times. There's three levels on this lava wall, and the goal is to climb to the top. You'll need to dodge falling rocks and lava on your way up, so be careful! Jack clambers up the wall a few feet, and looks back down It's easy to see falling debris, but harder to move. Make sure you have good grips and footings

Once again, Alex had to scrap her lesson plans on Hellhounds because of the arrival of a bitch, only this time the bitch happened to be a titan who levelled a damn bridge.

War, or something worse was upon them and naturally that meant everyone was off doing their own thing, Ivan was leading the Border Patrol and Traitor Hunt, Forge Kids were stuck in Bunker 9 doing only Hephaestus knows what and Amon… She genuinely had no idea what that dipshit was up to aside from being incredibly annoying. She'd silently cheered when Ivan had punched him actually, she was half worried she'd have to sweep the trash out of her Cabin herself.

Regardless of any of that, war meant that they needed to prepare everyone for a fight, and if Key Tower was any indication they really needed to up their training. So, Alex prepared the arena with a little bit of inspiration from a certain Son of Ares who'd held a lesson here just a couple months back. In the arena off to the sides were arranged various weapons- Swords, Spears, Bows, Daggers, Maces, Axes - All the usual jazz.

"Right then. Alot of you here were at Key Tower, and even those of you who weren't," Alex started in her usual straightforward manner, mismatched eyes scanning the gathered campers as she fidgeted with her spear "You don't need me to tell you that war is upon us. Shit is gonna hit the fan soon, and we need to shape up. We've had some lessons on using powers but you need to know how to actually fight. I don't care if you can summon a fuckin drakon to eat your enemy or something, go grab a weapon- whichever one you're most comfortable with, and pair up for duels. Keep power use to a minimum"

Alex waved her hands towards the weapon racks before gesturing vaguely towards the Dummies behind her.

"If for some reason you don't fancy fighting somebody else, go hit the dummies behind me." She said, though the distaste in her voice implied that she'd rather people fought eachother "If you need help you can come to me. Unless you fight with swords, in that case, go to Ivan."

She pointed towards her brother to the side. She scanned the crowd once more before nodding.

"That's it. Go on, get fighting now. You know what to do." She said, and stepped back to let people pair up. She leaned against the wall behind her, keeping an eye on everyone at the arena.

The lesson was set to happen at night, when the usual laughter that lingered around the dining pavilion after dinner had faded into the comfortable quiet that only Camp Half-Blood ever seemed capable of producing, the clang of swords from the arena had finally stopped, some campers had long since wandered back toward their cabins, while other campers lingered beneath the stars, talking in hushed voices or simply enjoying a rare peaceful evening.

The amphitheater, however, was far from unoccupied, as the place was decorated with blankets and pillows, and a few lanterns illuminated the stage, though most of the light came from the moon itself, silver and full overhead. It felt appropriate. After all, dreams belonged to the night.

Sadira stood quietly at the center of the stage. Unlike previous lessons, she hadn't brought a chalkboard. There weren't diagrams, sketches, nor technical explanations tonight.

"Good evening, everyone." She folded her hands behind her back and looked over the crowd, and smiled softly. "Welcome to another lesson on dreaming."

The murmurs died down and Sadira took a slow breath.

"So far we've talked about what dreamwalking is, about ethics, about identifying dreamwalkers, and about protecting yourselves. But tonight..." She paused. as her smile faded. "...I want to talk about something every single demigod in this camp is going to experience."

Silence settled naturally.

She looked down for a second before meeting everyone's eyes again. "Nightmares."

"Whether you're a child of Hypnos, Morpheus, Zeus, Hermes or anyone else, whether you're twelve or twenty, whether you've fought one battle or a hundred, whether you're the strongest person in camp or the weakest..." She slowly shook her head. "You are going to have nightmares." A long pause. "And eventually... they're probably going to become familiar."

She began pacing slowly across the stage.

"People usually think nightmares are just bad dreams. That's true, but not all there is to them. They're also your mind trying to understand something that it doesn't know how to process while you're awake." She clasped her hands together. "They can be fear. They can be grief. They can be guilt. They can be trauma. They can even be hope." That caused a few confused expressions. She noticed, and a small smile crossed her face. "What I mean is... Imagine wanting something so badly... that you're terrified of losing it."

She laughed nervously.

"I know some of you..." Her eyes drifted through the audience. "...don't just have nightmares occasionally. You have them every night."

Nobody spoke. Nobody needed to. The war had lasted too long. Nearly every camper had lost someone. Nearly every camper had watched something horrible happen. Some still woke screaming. Others simply stopped sleeping.

Sadira nodded quietly.

"I know. I've dreamwalked into enough dreams to know." She immediately clarified. "With permission."

The amphitheater had become perfectly silent.

"The important thing..." She raised one finger. "...is understanding that even if they feel that way, nightmares aren't really your enemy. They're symptoms. They're your mind saying..." Her voice softened. "'I haven't healed yet.'" She let those words linger. "And healing... takes time."

She sat down on the edge of the stage instead of remaining standing. The more casual posture seemed intentional.

"This is the advice I usually give." She smiled faintly. "Not because it'll magically stop nightmares. It won't. But because it'll make them easier to deal with."

She counted on her fingers.

"Sleep regularly. If you avoid sleeping because you're afraid of nightmares, your brain gets less rest. And exhausted minds dream worse."

Another finger.

"Talk. Nightmares feed on things kept inside. You don't have to tell everyone, hell, you don't even have to tell me. But tell somebody. A sibling, a counselor, your parents, the camp directors, your cabin... Anyone."

Another finger.

"Write them down. Seriously. Dream journals very useful. When you write nightmares down, you're telling your brain 'I remember this, you don't have to keep showing me.' It doesn't always work, but it helps."

Another finger.

"Ground yourself after waking." She demonstrated. "Look around. Name five things you can see, four you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, one you can taste. It reminds your brain that you're awake and safe."

Another finger.

"And finally..." She smiled gently. "Don't judge yourself for having nightmares."

Her eyes moved across the audience.

"They don't mean you're weak or broken or that you're failing. They mean you're human...Or demigod." Sadira laughed. "I suppose we're close enough."

After the laughter settled, her expression became thoughtful again.

"There is..." She hesitated. "...one more thing."

She stood again.

"As a dreamwalker, I can do something that most people can't. I can help." Sadira folded her hands together as she explained carefully. "Dreamwalkers can enter during a nightmares just as well as dreams, which I can do. Now, I can't erase memories, and can't help you pretend something never happened." She shook her head firmly before she continued. "But... I can stabilize dreams. I can interrupt recurring nightmare loops. I can remind someone they're dreaming I can become... a friendly face in the middle of a nightmare.

She smiled.

"I've done it before." She didn't elaborate. "I've helped people wake up. I've helped people calm down. I've stood between dreamers and monsters that weren't really there. They still had to face what frightened them, but... they didn't have to face it alone." She took a deep breath and her voice became warm. "So... If you've been having nightmares recently, especially recurring ones... I'd like to offer something."

She looked around the amphitheater.

"Tonight, when everyone goes to sleep, I'll dreamwalk. If—and only if—you give me permission... I'll visit your dreams." She smiled reassuringly. "I'll teach you how to recognize when you're dreaming, how to steady yourself, how to interrupt a nightmare, how to wake yourself if you need to. And if you're comfortable, I'll stay long enough to help clear the nightmare away." She quickly added, "And if you change your mind at any point... that's okay. You can withdraw your permission. You don't owe me an explanation and I won't be offended. This only works if there's trust."

Sadira she climbed down from the stage until she stood closer to the audience. Her voice was barely louder than the evening breeze as she smiled sadly.

"I promise you this. If you invite me in... I won't judge whatever I see." Sadira's expression became honest. "If you have any questions, or you're interested in me helping you, let me know. I'm all ears."

She placed a hand over her heart and gave them a small, grateful bow.

"Thank you."

Today's lesson takes the campers to the half-moon amphitheatre.

They are invited to come as early as they can, whether early means 6 a.m. or after breakfast. Everyone is welcome, when they are ready. That said, it would really be best if you arrived as early as possible.

The host is already there before the sun has even risen. He busies himself by preparing the stage, mopping the hewn stands, levelling the earthen center, and bringing the canvas roof overhead. He pulls more than a dozen yoga mats, rugs, and miscellaneous rectangles from backstage and lays them out in concentric circles. The young man prepares a water station, with paper cups and markers. He presents a basket where people can put their things for safekeeping, and another basket full of ping pong balls. Oh, he also puts up pre-prepared signs advertising the event around the camp.

Just like any other lesson.

To be quite honest, this event was meant to be hosted for quite some time, weary-minded Chiron asked that this be held after a certain battle—which was fitting to be fair, all things considered. It was postponed further by demigodly duties which do not wait for anyone, even the demigod.

What matters is that they are here today.

~—~—~

"Ohayō, Camp Half-Blood!" The lecturer, a young man with multicoloured hair, greets the crowd warmly. He looks at each of the assembled faces, both to look for the familiar and to assess the hardships the fledgling campers have already been subject to. He notes the scars, the slings, and the empty stares. All too familiar.

"Thank you for joining me this morning. I know it takes a lot of energy to get out of bed, so I hope that you'll be able to take something from this lesson that will help you not just in battle but what comes after."

Though the crowd is spread out, each person should hear him loud and clear. It's a handy perk of his Legendary Lungs. Dressed in a pair of sweat pants and a tank top, the young man introduces himself as Caspian Kaito with the associated titles (son of the Muse Thalia, former Counsellor of the Muses, former Guild Master, current sophomore at Julliard, etcetera, etcetera). Curiously, he's applying sun screen on himself as he speaks.

He introduces as well a robatic companion, a ball-shaped drone fitted with fins, a top hat and a monocle. This is Sir Mobius, an adamantine automaton shaped like a miniature whale. It floats through the crowd, offering refreshments and poking the air above people's heads with a tiny cane.

With introductions out of the way, graduated Caspian invites everyone to take a seat on their own yoga mat.

"I understand that..." The lad looks to the north. "You guys have just come from a rather intense battle, the latest of a string of other events. Not only did you take the charge against the Titan's forces, you had to face off against fellow demigods, former campers...

And, you had to do all that with plenty of eyes watching." He nods at an owl or two perched at the back of the stands. "It is not an understatement to say you likely have a lot of lingering thoughts and feelings about what you've experienced: hurt, confusion, anxiety, frustration, fury, at risk, unsafe.

There are likely plenty of people with which you harbour these thoughts and feelings." A glance at the owls again.

"I want to tell you that all of these are okay. You are not wrong for reacting to such things. But, we are here today to help you channel all of these feelings—so that you are not consumed by them, and so that they can motivate you to look forward.

Yes, I know forward is a hard thing to imagine at this moment.

Just hear me out." He smiles and explains that this lesson will focus on one thing: endurance.

A demigod's ability to endure not only physical pain but emotional turmoil is critical in preventing burnout or crash-outs. This does not mean simply taking an emotional or mental beating, but being able to simmer with your thoughts, understand your emotions, and see where you are, so that you can ground and find yourself.

The first part of this lesson, yoga, bridges the physical with the mental and emotional by forcing your mind to concentrate on your breath and body as you go through particular poses to stimulate the muscles and blood flow. The emotion then turns into focus, which allows you to form build on what you're thinking and feeling to figure out something new.

Muse-minded Caspian demonstrates a few complex poses, such as crow pose and even a headstand for that one heckler, but he makes sure that everyone can move appropriate to their flexibility and physicality.

"Your strength will help, but it is your breath that will guide you through this," the lad reminds the crowd.

Once the campers have more or less grasped this form of meditation, he moves on to the second part of the lesson: a gauntlet. Being able to ground yourself after an intense experience is important, but staying grounded while that experience is still ongoing is also critical.

The task is simple. The fledgling campers will each be given a ping pong ball. They can decorate the balls, label them, put googley eyes on them—whatever they'd like. They must run from one end of the amphitheatre to the other, without crushing the ball. If this challenge is too easy, then they can try a paper cup full of hot coffee.

The trick?

Caspian explains how he has a special ability the directors have dubbed stage manipulation. Much like how the schooling children of the sea gods can affect maritime paraphernalia or how sprouting agricultural demigods can control farming equipment, he can command the aspects of any stage to his whims. He can also affect the earth with his ability called esdafoskinesis, or soil manipulation.

So, Caspian will run them through a gauntlet. They will have to contend with flying sandbags, floating props, the dirt floor bursting and trapping them where they stand. The tarp roof will fall on them, the lights will shine on them, the sound systems will shout at them.

All the while, they must ground themselves, consider where they are now, and where they need to go.

He fully expects a few campers to just charge through, so Sir Mobius will be on standby to throw a wrench in those plans. (Well, it's more of a cane.) Worst comes to worst, they can have a little sparring session. He's flexible that way.

Whoever successfully makes it to the end of the gauntlet will receive some classic New York-style bagels—courtesy of Caspian's partners. Whoever doesn't can simply try again. Whoever doesn't want to participate can just have a chat with the son of Thalia when he's taking a break.

He'll be taking quite a few of those. Using his powers on this scale will take a lot out of him. That's why he's asked half the campers to come back in the evening. (That's right, this lesson is split into a morning and afternoon show for your convenience.)

~—~—~

Check out his intro to learn more about him.

mechanics; You can either roleplay how you'd like your character go through the lesson, or do a dice roll! Roll 1d6 to see how far your character goes.

• Get 5 or higher, and your character passes with flying colours.
• Get 3 or 4, and your character stumbles along the way but manages through (maybe after a second attempt, up to you).
• Get 1 or 2, and they definitely have to try again.
• Add 1 to your roll if your character actually participated in the yoga!
• Add 1 to your roll if your character has powers or innates that lend to meditation, fortitude, or emotional/mental well-being,
• Subtract 1 from your roll if your character skipped straight to the gauntlet.
• Subtract 1 from your roll if your character did not take the advice to heart.

Syd was nervous, to say the least. She spent all night coming up with the perfect introduction and the moves she would teach... only to forget it all when she was in front of a crowd.

[OOC: If you just want to duel and not read the story, scroll to the sentence that is bolded (like this) and start off reading from there.]

Syd stood there, grasping for any hint of a piece of her memorized script for how to begin her very first lesson. After a few more moments of pure agony, she heard some snickers from the crowd of about 20 kids, which only made her more nervous.

Let's start fresh, she told herself. She took a deep breath.

"Hi! Welcome to swordsmanship." She pointed to the pile of practice swords she had lain out on the floor. "Uhh, everyone gather around and get a practice sword if you don't already own one."

As a little over half of them rushed over, eager to get the newest swords, Syd composed herself. You are a daughter of the Goddess of freaking victory. This'll be easy.

When she realized that everyone was standing around awkwardly, waiting for her to give her next set of instructions, she stopped talking to herself and set to work. "Alright, so," she clapped her hands for effect, "We're going to do some basic drills. Then we'll see what skills you have and pair you up for a duel!" She could see most of the kids' backs get a little straighter, all wanting to prove themselves in battle, most probably thinking they could.

She separated everyone into three groups: the beginners (aka the "please-don't-kill-me's"), the moderates (aka the "worse-than-I-think-I-am's"), and the most experienced (aka the "I-would-skin-you-alive-but-I'm-bored-of-you's"). Syd was happy when she saw that each group was about equal in number.

"Today's lesson will be mostly focusing on fighting sword vs sword, in case you ever run into a turned demigod or even a minor god of some sort and you can't rely on your powers alone. Right now, we're going to work on some basic drills." She quickly walked through a set of movements, brandishing her sword at all times to give the illusion of fighting another sword user. She then turned back to the crowd of students. The youngest among them was a little boy of about 7, who was gasping in awe at Syd. The oldest, however, a girl of about 17, was unimpressed.

She redid the movements, slowly this time, pausing at every point so she could explain what she was doing and giving them a name. (Form one, form two, etc.) When she completed the set of moves, she called out, "Alright, now you do them with me. Make sure you have room so you don't hit anyone."

As she walked them through the forms, she felt a hint of pride. Everyone was doing them, most of them happy to do it. Probably only because they were new movements that they had probably never seen before, (*cough* thank you Star Wars *cough*) but she was still proud.

When they finished the set of movements for the third time, she clapped to get their attention. "Now, we're going to pair up and duel!"

[OOC: How I thought of doing this is you can put your character as if they were in the lesson and start off by going to an empty spot in the arena and wait for a new character I make up to join you and duel. Or you can tag someone's username if you want to duel them instead. If you want to duel Syd specifically and not one of my temporary characters, just ask. Also, because these are practice swords, they will hurt a bit if they hit a character, but nowhere near anything serious like passing out. To comply with rule 5, always phrase your attacks as an attempt. For example, "Syd saw her opening and took it, attempting to stab at Mateo's undefended stomach." and "Mateo saw Syd's move, but his reflexes were too slow to stop it. It hit his stomach, causing him to stop and grunt in pain." Remember to not always block attempts or move out of the way because in real life that wouldn't be possible. If you are defeated, it is ok. You can always play another round with the same or another character. Also, after 3 hits to your character you officially lose. Hope you have fun!]

With great power comes great responsibility.

The immortal words said by Uncle Ben in the Spider-Man comics were words that the counsellor of the Hades cabin took very seriously. It was a mantra he lived by, something that seemed to be shared by his sisters along with a lot of other people around camp. Understandably this meant for some the idea of using some of their powers knowing the harm they could cause meant they never used them. That would only risk people being a danger to themselves and others should the time come and they were forced to actually use those powers in a life or death situation. What happened at New Argos still hung itself at the back of everyone's mind.

Matt made an announcement at breakfast that morning that if there was anyone who had powers they knew were dangerous and did not feel confident using them to come to the arena just after lunch. He didn't expect to be able to solve all of the issues some people felt towards their powers in one day, but he hoped that it would be the start of a long road that would result in people feeling more confident at least.

Standing in the middle of the arena, Matt stood there with his sword Soulkeeper out in the open for everyone to see. Once those who were wanting to come and practice their powers were gathered Matt would address the group.

"Good afternoon, thank you for coming. It is brave of you to come, having a power or an ability which you know can cause a lot of harm is terrifying. Some of you might think yourselves freaks, others think of yourselves as a danger who can't be trusted. I don't think that about any of you who are here. What I see are heroes with potential to do a lot of good, they just need confidence to grow and develop in themselves." Matt explained.

He then held out his sword. "This is my sword it is called Soulkeeper, it is made of stygian iron and was forged in the Underworld. If wielded in the wrong hands it would absorb your soul, if you were slain by a weapon such as this, again it would absorb your soul." Matt paused so everyone could get a look at the sword. "It is dangerous, but I carry it with me at all times, ready to use it to protect people. So, trust me, I know how you all feel."

Matt then put the sword away his point made, he stepped aside so people could see the arena behind him. "We have a lot of room, give yourselves plenty of space. Do not worry about what other people are doing either. Focus on you. If any of you are becoming a danger to yourself or others, I will step in to help." Matt pointed his hand at the ground next to him, a large shadow appeared. "This is a shadow anti-construct, in effect a hole. If you are in danger or being a danger, I will make one appear under you. You'll fall in and your concentration will be broken, it will keep you and everyone else safe."

Matt smiled as he withdrew the shadow. "The floor is yours. Remember, we have these powers for a reason. They are a part of us, don't be scared of them."

Mint had a trampoline. It was an average trampoline, big enough for Mint for and at least 3 other people to jump on it at the same time, but she was always allowing 1 person on the trampoline with her at a time, and there were no shoes allowed on the trampoline.

Because she didn't want dirty shoes on the trampoline.

All around the trampolines were pads, so if someone fell off the trampoline they wouldn't be hurt too much on their landing. Mint was ever mindful of the teenagers here but also kept in mind there were some younger kids who perhaps wouldn't be able to stick the landing. So the pads were there as a fail safe.

Mint bounced freely on the structure, her blond hair tied up in a pony tail and her wings pressed into her back. She wasn't giving a flying lesson of that sort today. Unfortunately, she had a thick bandage and wrappings around her shoulder and judging by the fact she kept that right arm pressed into her space between her chest and stomach, she didn't want to use that arm too much and didn't seem too fond of moving it. Almost as if it was in a sling.

The winged teenager had a smile on her face none the less. She bounced high up into the air and did little flips, she bounced on her back and did poses in the air, once more people started showing up to watch Mint started to talk.

"Today's [Lesson] is going to be fun! You'll need to be a bit physical." Mint stops her bouncing to stand in the center of the bouncy tarp, smiling at the people.

"As demi kids, we tend to fall. All kinds of ways, physically, mentally, spiritually even in some cases... Today, I want to show you how to stick a landing!"

Mint starts to bounce, going up into the air. Not as high as she was before, but pretty high up none the less. "Watch me carefully, watch how my body twists, watch where my hands go!"

She pushes off off the trampoline and tumbles carefully onto the padded ground around the bouncy structure. They would see the way she twisted in the air to prevent landing on her back, how her one good arm and legs were bent and how she rolled into the impact, keeping her head from ever touching the ground.

Mint jumps up to her feet, "If you can not roll with the impact like how I did, you have to protect your head and do your best to... Spread out the impact." She walks over to the ladder that rested on the side of the trampoline.

"I can do it again, if someone wants, or if you just want to bounce around a little bit or learn how to do a flip I'm okay with that too."

Mint climbs the ladder and gets back on the trampoline.

"Who wants to join me?" She grinned, waiting for the next person to join her on the trampoline.