Leo Goes on Vacation

With languages, if the POV-person understands it, we use "[ ]" for the translation. If the POV-person doesn't, "« »" will be used.

—oOo—

"Oh gods," Leo mutters to himself when he finally sees another monster, which Festus had detected, surfacing from the North Atlantic Ocean below them.

After the son of fire returned to Camp Half-Blood with the former immortal, Calypso, on the back of the ever familiar bronze dragon a week after his supposed death, things had gone pretty smoothly for him for a while.

His six friends were there to greet (kill) him. The other demigods cheered (hit) him when they saw him and his cabin-mates greeted him with open arms (punches). He'd never felt more loved and accepted (bruised) than he did before that day—surrounded by his very own family.

Yet, despite his return, despite his sacrifice—his death, he still found himself tinkering alone in Bunker Nine.

It had been a lonely three months, but it was a feeling which he had sadly grown used to. His friends had moved on with their lives while he was stuck in his past, wondering what to do with his own.

It was a bitter pill to swallow. It wasn't that he was all alone—though that was a part of it. It was that his friends all knew what they wanted to do.

Mist Master Hazel Levesque and Legion Praetor Frank Zhang are busy with the Twelfth Legion at Camp Jupiter. Charmspeak Master Piper McLean and Pontifex Maximus Jason Grace both went with Piper's dad, the famous Tristan McLean, to spend their school year in Los Angeles; while Greek Leader Percy Jackson and Olympus Architect Annabeth Chase continued theirs in New York.

Well, he wasn't eager to be with the last two couples since school destroys his patience and will to live, but they were still with someone… and very much happy…

Even Calypso had actual plans for her life. After Leo freed her from Ogygia, she had decided to go to school with the Oracle of Delphi, Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

It made sense for her to leave the camp since she needed time to adjust to the modern world, but if it was up to him, he wouldn't step a foot in another school again, hence why he declined their offer for him to join them.

Calypso was reluctant to leave him alone but he was also reluctant to make her stay with him—no matter how badly he needed the company. Calypso left the camp with Rachel and her dad after he assured her that he will be fine on his own.

That lie was what led him to his current predicament outside of Long Island, New York.

Not being able to withstand the loneliness and continuous pain of the previous war, as well as his accursed Fatal Flaw, he immediately went forth with his first ever rule when he finds himself in times of extreme devastation:

Run.

Although this time, it isn't permanent—he hopes. No, he's only taking a break from the depressing walls of Bunker Nine, the lack of companionship, and the silence from the other six demigods he considered his family. Not permanent. No.

It was supposed to be a peaceful break from it all but since he is Leo Valdez and everyone just loves making his life miserable, he ends up in the middle of the ocean fighting another monster that just—wouldn't—stay—DEAD.

"Why don't you just stay in Tartarus, Shrimpzilla!" Leo exclaims, remembering Percy's nickname for the beast, as he takes jars of Greek fire from his tool belt.

Quickly pulling Festus' reins to dodge another attack, he circles around the sea serpent cautiously, waiting for his golden opportunity. As it opened its mouth for another attack, he hurriedly throws the Greek fire down its throat.

Learning his lesson from his time in the Argo II, Leo pulls Festus' reins, hysterically yelling at him to fly away IMMEDIATELY just as the sea serpent bellows an almighty cry. A flash of green light erupts inside the beast and finally disintegrates it into golden ashes.

"And another one bites the dust," Leo cracks, chuckling to himself as he watches the ocean swallow the glittering remains of his beautiful sea combatant.

His throat closes up at the sudden awareness that he and Festus are alone, and nobody's there to laugh or roll their eyes at his jokes. He sighs in desolation and pats the dragon's coarse hide, smiling encouragingly—for whom, he doesn't know.

"How about that, Festus? We make a good team if I may say so myself."

As the fire-wielding duo turn to the horizon, Leo shields his face against the sunlight and wonders whether the sun and prophecy god, Apollo, is giving him a glimpse of the future: light and beautiful. He doubts it but he isn't going to let that ruin his mood.

Loudly, he declares, "Well, no one's gonna sing about my woes and feelings anyway. Onward and upward, my mighty steed! TO GREECE WE GO!"

Festus lets out a ferocious roar, making Leo grin wider than he ever had in weeks, before finally surging forward.

The other demigods he informed thought he was both crazy and an idiot for even thinking of going back to the exact place where Gaea had awaken three months ago on the first of August.

Dirt-Face may had gone back to sleep but she never left him.

As a demigod, Leo thought he'd be used to having frequent nightmares. Even before he went to Camp Half-Blood, he'd been having these weird dreams while he was running from another foster system… but his dreams are far worse now.

Instead of witnessing the present, a nearing future, or a new opponent talking about their plans to rise again, Leo had been dreaming of the past. He can't help but go back to that exact moment when he felt a momentary amount of pain followed by the feeling of complete nothingness.

It was scary to know the feeling of death.

It was blissful. It was nothing. There was no pain, no sadness, and no happiness. There was only peace. How many times had his dreams taunted him to want to go back to that exact moment? To hear his friends tell him how much he is not wanted over and over and over again? To hear his mother's cries of anguish while being engulfed in flames?

No, he needed some closure.

Going back to the place where all things were lost—to the place where his death was definitely the plan he must ensue, maybe—just maybe—he could get that peace he'd been wanting without the need for a second death.

He comes back from his musings at the whirring sound he can hear inside Festus before the said dragon clicks to communicate with his rider, albeit wearily.

—•• | • | —• | — | • | —••

"Dented? What's dented?"

—• | • | —•—• | —•—

"Oh, Styx," Leo mutters under his breath upon hearing that Festus' neck is dented—and, judging from the sound of it, is bad but, at least, not too bad.

The mechanisms that help Festus spew fire are located in the area where any dragon stores their volatile high-energy fuel—its throat. If the fuel inside Festus leaks and comes into contact with its working (heating) engines, Leo would be dying in the exact same manner as he did three months ago.

To his surprisingly rare good luck, Leo realizes that, distracted from his own self-reflection, he had not realized that there is already land below him instead of the North Atlantic Ocean. Green trees adorn the mountains of the area with further mountains being covered with snow.

"Yeah, I guess we've gone pretty far," Leo mutters, scratching his head. "This is our first pit-stop. Guess it's rest and feeding time."

With that statement, Festus flies down, and—with a light thud—lands amongst the trees beside a giant mansion that kinda looks like a castle1 (which Leo thought, he could grab supplies from)

A chateau, his inner-Annabeth tells him. Ahhh, he remembers the old days when he and Annabeth were talking about architecture and the specifics to be made for the Argo II.

Annabeth was the one he talked to the most for the whole six months he spent building the Argo II—and it's mostly just Annabeth telling him to stop slacking off and work work WORK.

He nearly killed himself making one of his best creations2 but he understands that Annabeth was going through a tough time—her boyfriend missing and all… It's not like he's someone to be worried about. He's always just alone.

He curses his ADHD for making his mind go everywhere.

Leo slides off Festus to inspect the dent. Thankfully, it wasn't bad enough to risk either of them blowing up this whole side of whatever country this is, but it is bad enough to have probably rendered some of the engines malfunctioning.

Still, it wasn't something that will make things harder for one Leo Valdez.

A quarter of an hour later, just as he was about to replace the interlocking bronze plates that covers Festus' torso, he hears voices. Leo immediately looks around to scan for monsters before noticing a glint in the corner of his eyes.

"¡Están dragones en el torneo!" a nearing voice says.

[There are dragons in the tournament!]

Festus, quiet as always, manages to hide deeper in the forest, leaving Leo behind to hide behind the nearest tree.

"¡Ni hablar!" another voice asks in amazement.

[No way!]

"¡Es verdad! ¡Lo juro!" the other defends himself.

[It's true! I swear!]

Am I in Spain? Leo thinks upon realizing that he can understand what they are saying, and it definitely doesn't sound English nor Ancient Greek.

"¿Pero dragones? ¿En la escuela? ¡¿Son tontos?!"

[But dragons? In the school? Are they morons?!]

Are they demigods? Leo asks in his brain.

He berates himself. Of course, they are. Who in the Pit of Tartarus would actually believe in dragons—much less in a school—except fellow demigods?

"Hey!" he greets, walking out from behind the tree.

In an instant, he is facing two sticks pointing right at him—one at his forehead and one at his heart.

"Whoa, whoa, chill!" Leo says in surprise.

The two boys are wearing grey and pale blue suits underneath robes that make them look like Jedis—if a Jedi wears pale blue robes rather than dark brown ones.

"Qui es-tu?!" the taller boy with a scar on his eyebrow—the one pointing the piece of stick between his eyes—practically yells at him. "Parler!"

«Who are you?!» «Speak!»

Leo's brows furrow at the boy's words. That did not sound Spanish at all.

If Piper was there, she would have easily told him that the boy was asking who he was and had yelled at him to speak. Unfortunately for Leo, he's all alone. Even Festus isn't with him at the moment—hiding amongst the trees.

"Bro, I don't know what you just said," Leo admits, raising his hands up in surrender. "I'm not going to hurt you or whatever…"

"El es americano," the smaller boy who has a few freckles—the one pointing a stick on his chest—whispers to the boy behind him.

[He's American.]

"¡No soy idiota!" Scar-Man murmurs exasperatedly through gritted teeth—making Freckle-Boy roll his eyes for the nth time that day.

[I'm not an idiot!]

"¡Sí, sí! ¡Soy americano! Soy mexicano americano… y tejano… de los Estados Unidos… Well, I'm actually living in New York now but I don't think you care much about—er—lo siento; ADHD…"

[Yes, yes! I'm American! I'm Mexican American… and Texan… from the United States…][Sorry; ADHD...]

"¿Cómo te llama?" Scar-Man asks firmly, digging the branch on his forehead just as Freckle-Boy's branch touches his chest.

[What's your name?]

Leo knows better than anyone that he shouldn't underestimate whatever it is being used as a weapon—especially seemingly harmless-looking ones… and these sticks are definitely weapons in the eyes of these two blue-clad boys.

"Leo…" he responds, nearly introducing himself as the Super-Sized McShizzle but the two both look like they'd kill him on the spot if he dared to crack a joke.

"What do you want?" Scar-Man growls, digging the stick deeper, making Leo flinch at the contact despite it not looking threatening. Scar-Man's murderous glare definitely makes up for that.

"¡Nada! ¡Nada! I swear! I'm just passing by! I'm a traveller!" Leo says, unconsciously returning to his accent which he hadn't used since he was little.

[Nothing! Nothing!]

Scar-Man turns to Freckle-Boy. "Peut-être qu'il est un Moldu."

«Maybe he's a Muggle.»

"¿Qué estás haciendo?" Freckle-Boy asks in confusion. "¿Por qué hablar en francés?"

[What are you doing? Why speak in French?]

Oh, so it was French. If only Piper was—he stops his thought process before he falls down that rabbit hole again.

"Porque," Leo interrupts, "no entiendo francés."

[Because, I don't understand French.]

They glare at him.

"¿Eres los dos fresas?" he asks jokingly before he could stop himself.

[Are you two rich-kids?]

Leo watches as the two boys scrunch their brows in confusion.

"¿Solo dijo fresas?" Freckle-Boy asks Scar-Man.

[Did he just say strawberries?]

"Yeah, you know… rich-kids?" Leo says awkwardly.

"Fresas mean strawberries," Freckle-Boy says before his eyes widen in realization. "Oh mes dieux! You are Mexican! Not Spanish!"

«Oh my gods!»

"Ahhh, yes, soy latino," Leo says. "English, then? Before I call you strawberries again?… and can you stop pointing whatever-that-is at me?"

"Not until we find out who you are," Scar-Man hisses.

Leo feels he should not call Scar-Man and Freckle-Boy as is unless he wants to waste his new life by dying in their hands.

"What about you? I didn't get your names." The two glance at each other. "I'm not gonna do anything! Just common courtesy, you know? I mean, I did just tell you my name. You don't want to be rude and all, right?"

A pause. "I'm Enrique,"3 Scar-Man finally replies, lowering the stick but still gripping it by his side. "This is my brother, Pablo,"4 he adds, gesturing to Freckle-Boy who also lowers his branch after a few beats

"Right…" Leo says. "Can I ask… where I am?"

"You don't know?" Scar-M—Enrique asks in confusion.

"Well, I'm either in Spain or France, that's for sure… I think? Maybe? Am I?"

"How can you not know that—?"

"I told you. I'm a traveller. I'm just resting right now… I never really intended to land here, you know," Leo informs them.

"Estás en Francia," Pablo tells Leo, turning he addresses his older brother once more. "Comment savons-nous qu'il est un Moldu?"

[You're in France.]

«How do we know he's a Muggle?»

Leo bites his tongue before commenting on how rude it is to speak another language in front of him.

Deciding that he's spent too much time here already, he decides to ask, "Look, I just want to ask about the dragons. You were talking about dragons in a school?"

"Why?" Pablo asks.

"What…?" Leo stops.

Styx, what if they aren't demigods? Then again, they did just threaten me with a stick… like it's their sword or whatever. I mean, Percy's sword is a pen, and Jason's is a freaking coin. Mortals wouldn't threaten me with sticks, would they?

"Are you… half-bloods?" he asks instead because it won't be that suspicious to mortals, albeit a bit weird question.

With that question, he sees the two look at each other once more and grip their hold on those branches once more.

"Yes, we are," Enrique says. "Why? Do you have a problem with half-bloods?"

"What?! No! I'm a half-blood, too!" Leo says, relaxing a bit. "I didn't know there are people like us in Europe!" As an afterthought, he murmurs, "Then again, we didn't know Camp Jupiter existed before either. Wait, hold on, one of my half-brothers started the Great Fire of London…5 Great fire and destruction…" Shaking his head to clear it, he asks, "So who's your parent?"

Enrique looks at Leo oddly before saying, "Our mother is a pureblood. Our father is a Muggle."

"What's a Muggle?" Leo asks in confusion. "Oh, is that how you call mortals?"

"…yes…?" Pablo turns to Enrique. "Tous les Américains ont-ils des préjugés?"

«Are all Americans prejudiced?»

"Je sais pas," Enrique answers, shrugging.

«I dunno.»

"Look, you two gotta stop talking in French in front of me. It's kinda rude, you know?" Leo says with a sigh. "I just want to know where the dragons are."

"Are you a dragonologist?" Pablo asks.

Thinking about Festus, Leo decides to answer, "Er… yes?"

"Then why aren't you at Romania?" Enrique inquires suspiciously.

One thing Leo Valdez had always been good at: lying. He isn't proud of it but one does all he can to survive the streets. He would have died a million times already from the amount of interactions he had with gangs if he wasn't… charming enough for them to keep. One more perk of being the jokester.

"Oh, er, I'm one of the travelling ones… I told you," he replies.

"And you're old enough to work there?" Enrique asks skeptically.

The fact that he was questioned for his age… "I'm the youngest recruit," he lies smoothly. "I'm kind of natural with dragons. I never get burned."

None were lies. Hazel was born in the 1940's so he's, by year, the youngest of the Seven Demigods; he was natural with Festus; and he is fire-proof.

"So, why are you wearing…" he starts to ask, gesturing at their clothing.

"This is our uniform," Pablo replies.

"Your school teaches you the Force, then?" he jokes but neither of them seem to make the Star Wars reference so he clears his throat awkwardly.

"No, our school teaches magic," Pablo says, looking at Leo as if he's an idiot.

"Hecate made a school for magic?" Leo asks them. "Dude, that is so cool!"

"Hecate? Who's Hec—Look, we don't know about the school's origin but it's been here since around the 1290's," Enrique replies

Leo whistles. "There must have been thousands of students learning magic."

"Why does this surprise you? Aren't you a wizard, too?" Enrique asks.

Leo notices that the two boys seem to grip their sticks tighter and both have the stance a fighter has before attacking. He has to tread lightly.

Wizards? Not knowing who Hecate, the goddess of freaking MAGIC, is? Weirded out by the word mortals?! Oh Styx, they're not demigods, are they? The sticks… Magic… Robes… Holy Hephaestus… Wizards… are real?

Wait, who am I to judge? I'm a freaking demigod who has fire powers. They're probably descendants of Hecate or something…

"I am… " Leo lies calmly. "Look."

He opens up his hand, letting a small flame come out of his palm—like a small heartbeat, and making it dance across his palm. He smiles at the sight. To think that he now has full control of his powers, it's pretty amazing, really, how far he'd come.

"You can do wandless magic?!" the two both cry out in amazement.

Judging from the amazed tone, Leo could manage to keep his lie from before. "Er, yeah—I told you: I'm one of the advanced students… Got a job early and I'm really good with fire… Hence, the dragon… thing…"

He puts the fire on his palm out and relaxes when the two finally loosen their grip on their branche—wands.

"Does Ilvermorny teach all students wandless magic?" Pablo asks.

"Ilver—what?" Leo asks.

"Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Enrique replies tensely. "Isn't that where you Americans go to school?"

"Oh yeah, right, sorry, didn't hear you…" he replies. "So… as a… representative of the Romanian Dragonologist thing—"

"Aren't you called the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary?" Enrique asks.

"Look, man, I'm new to the job, and though I love dragons, I'm not really all-knowing about all this stuff," he lies fluidly, acting nonchalant.

Rule One To Lying: Bad liars are always nervous when they don't have an answer to a question. Act stupid. You get to be more believable.

"So they do teach you wandless magic at Ilvermorny?" Enrique asks.

He manages not to look as panicked as he feels since he has no idea what he's even doing anymore but he can put pieces together.

Okay, what do I know? Wizards are real… I got to ask Annabeth and Chiron about this but that might take a while since—wait, off topic.

(1) Okay, wizards are real… but probably descendants of Hecate.

(2) They have schools all over the world to teach magic.

(3) There's a magic school in America called Ilvermorny which I gotta check out one day with Hazel and the others… but they don't seem to know much about the school so I can just use Camp Half-Blood as basis.

(4) They use actual magic wands.

(5) Not using wands are cool and rare… which means, I can still use my powers but I will hog the spotlight if I do.

(6) They actually WEAR robes… like legitimate robes. Boy, do I want some robes, too. It looks so awesome!

(7) I don't think they believe in Ancient Greek "myths" as much as we do but they are aware of it. Burnt-out belief to them, I'm guessing.

(8) They have a sanctuary for dragons in Romania… which is sooo cool and I have to go there IMMEDIATELY. Screw Greece.

(9) How do I keep the lie?

With a sigh, he tells them. "No, I'm a special case," he replies. "First one who can actually use fire without—er—help." He scratches the back of his head as he thinks more. "I have siblings and friends still in Cam—er—school but I was allowed to leave to have fun with dragons in Europe."

Technically, again, they aren't lies. He is a special case; he is the first one after centuries to use fire without using rocks or lighters or whatever; he does have siblings; his friends are in school; and he was allowed to leave and have fun with Festus, a dragon, in Europe.

It's scary how good he is at lying but he has been doing it all his life.

"Anyway, I got lost while travelling so you told me about dragons in a school?"

"Yeah, at Hogwarts—the school up in Britain, but they're only bringing four of them there for the Tournament," Pablo replies in excitement.

"What Tournament?"

"The Triwizard Tournament?" Leo can practically hear the duh, don't be stupid, you idiot, after Enrique's words.

"We don't have those in America… I don't think," Leo replies. Not a lie. They have Chariot Races, Demigod Trials, and other weird dangerous things but he definitely hasn't heard of a Triwizard Tournament.

"Right…" Enrique says, believing him. "Yes, some of the students are actually going there tonight… but we're not old enough for the Tournament."

"Wait, what school are you in again? I don't really know European Wizard Schools," Leo asks for more information, keeping an easy smile on his face.

"Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons," Enrique replies. "Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in English."

"I heard there are hundreds of dragons kept in Romania, is that true?" Pablo interrupts them and Leo blinks for a few moments before replying.

"I haven't really counted them but there are definitely more than you can count," he replies.

He is both impressed and ashamed of how good he is at lying. Then again, he needs information and he doesn't want to be blasted off with a magic wand although that would probably be the coolest thing ever.

"Speaking of Romania," Leo starts, "I better go… Get trained at the Romanian Dragon Sanctuary… and—er—don't want to miss the Tournament." Whatever a Tournament is, anyway.

"How are you—" they ask before Leo walks over to them and snaps his fingers in front of them.

"You are not going to follow me."

When the two boys blink, they only see a bronze glint in the sky, unknowing that there is a demigod out there, heading towards Romania.