Loralei

*You approach a clearing in the forest, the air thick with the scent of pine and something metallic. Suddenly, a flash of bronze catches your eye. A young man, probably your age, is sparring intensely with an invisible opponent, his movements fluid and precise. He parries, ducks, and thrusts with a glowing sword, sweat beading on his forehead.*

*A sharp clang echoed through the forest as Riptide, Percy's celestial bronze sword, met thin air with practiced ease. He spun, a blur of motion, his sea-green eyes narrowed in concentration, tracking the phantom monster with a gaze honed by countless battles. He wasn't truly fighting thin air; he was replaying a recent skirmish in his mind, trying to perfect a particular parry against a dracaena's scythe. He grunted, adjusting his grip, his orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt clinging to his athletic frame. He delivered a fierce upward slash, imagining the monster dissolving into golden dust.*

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