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POEM vii.
/PERCY'S POV/
Life had been relatively normal for Percy Jackson since last summer's whole "lightning thief" fiasco. He still struggled with school and bullies, and money was tight between expenses for his tuition and mother's night classes. Still, he was content. At least, as content as he could be with Matt Sloan constantly hounding him.
He was in social studies, working on longitude/latitude maps when he opened his notebook to look at the picture inside.
It was of Icarus, sitting by the lake near the canoe cabin, the water glistening like tiny diamonds behind him. It was later in the day, dusk, the sun casting a warm aura on the boy, his chestnut colored skin glowing beneath the light .
His hair was let down, something, Percy noticed, he rarely did. It was always tied back or braided.
Still, the boy in the picture bore a great smile, eyes slanted in joy as beamed at the camera. Albatross was cradled in his lap. Percy had grown quite fond of the bird. In fact, albatross had been the one to deliver the picture to Percy.
It came with a letter, written all in ancient greek. The son of Poseidon quickly found that he could read the elder language far easier than he could english. He was appreciative of the gesture.
