Demigods of Every Order

Ting stripped off her armor furiously, metal plates hitting the floor of the Third Cohort barracks with a loud series of clangs. Shreya tried to pat her on the arm reassuringly, but her sister threw off her arm. “I hate that guy.” The Chinese-American girl said, brushing her short black locks back from her forehead ineffectually, leaving a black grease smudge on her face. “Even when they lose, he has this nasty-” her plumed helmet slammed into the wall and landed on her bed “-smug-” Bang “-little-” Clang “grin on his stupid face. I just want to punch him in the face all the time, but especially on days like

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?”   Caelan rolled his eyes at his brother’s question. He should think the answer was obvious, considering it was the third time he’d asked just today. He didn’t respond curtly, though. Even a year into it, Jamie wasn’t taking very well to being homeless. Cae hadn’t expected it to be so hard, either. He had thought it would be simple. Just take some supplies with them and steal whatever little food they might need. How hard could it be? Turned out, very hard.   The first night, they’d slept outside in a deserted alley, and Cae had woken up

“What’s your name, little boy?” The policewoman crouching in front of Caelan was smiling at him, but it was a fake smile. Caelan was good at reading faces.   “I’m Caelan.” He said, shortly, expression utterly calm.   “Well, Caelan. You don’t have to worry about a thing. We’re going to take good care of you and your brother, okay?”   The eight-year-old wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be worried about, but he said, “Okay,” anyways, and left it at that. Mother had never liked it when he’d asked too many questions. Mother was dead, but who knew, maybe this lady would be just like her. He held

Six years old was young to be witness to a crime. Apparently too young for anyone to listen when you told them that your dad had been killed protecting you from a man who hadn’t had a head. His eyes had been set into his chest, and he’d been looking at them through a cloak, which she thought was rather inconvenient for him, which was why she’d remembered it so clearly, but not a soul believed her. Standing at his funeral, not knowing what was about to happen next, Bellanca shivered and looked around her at the small gathering who had made it. Even as small as she was, a

Ren walked out of his fourth period class, holding a heavy-looking bag and talking to a girl with mousy brown hair and a lot of pimples on her face. She wasn’t the stereotypical ugly nerd girl, but she wasn’t particularly attractive either. He walked her to her locker where she took the bag, which was obviously hers. After saying a quick goodbye, he went over to the table he and his friends usually met up at for lunch. A good friend of his, a freckled redhead wearing a beanie and a black “I’m sexy and I know it” T-shirt came over to him and sat down with a heavy, dramatic

“Mom. I’m home.” Ren called from the doorway.   “Welcome back.” Her voice came softly from inside the kitchen. It was accompanied by a muffled scream that sounded like “help!” and was definitely not his mother’s voice. Ren didn’t let that bother him, he took off his shoes at the entrance just like any other day and walked into the combined, kitchen-living room-dining area, dropping his backpack into the couch. His mom was in the kitchen preparing dinner, though usually she was mostly done by the time he got home. The reason for her delay was obvious. There was a guy tied up in a chair with a gag stuffed