A few weeks of construction was enough for Tekto and the automatons to finish constructing the central hearth; they had moved onto using one of the sunburst paths to lead to the camp, a place reminiscent of camp half-blood, one that was to train demigods.
The dryads Lucas invited to help, were currently underway growing and tending to the plants around the hearth, the leader he had come to know as Eucolonia, was focusing on the herbs and flowers that represented the deities while her siblings focused on the normal flowers and vines, not just around the hearth but also the cabins.
Tekto had already begun work on the camp itself. Annabeth's designs called for unique cabins, each tailored to a specific god and spacious enough to grant demigods both privacy and the comfort of their siblings.
Currently only three Cabins had been built, one for Hecate, one for Nemesis and one for Hestia. The fourth was planned to be built for Hades.
Hecate's cabin was a square building, walls of smooth obsidian that were cool to the touch. Each of the four walls had their own door, one facing each cardinal direction. Above each was an arch of polished silver inlaid with symbols sacred to Hecate, no two archways were the same.
The walls, though smooth, were not finished. Hecate expected each camper who would live inside to place a curse upon a brick, etched by hand. Lucas' had been the first: a curse that would cause blue witchfire to burn the eyebrows off anyone within five hundred meters of his brick, should it ever fall and strike the earth. The brick now rested quietly in the southern wall, humming faintly with impatience.
Inside, the air was still but heavy with magic. The ceiling stretched high and slanted upward to the center, where constellations swirled across a dome of enchanted night, real, shifting star patterns that moved in ways sky maps did not always explain.
At each corner of the room, torches burned with green-blue witchfire, shedding no heat but illuminating the chamber in soft, flickering light. The flames never dimmed, though they sometimes pulsed in rhythm with the thoughts or emotions of those inside.
Bunks were arranged in no clear pattern, left open to the whims and the will of the campers. Each bed had heavy velvet curtains that could be drawn fully. The air smelled faintly of jasmine, ink, and old smoke thanks to some wards Lucas included, but that can be changed at will.
Hestia's cabin was the only one built without a lock. Its doors were wide and welcoming, carved from rich olive wood and decorated with simple carvings of grain, fire, and fruiting branches. The walls were made of sun-warmed clay brick and soft golden limestone, sturdy and calm.
Instead of sharp lines, the roof was gently sloped, overgrown with flowering vines and creeping thyme. Bees sometimes drifted between the blooms, and birds occasionally nested in the eaves. Smoke rose from a central chimney, always scented to smell like spiced bread, pine resin or applewood.
Inside, the air was warm and quiet. The cabin formed a wide circular room around a low firepit of river stones, the flame slow-burning and steady. No magic flickered in the fire, it was powered by Hestia and brought a peace that could not be broken. It was planned that campers shared their own blankets, quilts, or heirlooms, placing them in shared chests for others to use afterwards. Any demigod was welcome to rest here, so long as they brought no conflict with them.
Nemesis' cabin was built as a clean-lined, rectangular structure of pale stone and deep black marble, arranged in balanced layers as though the walls themselves had been weighed and measured. Though simple in shape, it had a quiet grandeur.
A pair of twin doors marked the entrance, each identical in shape but opposite in material, one light, one dark. Above them was a bronze scale, etched into the cabin, which tilted gently from time to time. Lucas didn't know what it responded to as Nemesis refused to tell him.
Inside, the main hall opened into a wide space with a vaulted ceiling supported by slim silver columns. Unlike other cabins, the bunks were not randomly scattered; they were arranged in mirrored pairs along either side, each with the same number of drawers, the same woven bedding, and a small personal shelf above them. The shelf bore no nameplate, only a carved emblem of the occupant's choosing, a quiet allowance for identity, so long as it didn't overstep fairness. Nemesis encouraged strictness in her children while still giving them freedom, a philosophy that required a great sense of balance, one which she embodied.
Though the space was austere, it was not lifeless. The walls bore subtle murals of justice served: Narcissus drowning in his own reflection, King Midas weeping over his golden daughter and figures once wronged rising to reclaim their dignity. Each was etched in soft grayscale, their expressions not triumphant, but calm.
The foundation had been laid for Hades' cabin, but even in its unfinished state, it stood apart. A low, square footprint of dark basalt had been carved directly into the ground itself, not raised atop it. The flagstones shimmered faintly with veins of gold and silver, of precious ore in natural patterns, untouched by any chisel.
Lucas had seen the architectural sketches left behind: thick columns shaped like skeletal trees, a sunken main floor surrounded by lanterns of soul-light, and a domed ceiling painted with depictions of the underworld. There would be three steps leading down into the cabin, symbolizing the descent into the underworld. It was expected that the interior would be quiet, cool, and eternally still.
It was a start, a step towards their plan of a home for all demigods, and watching the detail and care put into the cabins, Lucas knew it would one day come to fruition.