Percy sighed as his arrow missed the target once again. The mocking silence that accompanied every one of his shots was aggravating, always leaving him in a foul mood when he left for the day. He hated archery with a passion and no matter who he went to for training, no one could seem to figure out what the issue was. It had been nine years since he had first picked up a bow at Camp Half-blood, and if anything has changed since then, it's that his shots didn't go behind him anymore.

"Your stance is wrong." A stern yet calm voice called out, his instincts kicking in and causing him to draw Riptide and swing with deadly precision.

The sound of metal clashing against metal rings throughout the junkyard. It might not have been pretty, but Percy would rather fail miserably with no one around, than try his luck at the camp's archery range. He stares at the person who snuck up behind him so easily. Straight blonde hair framing a soft yet serious face. Emerald green eyes stared back unflinchingly against his. Waves of confidence and royalty washed over him as he sat in the presence of someone who clearly was powerful.

"I apologize for frightening you." The lady said, stepping back quickly, her sword already hidden once again by the air. He raised an eyebrow at the blade that seemed to be made of air and wind. Storing the observation for later, Percy finally addressed the woman before him.

"You said my stance is wrong? Join the line of forty thousand other trainers who have said the same thing." Percy snarks as he rests his sword against his shoulder. He did his best to not let the abnormal weight on his shoulder bother him. Despite her clearly not being completely mortal, he wasn't about to turn a sword into a pen right in front of her. She gestured for him to knock an arrow and prepare a shot. He stared at her for a few seconds before stabbing his sword in the soft dirt, and complying with her request. A few seconds passed and just before he released the shot, she stopped him.

"When you line up your shot, there is a small period of time just before you release the arrow, that your body's energy tries to make you sway." She stated, staring intently at his form as a plan developed in her mind. She had seen this issue many times in her own era, especially when she had fought against the Nordic Vikings. None of her soldiers were used to shooting projectiles while out at sea, while the Saxons were able to aim with deadly precision.

"Have you tried shooting from a boat?" She inquired, her mind working hard at unraveling the mystery man before her. He remained silent for a few seconds before he began to chuckle. His chuckles soon turned to loud and bellowing laughter as the irony of the answer hit him full force.

"By the Gods, I should have known!" He exclaimed, already excited at the prospect of shooting an arrow properly.

Gods? Saber tilts her head slightly at the odd exclamation. She had heard rumors of the Norse gods existing, but surely this boy wasn't a Nordic God. He wasn't even bulky enough to be a Norse demigod. She watched as he withdrew his shining blade from the dirt and twirled it with great skill, letting it rest on his shoulder once more at the end of it all.

"Thank you so much for this, ma'am. You truly don't know how much you've helped me today."

"Pardon me, but I have a few questions for you." She said politely, giving him a nice, pleasant smile. A smile he instantly saw through. He stiffened minutely and he knew that they both knew that they weren't getting out of here so easily.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but I don't think I will be able to help you. There is a house about a hundred yards behind you. Mr. Jarkins can help you with anything you need to know, especially when it comes to directions, great places to ea-"

"I'm asking about what Gods you worship." Saber stated bluntly, cutting him off as he rambled. Her fighting instincts kicked into overdrive when a foreboding feeling settled into her gut. The junkyard was silent for a long few seconds, the silence almost deafening as the first stilled.

"You are treading into dangerous territory, ma'am. I would suggest that you refrain from further inquiry." Percy warned her slowly, his foot sliding back slightly. He pulled his sword off his shoulder and rested the tip against the dirt.

"Is that a threat?" Saber's eyes narrowed at the young man. Surely he couldn't be considering fighting her...he wasn't considering that right?

"It is a piece of advice. Consider it the down payment for helping me with my archery problem." He joked half heartedly. Chiron's teachings be damned, if she attacked him here, he was completely attacking back. She clearly wasn't a full mortal and she was also asking the wrong questions at the wrong time to the wrong person.

Saber's eyes flicked from his eyes down to his sword, mentally noting that the blade shone with a bronze light. She repositioned herself slightly as well, sword now resting on one of her shoulders. Her armor was on standby and ready to be equipped at a seconds notice.

"I don't want to fight you, ma'am. I'd hate to be known as the dude who picks fights with random women in a dirty junkyard. That just won't look good at all." Percy tries to joke again, hoping to defuse the situation with humor

"You seem very confident that you will come out victorious." Saber declares with a raised eyebrow. "I am Artoria Pendragon, King of Britain. I sense the power of a deity within you. What is your name and who's power do you wield?"

Percy inwardly gawked at what was probably the most bullshit answer he had ever heard in his life. Did she really just claim she was King Arthur?

"Okay. If you were going to lie about your name, you could have easily picked a better name. Like Jennifer or maybe Adriana. But to claim that you are a long dead king of Britain, when you clearly are a female, who isn't even confirmed to be real is blasphemy." Percy states slowly, tensing up slightly as the air shifted for the worse. "But, if you are truly a knight of Camelot or whatever you consider yourself, I will uphold your sense of honor. I am Perseus Jackson...Son of Poseidon."

Saber's blood freezes as the reality of the situation sunk in. Despite all the power and skill she had, it was automatically nothing when compared to a demigod. She backed up a few steps but kept her sword at the ready.

"I have answered your questions, Arturia Pendragon, and most likely sentenced myself to death for telling you of my father. May we never meet again." He intones morosely, turning away from her and exploding into a puff of mist.

"May we never meet again, Perseus Jackson. For both our sakes."