Dean's bunk

When he first arrived, his bunk was almost compulsively neat, but in four years he had become fifty times more comfortable, and now his reasonably fashionable clothes were spread haphazardly over the bed or shoved hastily under the bed. A pirate's chest of belongings sat at the side of the bunk, various items stuffed within; the crumpled sea-blue covers had, as well as the aforementioned clothes, a middle-of-the-range laptop accompanied by a set of textbooks for studying, a celestial bronze sword named Treacherous and a boy with dark brown hair, steely blue eyes and four beads on his necklace - this boy went by the name of Dean Stirling.

As Dean sat up, it could be seen that he wore a casual hoodie over a camp t-shirt. His fingers, calloused with swordplay, ran almost unconsciously to his side, where the bottle of salt water that kickstarted the son of Palaemon's powers. Mentally, he went through the tasks for today. Avoid studying - check. Visit Fred, his shark buddy - check. Train in the swordfighting arena - check. Yep, he'd done pretty good. But what to do now?