Chapter 2

A/N: As promised, I've attached pictures of what I want my OC to look like. I used Daniela Nieves as a rough face claim then generated an AI image because it just made more sense when making a demigod of this particular nature. However, I also really like Eden Masliah's intense look so you can use both of them as a reference. Also, the song 'The Canon' by ruinedbymateo has this vibe that reminds me of Emilia, it's hard to explain but to me it makes sense, probably because of the cover art. Also, as a visual reference to her powers (since we don't yet have any demigod darkness manipulation visuals from the show), I guess the closest thing I would say are the powers that General Kirigan has in Shadow and Bone. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!

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Camp Half-Blood, Winter 2009

Everything was already ruined.

How long had she thought it could possibly last? How long could anyone be kind to her? The one person who truly believed she could be good was gone. Where did it leave her?

For four months, she'd done her best to assimilate despite feeling severely out of place. Many new cabins had been built, a huge influx of campers had been sorted around and given a place to call home. Training schedules had to be modified to place those in their own cabins together to take up a slot, which meant she was often made to train with other demigods against her will. Few were at the same level as her. No, most of them were children and she was...

She'd never really gotten to be a child and yet now was marching directly into adulthood. There was no turning back.

The other half-bloods were trying to be kind to her, though she knew that a lot of them didn't trust her and they sure as hell didn't truly want her there (who would?) especially because they were well-aware she'd been on the other side of the war they barely survived. She appreciated it, really, but she still had a hard time showing it. Getting used to expressing emotions the way other people did seemed impossible for her.

She couldn't just pretend to be ecstatic about everything; her enthusiasm was below average and it was hard to tell when something excited her. She laughed, but it remained hollow despite her trying to mimic different laughs she heard around her. Crying when she wanted to was simply never happening, but somehow she managed to cry each time she was frustrated, which happened often because her temper still flared and she grew angry easily. It was hard to talk herself out of negative spirals where she convinced herself everything was horrible and also her fault.

She'd always struggled with social situations because nothing made sense when people approached her. She couldn't sit still during conversations even when they were important because she hardly knew how to tell if they were important. It had been harder to try and learn how to sense what others were feeling even if it wasn't a negative emotion, and exponentially harder to not release bursts of magic that made everyone avoid her like the plague. She was getting better at it (or so she told herself. So she hoped). A few campers talked to her for longer periods of time during activities and some of the younger children didn't necessarily seem frightened of her, just wary.

Some of them even did her great favors. Drew Tanaka from Aphrodite used charmspeak at the DMV to get her a driver's license (though this was mostly at Chiron, Annabeth, and Percy's insistence). Katie Gardner from Demeter taught her to cook. Malcolm Pace from Athena helped her get her high school diploma. Will Solace from Apollo was conducting her therapy sessions to keep the shadows from overtaking her each time she got upset.

Still, it seemed as though all these demigods were meeting a requirement. The only person who behaved like somewhat of a friend without hovering over her protectively was Pollux, son of Dionysus. It had come unexpectedly, given Emilia was partially responsible for the death of his twin brother, Castor. She'd found the doors to the Labyrinth, she'd given Kronos enough of an army to get into Camp Half-Blood.

He didn't blame her for it— which was more than she could say for Dionysus himself, who clearly didn't want her there but tolerated her because the other Olympians believed she wasn't a threat to them anymore— but even so she was skeptical if he meant that.

He would talk to her during activities and he even promised to teach her to fight with a sword as long as she promised to teach him to wield a spear. It would've been easy to make such a promise, but she instead carefully told him that she'd try her best to be a good student and a good teacher. She wasn't sure if Pollux was playing a long con, trying to get revenge on his brother's behalf, maybe on his father's orders...

Even though she had some people to make conversation with, she had the sensation that she wasn't anyone's favorite person. The Ares cabin admired the way she fought and recalled Eris had sided with their father in the Trojan War, but it seemed Clarisse La Rue still thought Emilia to be a terrible person and would make her life a living hell if they sparred. Chris Rodriguez had never met Emilia and only knew that she'd been the one to find the Labyrinth entrance that he was shoved into. He didn't hold it against her but for Clarisse, it was a sure sign that Emilia was to blame for Chris having gone mad. She made sure she never forgot it.

Emilia wasn't any better herself. She got into arguments during training, she fought over shower schedules with some of the senior counselors. She couldn't control what she got mad at and it seemed that without meaning to, she still made everyone mad at her. In four months, she'd discovered that though she was thankful to be at Camp Half-Blood, she couldn't claim to be happy. Nothing washed away the stain she felt lingering on her, the one that said she was worthless and evil and not deserving of their generosity.

She'd started having dreams, too. She'd never really been plagued by them before, especially not during her time serving Kronos. Now she re-lived her evil deeds, she re-lived her time with her family, she thought she saw her aunt lingering in corners when she was randomly in a supermarket being forced to interact with cashiers and practice as if this experience would ever come up. She had resigned herself to accepting it was hopeless; she'd never thrive out in the world on her own. Soon she'd be twenty years old and she had absolutely nothing going for her.

It fell on Percy Jackson to teach her, as it seemed he was the only one patient enough to withstand her anger when it burst out and she sent bolts of dark energy into the ground, breaking open new fissures that had to be repaired constantly.

He was just a kid himself. Sixteen years old, savior of the world, he was offered the chance to become a god and he turned it down. Emilia could only ever dream of being like him. That honorable, that loyal, that astonishing. He and Annabeth Chase were the ones she looked up to, the ones she tried to model her behavior after. Imitating made it easier but still, she felt like she was failing at everything in life, like she was their useless and clumsy little sister trying to fit into shoes that were way too big for her.

Percy and Annabeth had tried to get her to recognize her weaknesses, in the hopes it could keep her from making the same mistakes. They'd shared theirs with her, hoping it could help her identify hers.

Percy was too loyal, Annabeth too prideful, Nico held grudges too long, their friend Thalia was too ambitious. It was easy to spot some flaws in others– Drew, like many other children of Aphrodite– was too vain.

A few other demigods had visibly low self-esteem, they clung to their past too much, they took too long to make decisions, they acted too rashly, they found themselves unable to resist challenges. The one she recalled the most was Luke Castellan– the flaw that let Kronos draw him in in the first place was his excessive wrath, his inability to forgive his father.

Where did it leave her? She didn't think herself too loyal– now she wasn't sure she'd ever be loyal to anything again. She'd been wrong last time. Her self-esteem wasn't low but she wasn't so prideful, either. She could make decisions quickly (though she felt she could be a bit rash at times, and lacked enough self-control which left her to take on more than she could handle) without being selfish or ambitious in the process. She didn't focus on wrath, she didn't even hunger for power anymore. If anything, she felt guilty all the time. Was 'guilt-ridden' considered a fatal flaw?

And then Percy had asked her an important question. Who, in the entire Camp, did she think she could trust?

She hadn't been able to give him an answer.

Emilia never felt she'd trusted anyone easily. She didn't remember trusting her father to protect her, she supposed she expected her aunt to but even that she handled on her own. And then, she remembered how Atlas and Kronos toyed with her, how she was unable to keep her anger at bay long enough to realize they were manipulating her.

She couldn't read emotions well enough to know if someone was lying. If they hid it well, if they told her what she wanted to hear, she'd likely believe them. She told herself she'd improve in this, she told herself she'd work on sensing negative emotions better even if they weren't the ones she could manipulate.

But in the end, she realized the problem wasn't that she trusted too easily– that mistake, she'd never make again– rather, that she didn't trust the people she should. By now, Chiron, Percy, Annabeth, and Will Solace especially had proven that they would provide her a safe space to grow and recover. Still, she kept expecting them to turn on her. She couldn't work in teams, she couldn't rely on anyone to really have her back. The only person who could protect Emilia was Emilia.

Percy had promised that he would teach her how to trust. He told her it wouldn't be easy, but it was possible.

And now where was Percy? How could it have come to this?

"Try again," pleaded Annabeth.

Emilia opened one eye and glared at her, still cross-legged and with her hands outstretched over a map. Her skin had paled again after so many hours of sending her shadows out. "I'm trying. I can't sense any chaos surrounding Percy, I can't find his particular shadow. I've never had to track specific people down."

"Well, try harder! Something is wrong, I know it. He made his bed. He never makes his bed."

Emilia huffed in frustration and concentrated again, the tendrils of shadows reaching into the open air. She thought of Percy, Percy being angry or scared, Percy feeling internal turmoil, Percy clouded in darkness. No matter what she focused on, there was nothing that helped her sense where he was. It was like he no longer existed.

Still, she didn't think him dead. No, death had a certain energy. Nico di Angelo could probably confirm her theory that he was alive. But Annabeth wasn't in the mood to be told another 'I don't know' and Nico was already searching. It fell on her and Emilia had nothing to offer.

"It's useless," said Emilia, coiling her fingers and drawing the shadows back in. "I can't make a portal to him because I can't find him. I've been at this all night, I'm tired. There's nothing to sense. He's just... gone."

Annabeth was angry enough on her own. Being in front of Emilia only made it more unbearable. Seeing her glare, Emilia added sharply, "I want to find him too, okay? He's one of the few people who have been nice to me so when I say that I can't find him, I mean it. I'll try again tomorrow night. I need a break."

Though dissatisfied, Annabeth gave a frustrated huff and left, probably to pursue another theory, some other path they could search. Emilia didn't see how any of it was going to be possible, but she knew Annabeth needed a break from her about as much as Emilia needed a break from searching. It didn't matter that her magic was focused on finding him; the shadows reached out to Annabeth and sowed discord all the same. With a few hours apart, they'd both feel a bit better.

As soon as she left, Emilia swept her hands up, the shadows closing the door to Cabin Twenty-One. She undimmed the lights, letting the cabin brighten up as she got herself ready to go to sleep. Even brushing her teeth was tiring; her arms were exhausted from pushing and pulling so many shadows. What good had they done for her?

You never should have accepted their offer.

She hated that Kronos's voice had never fully left her mind. All the time she'd been aware of her powers, she heard him whispering his plans, his advice, his beliefs. His voice had become the one she heard in her head when her conscience started to question what she did.

No matter how hard she tried, it wouldn't go away. He would tell her how she felt, good or bad, but mostly, he liked to speak up when she was in doubt, when she was experiencing discord between the two sides of herself– one side wanted redemption, the other still hungered for revenge.

You know that some of your brethren were banished, don't you? Some, they didn't give a chance to. You, why did they pity you? Think, they're using you. They want something and they will get it. Destroy them before they get a chance.

She scrubbed her teeth harder to drown out the voice. No, this wasn't right. They were good people, they were trying to help her. She brought the demigods to Mount Othrys but the rest was on them– they chose what to make of their experience, they decided how devoted they were. Some took it further without being so close to Kronos, some liked to kill in his name. She never even got that chance. She wasn't in it for blood, she was in it for–

You don't trust them, not the way you trusted me. The way you admired me. Little fool, you thought I'd pay you an ounce of attention, you thought I made you my Queen because I cared for you. You know now that I only ever wanted to entice you, I wanted to make you serve me because I knew the carnage alone wasn't enough for you. Were it not for the veil, you would've disappeared much sooner...

She spit out hard as she rinsed her mouth, setting the toothbrush back in her cup and running some soap over her hands to wash her face. Her own hands against her face were cold, they reminded her of the way it felt when Kronos touched her using Luke's hands. A simple tap on her shoulder, the holding of her chin. Meaningless and yet she made it have a sick significance.

How easily you serve when someone tells you that you're powerful. You should've known it already. If you had, I couldn't have convinced you to join me, I couldn't have made you do my bidding. You brought demigods and monsters to my army to please me. You want revenge yet you never took it. No, you would only seek it if I was watching, wouldn't you?

At last, she grew so frustrated she swept her hands out, darkening the entire room and trudging to her bed. She let the shadows cast a curtain over the cabin, keeping out all noise. She curled up and covered her ears, breathing deeply like Will told her to. 'If he talks to you,' he'd said, 'think of the most peaceful place you can, remind yourself he can't hurt you there. He can't hurt you ever again. He tricked you and you are not to blame for any of it.'

Even as she imagined herself back under the bleachers at her high school, with only seagulls cawing overhead and no one to bother her, she couldn't help but feel that everything was her fault. She had ruined so many lives, it didn't matter that she never sought it from the first, that she never craved the bloodshed. She served Kronos, not his purpose. And that was a million times worse.

But this wasn't the dream she conjured, even when it helped her fall asleep. She dreamt that she was in the dark forest over Mount Tam. A small campfire was lit, and a woman in dark robes was reaching into a basket, withdrawing what looked like a package of tamales. It reminded Emilia of her aunt, and of the time she made her look up online why Mount Tam had been named that way.

"According to this," said Emilia, "The Miwok word tamalpais roughly means 'bay mountain' or 'coast mountain.' So, nothing about tamales, Tía Evangelina."

"Eso no tiene nada de sentido," her aunt had replied. "Como persona que habla Español, yo veo 'tamal' y 'país.' Osea, ¿es este un país hecho de tamales? ¿O un país donde tienen tamales? Ya parece." (T: That makes no sense. As a person who speaks Spanish, I see 'tamal' and 'country.' Like, is this a country made of tamales? Or a country where they have tamales? As if.)

Emilia would have laughed if she could. "One day we should have a picnic on Mount Tam and eat tamales."

Evangelina managed a smile, pleased that she'd had such a good idea. "Yes, I think that would be nice."

The woman in her dream wasn't her aunt. She didn't really have a face Emilia could see. When she opened the package, the corn husks fell away, revealing there were no tamales inside, rather, a large, dark, ornate key.

"You are the key, niña," said the woman. "If you wish to make up for what you've done, you will free me. Without you, it all falls to chaos. Prevent it this time, don't cause it."

She woke up and it was already morning, as if she'd merely blinked and been transported through time. The woman's voice lingered, the phrase 'free me' seeming to echo around the cabin. Emilia had no idea what to make of it.

She tried her best to eat breakfast without letting Kronos's voice slip back in and without thinking of the strange woman. She heard that Annabeth was gone, something about a mission with Butch, son of Iris, to find a demigod missing a shoe, courtesy of a vision from Hera. Supposedly, it was a lead on Percy. Nico di Angelo and Grover, a recently proclaimed Lord of the Wild, had already been sent out to look for him. With any luck, they'd return soon with some information.

There was a commotion in the late afternoon, while she was in the arena working on swords with Pollux. He'd been talking for a while about techniques, sometimes slipping in a few personal details to establish rapport. He told her he was applying to college, that he wanted to go to school in the West Coast to study Plant Biology. She was trying her best to seem interested (really, it did interest her, she just couldn't make her face reflect that for the length of the conversation) when they heard a loud splash followed by shouts.

"The lake!" she heard someone from the Hermes cabin call out. "Annabeth and Butch are back!"

She followed them because it seemed like the right thing to do. Pollux was going, which probably meant she should follow suit. It would be the most normal thing to do.

"Annabeth!" Will Solace exclaimed when they found Annabeth and Butch with three demigods and a broken chariot, all drenched from having crashed into the lake. "I said you could borrow the chariot, not destroy it!"

"Will, I'm sorry," Annabeth sighed. "I'll get it fixed, I promise."

Will scowled, but he, like everyone else, was looking at the three new demigods with interest. "These are the ones? Way older than thirteen. Why haven't they been claimed already?"

"Claimed?" asked one of the demigods, a Latino boy with curly black hair, pointy ears, a cheerful, babyish face, and a mischievous smile that reminded Emilia of the kids from the Hermes cabin.

Annabeth didn't get a chance to explain. Will cut in, "Any sign of Percy?"

She shook her head. "No."

The other campers began to mutter among themselves. "That's not good," said Pollux under his breath, perhaps the only other person aside from Annabeth that knew how much she'd been hassling Emilia about trying to find Percy.

Drew stepped forward, examining the new recruits in the same way she'd once looked at Emilia. She remembered Drew had given her too many up-and-down looks since she'd arrived, always judging but never finding anything to say. Not because Emilia looked anything like Drew's mother, Aphrodite, but probably because Drew, like everyone, still felt a dark energy that kept them from telling Emilia things they worried would make her lose her cool.

"Well," said Drew, "I hope they're worth the trouble."

The Latino boy snorted. "Gee, thanks. What are we, your new pets?"

"No kidding," said the other boy, a tall teenager with close-cropped blond hair, electric blue eyes, and a kind but sad expression. He reminded Emilia of Atlas. The way he stood was so regal, like he mattered, like many someone's had told him he was important and should act like it. "How about some answers before you start judging us– like, what is this place, why are we here, how long do we have to stay?"

"Jason," said Annabeth calmly, "I promise we'll answer your questions. And Drew–" she frowned in her direction, "all demigods are worth saving. But I'll admit, the trip didn't accomplish what I hoped."

"Hey," retorted the girl they brought with them, with chocolate brown hair that was cut choppy, uneven, and with thin strands braided down the sides. In her frustration, Emilia could see strange kaleidoscope eyes, ever changing. She was beautiful, and if she'd been Drew, she would've been nervous that this girl could pack a punch powerful enough to make other people not beautiful. "We didn't ask to be brought here."

Drew sniffed. "And nobody wants you, hon. Does your hair always look like a dead badger?"

The girl stepped forward, but Annabeth intervened. "Piper, stop." She shot Drew another pointed look. "We need to make our new arrivals feel welcome. We've been practicing that. We'll assign them each a guide, give them a tour of camp. Hopefully by the campfire tonight, they'll be claimed."

"Would somebody tell me what claimed means?" Piper asked.

A red light burst over the Latino boy's head, a flaming hammer appearing. "That," said Annabeth as the campers gasped, "is claiming."

"What'd I do?" said the boy, yelping when he saw the hammer. "Is my hair on fire?" He tried to duck away, but the hammer followed him.

"This can't be good," said Butch. "The curse–"

"Butch, shut up," Annabeth said. "Leo, you've just been claimed–"

"By a god," Jason interrupted. "That's the symbol of Vulcan, isn't it?"

Emilia narrowed her eyes as Annabeth said, "Jason, how did you know that?"

He seemed perplexed by the fact everyone was now facing him. "I'm not sure."

"Vulcan?" Leo demanded. "I don't even LIKE Star Trek. What are you talking about?"

Pollux made a face at Emilia as Annabeth arranged for Will to give Leo a tour and introduce him to his half-siblings. "Vulcan?" he said under his breath. "Usually they come to us with no knowledge of the Greek gods or some, but to recognize the Roman form first is... unexpected."

"Don't people learn them together?" asked Emilia. "I did. I would've said Vulcan, too. Sounds a whole lot nicer than Hephaestus."

"I doubt that. You'd have said your mother was Eris, not Discordia, even if you thought one sounded cooler than the other. I'd have said Dionysus, not Bacchus. We're hardwired for Greek. Even if we recognized it, I don't think that would be the case."

She glanced back at Jason, who was being made to show his arm as Annabeth tried to figure out why he'd mentioned Vulcan at all. He removed his windbreaker and on his right forearm was a tattoo, darkly etched, a dozen straight lines like a barcode over an eagle with the letters SPQR.

"I've never seen marks like this," said Annabeth. "Where did you get them?"

Jason shook his head. "I'm getting really tired of saying this, but I don't know."

"They look burned into your skin."

"They were." He winced. "I mean, I think so. I don't remember."

Annabeth decided, "He needs to go straight to Chiron. Drew, would you–"

"Absolutely." Without hesitation, Drew laced her arm through Jason's. "This way, sweetie. I'll introduce you to our director. He's... an interesting guy." She flashed Piper a smug look and led Jason toward the Big House.

"Let's go back to the arena," suggested Pollux. "I'm sure if anything important comes up, we'll be told. I wish my dad was still here, he would've just shared the news immediately..." He rolled his eyes and threw his hands up, "But apparently, gods can't contact their children anymore. One fucking month and not a single peep from Olympus. That seems to defeat the purpose of trying to do better with claiming and all that but... whatever."

Emilia was quiet, wondering how she'd ever make any contact at all with her mother, if it was even possible. She looked back to where the campers were dispersing, Annabeth leading Piper away on her own tour.

She wasn't sure why she got such a bad feeling from all three of the new demigods. She sensed internal turmoil, she sensed trouble. Especially from Jason, there was a chill that ran down her spine just thinking of him, as if his arrival would bring strife.

She hoped she was wrong.

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