one.
( the lightning thief.  )
❛ new beginnings. ❜

SPRING AND SUMMERTIME were a favourable period for the cluster of young demi-gods confined in the invisible barriers of camp half-blood. it symbolised the death of frosty nights and instead celebrated the arrival of blossoming leaves and freshly grown flowers — which excited the children of Demeter to no end. Overall, it welcomed the approaching humidity of June with open arms. In truth, Colette quite enjoyed the spring and summertime embrace that blanketed over the camp at the cusp of march. It meant the strawberries in the formation of the fields turned ripe with rich crimson, and the temperature of the lake increased gradually. Persephone's blessing of spring had left her thankful, most of the time.

The passing spring had been her fourth inside the confined and transparent walls of Camp Half-Blood, a sanctuary for the offspring of Greek Gods disguised as a harmless strawberry farm.

She'd been seven at the time of her arrival, almost eight. Now, she was twelve—turning thirteen in December, and the differentiating line between Camp Half-Blood and home had some how merged into one. The satiny lilac sheets of the cabin had replaced the Disney Princess blankets upon her bed and her days spent under the San Francisco sun, that had once been filled with the warmth of nostalgia, had been dimmed beside the jovial exhilaration graced upon her by the camp.

Days upon bustling streets with her smaller hand held tightly in her mother's had been traded for nights spent with thrilling rounds of capture the flag and toasting marshmallows around an amber campfire.

Of course she missed her mother much more than she was comfortable to admit. But things were just easier this way. Less dangerous.

And besides, Colette quite adored Camp Half-Blood as though her blood ran through the soil and her soul breached every wall. Camp was as much her home as the house where her childhood burned away was. She ravished under the eternal sunlight that blanketed over the hours of the day — unburdened by Demeter's anguish in the months of winter and autumn. Though, she couldn't deny that yearning to experience a shower of rainfall or a snowy winter was a regular occurrence within her mind.

Because, sure, camp was cool. Filled with those alike and different to herself and the activities within the community were brimming with adrenaline. But the world that lay beyond was just that: beyond. Always slipping out of reach in an endless diversionary chase, bound to win with the infuriating laughter that brushed through the large trees on the border of the camp.

Always just beyond her reach.

The thought would make her bite her tongue in frustration till her tastebuds were poisoned with the taste of metal. She wouldn't be confined here forever, she didn't need to worry about that. She'd turn thirteen, maybe fourteen and pledge herself to be forever young—a spectre of eternity encased in the crisp coolness of moonlight, destined to wander forests hand-in-hand with other maidens of youth and chastity, armed by arrows of pearly silver.

It was prophesied; predicted by her peers within the camp. It was simply who she was—who was bound to be.

Chiron, the fatherly camp activities director (who was also centaur), had furrowed his brows, believing it to the be the stir of internal debate that awoke in the council of gods above that had postponed Artemis from allowing her to join the hunters—though he was quite reluctant to say and had made it seem as a much less big of a deal than it seemed. All because, ever the emotional, Zeus had claimed that something was stolen. That something had been poached from his side and rumours had poisoned the air like teardrops of acid venom—though it was meant to be kept very private from the demigods at the camp, and the only reason Colette knew was because of the animals she interacted with. Unbeknownst to Chiron and Mr. D, animals loved to gossip.

Colette knew fully well about how temperamental some of the gods could be; holding grudges that lasted long enough to be scorched in tapestry and dripped like honey off of the tongues of poets who worshiped them.

She knew of the brewing jealousy within the gods, the heat of their ichor-filled veins that declared agony on those they held distaste for. The tale of Psyche and Eros made it clear enough not to compare anybody or claim oneself to be more attractive than the goddess of beauty, Aphrodite. And the myth of Poseidon's revenge placed upon the hero Odysseus had been warning enough not to spite a child of the big three (or at least... not to utter your name and leave the job unfinished ).

It was common knowledge amongst their demi-god descendants, insulting a god was dangerous.

Nevertheless Colette had her inquires about who the proclaimed thief could be. Of course, she wouldn't go around telling all that would listen—mostly out of anxiety that she would suffer their wrath. Though many signs, and Chiron's inspection, pointed to the thief being none other than Zeus' brother, the god of the dead Hades.

The only person she had shared her hushed thoughts with was her (very opinionated) best friend.

Colette couldn't really recall the day she had first met her closest friend within the camp, the ambitious and resourceful daughter of the goddess Athena, Annabeth Chase. Annabeth was an endlessly witty girl, always searching for more as she ached to craft and fabricate the way the Greeks had done once before—before the hands of man had disintegrated them into forgotten, scowling ruin. Her eyes twinkled with an unmatchable hue of grey, alike to the shade that spilled from the led of her worn-out pencils, and her hair bounced in gorgeous ringlets of curled blonde locks, normally held back in an unkept ponytail that allowed long strands to fall over her eyes, quite complimentary against the tenderness of her tan, sun-kissed skin. Honestly, Annabeth was quite beautiful.

Wether it was their shared eagerness to venture beyond the walls of the camp and finally receive a quest of their own, or the same thrill that coursed through their veins as they partook in a riveting game of capture the flag, Annabeth Chase and Colette Archer were attached at the hip. Where one went, the other was always one step ahead—which was way Colette wasted away waiting for annabeth to be done with her chores.

Her day had begun in the same airy schedule as it had the day prior, and the day prior to that, which had led to her taking her rest just beyond the sand of the pristine beach. She debated asking one of her cousins to join her, specifically the energetic ball of glistening sunlight that took a human form by the name of Will Solace, but ultimately decided against it as she knew of majority of the Apollo cabin's endless chores within the infirmary. And though he was still quite young (a few years younger than Colette herself), Will was still one of the most talented medics within the camp walls.

So, with fulfilled chores (paid generously to the Stoll Brothers, two mischievous sons of Hermes) and no Chiron to scold her, Colette could only wait.

And wait.

And pester Mr. D, who was actually the god of wine and madness Dionysus, about Chiron's disappearance. Mr.D was a man would always confound Colette archer. Having been punished to spend decades inside the camp and watching over it's occupants because he had attempted an affair with one of Zeus' favoured nymphs despite Dionysus insisting he was loyal to his wife Ariadne, Dionysus was never one to stay true to his word. that and his tendency to misspell her name despite knowing it confidently and instead referring to her as Nicole.

It had been exactly two months and seven days since Chiron had mysteriously departed from camp (maybe eight but Colette wasn't too sure) and it had surprised her given that many a time, Chiron would send a satyr protector to observe a young demigod rather than volunteering to do so himself. not only that, but he'd taken her favourite satyr with him too—a sweet and bashful boy named Grover! and although Chiron would never declare favourites, he'd always shared a softness for her that reminded her so fondly of her mortal mother.

And though she would never (ever!) admit it, Colette Archer was somebody that one could consider... lonely. not because her cousins discouraged her or the campers disliked her, but rather, she seemed to be an uneven piece lodged into a jigsaw or a puzzle that she didn't feel like she belonged in. She felt odd, yet not unwanted. She had those in camp who adored her and who she adored in return, like her older cousin, Lee Fletcher and the ever friendly face of the hermes cabin, Luke Castellan, but their warm smiles and cheery laughter only managed to spill droplets of faith into her loneliness. that's why she waited for Chiron to return with Grover in tow. Chiron may've been strange company, but he always listened to her so she wouldn't complain.

She wished that he were there sat in front of her rather than Mr. D, who was staring at her with his characteristic disinterest. he wasn't the tallest of men and his skin was bronze with tan from the sunlight; his hair was black like charcoal but salted with burgundy that awoke in his beard too, yet he seemed almost dauntingly youthful despite his aged face. as he always did in the summer sun, he adorned a tiger-print shirt and plain beige shorts, one of his legs kicked absentmindedly over the other as a pair of sandals resided on his feet. In one of his hands, he swirled a can of diet coke as though it were a glass of the finest alcohol to grace the earth and with the other he pushed his sunglasses to the bridge of his nose as a shadow blocked the sunlight.

"Two months." the god's eyes were expressing his taste of disinterest at the topic as Colette Archer stood before him in all her silver glory. Her arms were crossed and she stood at the end of the small table in the middle of the big house, one of her painted nails tapping against her arm as she stared at him. "Chiron said he would be back in two months. it's been longer than that now."

Mr. D raised a bushy eyebrow at her, almost challengingly as he mocked her. He was cunning and mischievous in nature so underlying banter had always taken ahold of his tone. "oh yeah," he drawled, "what's your point?"

She narrowed her gaze upon the man, dampening her lips as she harboured a look of unease. her weight shifted from foot to foot as she stood before him. "Shouldn't you be concerned? None of the satyrs take this long to bring back campers let alone chiron--"

Mr. D interjected with a dismissive wave of his hand as he took a long sip from the can that crinkled and hollowed used his grip. "listen, Nicole."

"Colette."

"Yeah, that's what i said." he shook his head at her and spoke in an obvious rhythm. "Whatever Chiron's doing, i'm sure is important or whatever and even if i wanted to, which i don't, i'm not allowed to tell ya' where your buddy's gone off too." he looked cocky, too smug in himself before he paused, "...although, maybe if you retrieved for me a bottle of chateau margaux--"

"No, i'm not doing that again." she reprimanded, "Last time Chiron put me on cabin inspection for a month—a whole month—and he told me if i did it again, i'd do it for two months." she collapsed into the chair opposite him almost theatrically. She was slouched slightly and one of her hands ran through the river of brown locks that fell over her shoulder.

She was frowning as she glanced over the ocean, and Mr. D pursed his lips. "Okay, listen kid." he began, "it's summer, stop sulking. Go enjoy the sun, fight with your cousins and friends, practice archery; whatever. And when the old man returns, i'll be the first to let you know." he promised.

Her lips were bitten with unease and the scrunch of her eyebrows highlighted the uncertainty. "honestly?" She asked, raising a speculative eyebrow.

"Sure, yeah i promise." His tone was laced with dismissal, "i'll get one of the boys to let you know." the boys—castor and pollux were the only two children inside the camp that were the offspring of dionysus himself. she knew them by name and often spoke to pollux during arts and crafts.

She hadn't managed many more words after that, their small conversation having been disrupted by the emerging figure of a boy no older than sixteen. His hair was a brilliant mess of warm and sunlit blond that, as he walked, seemed to be a vibrant clash of caramels, golds, honey and copper all somehow visible under curls of hair and his eyes were a glimmer of blue. Lee Fletcher. or as Colette liked to call him, her third mother. Colette's favourite yet most troublesome cousin. he was lean yet not the tallest of the apollo cabin, though all of the cabin seven campers did have a strange height advantage compared to other campers (including Colette who he had always claimed to be abnormally short).

Mr. D rolled his eyes as the boy stopped at the end of the table, arms crossed and a look of dramatic exhaustion washing over his face. "Colette Andromeda Archer, i've been looking for you all day!" his tone was strained with exasperation, "Allison's driving me crazy." he exclaimed, referencing another one of her older cousins.

"I left you a note." shrugged his younger cousin as she shrank slightly into her chair. "By the window next to your bed." she yelped as a scrunched up piece of paper hit the side of her arm and upon unfolding it, she mumbled the note outloud. "hey lee, don't bother looking for me. im going to bother mr.d, see you at lunch, love collie."

Mr. D groaned as Lee stomped closer, his obvious disdain for children shining in the tone of his voice. "yeah, i got your stupid note after will used it as a coaster." he grumbled, "cabin inspection was this morning dumbass, i had to shove all your shit under your bed 'cause i knew you would've left your cabin a mess! which by the way, i took back that brown sweater you stole!"

"language." Mr. D scolded halfheartedly.

The son of Apollo looked momentarily apologetic yet with the ever-changing swirl of mockery in his eyes, it was hard to tell. "of course, Mr. D." he turned back to his cousin unhappily, "I shoved all the crap and stolen clothes you took under your bed, you little thief!"

"You gave me that sweater." persisted Colette, her eyebrows creased as she pushed herself to stand from her chair. "besides it looks better against my hair colour."

"Demi-brats," Dionysus disrupted them as the boy went to respond. he rose from his seat, a hand on the lower neck of each of the cousin's necks as he steered them further towards the entrance. "oh, you missed inspection," he put on high-pitched, squeaky accents, "oh, you stole my shirt. yada, yada, yada, same old same old. tell you what, why don't you have this little mothers meeting outside, off my porch so that i can rest peacefully with out your constant yapping." he shoved them both forward and they yelled as they tripped down the small set of stairs, "good day, children!" he slammed shut the doors.

with the slamming of the doors, silence engulfed the beach and the two blinked at the stain-glass doors where a small click resounded, signifying that the god had locked them both out. after a moment of contemplation, Lee turned to the younger girl. "you wanna get something to eat?"

"So, tell me again." Lee commanded as he sat back down at the stone seats, his offering to his father having been placed in the furnace and burning up in plows of smoke-coloured gratitude. he raised a speculative eyebrow at Colette as she drank from the chocolate milkshake in her hand.

She rolled her eyes, "I've told you three times now, stop getting distracted." She scowled lightly though there wasn't really any malice to it. she absently swirled the straw in her drink as though it were one of the most intriguing things she'd taken part in all day long.

"are you gonna say it or not?"

Her scowl intensified and she slumped a hand under her chin. "I said, i think when this boy arrives, the one with the minotaur horn, i think that'll be when i finally get a quest. Like Chiron promised." she explained and when he asked what she meant by a boy with the horn of the minotaur, she explained further, "You know that field trip we took up to olympus last winter solstice?" he nodded, "about a week after that i started getting dreams about a boy with a minotaur horn."

"Oh, i remember that." recalled Lee with a gasp of realisation. "that was when you got that little boy from the Demeter cabin to make you those herbs. uh, what's he called now? Christian? Clayton?"

"it's Callum... i think."

"ah, that's the one." Lee nodded with a champion smile, showcasing his pearly and slightly fanged teeth in his award-winning smile. he began ranting about how one of the Demeter children had recently helped him with something about something (Colette wasn't really listening, honestly). "oh, yeah but of course continue." he said as he glanced to her unimpressed expression and raised eyebrows.

She smiled tightly, "thank you. Anyway, i think this boy's important for one reason or another. and what else could that be if not to come here and help me get a quest." her smile brightened as she spoke, welcoming a new glimmer of warmth as she daydreamed about what was to come, what would come. "why else would i of all people be dreaming about him if he's not in some way important to me."

Lee nodded to her words, digesting and pondering them before responding. he moistened his lips before swallowing then spoke gently, "and... well, you're sure these aren't just dreams."

Of course they weren't just dreams, Colette's intuition persisted. in the time that Colette had been claimed as the daughter of Artemis, meaningful dreams had always been something she plagued her. she wasn't like the bright and inquisitive children of apollo, plagued by prophecies and visions of what was to come. however, it was knowledge to almost all demigods that dreams sent by the gods shouldn't be brushed off lightly, usually holding deeper messages that would have a tight hold over events to come. so wether her cousin believed her or not, she knew it was not something to dismiss so easily. Lee, however, wasn't so convinced as the son of a god who loved to be a tease. He and his siblings would talk frequently about visions of their father's painfully long poems and haikus. though she wasn't a daughter of Apollo, she could imagine the deity simply going about his day before a shit-eating grin encased his face and his eyes dazzled in childish amusement as he remembered he had a little niece he could taunt with prophecies.

And besides, it wouldn't be the first time.

At the time she'd been nine, maybe ten, and summer had hit in blistering showers of humidity. She remembered how tough it had been to sleep that night; kicking off covers, trading pyjama pants for shorts and keeping the windows open whilst laced with fly-repellent to retract bugs. And just as she'd managed to sleep, she was greeted by an all-consuming light and a very enthusiastic masculine voice.

She stood in front of him, nodding encouragingly despite not having an idea what was happening. And before her, a grinning boy stood — around the age of eighteen—with a California-kissed look of golden blonde hair and rich, tan skin. In his hands, he held two pieces of paper.

One being a light hymn about how fabulous he was, and the other being a more rock n' roll themed song about something she couldn't remember. But she remembered picking the second option and having him chuckle in amazement, ruffling the hair on her on the head whilst beaming down at her with a: 'I knew I could count on my favourite little niece!"

but these dreams felt so different.

they were always of a boy, his back stood to her on more than one occasion though sometimes she did manage a glance to his features. to a pair of eyes that were perhaps more crystallised and vibrant than the very tide that pulled in and out in the corner of her vision. she wasn't too sure what it meant honestly, but her curiosity rendered commonly around the minotaur horn he always harboured.

Although her smile didn't falter, she kicked his leg lightly to which he winced. "I'm being serious. i mean," she glanced up briefly and lowered her voice into a momentary mumble, "you know there's something going on at olympus, it's been storming for weeks now. maybe... i don't know, maybe this boy knows something about that too. Chiron promised that when the right person came along--"

"i know." interjected the older, "you'd get a quest and a chance to impress Artemis, but didn't he say the same thing to your friend from the athena cabin, Annabeth? why don't you ask her about it, see if she's been having creepy dreams." his shoulders lifted in a shrug.

Her eyebrows creased, "she'll think i'm weird or call me crazy. besides i already did and she told me she wasn't having any of the sort." she looked down sorrowfully, shaking her head. "By the way, we're on Athena's team for capture the flag. Luke told me he'd give me free piggybacks all week if we joined."

"I know, i want in on that." he waggled a finger at her, "but so what if she thinks you're weird? you are weird, and i love you for it." Lee dismissed, "and she loves you too, so i'm sure she'd be willing to give you a listen if you told her about it."

she sighed, grumbling as she dropped her head onto her crossed arms. Annabeth Chase was perhaps the epitome of knowledge cast in a pair of silver eyes and her mind was forged with the ability to scheme and craft the most intricate of designs and fabricate ideas that would be held in later archives and gazed upon with pride as they sculptured architecture that was yet to be built. there was worthiness in her posture, greatness in her blood. she was what a demigod child should've been; what they do desperately strived to be and from the perspective of Colette Archer, she seemed to do so with ease.

"I don't know." she fought the urge to pinch at the skin around her nails. it was a bad habit and would only destroy her cuticles, as stated by one of the cabin ten girls, Silena. "i'll think about it."

Whether he noticed the slight dejection coating her features, he didn't express. he nudged her lightly. "Good, you should think about it later." he shrugged, throwing an arm over his younger cousins shoulder as they moved to exit the dining pavilion, "let's talk about what's actually interesting, you paying the stoll brothers to take and hide Clarisse's spear."

"how'd you know about that?" her head shot towards him in surprise. the stoll brothers were two biological yet not twin brothers from the hermes cabin, infamous for being masters of trickery and tamers of mischief. She could've sworn nobody else knew about it bar her, Travis, Connor and, "Will?"

"Yep." he steered them towards the Apollo cabin. "Clarisse is still in a rage so i'd be carefully if i was you."

She brushed him off, twirling her mothers ring and with certainty in her eye, she grinned. "i'm always careful." he laughed in response before he began rambling about his latest interests and though feigning interest, Colette couldn't deny the burning intensity of the conversation still plaguing her mind.

maybe it was his own dislike for the man, but for the will of his life Percy Jackson could just not understand the reason why his mother would ever marry a man as grotesque as Gabriel 'Gabe' Ugliano.

He knew, despite only being twelve, there was no possible way his hatred towards his step-father could simply be the resentment that brew at the thought of a third member of the household that wasn't his biological father. Gabe was a selfish man, always had been and always would be, that much was clear in the vibrantly green eyes of Percy Jackson. With his unkept physique and volatile smell of outdated garlic pizza wrapped in gym shorts, Gabe Ugliano was just about as ugly as his last name. He had all about three strands of hair on his dry scalp, all combed back in a poor attempt to make himself appear more handsome as he took a large swig of his beer followed by a cough of his burning cigarette. Given his sickening smell and appearance, Percy had taken to calling him Smelly Gabe when he was younger, and he still continued to do so behind the man's back.

Gabe didn't deserve Sally Jackson, nobody did. Sally was like the warmth of snuggling in front of a fireplace in the midst of winter, hot cocoa warm in your hands and a red and black checkered blanket thrown over your shoulders. She was the personified figure of familiarity in the awakening of dawn, constant and always glowing with a tender smile. She was too good for this world, and Percy couldn't understand why the earth couldn't adore her as much as he did.

He also couldn't understand why she was so adamant on Gabe being in their lives.

He wondered what it'd been like if his father were still around to look after them instead of leaving them to suffer under Gabe's unloving care. Percy couldn't remember his father, for all he knew the man was long gone and buried though his mother would always remind him that his father, whoever he was, had been lost at sea.

Not dead, lost at sea.

But still Percy couldn't grasp the concept of the man ever having the courage to leave behind a woman such as Sally Jackson. She was effortless in her care, sowing beads of love into all of her actions and treating her son with the utmost adoration despite his troublemaking behaviour. Sally Jackson was almost too good to be true — an angel in the form of his mother. Her hair fell in soft locks of tousled brown, interlocked with faint streaks of grey that dipped between the curls of her hair that contrasted to the waterfall of blue that embraced her irises, changing in the sunlight to a softer shade. She was beautiful—strikingly beautiful, and Percy believed she deserved somebody as strikingly beautiful as herself.

but wouldn't it be better if it was just the two of them again? He knew it was hard for his mother dealing with a son who suffered from both ADHD and dyslexia, not to mention who had a streak of causing trouble and getting expelled from over six schools in under six years — Yancy Academy being the latest of the list.

He thought back to the school, back to the events that had occurred inside the museum. It made him frown in frustration as he recalled how both his best (and only) friend Grover and favourite teacher Mr. Brunner had brushed him off so easily, treating him like a child who had told some unbelievable story in hopes that somebody would believe him. Because Percy jackson was certainly not crazy, he knew what he saw and wouldn't be persuaded otherwise. He shivered as he recalled how Mrs. Dodds, his pre-algebra teacher had asked to speak to him alone, only for her skin to stretch and shrivel into a nauseating grey as two large and leathery bat wings broke free from the prison of her back, and she snarled at him in demand of something he couldn't understand. Then, Mr. Brunner had passed him a goddamn pen that had transformed into a freaking sword and he had somehow used to vaporise his pre-algebra teacher!

His skin shivered at the thought.

He scowled faintly as he watched Gabe lug down his mother's bags towards their car, the mother and son duo having decided to leave for a small trip to Montauk without the pressure of the man lingering over them. The journey to Montauk was dripping in nostalgia, fractures of forgotten memories and happiness reappearing in the reflection of his mother's bright eyes. New York may've been overrun by Gabe's gambling and the suffocating grip of cigarette smoke, but Montauk — montauk was theirs.

He felt himself ease into the reminiscence of when it had simply been just the two of them, free from Gabe's nasty clutches. Upon arriving at montauk, sunset had taken rest over the horizon, coating the skyline in a flaming amber and gold and the two found themselves lost in their blissfulness, strolling along the beach before sufficing their hunger on a boatload of blue candy and marshmallows by a crackling fire.

From where they sat, side by side and chewing on their individual bags of blue jellybeans, Percy turned to his mother whilst mustering up the courage to ask about what had always been on his mind as they busted montauk. His father.

"He was kind, Percy," she reminisced softly. "Tall, handsome, and powerful. But gentle, too. You have his black hair, you know, and his green eyes." She fished a blue jelly bean out of her candy bag. "I wish he could see you, Percy. He would be so proud."

Percy's eyebrows creased as he looked to his own bag of sweets in thought. He wondered how she could think so much of him, as though he was an angel who could do no wrong. What was so great about him? A dyslexic, hyperactive boy with a D+ report card, kicked out of school for the sixth time in six years.

"How old was I?" Pondered Percy after a thoughtful moment of silence. "I mean ... when he left?"

Sally exchanged her gaze to the fire before her, her maternal gaze locked tightly onto the flames. "He was only with me for one summer, Percy. Right here at this beach. This cabin."

"But... he knew me as a baby."

Sally frowned softly, though it didn't seem burdened with sadness but rather with fondness. "No, honey. He knew I was expecting a baby, but he never saw you. He had to leave before you were born."

Percy grew quiet again for a few moments, his mind tracing and fantasising any sort of imagine he could grasp onto of his father. He remembered... something. A glow, so warm and homely that it warmed his chest like the flames of the fires in front of him. He frowned as he took in his mother's words — he'd always believed his father had seen him at least once, but to now know that his father had never even met him... he scowled in resentment of the man.

"Are you going to send me away again?" Percy inquired quietly. "To another boarding school?"

The woman pulled a marshmallow from the fire before replying gently, "I don't know, honey." Her voice was heavy. "I think ... I think we'll have to do something."

"Because you don't want me around?" Percy's words brought forth a frown in Sally's expression, and he felt regret flood through his bloodstream in a tsunami of melancholiness.

Sally's sapphire-coloured eyes welled with tears. He felt the soft warmth of her hand envelope his, her thumb brushing against the skin of the back of his as she squeezed it tightly. "Oh, Percy, no. I—I have to, honey. For your own good. I have to send you away." Her words reminded him of what his teacher, Mr. Brunner had said—that it was best for him to leave Yancy.

"Because I'm not normal," grumbled Percy, his jaw clenched as he bit back a scowl. An indescribable annoyance spilled through his eyes, not directed to his mother but rather to himself. What could've made him so unnatural that his mother couldn't even keep him around?

"You say that as if it's a bad thing, Percy." Sally's expression grew saddened by the look upon her son's face, "--But you don't realize how important you are. I thought Yancy Academy would be far enough away. I thought you'd finally be safe."

"Safe from what?"

She met his curious gaze, and a flood of memories came back to the raven-haired boy—all the weird, scary things that had occurred within his childhood that had left their scar within his mind before falling into nothingness, forgotten until the very moment he grew to recall them. Until now. The man in a black trench coat who had stalked Percy from the playground of his school in third grade, only turning away after being threatened with the police. Yet nobody had believed Percy when he claimed the man only had one eye on the middle of his forehead. Another memory flashed through his mind, back to a much earlier time where his mother had picked him up from pre-school, screaming when she noticed the limp, scaly rope snake that was in Percy's cot, the boy having somehow managed to strangle the creature with his small baby hands. In all his schools, something had happened.

He debated telling his mother about Mrs. Dodds, or the old ladies at the fruit stand, but had quietly decided against it — fearful it would end their trip.

"I've tried to keep you as close to me as I could," explained Sally. "They told me that was a mistake. But there's only one other option, Percy—the place your father wanted to send you. And I just... I just can't stand to do it."

"My father wanted me to go to a special school?" Percy guessed, his eyebrows raised in question as he glanced to his mother.

"Not a school," she said softly. "A summer camp."

Percy's head swirled with nausea, a heavy breath escaping his lips as he replayed his mother's words like a broken record that ceased to come to a stop. A summer camp, that's really where his father wanted him to go?

"I'm sorry, Percy," her voice trembled, seeing the look in her son's eyes. "But I can't talk about it. I—I couldn't send you to that place. It might mean saying good-bye to you for good."

"For good? But if it's only a summer camp ..." his voice faded into silence, his words dying on his tongue.

She turned toward the fire, and he knew from her expression that if he asked her any more questions she would start to cry. Instead, the two grew fond of the silence, lulling away to the essence of sleep before any more words could be shared.

percy woke with a jolt, the shiver of his dreams painting his body in a tremor of prickly goosebumps up and along his arms. He brushed off the thought of his dream, his eyes squinting in the darkness as he pushed away the thought of the vicious eagle's beak aiming down upon the horse's wide eyes.

A roar of thunder lingered outside the window, slamming trees harshly against the glass as though something was trying to break the serenity inside the house. A gasp followed the sound, his mother's eyes wide in surprise as she groggily took notice to her surroundings, "hurricane." She mumbled in realisation.

Percy raised a surprised eyebrow. Long Island had never seen hurricanes so early in the summer. But the ocean seemed to have forgotten. Over the roar of the wind, Percy's ears registered a distant bellow, an angry, tortured sound that made his hair stand on end. Then a much closer noise, like mallets in the sand. A desperate voice—someone yelling, pounding on the cabin door.

Sally sprang from her place, her nightgown trailing after her airily as she opened the lock on the door, revealing a terribly out-of-breath Grover Underwood. Except... he didn't look like himself. He heaved, "Searching all night! What were you thinking?"

The woman turned to Percy in terror, her expression pale and her eyes wide as though her son had just confessed to murder. "Percy," she demanded, her voice raised to be heard over the rain. "What happened at school? What didn't you tell me?

Percy stilled noticeably, his mouth agape yet no words dared to be uttered. His gaze turned to Grover, his expression morphed into perplexity as he stared at his older friend. "O Zeu kai alloi theoi!" Grover yelled. "It's right behind me! Didn't you tell her?"

His greek curse grew muffled against the thumping of Percy's heartbeat, the Jackson boy's eyes continuing to burn holes into where Grover's pants should've covered his legs, but instead, his legs resembled that of a goats. Though her son was lost in shock, Sally was quick to dart closer to him, "Percy. Tell me now!" Her voice was sharper than Percy had ever heard it.

He stammered out something along the lines of Mrs. Dodds, the museum and the women at the fruit stand, and all Sally could do was stare in utter horror, her face void of warmth as she looked ready to sprint out the door into the blackness of the night and never return. She ran to grab her purse, tossing Percy a rain jacket that he was barely about to catch before sending a sharp order to the two boys, "get in the car! Both of you. Go!" The two didn't need to be told twice — well, Grover didn't, Percy seemed a lot more resistant though he never doubted his mother's orders, especially under her terrified expression. Yet Percy felt himself grow cold as he finally realised why Grover could run fast yet still limp slow. Because where his feet should've been, there were cloven hooves.

The rain splattered cruelly against the windscreen of the car, cackling with the sharp sizzle of thunder that stormed over the skies ahead. From where he sat beside Grover, Percy continued to sit pale, a permanent frown laced onto his lips as he wondered wether he'd actually lost his mind.

The only words that dark-haired boy was able to mutter was a fearful, "So, you and my mom... know each other?"

Grover's brown eyes shook as he spared a look to the rear view mirror before responding, "Not exactly," he replied, one of his legs shaking with the anxiety of somebody who was being chased by a lion. And looking back on it, Percy wished it was a lion. "I mean, we've never met in person. But she knew I was watching you."

"Watching me?"

Grover winced at how it sounded, quick to explain, "Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn't faking being your friend," he added hastily, his eyes wide as he appeared almost fearful of how Percy would perceive him. "I am your friend."

"Urn ... what are you, exactly?"

"That doesn't matter right now."

"It doesn't matter? From the waist down, my best friend is a donkey—"

"Blaa-ha-ha!" Percy's eyes grew wide at the inhuman sound that escaped Grover's throat, a sound that could only be uttered by that of an animal. Sure, Percy had heard it before, but that was assuming it was a nervous laugh. But now he really realised how animalistic the throaty sound was. "Goat!" He was quick to correct with an offended squint of his eyes, "I'm a goat from the waist down!"

Percy looked at him, his eyes narrowed and his jaw falling slack. "You just said it didn't matter!"

"Blaa-ha-ha! There are satyrs who would trample you underhoof for such an insult!" Grover scolded, shaking his head as though Percy had wished death upon his whole family.

The car carried on dangerously down the murky road, a suffocating chill coating their spines as they conversed about what had truly happened at the museum — about what could and couldn't be shared and the final crumble that had finally been deep enough to crack the foundation Percy's life had been built on, sending it spiralling into madness as the car passed by a 'pick your own strawberries!' Sign on a white picket fence.

The summer camp. The one Percy's father wanted him to be sent to.

"Those weren't old ladies," Grover corrected, once Percy had made a sharp pass at how ridiculous it was that the remaining two were frightened by such. "Those were the Fates. Do you know what it means—the fact they appeared in front of you? They only do that when you're about to..." Grover paused, realising his mistake, "--when someone's about to die."

Percy glowered at him in disbelief, pointing a trembling finger at the satyr as he replayed his words. "Whoa. You said 'you.'"

"No I didn't. I said 'someone.'"

"You meant 'you.' As in me."

"I meant you, like 'someone.' Not you, you."

Finally Sally interrupted with a shriek, "Boys!" She pulled the wheel hard to the right, and Percy's eyes dared to narrow upon a glimpse of a figure she'd swerved to avoid—a dark fluttering shape now lost behind them in the storm. Fearful, Percy demanded an explanation only to be met with his mother's pleas of a repetitive 'please.'

A minute passed by at most, grasped in the grip of anticipation and adrenaline until a blazing flash resounded from the vehicle, met with a ferocious boom as the car flipped onto it's side, rattling the occupants into a state of trepidation. For a moment, Percy was sure the car had exploded in a fiery graveyard of smoke. Placing an aching hand to his forehead, Percy let out a small groan as his head thumped at the collision with the back of the driver's seat. "Percy!" He registered his mother's shout.

"I'm okay." He wasn't sure he was. But he was alive, and that's what he was forced to repeat to himself. He glanced back to the windows, noticing that the car had swerved into a ditch rather than exploded, but the roof had closed in on itself and allowed teardrops of rain to leak into the car like acid drops of tar. Lightning. That's what had hit the car.

Turning to his, now half-conscious, best friend, Percy's eyes grew wide at Grover's bloodied lip and dazed expression, the satyr whining about his need for food as he lay slumped in his seat. "Percy," his mother yelled once more, "we have to..." Her voice faded as they turned to witness the harsh rumbles of something lethal emerging towards them, dragging itself through the rain in search of the vehicle — in search of them.

"Percy," Sally shivered, her expression holding nothing but a seriousness that he hadn't seen before. "Get out of the car." Without a second thought, the woman threw herself against the driver's-side door. It was jammed shut due to the affects of the mud, as was the one beside her son. He looked up desperately at the hole in the roof. It might've been an exit, but the edges were sizzling and smoking and left Percy with churning anxiety.

"What?"

Another flash of lightning, and through the smoking hole in the roof Percy witnessed the large tree she meant: a huge, White House Christmas tree-sized pine at the crest of the nearest hill, looking and standing protectively against trespassers.

"That's the property line," Sally gulped. "Get over that hill and you'll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don't look back. Yell for help. Don't stop until you reach the door."

"Mom, you're coming too." Percy interjected, though his mother only shook her head back at him. Her face was pale, her eyes as sad as when she looked at the ocean.

"Climb out the passenger's side!" She ordered desperately, her teeth clenched in discomfort. "Percy—you have to run. Do you see that big tree?"

"No!" Percy shouted. "You are coming with me. Help me carry Grover." He pleaded, gesturing down to the satyr who continued to groan hopelessly about food.

The ground thumped as the creature stalked closer, surrounding them like a predator would it's prey, and in the midst of the forest, Percy felt like nothing more than that. Prey for the creature, with the horns far too big for it's head, to devour.

"He doesn't want us," she choked on a breath. "He wants you. Besides, I can't cross the property line."

Percy was quick to try and make an argument against his mother, "But..."

However, Sally continued to plead with her son to leave, to run as fast as his legs would carry him and to never look back. But Percy Jackson was stubborn and deadly loyal, so he grit his teeth whilst ambition seeped into his gaze, and he pushed open the door on Grover's side of the car before ordering his mother to journey with him. Surprisingly, Grover wasn't as heavy as Percy anticipated, yet with his mother rushing over to drape one of the satyr's arms over her shoulders, Percy knew the help was necessary to escape the clutches of the bull-like creature.

With a sharp glance back, Percy's face fell as he was given a clear shot of the creature. Seven feet tall and his body amplified in muscle that Percy didn't think was possible for a human to adorn. Two black and white horns picked through the skin of his head, resembling that of the devil as he looked closer, the thick fur of his upper body doused in rainwater yet he never slowed, his dark gaze malicious as it blazed back at the boy. And his snout, which was about as long as Percy's arm, was home to a brass ring. Whatever it was, it sure as hell wasn't human.

And then it dawned on him. It wasn't human at all. "That's—"

"Pasiphae's son," Sally was quick to intervene with her son's astonished statement. "I wish I'd known how badly they want to kill you."

"But he's the Min—"

"Don't say his name," she interjected once more, her voice low in warning as she spared a shaky glance over her shoulder at the beast. "Names have power." She stated, and once Percy questioned why the bull-like creature had taken to inspecting the car rather than turning to them, she responded quickly, "His sight and hearing are terrible — he goes by smell. But he'll figure out where we are soon enough."

As if on cue, the bull-man bellowed in rage. He picked up Gabe's Camaro by the torn roof, the chassis creaking and groaning. He raised the car over his head and threw it down the road. It slammed into the wet asphalt and skidded in a shower of sparks for about half a mile before coming to a stop, the gas tank exploding in a range of ambers and golds.

Not a scratch, Percy remembered Gabe saying.

"Percy," Sally glanced tiredly to her panicked son. "When he sees us, he'll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way— directly sideways. He can't change directions very well once he's charging. Do you understand?"

Percy's eyes pierced her own with surprise, raindrops pouring over his skin and creating an almost teardrop-like affect on his cheeks, "How do you know all this?"

Sally glanced down, guilt consuming her in waves that threatened to drag her out to a sea of anguish, "I've been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me."

"Keeping me near you? But—"

Another bellow of rage, and the bull-man started tromping uphill, his abnormally large nose having tracked their scent. The pine tree was only a few more yards, but the hill was getting steeper and slicker, and Grover wasn't getting any lighter for the duo, who's arms had begun to ache with the weight of his body.

Sally let out a pained grunt, exhaustion burdening her features though he continued to push forward as she snapped, "Go, Percy! Separate! Remember what I said."

Percy frowned reluctantly but didn't make any move to argue, instead separating from his mother as he grew aware of the beast's dark eyes narrowing on him. The monster lowered his head and charged, his razor-sharp horns aimed straight at Percy's chest. And thought fear froze his veins, Percy lunged to the side as the beast dived for him.

The bull roared in frustration, choosing to terrorise Sally instead — the woman having been lowering Grover to the ground before she turned to acknowledge the beast. The bull-man grunted, pawing the ground. He kept eyeing the boy's mother, who was now retreating slowly downhill, back toward the road, trying to lead the monster away from Grover. "Run, Percy!" she ordered frightfully. "I can't go any farther. Run!"

But Percy didn't move, frozen in utter horror as he watched the monster close in on his mother, who attempted to sidestep as Percy had done, yet the beast was quicker—wrapping a furry hand around her neck. He lifted her high, her legs kicking and pummelling the air to no avail. Percy called for her as his muscles aches to chase after her, yet she only managed one final word for her son, "Go!"

Then she was gone. Dissolved like grains of sand discarded on an idle beach. Gone. She melted into nothing more liquified gold, her body turning into nothingness before she vanished as though she'd never been there at all.

"No!" Percy's gaze, once filled with dread, had now been blinded with anguish. He snarled as he watched the monster round on Grover, inspecting him as he reached towards the unconscious Satyr. Percy couldn't simply allow that, instead ripping off his red rain coat and dangling it in the bull's line of sight before calling out to him loudly.

The idea in Percy's head, the mildly stupid one, had occurred faster than he could've blinked. The monster had rushed to him, and he had now somehow ended up on it's hairy neck. And before the boy could gain control, the Minotaur slammed into the tree, almost knocking Percy out like Grover had been — who now started groaning once more about food, and Percy had the urge to scream at the boy to 'Shut up!'

The bull pawed at the ground again, ready to swallow Grover whole as though he were a piece of stake. It angered Percy to no end, his frustration building in waves, in floods, in whirlpools of despair that forced him to reach forward, grabbing the creature by one of it's hard horns and pulling backwards with all his might. The monster grunted in annoyance, tension noticeably building befo—snap!

An excruciated wail of inexplicable pain pierced through the atmosphere (and unbeknownst to Percy, alerting a young brunette who paused from her place on the porch steps, glancing into the darkness apprehensively before continuing in.) and Percy was suddenly thrown towards the awaiting ground below, his head smashing hard against a rounded rock. Yet as he glanced down, his vision blurry and his hearing muffled, he felt the weight of a horn in his hands.

The horn of a Minotaur.

It charged towards him again, heaving with vengeance as it crashed down on him, ready to rip him apart with it's giant, foaming mouth, until another streak of pain appeared under it's ribs. Percy had stabbed it with it's own horn. The bull-man roared in agony. He flailed, clawing at his chest, then began to disintegrate—not like Percy's mother had done in a flash of golden light, but like crumbling sand, blown away in chunks by the wind, the same way Mrs. Dodds had burst apart.

The monster was gone.

The rain had stopped as though it had only chosen to stay for entertainment and was now bored at the lack of such. The storm still rumbled on, but only in the distance. Percy grimaced as he welcomed the scent of livestock that stained his clothes and his knees were shaking, threatening to give way at any moment. He honestly felt the urge to cry, to lay down on the floor and sob for the warmth of his mother's comfort. But he couldn't (though tears did pour along his cheeks), not whilst he had Grover thrown half over his shoulder, the two of them stumbling into the camp.

As he stumbled up onto the porch steps of the house, his legs gave way painfully and allowed himself and Grover to fall flat onto the wooden porch below. And though his consciousness dared to disperse at any given moment, Percy found himself staring into the eyes of a familiar bearded man and a pretty girl no older than himself. They spared each other a glance before the girl inched closer to him, kneeling down with a gaze of curiosity as she inspected him, and had he had more energy he may've thought to care about his shaggy appearance.

"It's him, Chiron. The boy." He heard her say, her face graced in surprise. "I know it is."

The mans stern gaze landed on her before falling back to Percy, "Quiet, Colette. He's still conscious, bring him inside."

And then it was darkness.

( authors note ) :

this actually took so much longer than I expected tbh I've had it written for almost two weeks now but there's something I don't really like about it. Maybe cause it's like 2/3 Percy and it was meant to be 2/3 Colette but I had a section I didn't like so.

I've written up to chapter three by now (which I actually like the next two chapters a lot more than this one) cause I'm real excited to get into the main plot and I was gonna publish chapter 1 & 2 at the same time but decided not to cause I've still gotta edit it

Idk why I was so anxious to publish this but we move :)

thanks for reading <3