Chapter Text
“Give it back!!” a young boy yelled, tears springing to his eyes. “Percy give it back to me now!”
Percy Jackson, the boy in question, was currently sprinting down the stairs of a rickety old staircase. He jumped the last few steps, grabbed his backpack from where it was lying on the floor, and dashed out the door.
OOF!
Or not.
“Perseus Jackson! What do you think you’re doing!” Percy gritted his teeth. He hated that name. He looked up to the cold, black eyes of the woman he had crashed into.
“Nothing, Martha, I was just-”
The young boy ran up behind him, panting.
“Mom!! Percy stole my book!” he cried, tears now freely running down his cherubic cheeks. His curly blonde hair framed his large, blue eyes, which were glistening with tears.
“That’s not true, you bitc-”
“Percy! How dare you speak to your brother that way!” The woman, Martha hissed. “Give Cecil his book back, right now”
“It’s my book. It’s my textbook for Latin class. In fact, does Cecil even know how to read yet?” Percy snapped.
Before Martha could make another cutting comment towards him, Cecil cut in. “You don’t need it anyways,” he responded with a smirk. “As if you’re going to pass Latin anyways.”
Just as Percy was about to do something, like strangle the young boy in front of him, Martha grabbed Percy by the scruff of the neck and shoved him out the door.
The last thing Percy saw was the heavy wooden door slam in his face.
“Family issues again?” Grover asked with a sympathetic frown.
Percy and Grover were following the rest of their class to the large, orange school bus that was parked at the curb right outside their school. Percy had actually started the day excited - Latin was one of his favourite classes, and Mr. Brunner’s field trip was bound to be more interesting than another day of algebra formulas and boring history lectures.
“He’s not my real brother,” Percy snapped. “And she’s not my real mother. I just live with them.”
“In foster care. He’s your foster brother. And she’s your foster mother.” Grover responded quietly.
Seeing the look on Percy’s face, he quickly changed the subject.
Percy was grateful for Grover, his only friend at school. Ever since Percy transferred to Yancy Academy at the beginning of the year, the two misfits had stuck together. Percy, the designated foster care child, and Grover, the poor coward who looked way too old to be in grade 7. But together, somehow they made it work. Bullies also quickly learned that Percy was not someone to mess with.
Soon, they were on the way to the National History Museum.
Once there, Percy’s day only got worse. Even though it was kind of interesting to hear Mr Brunner talk about the different Greek Gods and the Greek heroes, he couldn't help but feel like Mrs. Dodds, their math teacher who was also a chaperone on this particular trip, wanted to kill him more than she usually did. This left him with a feeling of uneasiness that wouldn’t go away.
For some reason, Mrs. Dodds hated him. Sure, Percy wasn’t the best student, but he didn’t think that he had done anything that would explain how she glared at him with her horrible, bottomless eyes. Or how she would try to punish him for every single fight he had with Nancy Bobofit, as if he were the one who started them.
Now, Percy tried to ignore the burning sensation at the back of his neck and tried not to imagine the short, stout, leather-clad math teacher trapping him in detention after class and murdering him.
“... can you tell me why, Percy?”
Crap. He had missed Mr Brunner’s question. He was tempted to give a smartass comment, but he actually liked Mr Brunner.
“I’m sorry sir, I wasn’t listening.” He said, cheeks burning.
Mr Brunner gave him a deeply disappointed look.
“Well, Percy. You’ll have to do better than that for the exam that’s coming up.”
Percy seethed in anger and in disappointment. At himself, at Mr Brunner and Mrs Dodds, but mostly at himself. It was at times like this that he thought it would have been better to have died with his mother, at childbirth. He hated the fact that he was stupid, with his ADHD and his dyslexia, and how he was stuck with a “mother” and “siblings” who didn’t love him or want him. Sometimes Percy deluded himself with dreams and hopes of his father, who apparently was still alive. He dreamed of a rich, powerful man, who would someday come back for him, and tell him that he loved him, hug him.
But right now Percy faced reality. Reality was that if Percy didn’t pass his classes, he would be kicked out of Yancy Academy, and no other schools would want him next year. Then he would grow up to be homeless and/or dead somewhere. Before he could commit himself to paying attention to the rest of Mr Brunner’s lecture, Grover nudged him.
“Pst. Hey Perce, I really need to talk to you about something,” he said, his eyes darting around nervously. “Later, though.”
Why did Grover seem nervous? He almost seemed as though he was expecting an attack or something.
“Yeah, sure, man.”
Later at lunch, Percy and Grover sat at the edge of the fountain, away from the others. A huge storm was brewing above them, the grey clouds swirling menacingly, as they had been for several weeks now. They watched the typical New York traffic slowly trickle past them.
Percy said, “So, what did you want to talk about?”
Grover blanched a little and put down his half-eaten sandwich on his lap. Uh-oh. If Grover was putting his food down, then it must be serious.
“Percy…”
Before he could continue, a shadow fell over their faces. Percy looked up. It was Mrs Dodds.
“Now, honey,” she said with a saccharine smile. “Come with me.”
Percy looked at Grover questioningly. He didn’t think that he’d done anything today to earn the ire of Mrs Dodds, but hey. It was like he said, Mrs Dodds hated him. Percy shrugged and stood up. What was one more detention?
Grover shook his head frantically, eyes wide.
“Please Mrs Dodds, I’m sure Percy-”
Mrs Dodds cut him off. “Now, honey.”
She beckoned Percy back towards the entrance.
All he could do was follow her, shrugging helplessly at Grover who was desperately trying to get Mr Brunner’s attention.
Inside the museum, Mrs Dodds was leaning against a Greek statue. Percy felt a shiver go down his spine, at the look in her eye, which was completely unreasonable. She was just a teacher, an old lady. She couldn’t actually do anything to him, right?
“Perseus Jackson…” She hissed, a strange growling sound coming from her throat. Her eyes were locked onto him. “You must be strong, child… I could smell you even from Hades’ realm.”
Percy backed away slowly, his mind racing. He wasn’t a stranger to adults who had dipped their fingers into mind-altering substances. Mrs Dodds had obviously had her share of hallucinogens today. Now, what was the best course of action? Maybe he should just indulge her. Also, he was sure he didn’t smell that bad.
“Hades’ realm? So, that’s where you’re from? Wow, really suits you, huh?” Percy blurted, without thinking.
Her eyes screamed murder, and she bared her teeth. Belatedly, Percy thought that maybe he should learn to hold his tongue in the future.
Slowly, her eyes began to glow, and large, leathery wings sprouted from her back. Percy stared uncomprehendingly at the shreds of her leather jacket falling to the ground. Her fingers sprouted into talons, and her teeth stretched into fangs.
Before he could react, Mr Brunner rolled into the room, his eyes taking in the situation grimly.
‘Mr Brunner!’ Percy wanted to scream. Was he seeing the same thing Percy was seeing?
With one swift movement, Mr Brunner took out a pen from the lapel of his jacket and tossed it to Percy.
“Uncap it, Percy!”
Percy did.
And suddenly, in the place of the pen, was a gleaming, bronze sword.
“Die, honey!” Mrs Dodds - the bat creature thing flew right at him.
Time slowed down, and Percy felt his heart stop. Watching the saliva dripping down from Mrs Dodds yellowing fangs, he did what felt most natural. He swung the sword and took off her head in one swift movement.
She exploded in a shower of yellow dust, leaving the smell of sulfur, as well as the feeling that Percy would never be safe again. The beautiful bronze sword clattered onto the floor, echoing in the large chamber.
He didn’t realize he was crouched on the ground, shaking, until he felt a hand on his shoulder.
Percy looked up into the worried eyes of Mr Brunner.
“Come, Percy. We have a lot to talk about.”
Percy sat in Mr Brunner’s office back at Yancy Academy, his hands wrapped around a mug of chamomile tea. He stared blankly at the small, white flowers drifting around in the water.
Grover paced around the office, chewing at his nails nervously, speaking frantically with Mr Brunner who sat opposite of Percy.
“... A kindly one! From the Underworld, I knew she was a monster, I should have done something! I-”
Mr Brunner held up a hand. “You did admirably, Grover Underwood. You alerted me as soon as there was trouble. Percy is safe.”
Percy couldn’t understand what was happening. He had killed his teacher. Who was actually a bat monster. And now his best friend and favourite teacher were acting like this was supposed to happen.
Mr Brunner turned to Percy, his eyes solemn.
“I’m sorry, child. There is so much you don’t know, so much I need to explain. Perhaps if you had known earlier, you would have been more prepared for what happened today. Let me start at the beginning.”
Percy nodded. Grover stopped pacing and sat as well, looking at Percy anxiously.
“Percy. You know how this year we have been discussing the Greek gods, and the ancient Greek myths.”
Percy nodded again. “Yeah, like Zeus and Poseidon and Hera and all those people.”
A loud rumble came from the sky, making the grey storm clouds seem even more menacing. Mr Brunner looked up to the sky anxiously. Grover whimpered.
“Gods. They are not people, Perseus, they are Gods. You mustn't forget the distinction between mortals and immortals.”
Percy grew angry and leapt to his feet.
“Is your stupid Latin class all you care about? I killed my teacher today, who also happened to be a bat creature who tried to kill me, and you knew I would be in danger! And you did nothing to help me, all you did was give me a pen!”
His chest heaving, Percy felt tears spring to his eyes.
Mr Brunner’s eyes look weary. Suddenly, he looked a lot older than Percy thought he was.
When he spoke, his voice was hoarse. “Perseus… I am sorry for everything you’ve been though. Such is the life of a half blood. There is only so much I can do for you poor children…”
Suddenly feeling exhausted and lightheaded, Percy sat down.
“Tell me everything.”
And Mr Brunner did.
About the ancient Greek Gods and the Greek monsters who were apparently real, and still a major player in Western civilization. About how apparently all those myths he had been learning about throughout the year were all real, not myths, but history.
And the scary thing was, Percy could actually believe it. It explained Mrs Dodds, and the one-eyed man he saw when he was younger. It maybe even explained the aquarium he flooded in grade 4, or the bus he exploded the year after.
“But Mr Brunner… what are you then? What am I? And Grover - I still don’t understand.”
Mr Brunner and Grover shared a look. Wordlessly, Grover shed his pants and his running shoes, and flattened out his hair a little. Percy believed everything that Mr Brunner had told him, but it was still a shock to his core to find out that his best friend had donkey legs. And teeny tiny horns coming from his head.
“You’re a… you’re a…” Percy stuttered.
“A satyr.” Grover supplied. “And Mr Brunner…”
Percy turned to see Mr Brunner rise from his wheelchair, standing higher than an average man, the rest of his body coming out of his chair. And from the waist down, Mr Brunner was a horse. He was so large that his body pushed the table off to the side, forcing Percy to stand up.
“I am a centaur.” Mr Brunner said unnecessarily. “I am Chiron, trainer of heroes.”
Chiron put a hand on Percy’s shoulder.
“And you, child, are a half blood. A demigod. A child of a Greek God, and a mortal.”
Now this Percy couldn’t believe.
“Me? A child of a God.” He said in disbelief. “You know, I think I would have known if I was half-god. I mean, I’m not special in any way. I don’t feel… godly.”
Grover cut in and said with a rush, “But you do know, Percy. You suspected. Why do you think the Kindly One was in school this year? Monsters are attracted to the scent of demigods, and their scent only gets stronger the more you realize the truth about yourself.”
Before Percy could make sense of what he had just learned, Chiron cleared his throat.
“I promise, Percy, that you will learn more soon enough. But we must leave now, we have already lingered here for too long.”
Grover was already putting on his pants and shoes, and Chiron eased himself back into his wheelchair box.
“Where are we going?” Percy demanded.
“Camp Half Blood.”
After convincing a teacher to act as their personal driver (“It’s called the mist, Percy, you will learn it eventually”), Percy was dropped off at his house to grab anything he wanted to take with him to camp. Apparently Chiron decided that Percy had no need of finishing his school year.
“Will I be coming back?” Percy had asked Chiron, thinking of the cold, unwelcoming atmosphere of his home. Chiron, with a knowing glint in his eyes had responded, “Many campers can and do stay at Camp Half-Blood all-year round.”
So now Percy was shoving as much as he could into a large box - not that he had much. Clothes, underclothes, his school stuff, and a small box. The small box contained a few pictures of a beautiful, smiling woman - his mother, as well as a small, dried sand dollar.
Not wanting to bring anything else with him, Percy left the house key on the front table, closed the door, and joined Grover and Chiron in the car. He was secretly glad his foster family wasn’t home. Percy hated goodbyes, not that he had anything he wanted to say to them anyways.
“Let’s go.” He said, and they hit the road.
Throughout the drive, Chiron and Grover continued to explain more about demigods and Camp Half-Blood. Percy felt marginally better knowing that there were kids at camp just like him, who also had ADHD and dyslexia. Maybe he could fit in here.
“But Chiron, in the myths, the Gods used to have demigod children all the time. Like, I remember learning about at least 10 kids of Zeus alone. How come you said there are only a hundred or so at Camp Half Blood?”
Chiron shifted in his seat. Percy suspected that his fake wheelchair wasn’t too comfortable, especially when shoved into the other teacher’s tiny sedan.
“Well, some kids are born from minor gods, such as Nemesis. They are usually not too powerful, and could go their entire lives not knowing who they really are. And Camp Half Blood is not the only camp for demigods there is, you know. There are thousands of demigods in other camps all over the world”
Percy was surprised. “Really? Then why am I going to Camp Half-Blood, and I don’t know, not some other camp in New York?”
Chiron laughed. “Camp Half-Blood is the only one in New York. Besides, you would not fit in at the other camps, Percy. Camp-Half blood is for children with Greek gods as parents. There is Camp Jupiter for Roman demigods in San Francisco, as well as camps for Norse gods, Egyptian gods… Demigods are everywhere, if you know how to look.”
Percy wanted to press for more information about the different camps (weren’t the Greek and Roman gods the same gods? How could they have different kinds of children? And how did they know that his godly parent was Greek, anyways?), but Grover jumped into the conversation.
“Also Percy, there’s one more thing you should know. When you mentioned Zeus having a lot of children in the past, that is true.” He looked at Chiron. “But some years ago, there was a war. Greek Half-blood children of Zeus and Poseidon against half-blood children of Hades. The Big Three Brothers. Zeus and Poseidon’s children won, but due to the war, so much was lost. Afterwards, they swore a sacred oath to never have children again. Their children are much too powerful, you see, and could cause insurmountable damage to our world.”
“Oh, but that’s good then, right?” Percy asked. “If their children really are that dangerous, then it’s better for them to not have children at all.”
“Ah yes, but Zeus broke his oath, many years ago, with a television starlet. He sired a little girl named Thalia.” Chiron supplied.
Percy felt a flare of concern. “But… you just said children of Zeus started wars. I thought that the oath prevented him from having kids!”
“Yes, Percy, but the nature of promises sworn on the River Styx is… finicky to say the least.” Chiron said, giving Percy an inscrutable look. “We are never sure how the punishments from Styx will manifest. But I promise you, Thalia will not be the last child of the Big Three born, oath or no oath. That is the nature of gods.”
Soon, they left the bustling nature of central New York and started passing by quaint farm houses, and acres of trees.
“We are almost there.” Chiron said, leaning forward, as if in anticipation. Percy also noticed Grover looking more eager the further they drove. “It has been so long since we have been back at camp.”
A thought suddenly struck Percy. “Wait… Chiron, Grover. Were you guys at Yancy Academy for the entire year... Because of me?”
“Yes, Percy. Grover was there first, and he called me as soon as he realized how powerful you are. It has been a while since I have made a house call for a potential camper.”
Percy swallowed a lump in his throat. He asked the question that had been stuck in his mind for hours now. “Chiron… Do you know who my father is? I mean, if i’m really as powerful as you say, then my father must be powerful as well, right? So you must have an idea of who he is.”
Chiron said without looking at him, “No one knows who your father is except for him. You will know who it is when he claims you.”
Chiron was lying to him, Percy realized. He knew who his father was, and for some reason he didn’t want to tell him.
But there was no time for that now. The driver pulled up beside a grove of pine trees, and they got out. Percy wasn’t sure what Chiron did, but a second later, the driver was headed back in the direction they came from, back to Yancy. He followed them up the hill, until they reached the top, where a large pine tree stood, standing proudly.
“Percy,” Chiron said. “Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.”
The view took his breath away. The camp was huge - There was an open-air pavilion, an amphitheatre, and an arena, all done the style of Ancient Greece. They were surrounded by groves of trees surrounded by gently rolling hills, a stream.
It was the most beautiful place Percy had ever seen.
They headed down towards a large, white building with a wraparound porch. As they passed, Percy saw campers decked out in bright orange t-shirts, playing volleyball, racing up a lava wall, and sparring. As Percy passed by they all stopped and stared at him, whispering. He stared back at them unabashedly, his sea-green stare making them turn away.
They reached the wraparound porch, where a short, stout man was sitting in a Hawaiian shirt. He sat across the table from a different satyr, playing a game. The man almost looked like a cherub, with his chubby face, red nose, and curly black hair. He looked disdainfully at Percy as they approached, and nodded to Chiron.
“So this is the boy who kept you away for so long, Chiron.” The man said, peering closely at Percy’s face. “Oh I see… Yes, I understand now.”
Percy cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the sudden scrutiny. “I’m sorry, sir. What is it exactly that you understand? And why were those kids staring at me just now?”
“There is one more thing I haven’t told you yet,” Chiron admitted. “The reason why the other campers were staring at you, Percy, is because they are awaiting a hero.”
Percy waited for him to continue, but Chiron only looked at him.
Percy broke the silence. “What do you mean waiting for a hero? And why do they think it’s me?”
Chiron sighed. “A few weeks ago, the Master Bolt was stolen - the symbol of Zeus’ power. No one knows who stole it or why, but regardless, Zeus needs it back. He sent out several of his children to search for it - Apollo, Artemis, Ares, and Athena. None of them were successful.”
“Alright,” Percy said slowly. “Now what does this have to do with me?”
“After his godly children were unsuccessful, Zeus decided a demigod would have more success. You see, demigods can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they are brave enough. Gods, however, cannot go on each other’s territories without permission. So Zeus decided to send his daughter, Thalia, on a mission to retrieve his Master Bolt. However, when she went to get a prophecy from the Oracle, it stated that she would need another camper on her team, a young boy, who would arrive at camp in the coming weeks. A camper of which the mission would fail without. And you, Percy, are the only new camper who has arrived for months.”
“Woah, back up.” Percy shook his head, feeling out of his depth. He had just arrived a few minutes ago and now they were talking about sending him on a mission? “Still, how are you sure that it’s me? Another camper could arrive, say, tomorrow.”
Chiron looked steadily at him. “I believe that it is you, Percy. The other lines of the prophecy only make me more sure of that fact.”
Before Percy could ask about the other lines of the prophecy, the cherubic man yawned exaggeratedly.
“Well, I think the boy knows enough for now, Chiron. Peter Johnson, welcome to camp, my name is Mr D, Dionysus, if you will, blah blah blah. Someone please show him to Cabin 11. Now get out of my face.”
And that was Percy’s introduction to Camp Half Blood.