She didn't know when he started noticing him. Crescent, daughter of Hephaestus, was clueless as to why she suddenly began to watch him. All she knew was that she began seeking him out, switching classes just so she could be near him.

He was an enigma. A puzzle, one Crescent found herself was trying to unwrap, despite her own wishes.

He was pale skinned, and while not weak, it was obvious that he wasn't a child of Ares, or any of the more athletic gods. He had warm eyes, eyes that were a color that noone could put a label on. His hair, short and soft looking,was brown, with tints of bronze that you could only see in the sun.

He was the peacemaker at the Hermes cabin. When fights broke out, ( an often occurrence, with the many thieves that lived there,) he would be the one to sort things out, the one to calm everyone down.

There was something about him. When around him, even when you were angry, you never felt like hurting him. You felt almost the urge to protect him.

He was good at virtually nothing that might be a sign of his godly parent. He couldn't shoot a bow, couldn't fight with a sword, couldn't make things with his hands, couldn't control water (thank the gods, the last thing we needed was another Percy Jackson), couldn't wrestle or run fast, couldn't make things grow. The counselors(and the campers) had no clue what to do with him.

Dionysus suggested that perhaps that the satyr who had picked him up had had a stuffy nose that day. That ticked some of the satyrs off, but of course, none of them said anything.

So time went on. People kept guessing at his parent, and he went on just...living.

She learned all this by asking around. Oddly enough, it took a while to find someone who actually knew his name:

Tabish.

Crescent wondered why she bothered. She certainly had enough on her hands as it was. As a daughter of Hephaestus, she was constantly in the forge, forging new weapons for the upcoming heroes of the decade.

His 13th birthday was drawing near, and people were already placing bets, though most didn't, mainly because there wasn't the slightest indication of where he might end up. The majority of the ones who did, however, argued that Hermes seemed the only logical choice. There were a few, though, who believed he might even be a child of Aphrodite! (Most likely, she thought, because Aphrodite's children typically didn't have particularly powerful gifts.)

"When you consider it," My friend, Sharara, from the Hecates cabin commented, "it's only natural people would take interest. Everyone's wondering who fathered-or mothered-him. Everyone wants to know where he belongs, and why he's displayed no talents so far."

It was a common question around camp. Everyone was buzzing the day of his birthday.

Tabish himself seemed to take no notice of the stares he was receiving at breakfast. As he went up to dump an offering for the gods in the fire, you could tell everyone was wondering what god he was praying to.

Nothing happened after breakfast, or at lunch, or even in the evening. Just as he was finishing another horribly gone wrong sword fighting lesson, Crescent approached him for the first time.

"Are you worried?" she asked quietly.

His brow furrowed.

"Why would I be worried?" His voice was quiet and gentle.

He really didn't know. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Aren't you worried about your claiming?"

"Ah," He said, understanding in his voice. He glanced over at the meal tables for a moment, than looked back at her.

"I wouldn't worry about me, Crescent." He walked off.

A few seconds passed before she realized her mouth was hanging open. She closed it with a grimace. How had he known her name? She had never talked to him before, and she had been careful to keep a distance between them as she watched him.

Wow. That last sentence made her seem like a stalker.

Grumbling profanities to herself under her breath, Crescent stalked back to the forge.

Dinnertime came around. Everyone was tense. Tabish was at ease, chatting with the Hermes cabin.

Then, it happened.

She was suddenly engulfed in flames exploded around them, dancing around them without burning anything. It spun and cackled around them in a whirlwind of orange and red.

Crescent could feel the others' awe around her. She herself felt slightly fearful, having known the pain of uncontrolled fire. She had plenty of scars on her hands to prove it, a reminder of the consequences of a careless move.

Dionysus looked bored, not even worried over the fact that the campers he was responsible could get burnt to ashes. Chiron was focused on something else.

Someone else, she realized with a start as she followed his line of vision.

Tabish stood in the center of the meal area, flames swirling around him. It seemed to laugh as it spun about him, like a dog, joyful upon the return of its owner. Tabish did not flinch, simply looking on at Nature's element that had declared him Master.

Then,as soon as it had come, it was gone. The fire shrunk back to average size, the sweat from the heat on the campers' bodies the only sign that it had happened.

Before they had time to react, a calm, somehow small yet powerful voice announced,

"Let it be known and acknowledged, that on this day, the one called Tabish has been claimed for all to see."

Everyone held their breath, waiting to see what powerful god that could control fire claimed Tabish as their own.

Crescent swore, nothing would surprise her after this.

For stepping forward was Hestia.

Crescent knew the story of Hestia's role in the war as well as anyone, but truthfully, had never paid any attention to the little girl that the goddess chose to present herself as.

Hestia gazed at them with amused eyes.

"I find the dramatics rather pointless, but I found that it was perhaps the best way to truly confirm it. Doubtless, if I hadn't there would have been rumors of dishonesty."

Everyone, Chiron included, were completely, and utterly baffled. This was overwhelming for most campers.

One Aphrodite blurted out thoughtlessly,

"But aren't you a virgin goddess?"

And instantly blushed red as soon as the words flew out.

Hestia looked at her with no hostility.

"Peace. I know you intended no offense through your words. In answer to your question," She said, sweeping her gaze through the campers, "I swore long ago to always remain a virgin goddess. However, some years ago, thirteen to be precise, a young man swore himself to my name. It was through his dedication and loyalty, not love, that Tabish was born from the cinders of the hearth fire I eternally attend and care for. I had him delivered to the Hermes' cabin's doorstep, knowing that it would be best if he should go until now for his heritage to be revealed."

She spoke all this with a matter of fact tone. She strode over to Tabish, who had said nothing throughout this, seemingly growing bigger as she did. When she reached him, a full head taller than him and a graceful young woman, she pressed a kiss to his brow.

"I give you the gift of warmth, of welcoming, of safety and comfort,and, just in case you should ever need to protect yourself, control over fire. It will obey your every command. Use it wisely.

With these last words, she disappeared. I knew that tomorrow, she would be at the fire, tending it as always.

Silence. Finally, Shamara spoke.

"Well, we can never say we didn't know Tabish would be different."

We all nodded, and hoped for the best.

Not my best, but..! Review, please. Tell me what I messed up on, what I need to work on, and what I did properly.

Oh, in case anyone wants to know, I'm leaving Tabish open if you want to use him. Just mention me and send me a note of the story,

Did anyone guess who his parent would be? His name means, "Warmth, brilliance." A gold star if you guessed it right!

Thanks,

DrPepper.