A/N: H-Hi! *ducks* NOBODY KILL ME! I just can't seem to get this story right. Who knows when I'll update. Who knows if I'll start over again. Enjoy this while it lasts.

Prologue: I'm Sorry.

I know why you're reading this. I am so, so sorry. You don't have to forgive me, and I probably deserve that, for not telling you. This is my last gift to you. The full written account. Everything, every word, every thought. I hope you understand.

It started as it ended. With Fate.

Fate decreed that Chaos would give way to Order. From Order would spring all things.

Fate decreed that Oranus would be king, until the time came when he was overthrown by one of his sons. And though he tried to prevent that outcome,Fate'swords came to pass.

Fate gave the same warning to Kronos, overthrower of Oranus, and he too tried to thwart them. He failed, and our parents reigned.

All was good. All was well. But the Fates knew it would not remain so. They saw that Kronos would rise again, and that Gaea would bring forth her giants once more. They also knew that, when both those threats fell into slumber once more, a third would
rise from an even deeper grave. Chaos would seek to reign, to destroy all of Order.

This could not happen.

And so, they began to create a being that would defeat Chaos, who could control the power of Order, and who could keep the family of the gods, both Greek and Roman, together. This being would be the perfect middle ground, neither one, nor the other, but
both in perfect union. The Greco-Roman. But you know this already. You know that I, Alana Martins, am the Greco-Roman.

But this is the story you've never heard.

My mother's name was Savannah, and she was a starving artist. She hoped and prayed for the talent to make it big in Nashville, to become the singer she had always wanted to be. And that is how she summoned my father, Apollo.

He came to her and gave her inspiration, he became her muse. And when he left at the end of the summer, she had her career. And she had me.

She named me. She raised me. And all the while, she sang. Eventually, she fell in love with a mortal man, Evan, who had a younger son. They bonded over their music and their lost loves, and remarried. I gained an older brother, and we lived happily ever
after.

Who am I kidding? You know we didn't.

What comes next is hard. I want to tell you everything, to make sure none of it is ever forgotten again. But you know how hard that is. My brain and memories have been scrambled a few too many times, I'm not sure what is real or not anymore. But someare
too harsh not to be real.

When I look back to my farthest memory, the scene comes in fragments.

Fire and smoke and screams, those comes first.

Then pain, not of the physical world but, the pain of a broken heart.

The feeling of being abandoned, that there should be someone holding me telling me it's all right.

Finally the picture blurs into focus.

The burning wrecks and people in blue and yellow.

A lady in light blue is sitting next to me in the van I am in. She asks me if anything hurts or if I am dizzy. Words are lodged in my throat so I shake my head. No.

My eyes are fixed on a three figures in dark blue loading black bags into the back of another white van but this one without the lights, simply marked with the black symbols someone was teaching me, letters, words.

Years later I discovered that the word was Coroner.

"Mama" My voice is hoarse but I call for my family. The lady next to me turns her head.

"Mama? Evan, Bobby?" They were with me in that twisted wreck that was a car, Mama and Step-papa Evan and big half-brother Bobby.

The woman's eyes are sad and her voice is hushed when she says. "I'm so sorry, Alana, but they aren't coming back." I was barely five years old, completely and utterly alone in the world.

The next few memories are easier to remember, but not by much. After the crash I went to a lot of foster homes, none of them nice. I was still small, almost seven, and I didn't understand why this family was so mean to each other or to me.

I find myself staring at grey walls. My back is pressed against a door. Yelling, crashing and the sound of fists on flesh echo from outside. I am praying that he will forget I am here this time, that he won't hit me again. But then I see it,
a flash of hope at my window.

My guardian angel, Sunny. He holds a finger to his lips and beckons me to the open window. He looks like sunshine made into a person, golden skin, bright yellow hair, crystal eyes that sparkle. I am pale and sickly, compared to him, I am a leaf, fallen
from the tree. Brown and lost and oh so breakable.

"Do you want to leave Laney?"His words were the answer to every prayer I had. I nod furiously. He smiles and lifts me up and out of the bad house.

A lady in silver smiles at me and takes my hand. Looking up at her with adoration, I ask, "Are you another angel?"

Her brow furrows and she narrows her eyes at Sonny " That's what you told her we are?" Sunny shrugs and smiles. He does that a lot, like he doesn't know anything. I don't trust it.

She kneels and looks me in the eye. "Child, I am no angel. I am a Goddess. Artemis, Lady of the Moon and your aunt. And that man there," She nods to Sunny. "Is your father, Apollo, the God of the Sun."

That word, that real, prefect frightening word. Father. Like step-father? Evan who was sweet and gentle and kind and gave me candy and let me ride on his shoulders? Or like foster father? The man in the house, the other men who came before him, cruel
and throwing things at me? I watch him carefully, this 'father' of mine.

Apollo frowns, briefly, and I flinch. Then he waves he had over my head, making a shower of sparkles fall down around me. Now he smiles and hold out his arms. I run and fall into his embrace. This is right. What was I afraid of? How could I be afraid
of him?

"We are going to take you home Alana" Apollo, Father, whispers in my hair.

I pull back, horrified, "People say that my home!" I point to the low grey house. "Don't want to go back!" I am prepared to run and scream and bite my way out if I need to.

He shushes me and more sparkles fill the air. "You are coming to my home and you will never have to come back here, ever." I smile and we disappear from the brown yard.

This is where I enter a grey area, grey but filled with so much sparkling light. Memories become distorted and shine in rainbow colors, like oil on water. There is happiness and lessons and love. But also hidden things, despair and loneliness. I wish
I knew the truth, of what really happened before the day I was taken from my father's side and placed back into the world that had left me orphaned. That day is the only thing that is clear. My tenth birthday, two and a half years since leaving that
terrible grey house of yelling and crying.