A/N: Hello, everyone! It's been a long time since anything was posted from this account. For those of you who are new, my name is Whitney, and this is sort of a new and improved version of a fanfic I wrote several years ago. It comes in two parts: this story, and the point of view of Elena, Emilie's best friend who falls in love with the god Apollo. That story is also posted on this account, called Rolling Waves, Turning Tides. written by my best friend Riley. We decided to rewrite our stories based on the fact that we're a bit older now, and that it would be a fun thing to do. Also, really, in honor of the new Apollo book.

A bit of background information: these fics take place a couple years after the last series. As in, Percy is older and already in college, Apollo is a god, and Mr. D is back at Camp Half-Blood. We have read the new book, but because we don't know what will happen, we're pretty much ignoring the new series for now. So there shouldn't be any spoilers.

Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, but I do own Emilie Reynolds!

When I was twelve, I wanted to go to art camp. Instead, I got Camp Half-Blood.

At first, I had no idea what the difference was. I was pulled into the living room by my parents, sat down on the couch across from a stranger, and told I was eligible to go. Two weeks, he had said, lots of activities. Arts and crafts, swimming, things children like these days. Practically free.

Of course, I was ecstatic. At twelve, I was a fairly sheltered kid. My mother, Carmen, was a strict accountant who was suspicious of everyone she met. Even if the camp was free, I knew, no matter how excited I was, that she would never, ever say yes.

Except, the strange thing was, she did.

I had begged her to go, and she was fairly easy to break down, much easier than usual. The second she said yes, I was off the couch and already in my room, off to gather my things. I was halfway through packing my suitcase, full of too many socks and not enough shirts, when I realized how weird it was. My over-protective mother, who would barely let me go over to Elena's house, was letting me go off by myself?

Usually, I would have had to beg my dad, or my older brother Sam- nine years older and already in college- to escort me around the subway. Elena's house was where I ended up the most, mostly because her mom was the only person my mother ever got to know, and also because she was my best friend. My mother didn't really have much of a choice but to trust her, even if Elena's hippie mom was the complete opposite of herself.

By the time I got downstairs, I was half-ready to jump out the door and half-ready to clutch to my mother in a hug and ask to stay behind. The man, who my mother had said was the camp director, was gone. In his place was a young, lanky kid, with a ballcap on his head and enough spare hairs on his chin to be around Sam's age.

He didn't say much as he helped lead me outside of my building. As I peered over the balcony, I could see the large white van parked down below, and it was the kind I couldn't see the inside of. I looked to my mom, suddenly nervous, and a little afraid. She kissed my forehead and told me to be safe, to have fun, and I walked out the front door. Her normally sharp eyes looked a little glazed- a few years later I would learn it was the work of the mist.

Inside of the van, the air conditioning was on full blast, combating the hot summer day, and the man who was inside my house was in the front row. I couldn't get a very good look at him, but the first word that came to mind as I passed by was grumpy. All I knew was that he didn't look too happy to be there, and he was the only adult on board. The others counselors were like my brother, teenagers in high school or college. Then there were the rest.

I joined ten or so other kids, most of which were chatting amongst were all around the same age as me, some a little younger. I sat on my own, lonely seat as the teenager who helped me in shoved my backpack and suitcase into the trunk.

Across from me, a boy with bright red hair bounced in his seat, hyper, and full excitement. I didn't think that was too weird, but the kid next to him looked like he was having a midlife crisis at age eight.

The excited boy noticed me staring, so he grinned, turned to face me, and asked, "Who's your parent?"

His foot didn't stop bouncing against the floor. His Nike sneakers, at one point in time white, were covered in dirt. "What do you mean?" I asked, glancing back at my house, noticing that the van was starting to move.

"You know, your godly parent?"

I frowned at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."

His smile didn't seem to falter, even though I wasn't anywhere near as happy as him. "Of course you do! You know how, like, one of your parents is a god?" He scooted closer to me, all the way to the edge of the seat. "My mother is Demeter. I totally knew my step-mom wasn't my real mom, she and my dad got married when I was four, but Mr. D and a satyr came into my house and told me all about my real mother!"

He laughed and pointed to the man at the front of the bus as he spoke. He was the same man who talked to my parents, where they had a conversation long before I made my way downstairs. My heart felt cold in my chest as I thought over his words.

Instead of answering, I turned back to look out the window. Several things about the situation weren't adding up, and at the time, I couldn't figure out what exactly was wrong. There was no singular thing that I could put my finger on.

The most confusing part of the whole situation was probably the fact that the next stop was Elena's apartment, which was only a few blocks away from mine. She sat towards the front, which I was thankful for because I was lost in my thoughts. The rest of the kids were strangers to me, and yet Elena was pulled into whatever was going on too. I wondered if I should've been happy or upset.

The kid had said his mother was Demeter, which was an odd name. It sounded old, or foreign, or something, like I should have read it in a book somewhere before. The only problem with that was the fact that I was super dyslexic, and it's unlikely that I read it in anything. Not to mention that he said his mom was God, and my mother would have had a hissy fit if he heard that- or was it god, lowercase, not omniscient, but something else entirely?

Later, I found out his mother was the Greek goddess Demeter, and the man who had been in my house was the god Dionysus, the first god I had ever met. Which was actually an extreme disappointment, in terms of gods to meet.

But, overall, the conversation in the van lessened the blow when we all got to Camp Half-Blood. No matter what angle they chose, what they told us there, on that first day, changed our lives forever.

Chiron, who greeted us as we exited the bus, was short in his wheelchair. He looked warm and friendly, with a thick brown beard and kind eyes. His gaze ran over all of us as if he was counting numbers. There were more people that came on the bus after Elena was picked up, and I finally caught up to her, walking at her side as we were led to a room with a large projector screen. They gave us the basic orientation film, which looked like it was made in the fifties and titled, The Gods and You.

It told us, basically, that the gods from Greek mythology were real, and one of them was one of our parents. It didn't tell us who, or what, but I could take a pretty good guess as to which of my parents wasn't mine by birth.

You see, my mother, Carmen, looked identical to me. We had the same dark hair, the same tan skin, and even shared the same curved nose. However, my eyes weren't hers nor my dad's (step-dad, I had to start correcting myself). My eyes were so dark they were almost black, and looked a little sunken, sometimes seemingly emotionless. On several accounts of teasing, I was told my eyes looked soulless. My under-eye circles weren't too dark, but they definitely matched.

I assumed that my mother would have had this talk with me when I was older, when I wasn't twelve years old, but it was forced on me a little early. Phil wasn't my biological dad, and when they lined us up later that night at dinner, I found out my real dad was Hades.

I guess maybe I should back up a bit.

Phil was my dad. Even on paper. He raised me, took care of me, and we did all sorts of things together. He used to take me on little walks when I was a kid, looking for cool rocks on the trails. He met my mom in Cuba and had my older brother, and when I came around, he sacrificed his life from his hometown and original place of business in New Jersey and moved us all the way to Manhattan, where he got a well-paying job (though it didn't happen right away- he started trying to get promoted when I was a few months old and ended up getting it when I turned eight.) It wasn't the comfortable, home life that he had wanted, but law paid well at the time. It was lucky that he got the job, though, because little did he know, a demigod kid would be expensive.

When I was three, my wooden crib had spontaneously collapsed and fallen apart into pieces. My parents called for a factory reorder, and ended up with a metal one instead. When I was seven, my brother's car (old, and worn, but useful to a sixteen-year-old boy) had erupted into flames. When I said that I saw someone with three eyes running from the scene, my parents hushed me and then told me I had an overactive imagination.

In third grade, when I met Elena, these weird occurrences became more and more frequent. It amazed me, how slim of a chance it was that she and I ever met at all. We ended up in the same classroom, with the same teacher, who was ancient and losing her hearing. Since then, we'd been attached at the hip. It was only fitting that we ended up being literal family.

That is, Elena was claimed as the daughter of Poseidon at the same time I was claimed as a daughter of Hades. Cousins, even if the gods didn't actually have DNA.

The thing about Elena is, actually, the fact that her mother had been telling her who her father was the whole time. Growing up, I pretty much lived at her house, and I would overhear the things her mom would say. Hippie stuff, my mom called it disapprovingly.

Donna Westlie would talk about auras, would read our palms, would teach us the best ways to meditate and said that even the students in her yoga classes didn't get this kind of Buddhist teaching. And sometimes, every once in awhile, she would sigh, and get wistful when she mentioned Elena's father. She had told us that he was Poseidon, but Elena had told me a long time ago that her mother didn't remember who her dad even was, and made stuff up so Elena wouldn't feel left out.

I didn't really think about it until after we were claimed. At least one of our parents was telling the truth. I wasn't sure how I was going to look my mom or Phil in the eyes when I got back home after my first two weeks at camp.

Even though we were practically family, Elena and I looked nothing alike. Growing up, her hair was dark, but our junior year of high school she stopped cutting it and bleached it bright blonde. Elena was also a few inches taller than me, towering over my short, five-foot-four frame. Her eyes were light and sparkled like the sea, and her hair had a wave in it like the incoming tide. She was beautiful in a way I was not, and often shone like the sun.

In junior year, I also had a big change. My hair, which had fallen down to my waist, was cut short. I cut it to my ears, which was possibly a huge mistake. By the time the end of senior year rolled around, it hung straight and cropped right above the line of my shoulders. I was told I was beautiful, too, just in a different way. My skin had always been naturally darker, and I had always been able to pull off dark lipstick in a way that Elena never has. The pair of us looked like the sun and the moon whenever we stood side-by-side.

But at age twelve, we weren't nearly as grown. Elena and I were brought to Camp Half-Blood only days after the giant storm that hit New York, otherwise known as the demigod war. We weren't involved in the fight with Kronos, too young and still obliviously influenced by the mist. But because of a deal made with the gods, a bunch of us in nearby states were gathered up by some camp counselors, satyrs, and Mr. D, and we were brought to be claimed.

Mr. D was only there to influence the parents that didn't know their kid was a demigod, like mine. My mother had no idea who- or what- my father was. Satyrs got the easy job, with mothers or fathers who knew the gods as they truly were. My introduction to the world wasn't so lucky, and Mr. D had to use the mist to convince my overbearing mother to let me go.

The group of us had watched the orientation video, walked out of the room dazed, and went straight to the dining pavilion for dinner. We didn't get a very good look at camp on our way there, as it was getting dark. Before everyone ate, we were lined up in the front of the room and claimed. It was a short process, and not very dramatic, because there were so many of us. Our names were read off a piece of paper—all of them were said very wrong—and then told who our parent was. Well, not told. Claimed. As our name was read off, a symbol appeared over our heads.

I was hoping for something cool or interesting, like Hermes, or Demeter- only a few of the names I heard as I passed. Instead, I was stuck with the unfortunate luck of having a black skull rotate above my head for a good thirty seconds. I traded in my nice, kind of dorky, dad for the god of the dead. I remembered the way my head whirled, as the axis of my world tilted over, and I would always remember the stares that I got when I sat at my lonely table that first night.

Elena was lucky, she got to sit with her new brother, Percy Jackson (who was supposed to be a big shot, or something. Nobody really filled us in until our second summer there, where we were there for the full two and a half months.) It was a week into camp that I was told I actually had a brother- another brother- at all.

The whole thing didn't feel real to me for a very long time. The concept of gods never really sunk in. I couldn't wrap my mind around it, around these super-powerful beings, and how one of them was supposedly my father. The father who hardly ever went out of his way to speak to me, and who I had only met once.

It was the winter after my first summer of camp, and my brother, Sam, and I were decorating the Christmas tree. My mother was super religious, coming from the mainland of the island, and I was pretty sure that's why my father had never revealed himself to her.

But on a random day- during my winter break, where I was trying to live my life as normally as I could- there was a knock at the door. I didn't pay much attention to who it was until my brother started arguing with them.

My dad, Phil, was at work, and Sam tried to block the doorway between the stranger and our house. Looming over him was the tall dark figure of a man, who pushed him to the side with a hand to his face and stepped through the small doorframe. I had never seen him before, but I recognized him instantly. It was Hades, dressed only in a black suit despite the fact that it was snowing outside. He and I made eye contact, and it was the first and only time I've seen my eyes on another person.

Sam shouted at him, threatening to call the cops, but I could hear my father trying to diffuse the situation. "I just want to speak to the girl," he said in a low voice, and the sound of it sent chills down my spine, different than the cool wind coming in through the open door. Something about it made my brother stiffen and shut down, like an intense version of the mist.

There was no choice but to let him in, and he handed me my coat, hanging off of the railing of the stairs. "Walk with me." It was not a request.

I quickly slipped into my boots, my coat, and joined him. We took the outdoor elevator down to the main ground in silence, and I couldn't help but examine him as he stared straight forward. He was not a particularly attractive man, and I was lucky to have only inherited my eyes from him. I only hoped that they would not reach the dull expression that seemed to permanently rest on his face, the expression that was etched into stone and painted onto canvases all throughout history.

He started speaking when we began to walk beside the busy street. He spoke simply, telling me this: his children never ended up happy. My path was my choice, and mine alone, but all of my past siblings ended up living a tragedy because of their decisions. I remembered his final words the most, "I have chosen to claim you as my child, do not disappoint me."

That was the first and only time I've ever met him.

His warnings governed many of my actions as a demigod. Like every teenager, I didn't always listen, but unlike my brother Nico, I never took a single step into the Underworld. I never learned how to shadow travel, a powerful, yet dark ability. However, I couldn't help my connection with the dead. It wasn't something I could control at first, but something I kept secret from everyone except for Chiron and Elena. According to the rest of camp, I was the most useless child of the Big Three, the image I had intended.

Still, I couldn't help but keep a bookshelf of ancient texts in my cabin. My collection didn't start growing until my second summer, mostly because my cabin wasn't built until then. Nico had slipped me my first book for my birthday, and it was an ancient, yellowing thing, which motivated me to do well in my ancient Greek and Latin language classes.

So far, it's been five summers. Elena and I, eighteen for a good few months now, just graduated high school. Camp changed a lot in that time. The summer we were claimed was the only summer that there was a mass-claiming session. After that, Zeus went back on his promise (big surprise) and kids stopped being claimed. The Hermes cabin started building up again, and for the first two weeks before my cabin was built, I had to spend my time there. It was cramped and hot, and I was thankful for my empty and cool cabin the following year.

Every summer, we'd learn new tricks and skills. I excelled at a bunch of things, including knife training, capture the flag, and my favorite activity, macaroni art. I wasn't too good at the canoes or riding a Pegasus, but I've dipped and dabbled in pretty much everything. There was nothing that I didn't try.

Every school year, Elena and I would attract monsters due to our scents. Two children of the Big Three was pretty much a bright, fluorescent sign that said EAT ME! Chiron had insisted that we separate, or that both of us stay at camp full time. I tried that one year, when I turned fourteen, with the excuse to my parents that I was off at boarding school. After two awkward, back-to-back relationships- a son of Hermes and a daughter of Athena- I was ready to go back to regular, mortal school.

Which leaves me at graduation.

Demigods are known for dying young. In the war, there were a ton of deaths, and after that, the current campers were dedicated to keeping the newbies alive. There was extra training, and a lot of teaching, as everyone prayed to their parents to make it back to camp the next year. Elena and I were the same, making it through day by day, until finally, we finished high school.

Graduation wasn't a particularly exciting event, not after living through one of the most brutal games of capture the flag of all time. But my parents, and my brother, showed up, and Elena's mom showed up, and even Nico, who I spotted hiding in the shadows, managed to come as well. Elena and I were dozens of students apart, but we cheered and woo-ed for each other as we both walked and received our diplomas.

My family took me out to dinner afterward, and when I got home, I started to pack for camp. In fact, I stared at my suitcase, lying on my bed half-open and unfolded, and wondered what happened from here. Elena and I were both registered for college in the fall, and Chiron had Iris-messaged me before the school year was over, asking if I would take over and teach the macaroni art class.

Responsibility was approaching, but instead of facing it, I took one look at my mostly-empty closet and grabbed my short black dress. Before Elena and I went to camp, we were going to take on one celebratory night out, and go clubbing.

After all, what could possibly go wrong?

Thanks for those who stuck through this introductory chapter. Coming up is the real fun stuff ;) Please feel free to review and follow this story, any commentary would be appreciated.