To the people who've been reading my other stories, I'm sorry. This is a new story. Since I've been a serious writer's block when it comes to The Story Before the Beginning, as in I don't feel very happy with it anymore. As for Reincarnations…well, after MoA I have so many ideas flying around I just have to grab on to one and do something with it, and that is going to take some time. And after some history classes, I'm thinking of revisions to it too. Again, sorry. I hope you like this short story though. It's been in and out of my head since I first read The Lightning Thief, so I've been waiting long enough.

If anyone would like to correct my grammar, comment on my writing style to help me improve or point out any mistakes I made in the facts from the books, history, or from classic myths, please do. I would love it. If you stuck around as my Beta, even better. Thank you!

PJO and HoO do not belong to me. Only this idea does.

Prologue: Postbellum

Chiron POV:

As they always are, this war between the gods was terrible. After a while Chiron had gotten used to a camp torn to pieces though. Grown used to seeing the children he raised dying at a quicker rate than at any other time. But in some ways this war was worse for him. Before the Civil War it had been easier. The Campers were quicker to choose to fight together, a united and more closely knit group than before war, against the Romans. This time they killed each other, not a common enemy. But even this war was easier than this last part; the part after it was all done.

The peace after war was something he never got used to. The part where he stood in front of Camp for lunch, a trivial thing, really, and told them how wonderful it was to have the war end and have them all back. Because in reality there weren't many half-bloods back from the War. Many died, it is true, and sad, but many others did not want to come back to a place they would have to share with those they fought with. They did not want to come back to a place that may remind them of those who are dead. Chiron understood, as he always did, but, by the gods, it hurt his heart to know that his children did not feel happy where they were safest and should be happiest. Hurt more than knowing that so many demigods died in this pointless war. War. Wasn't it always pointless? Gods, if only he knew. Then he would tell them so. Maybe then they would listen.

Chiron looked at the Campers in front of him, listening to his insignificant speech. He had memorized it long ago; all he ever changed was the times, the places, the people, the reasons. He didn't need to think about it. Didn't need to consider what he was saying. And honestly his audience didn't seem to be giving it anymore thought than he was. The younger ones had little idea what was going on. The older ones that hadn't gone to war didn't see it as their elder siblings did. And those few elder siblings had other things on their minds. But they were all somber. Yesterday was for celebrating the end of war. Today was for mourning the fact that it ever existed.

Three quarters of the campers were younger then thirteen. Their mortal parents could hardly take care of them with the men at war and the women with jobs when the children attracted monsters. Chiron couldn't blame them. Camp was always safer, the better choice. Those older than thirteen were mostly women. Women, not girls. War makes everyone grow. Like the boys that one day were fourteen and the next claimed they were men of eighteen. There were always volunteers from Camp, even when the rest of the world stopped offering its children for war willingly. The gods' passion for the War seeped through to their children too much. There were a few, though, that hadn't been driven crazy by it. He caught the eye of fifteen-year-old, a son of Zeus by the name of Nikolas. He was crying, most likely remembering a brother that died in the war. Or maybe a sister or a lover that pretended to be a man so as to go. There were too many of those too. Chiron wanted to ask which it was after the speech, but he didn't. Some people liked to grieve in peace. He put the son of Zeus out of his mind when he sat down to eat. He didn't think of him as he organized the Campers back into routine, a routine most of the younger ones had never experienced. He put him out of mind as worked and tried to amuse the youngest demigods. He put him out of mind until he met with the Oracle of Delphi. And then the face of a crying child of the Big Three haunted him for a long, long time.

"The Second World War is finally over and you're still gloomy."

The voice had startled Chiron. His arrow flew and hit the target a frustrating millimeter off from the center of the center. He huffed as a few of the daughters of Apollo in his Advanced Archery class chuckled quietly. He knew they would tell other Campers, which was annoying, but it brightened his day to know that at least they may gossip. That was progress from the last week of silent tears. Even if it was at his expense.

He turned to look at the speaker. Elizabeth, the Oracle of Delphi. She was smiling.

"Some of us are still grieving the war," he replied.

She looked at him with bright eyes. "Some of us should celebrate peace. There isn't much between war these days."

Chiron frowned. And here he was thinking that the Oracle might actually bring happy news. What a foolish thought. He turned to look at the head of the Apollo cabin. A girl of sixteen in a short, yellow, dress almost above her knees with the red hair of the Irish. Alana. "Take this class for me. I will be right back. I need to talk to Elizabeth," he told her. Alana curled her lip at Elizabeth but nodded. So Elizabeth was making friends. Wonderful.

"Come. Let's talk." He led her to the strawberry field. The sun warmed his lower half as they walked, the forest smelled so sweat nearby, and he enjoyed the sound of the satyrs sweat music nearby. It was undeniable that there was a joy in having the gods happy again. But Elizabeth brought him back to reality.

"There is something coming, not for a while, I think, but it's coming," she commented, almost casually. She was pretending though. It was bothering her, which worried Chiron even more.

"Contrary to popular belief, I'm actually less gloomy then I was before. Things are looking up. Maybe I don't want to ask you what is coming," said Chiron. But he did want to know. It was a dangerous thing, wanting to know the future. Some are driven insane and some only make things worse trying to prevent it. But he needed to know.

Elizabeth was unusually patient, waiting for Chiron's question. She knew that it was coming, even as he struggled not to ask. Chiron could just see it in her eyes.

That sad look on the Oracle's face, a look he saw I thousand times on a thousand other young, clear-sighted, maiden girls drove him to it. He had lived too long to not know how this will all play out. So he took a deep breath and asked.

"Oracle, what is to come?"

Elizabeth's eyes began to glow green and bright and he knew that this girl in front of him was no longer Elizabeth. She was much, much older. And as she spoke with her multi-layered voice, the face of a fifteen-year-old boy came rushing back into Chiron's mind. A son of Zeus, a child of the Big Three.

"A half-blood of the eldest gods

Shall reach sixteen against all odds

And see the world in endless sleep,

The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap.

A single choice shall end his days.

Olympus to preserve or raze."

Crying. The child was crying.

Please comment and correct me where you think I need correcting. I enjoy that part a lot. Also, I might change things around later. I don't know. But I will add a chapter soon. This isn't going to be a long story. Thanks for reading!