AN: Hi guys! It's been a while since I did this as I got blocked out of my account so yeah. Check out BobLikesChocolateWaffles to see my old story. Well, I've been talking long enough. On with the story!

Disclaimer: I am not American or rich and great like Rick Riordan. I am just a lonely British teenager.

Ancient Sparta

462BCE

Spartan Princess POV

She dashed through the woods, trying to escape from the angry mob behind her. She reached the coast, desperately trying to save the little bundle in her arms.

She gently placed the child in the receding waves, whispering under her breath. "Please Poseidon, save our son from these people who do not understand." She stepped back before watching in disgust as the baby was unceremoniously dumped on the beach by a wave. What kind of father didn't want their own adorable son? She turned to her last resort, praying it would work.

"Please Hestia, goddess of family and Artemis, goddess of young women and childbirth, which my child has only just exited, protect my son and take him in as your own. He has done nothing wrong and has been rejected by his father, Poseidon. This is my final desire and I wish that he will be happy and loving even though I will not be there to witness it." The bundle glowed red and silver before it disappeared and her face curved into a sad smile before she felt a spear run through her back.

3rd Person POV

Unknown to the woman, after the rabble had left, her body dissolved in balls of glowing lights which flew up into sky in the image of a woman holding a baby.

2481 years later (although Percy has aged 12 years)

Percy POV

"Mom!" He shouted.

"Yes honey?!" Came a sleepy reply. "Can I go to Auntie Hestia again today?" There was a faint chuckle followed by a groan. "OK but next time can you just wait and not wake me and all your sisters up two hours early. It's 3:30!" He gave a loud cheer but then let out a meek "Sorry Mom," then he started to do his victory dance silently in his tent. "Oh and Percy?"

"Yeah?" I answered quizzically. "You better not be doing your victory dance in your tent otherwise you're on whetstone duty for the rest of the week!" I immediately stopped and started to get changed for the day.

I decided on camp trousers, a muscle shirt and my custom silver, red and black leather jacket from my birthday last year. It was enchanted to adjust itself to the size of whoever was wearing it. I undid the flap of my tent and stepped outside only to be met with the fearsome glares of the infamous Hunters of Artemis and Artemis herself, my Mom, all of them sporting tired and unimpressed looks.

I smiled sheepishly before bolting in the other direction, trying to escape the wrathful girls. Sadly, I knew it wouldn't work so I dived into a bush and hoped that Phoebe, our best tracker, wouldn't find me. However, it was all in vain as they found me with ease and dragged me back to our camp by my ears. "OW! Owwwww! OWWWW! That one really hurt!" Was what I was screaming the whole way back.