Before Will Solace committed suicide, he decided to get in an argument with his step mother. Or, really, his mother's girlfriend. Or, some discriminative people would call her, his mother's partner. Either way, he got in an argument with a heavily obese, forty-year-old woman who had the brain cells of a frog. No, he corrected himself, better than a frog. More like a rock.

"What did you just say?" Patricia, his mother's lover interrupted. He looked up suddenly, pretending to blink stupidly as he eyed the so-called 'female'. Oops, he added to himself, didn't mean to say that outloud.

"Nothing," he lied quickly, his eyes pointedly looking out the kitchen window as he scrubbed one of the dishes in his hands fiercely. The sun was starting to dim and for the first time all day he started to get a queasy feeling in his stomach. When will he come? Will asked himself.

"Good, because I'm not dealing with no inconsiderate boy in my household-"

"My dad's household," he growled under his breath.

"Excuse me?" He tried to calm his clenched hands as he gripped the dirty plate. He had to breathe. How could such a horrible woman get his goat so easily? Calm down. His rescuer would be here soon and he just had to be nice for another ten minutes.

"Nothing," he muttered quickly. She gave a fat chuckle.

"Good you say that boy. I'm done with this 'my magical daddy granted my mom this house' nonsense. Your mother may let you get away with this Norse gods dung-" Greek gods. "but I'm not tolerating your filthy little fairy tales that you tell my children-" Poor things. "I might as well just send you to that mental institution full time that your mother sends you to during the summer." Good.

"Where is that dirty little boy anyways?" Will gritted his teeth angrily, this time holding his breath so that he wouldn't lash out as he let her continue. He didn't need her rubbing it in. "Let me guess, he hasn't answered your letters in months, has he? Still trying to find a shower in whatever homeless shelter he lives in?" He'll come, he thought as he watched the sun. "I swear, every time he drops over here he is wearing that silly little black shirt and looks like a girl with his long greasy hair. Doesn't he have a mother? Or does he just has a drunk-butt father just like-"

"He's not a dirty little boy!" Will snapped, swinging away from the sink and towards Patricia. "And his father isn't a drunk. And neither is mine." Within a second, he regretted it. He pushed himself against the sink quickly as Patricia's eyes flashed. He winced as her hand went up in the air, waiting for the blow, but her fingers merely ran down her thin, grey hair.

"Look at you, flinching like a little boy. How pathetic. Keep going, kid. Keep telling me about how wonderful your little friend is and how much your father isn't a loser. Do you see him here, hmm? I don't." Will felt tears blur his eyes as he noticed that the sun, just as Patricia had told him, had vanished. He broke his promise, Will thought. He told me he'd be here before the sun went down. Even if he didn't write back, I thought he would at least show up. "Maybe he realized, just like your momma did, that you were a weak, foul-"

"Stop!" Will finally screamed, slamming the plate that was in his hand and letting is split into a thousand pieces on the floor. "You can say anything about me, but if you say anything about Nico di Angelo-" Her hand swung at him, finally, colliding with his cheek so hard that he skidded to the other side of the kitchen and knocked his head into the cabinets that held his mom's favorite tea set.

"What? You'll tell your mother?" The woman laugh at him tauntingly. "Face reality, boy-that mongrel doesn't care about you. If he did than he would have arrived long ago." And then he did it. He'd admit it later – he went a bit too far, but there would never be an ounce of him that regretted it. He pulled out the powder that he had kept in his pants for weeks, promising to himself over and over that he would never waste it on her, and threw it. At first it simply opened and spilled all over her, nothing happening. He let out a shaky breath. The woman laughed again, making him shrink.

"Look at you, thinking flour is going to hurt me. Your mother told me that your father stopped giving her child support last year after he lost his job for being a disgrace, and look at you, just as delusional as him. Now-" But then she started shrink again. Literally. At first he could only back up into the kitchen door as he watched her slowly first just shorten in height, but then her body as a whole become smaller and smaller as she started to become unnoticeable in her large fitting in clothes.

"What the-What the-" Her voice was shaking. "Will! Will, what did you do to me? What is happening? Will-" He smirked slyly.

"Sorry, I can't help. I'm too delusional." He heard her shrill as he sprinted out of his kitchen and promised himself that he would go far, far away.

He was almost near the toolshed when he felt something catch onto his back collar and drag him back. At first he didn't murmur a word, and instead feel a light flutter in his chest, but then he realized that the hand yanking him back was far too large to be Nico di Angelo's.

"Woah, where are you going, skeleton?" A voice sneered. He turned his head and forced his blue eyes to face the monster behind him. The monster was much worse than any creature he had dealt with at camp – it was stronger than him, heavier than him, and had far better hand-eye coordination than Will liked to admit.

"Let go of me, Rodney." It was the only child that Patricia could fully say was hers. Most of the other kids in the household were half siblings of his, but Rodney was positively Patricia's favorite and only child. Apparently, some adoption agency actually let her adopt a poor baby and turn it into a monster. And oddly enough, despite not being biologically related, Rodney had a lot of similar traits as his mother – obese, a terrible personality, a complete bully when he isn't around someone he likes. And, most of all, completely hated Will.

"Or what?" Rodney snorted. "Your boyfriend is going to pop out of the bushes and save you?" Will blushed heavily.

"He is not-We're not-Let go of me!" Finally, Will was able to rip away from his grip, hearing the slight tear go into his collar.

"What do you want?" Will asked, breathing hefty breaths. "What? Are you bored today? Did you break all of your toys already and you just need to pick on me next?" But there was a gleam in Rodney's eyes.

"Nah," Rodney said casually, glancing at Will apprehensively, "I'm more curious on where you're off to, midget." Will watched his eyes glance towards the old shed that was about ten meters away from him. Beneath a ragged sheet right next to it, Will had his greatest possession – a 2014 Jeep Wrangler. Of course, Patricia would have never allowed him to have it since she was a biased freak if the mist didn't trick her idiotic eyesight into believing that it was a twenty year old beat-up pickup truck instead. It was the only thing that his father had ever given him as a birthday present and he knew that it would come in handy one day. If only he could go to the shed and grab the keys that were under the shed's mat so he could-

"Looking for these?" Will blinked and watched Rodney as he dangled his jeep's keys in the air. "I found these the other day under the mat. What are you planning, you little weasel?" Will swallowed. Patricia was hard to manage but the worst she would do is hit you. Rodney could do so much more – torture you, tear apart your possessions. Even worse things that Will is yet to talk about.

"Rodney, for the love of Zeus," Will said, his voice so small that it cracked. "I know it may be hard for you since you just always have the urge to make everyone despise you, but can you just-" But Rodney closed his fist around the collar of Will's shirt and yanked him. Will held up his hands innocently.

"Okay, okay, fine. I know we've never exactly been friends, Rodney, but I have a quest to start. My friend...I think something is wrong with him, so could you at least pretend to care and let me go?" At first Will thought he saw sympathy in his step brother's eyes but then Rodney laughed.

"You want me to let you leave so when Alice gets back from her spiritual retreat, she questions Momma on her ability to handle her kids?" Rodney demanded. Will smirked mockingly.

"I'll send my mother a letter and let her know that I escaped all by myself, thank-you-very-much," Will said sarcastically. The smile on Rodney's face vanished and he shoved Will so hard that he tumbled backwards and fell into a large puddle of mood. He groaned to himself.

"I'm so tired of you and your crap, Solace," Rodney snarled. "Momma always having to compete with you for her own wife's attention. All Alice talks about is how much she misses you and about your goddamn father, like he's some savior or something for knocking her up, and Momma takes it because she loves her. But you don't know how much your existence hurts Momma. You'd be better off dead." Will sat in the mud numbly. Despite the mud being shivering cold, he couldn't move. Was Rodney's hatred really that personal? Was his bullying more than just a game?

"Rodney, I'm not sure what drug you've decided to take this time," Will said slowly, "But you have to calm down. Go take a nice nap or something. I'm leaving, alright? You'll never have to see me-" But then Rodney released the keys from his hand and proceeded to go into his pocket. Will's eyes narrowed, incapable of seeing clearly due to the darkness.

"Rodney, what are you-" But then Rodney charged at him, and unknowing what was in his hand but was well informed that he was aiming something fairly pointy at him, Will rolled over on his side. Rodney, due to his miss, fell over in the mud headfirst. Quickly, Will grabbed the keys and dashed towards the car.

"No you won't, Solace!" Rodney screamed, straight on his heels already. Just as Will was close to his car, he felt Rodney's mud-covered fingers latch onto his collar. Will tripped back.

"No, Rodney, don't-" But then he heard a thud behind him. Will swerved around quickly. Rodney was on the ground, gagging. At first Will was silent, watching Rodney turn and hold his own throat tightly, as if trying to pull from an invisible force. He saw a light fog swirl around his body but Will was frozen.

"Rodney, are you okay?" Will heard himself say, looking at Rodney wildly. "What's going on with you?" But then Will looked back towards the car longingly. This was his chance, he realized. He didn't know what was going on with Rodney, but the gods were doing him a favor somehow. Why not take the opportunity now before he lost it? He ran towards the car, his hand on the door.

"Sol-ace, help! H-Help me!" He heard Rodney wheeze. Suddenly, he froze. Finally, the tables have turned. How long had Will longed for this moment? Five? Six years? But the victory made him feel paralyzed as something built in his stomach. Guilt. He licked his lips, trying to fight the urge to go back. I need to find Nico, he told himself. But as soon as he said it to himself, he found himself running towards Rodney. Quickly, he fell to his knees.

"You owe me big time, you pig-headed dunce," He growled, finally seeing the spinning darkness close up that was coiling around Rodney. It looked like chains that were made out of dark fog. He had never seen anything like it, but it was definitely beyond the mist. Quickly, he brought his hands to his lips, breathed into them, praying to Apollo that his healing skills were as good as they were during the summer because Gods know he hadn't practiced at all, and then murmured as he ran his fingers on top of the shadows circling his body, "Intereo." Without a beat the black shadows vanished from Rodney. Rodney bolt right up coughing, grasping for air. Will stood up, looking down at Rodney with something mixed with regret and worry.

"Are you…are you okay?" Will managed to say, breaking the uncomfortable silence after Rodney's coughs decreased.

"What did you do?" Rodney demanded, struggling to get up on his feet. "What did you-" But then Rodney stopped, and stared Will down in silence, as if contemplating. What was he supposed to say? That he was the son of Apollo and he had magical healing skills that no one, not even people at camp, could fathom? That he was probably one of the stronger healers that Camp Half-Blood had seen in centuries? Because Rodney already knew that as Will had sworn it a million times to his siblings, and chose to see him as his psychotic life-long nemesis instead.

"Go," Rodney said finally. Will stared at him for a moment, tempted to know what was going on his head, and didn't believe him, but then nodded.

"Peace," he said as he ran to his car and within a minute and disappeared.

He drove for hours. He was only sixteen and just barely managed to get his driver's license, so his driving was far from perky. But who cares about a few traffic lights, right? And as long as he didn't create any real damage, there was no pain done if he accidentally went on the wrong side of the road occasionally, okay?

"Come on," he said, as the sun started coming up again and scanning the horizon. "Where are you, Camp Half-Blood? It would be pretty freaking convenient right now to show up." And just as the words left his lips, he eyed the strawberry farm. Of course, it wasn't actually a strawberry farm, only dimwitted mortals thought that. It actually was a camp that held around a hundred uncontrollable children who, due to their parentage, had gone through abuse, neglect, and quite a few deathly situations for a bunch of kids.

He pulled jerkily in front of the large building, putting his car into park before he stopped fully, nearly causing a crash just by parking. He left his car, which reflected the rising sun quite admirably due to its popping red color, urgently. Despite the fact that he was finally at Camp Half-Blood, a shiver of fear ran through him instead of relief. It was in the middle of December, and yet he found himself here. While it seemed quite fitting that it was his own idea, and he wasn't exactly the type of person who believed in fate, it didn't seem like it was much of his choice at all. Like for some reason he was meant to be here instead of it being an escape plan.

He walked into the scene, and to his surprise it was nearly dead. Nearly, of course. He still heard the stirring of voices coming from the Big House, but even in winter he expected more noise. People outside. Giggles. It may be early morning but surely someone would be outside?

But being the son of Apollo, and apparently a so-called hero, he decided to hold his guts and follow the loud, and some estranged, voices coming out of the Big House. As he got closer to the front door, he couldn't help but take notice on how furious everybody was. It might have been early, but there was no excuse in calling someone a wild cow.

He opened the door lightly, peaking his head in, but even Will Solace – the boy who had patched up mangled bodies, revived the half-dead, and had, at times, ran an entire clinic all by himself after a harsh game of Capture the Flag (which, he had practically yelled at Chiron, was a really moronic camp activity), wasn't ready for the mess he was about to walk into.

There were fifteen kids yelling at each other all around. One was standing on a ping pong table, a kid of Ares had nailed a daughter of Demeter to a wall and was screaming in her face, a few were simply arguing with their fingers clenching the air in anger, two children of Aphrodite were crying, and Pollux – the son of Dionysus – was simply staring at everybody with his arms crossed impatiently.

While many eyes went to the door, apparently Will wasn't good enough to say hello to. They merely looked at him with a mild sense of recognition, and then turned back towards their rival. Carefully, Will slowly went around all the arguers until he was face to face with Pollux, who was sitting in a white yard chair in silent anger. Will licked his lips, taking a breath before speaking.

"Pollux," he said slowly, "Why is everybody acting like immature monkeys?" Pollux shook his head angrily, flaring his nose. Will nodded in reply, taking his silence mildly, but still persisting.

"Is this over food, again?" Pollux shook his head.

"A chariot race?" Pollux shook his head faster.

"Let me guess, chores?"

"Take it," Pollux said, muttering the two words so coldly that Will blinked. Will's eyes fell down to Pollux's hands, which held a tightly folded piece of paper. If it were any normal day, Will may have been apprehensive, but in the last twenty-four hours he had partially-accidentally shrunk his step mom, watched as a dark force tried killing Rodney, was stood up by Nico di Angelo, and drove for the first time since he got his license. Nothing could really surprise him at this point. Will replied with a nod, and a mildly interested tilt, before taking it and unfolding it.

Dear Campers,

Due to recent events, your directors God Dionysus and his assistant, Chiron, will no longer hold authority in the Greek camp for demigods. In respect for the safety of the minors who hold godly blood, the camp will still run but from this date forward will be controlled by an appointed individual.

Will read it three times before he looked back up at Pollux.

"I'm confused," Will said, blinking. "Do they really have the audacity to just-"

"The camp is no longer run by two daft idiots. Instead, it will be run by me, appointed by the gods." Silence waved against the group of children and all heads turned towards the door to meet the eyes of an unfamiliar voice. Will turned around fully, the crisp paper crumpled into his hand, but when he saw the figure in the doorway his mouth parted. She was completely unfamiliar – olive toned, tall, caramel hair weaved into a long braid that curved around her neck. She was already dressed in gear, and had a gleam of hunger in her eyes, but couldn't have possibly been a day older than any of them. Of course, she could've been eternal, but something told him that she wasn't. That she was just a kid, alike to all of them.

"And who the hell are you?" A son of Ares interrupted. The girl smiled lightly, about to open her mouth, but then a boy with wavy dark hair, a little over six foot, with skin so white that you could almost believe he was a living corpse, stepped into the doorway. The figure pecked her cheek lightly, gripping her hand tightly, and forcing Will to feel as if his knees were about to buckle down. What…what was going on?

"Kenna James," Nico di Angelo replied, looking at every pair of eyes except for Will's. "Camp Half-Blood, meet Lady Kenna James, daughter of Eris and heir to the throne."

(three dashes here)

Look, its kinda rough, and I know that, and theres probably a thousand errors (sorry, I wrote this really late) but if you don't comment, I won't know if I should continue, so if you want more please comment