Hi Sparks! I'm back on fanfic, but Death Wings is still on hiatus as of now. Please enjoy my new story! Sorry for OOC-ness of characters. And as a warning now, some of the future chapters will have direct conversations from The Last Olympian.


Nobody seems to remember that I exist in this world. Even the only person that ever cared about me, my brother, I haven't seen him in over a year. The saddest part is, I barely remember him. I was only a three when he decided to run away. At least, that's what Mother said, when she wasn't having one of her moments.

My mother, May Castellan, terrified me at times. Her eyes would glow this ethereal green color, and her voice would sound like she's talking through three different people at once. She would clutch onto one of our mythological beanbags (who she seems adamant on adding Mr. and Mrs. before. Hearing her talk to Mrs. Medusa is just plain creepy), and scream about how my brother, Luke, was doomed. Then the green smoke would disappear, leaving the frazzled, frail form of my mother, and she would go back into the kitchen to make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and batches of cookies. Always with the cookies. And then there was all the Kool-Aid…

As of now, I'm only seventeen. I'm the only real provider in this household, and that's a pretty sad thought. When I'm not dealing with the drama that is twelfth grade, I'm off at work at the mall, then the neighborhood bookstore, then at the local café run by my friend's parents, and finally working until eleven every night at McDonald's. Trying to juggle all of my jobs plus my schoolwork was exhausting, but somehow I managed.

School, work, taking care of Mother, and cursing my brother and father's names to the wind was the story of my life. Yeah, I say Luke's name and curse him out like a sailor, and as for my father…I never met him, let alone learn his name. Luke left me as a child to deal with Mom, when I couldn't even take care of myself. I remember hearing his voice when he was nine, saying that he was leaving, but that he would come back for me someday. Well, here I am nine years later, still stuck with the lunatic waiting for a son that will never come home.

That was my life before I learned what happened to Luke, before my life went off a cliff into the fiery pits of Tartarus.

My name is Layla Thea Castellan, and I am Luke's younger, forgotten sister.

And this is my story.


It had been just another normal day, me going to the living torture that was high school, sitting through my AICE courses, while trying to focus on my General Papers teacher, Mrs. Lyons. She had gone off on some tangent about Shakespeare's Midsummer Night Dream, and I had dozed off, staring outside at the boring Connecticut scenery. It wasn't surprising that I had lost focus; I had ADHD and dyslexia after all, and being in an AICE class in general was a miracle in itself. Mom had celebrated with cookies.

I want to burn all of those God-forsaken cookies. All they brought back was bad memories.

Anyways, as I was daydreaming about the day I would finally get to leave the small town of Westport, Connecticut, I heard a loud hissing noise from the front of the room. Frowning, I turned in the direction of the noise, and immediately stifled a gasp.

One of the school cheerleaders-Kelli, I think was her name-had fangs like a vampire protruding from her mouth, skin as white as snow, and her legs…God, what was with her legs? They seemed to be half-donkey on one side and the other was half-robot. Blood dripped down her mouth and onto her chin, and my teacher was lying on the desk, puncture wounds on her neck, and her eyes glazed over looking at the sky.

"Mrs. Lyons!" I yelped, running from my desk to my fallen teacher. I remembered the basic first-aid course I had taken over the summer, and went to feel for a pulse. There was none. I turned back to one of my classmates, Nicole, who like the rest of my class, was frozen in fear as Kelli laughed hysterically.

"Oh, don't worry about that old crone," Kelli said, licking her lips free of my teacher's blood. She walked up to me on her mismatched feet, and traced the side of my face with her hand, which ironically enough had her nails done a bright red color. "Her blood was bitter anyways."

"Call 911!" I screamed, flinching as Kelli grabbed me by the throat, jerking my head violently to the side.

"Now, why'd you have to go and do that?" She flashed me a smile with those vampire teeth of hers, and smoothly said, "Put down your phones, all of you."

It was terrifying. As if my whole class had been possessed, they dropped their phones, and watched me with their eyes glazed over. What the heck? Did they not see this vampire chick who just killed our teacher? Did they think Mrs. Lyons was taking a nap or something?

Kelli circled me, sniffing me like how someone would smell a perfume sample. "You smell just like him," she decided, smirking at what I could only guess was the terrified expression on my face. "Don't fret, dear. I have…special relations with your brother; I wouldn't dare hurt you."

If anything I stiffened under her touch even more. No one knew about my brother, except for my mom and me. I doubted my father even knew he had a son, if Luke and I even had the same father. Wow, I was full of optimistic thoughts.

"I don't have a brother," I argued, slowly backing up from Kelli. Even when she was a human, she was the face of my nightmares. She loved to taunt me for my ADHD and dyslexia, calling me stupid despite that I was in all AICE classes and doing so many extracurriculars, I could've probably graduated by the end of April. She called me fat, which was strange considering how I barely had enough to eat at home. Sure, Mom was always in the kitchen, but come on. I'm not going to eat PB&J, chocolate chip cookies, and Kool-Aid for the rest of the time I still lived with my Mom.

"Of course you do, dear. I'm his girlfriend."

"Even if I had a brother, what would his name be?"

"Stop playing with me, Layla. Your brother's name is Luke Castellan."

My brother was seriously dating a snake lady? What the actual hell? If I ever saw my deadbeat brother again, I was going to have a serious discussion with him in his choice of girlfriends. Or boyfriends if he was into that sort of thing. Not that I really cared; I didn't know enough about Luke to give him the time of day.

"What do you want with me?" I asked, petrified as my back bumped into the white board. And my classmates were about as useful as broken glass; they just sat there as if my imminent death was the most entertaining thing in the world.

"Luke wanted me to fetch you."

I narrowed my eyes, trying to find the well of confidence I usually dipped into when I had to confront Kelli normally. "Fetch is a game for dogs," I said. "Is it a game for donkey's too?"

"Why you little-!"

She never finished that sentence as I grabbed the thick English Literature textbook on Mrs. Lyons' desk and slammed it into Kelli's face, before throwing it violently at her for good measure. I didn't even grab my backpack; I ran out of that classroom like the devil itself was chasing me.

Thankfully my house wasn't too far from the school. I was unnaturally fast, at least, that's what my PE coach says every year when she begs me to try out for the track team. I always have to decline, because track team practice is after school, and after school means I have to go to work.

By the time I got home, I was soaked with sweat and my breaths were coming in ragged spurts. I spent a good ten minutes trying to catch my breath, while going into the kitchen to get some water.

Mom walked out of the parlor, and with the same dazed look in her sky blue eyes she asked, "Luke? Is that you?"

"No, Mom! It's me, Layla," I called out, turning on the tap.

"I could've sworn it was Luke," she mumbled to herself, before rushing back into the room she had just come out of.

She was probably crying over some old photo album with pictures of her precious son Luke, while holding exactly zero pictures of me. To her, it was like I never existed in the first place. Everything was always about Luke, the boy that left Mother, and the boy that left me with her. The only real reason I could ever figure that Luke left was because of Mom's visions, but I waited every day with Mom until the day I turned ten that I realized, Luke was never coming back. I had told Mom that, and she called me crazy, which really stung seeing as it was my tenth birthday.

Yeah, I definitely deserve an optimism award. The only person that could be more optimistic than me is Kelli! Ah, the sweetness of sarcasm will never cease to amaze me.

But the thought of Kelli was a genuine reality check. She was still around here, lurking, waiting to supposedly hand me over to Luke. I honestly thought she had lost it, but seeing her as an insane vampire opened my eyes. Mom always had Greek mythological stuff lying around, especially the caduceus, which I knew was a symbol of Hermes. And I remember Luke had come back last winter, asking about Mom giving him a blessing to bathe in a river of some sorts. The jerk hadn't even spared me a glance, but I saw a weariness in him I only saw with the older people in the café I worked at.

His blonde hair had gone almost white, and streaks of gray were mixed in. Under his right eye was a long, pale scar running the length of his entire cheek. His blue eyes looked kind of like Mom's, in terms of how frantic he was, jumping at the slightest sound. From the pictures around the house, it looked like his skin lost most of his color, making him appear like a corpse. Just seeing him look so hurt almost made me forgive him for forgetting his promise to come back for me. Almost.

Anyways, with all this Greek stuff around, was it possible that it was real?

No, now I'm just paranoid. People are already betting when I'm going to join the loony bin with my mother; I'm not going to give them that satisfaction.

I went up to my room, and pulled out the least ratty backpack I could find. I grabbed a couple shirts and pants, along with some undergarments and my only brush. Then I walked down the hallway and entered into what used to be Luke's room.

Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust, but mythology books were everywhere, and a trunk at the foot of his bed seemed less dusty then everything else. Curiosity getting the best of me, I opened the trunk only to see a gold bracelet with a caduceus charm hanging off it. Was this some kind of joke, Luke? Because if it was, it's not even remotely funny.

Then I found the note. It read:

Layla, I am so, so sorry that I haven't been able to honor my promise. My life has been pretty hectic lately, and it's all I can do to keep myself from being killed. Listen, when I came over last winter that will be the last time you will ever see me. Don't go investigating too much into that; I don't want you to tarnish whatever vision you have of me. Although, I have to imagine you don't hold me too highly on a pedestal for leaving you with Mom.

You need to know the truth now as you're already older than fourteen if my calculations are right. You're in danger. The Greek gods are real and so are all the monsters. I managed to snag you something that will be able to keep you safe if you ever come across a monster. Pull down on the charm, and you'll be holding a bow in your hands. I have no idea if you like archery or not, so forgive me if you can't even hold a bow to save your life.

There's a special place for people like you to go to called Camp Half-Blood. But, there's also a group of people like me, who resent our Olympian parents for neglecting us when we need them the most. I work with Kronos, and I hope we can reshape the world how it should be. If you want to join me, let me know. I promise you, you'll be safe.

Take care, Layla!

-Luke Castellan

I instantly ripped that note to shreds, too angry to really care about what Luke was offering me. To join him? And he had the nerve to give me another promise! Because of him, I never trusted anyone, not even my closest friends. If I needed any other motivation, then that was it. I was going to Camp Half-Blood. And if Luke wanted otherwise, he could go screw off. He was just as absent as whoever my father is.


Later that night, around two in the morning, I planned to sneak out of the house. I had grabbed several handfuls of energy bars and some of Mom's fresher sandwiches, plus three thermos's full of water. Luke's bracelet felt like an iron shackle around my wrist, but I kept it there anyways. I wasn't going to take any chances if Kelli decided to jump out at me.

I paused by Mom's door, pressing my ear against the whitewashed wood, making sure that she was fully asleep. See, Mom had always had problems with insomnia; she would scream her head off as visions would plague her, and the green smoke would cling to her for hours on end. Most nights, I could hear her mumbling to herself, walking up and down the stairs in hopes of tiring herself out.

I breathed a silent sigh of relief, before making my way downstairs. I mentally cursed the house for being so old, as the wooden steps creaked under my feet, making me wince with every groan of the wood. My keys were still on the kitchen countertop, which I quickly swiped up, before turning to my front door.

The knob had just begun to turn, when I heard a tired, "Luke? Is that you?" from the top of the staircase.

I cursed mentally, before slowly turning around to face my haggard mother. "No, Mom, it's still me, Layla."

"Where are you going?"

Great, she had to lapse into saneness now of all times. I bit my bottom lip, trying to think of a good lie. Despite the fact my mother was insane, I couldn't find it in my heart to lie to her, unless it was to protect her. Yes, she was distant, and forgetful, and sometimes downright mean, but she was my only flesh and blood as far as I was concerned.

"I'm going out to Nicole's house," I lied, shouldering my backpack so that my brush (at least, I think it was my brush), wasn't digging into my shoulder blades.

"At this time of night?" Mom demanded, crossing her arms over her pink bathrobe. Her blonde hair was a frizzy mess, but her blue eyes were focused for once instead of looking like pieces of a broken mirror.

"Last minute test we need to study for. It's a geography exam from Mr. Roberts."

She raised an eyebrow at that, and instead of heading back to bed like she would've done normally when I snuck out (mostly for parties, whenever I could go), she went down the stairs until she was grabbing me firmly by the shoulders, forcing me to look at her.

"Layla, I know that look in your eyes," Mom said, gently tilting my head up so that our eyes met, blue-on-blue. "You're going to run, aren't you?"

A lump worked its way into my throat. I couldn't find the right words to say. How do you tell your mentally unstable mother that she was the reason you were running away? Tears stung the corners of my eyes, but I forcefully blinked them back.

"Mom, I'm so, so sorry," I said, my voice cracking at the end. "But I can't stay here. Not when you're waiting for a son that'll never come home, completely forgetting about me."

The look of pain and anguish was so clear on my mother's face that I almost let myself break down in her arms, something I hadn't done ever since I was eight. I closed the distance between the two of us, holding my mother close in a bone-crushing hug. She sobbed into my shoulder, caressing the blonde locks I had inherited from her.

"I'm sorry for not being the mother you needed me to be, Layla," she apologized through her tears.

I let some of my own fall, but not as badly as Mom's. I gave her a small smile. "That's not your fault, Mom. You're hurting; I understand that. When you're better, I promise I'll come home."

Mom started sobbing harder, squeezing me so hard I thought she would crack a rib or two. "Please, stay. Just for the rest of the school year. Then, I'll let you go with no strings attached."

"Mom," I said with sadness tinging my voice. "You know that the visions will come back sooner rather than later. I can't see you fall into that madness again."

"Please!" she begged, and I could almost see the cracks of insanity starting to cloud her eyes once more. "I lost my son! At least stay until you go off to college! Please!" Tears started streaming down her face once more, and if I hadn't been holding her up, Mom would've probably been a heap on the floor.

My heart clenched at the sight. It was already late March, and it couldn't hurt to stick around until August. I mean, I had a bow now. I could defend myself if I needed to, but I would definitely need to learn how to properly use it. Maybe Luke had other weapons stashed in his room that I could use.

"Okay," I finally whispered. "I'll stay until the middle of August. I won't be like Luke, I promise."

I inwardly cringed. Another promise. At least I had promised to not be Luke, meaning I would keep it; I'd stay until August like Mom wanted me to.

"Thank the gods!" Mom sniffed twice, drying her red-rimmed eyes on her bathrobe. The next time I looked into her eyes, the fractures were back, and I knew I had lost her to whatever caused her to turn into a possessed person. She looked at me in confusion. "Luke, why do you look like a girl?"

I sighed, slumping against the wall in defeat. Her small moments of saneness came with a hefty price: her memories. She couldn't remember anything that happened during that time, and it always left a bitter feeling behind. It was like her mind was stuck on replay, but only on thoughts of Luke and the hope that he would come back.

Ushering her off to bed, I began to unpack my backpack, tossing the sandwiches on today's pile with the granola bars and water left on the countertop. I grabbed a broom and began to sweep all of the moldy sandwiches, and cookie crumbs, and spilt Kool-Aid powder from the floor into the garbage. Honestly, I was surprised how all of this mold hadn't gotten either one of us sick yet, but I wasn't one to push luck.

Once everything was clean and back in its proper place, I shut off the lights to the kitchen, heading back to my room. I was so exhausted that I was going to head straight to bed, but when I heard someone else's voice coming from Mom's room, I was immediately on edge.

I gently pulled on the charm on my bracelet, and a gold bow with a matching quiver appeared on my person. I didn't admire the handiwork, though, and remembered the few archery lessons I had shared with one of my friends, Mike, when we had went to a summer camp together as kids. Knocking the arrow, I held my hand at the string, ready to pull back, but I decided to spy at first.

"-just not ready," I heard a male voice finish saying.

"Bring him back!" Mom cried, sounding as if her vocal cords were in the process of being ripped out. As much as I wanted to barrel in there, shooting whomever was breaking my mom's heart with a couple of arrows, something told me to not barge in.

"It's not my decision, May," he said in what I guess was supposed to be a soothing tone. "It's the Fates plan."

"Then the Fates are idiots!"

Mom's protests were cut off abruptly, and I thought the worst was happening, so I barged in, aiming the arrow right between the intruder's eyes. The string was already pulled all the way back, taut as I saw the fletching's begin to quiver from the amount of stress I was putting on the bow.

"Leave my mother alone," I growled.

The man stumbled back, his hands up in surrender. I slackened my hold a little, slowly letting down the arrow as to not shoot. I scowled as I inspected the man making my mom scream.

He was of average height, maybe around 5' 7"-5' 8". He had mousy brown hair, capped with the dorky kind of hats UPS men wore. He was even dressed in that manner with all the getup of a delivery man, down to the obnoxious khaki's dogs loved to nip at. His eyes were blue, and held a glint of mischief to them; I was instantly wary, more so now than earlier. Though he wasn't smiling, I knew if he was it would be a trouble-maker kind, the one that promised trouble.

Mom turned to the man. "Can you tell me why Luke's a girl? What has he gotten into now?"

"May, that's not Luke," the man said cautiously, giving me a nervous glance.

I tugged on the charm once more, and my bow disappeared; but I did take a defensive stance next to my mother, fully prepared to tackle this man should I need to.

"Of course it is!" Mom exclaimed. "Oh, I knew you would come home for lunch!"

"May, this is a girl, not our son."

"Son?!" I cried in outrage. "You're Luke's father?! Where have you been his entire life?!"

The man visibly winced. "And I take it you're his sister?"

I glared at the man. "He stopped being my brother the day he left me here with her," I said, venom dripping from my voice as I gestured to my mom, who was holding a stuffed plushy of a hydra.

"You're probably my daughter then." He sighed, taking his cap off to run his hand through his messy hair. "You have every right to be angry at me, but don't take your anger out on May."

"I'll take out my anger on whomever the hell I want, old man!" I snapped. Finding out that this man was my father, the same one that abandoned me as much as Luke had, well, I wasn't taking too kindly to that. "I'll give you five more minutes with Mom, but then I want you out of this house!"

"You don't want anything to do with me, do you?"

I laughed bitterly, the sound echoing off the mostly empty bedroom. "Just give me your name." He gave me a skeptic look. "If you're my father, the least you could do is let me know your name."

"My name," he said, "is Hermes, and I'm your father."