Chapter 1

Hello everyone, SpeechBubbleMe here! Welcome to my new story, Daughter of the Mist. For those of you who didn't read the summary (I should probably assume that you did and found it somewhat interesting or else you wouldn't be reading, but I digress) this is my very first Percy Jackson and the Olympians fanfiction! This is to be a Luke Castellan x OC fanfiction, which starts about two years before the events of the Lightning Thief and includes old and new characters. Also, if you're interested in reading Star Wars fanfiction, I have one posted called Across the Stars, the first segment of which is completely posted.

Disclaimer: All rights go to Rick Riordan, the poncy twit, who doesn't seem to write as fast as I love to read his books...

Hecate, the Goddess of Magic, Sorcery, and Witchcraft. Also the Goddess of the Crossroads, of Necromancy, and most importantly, the Mist. The ancient Greeks associated her with the dark side of the moon, the harvest moon, hidden knowledge, choices, doorways, twisting paths, and even change. Unfortunately, (that depends on the day, really) she also happens to be my mother.

I found out that my mother was a goddess when I was five years old, the day when my father left me in the middle of two intersecting roads and never looked back. My father was a shaman-like healer that travelled between the various Native American reservations that dotted the southern New Mexico landscape. He ended up summoning her in one of his rituals, and nine months later found me gently placed on the step of his camper, swaddled in silky purple fabric with a carved dog pendant around my neck. For the next five years, he dragged me with him in a tiny camper all around the western United States. I don't know what made him leave me to the mercy of the gods, to abandon his five-year-old daughter in the middle of a mountain thunderstorm in the Wyoming Rockies, but he did. Eleven years later without any knowledge of him has made me never want to know. To say I'm a little bitter about that would be a bit of an understatement…

At times I get a little curious, and think back on him. I'm especially guilty on my birthday, when I pull out the little wallet-sized photo of my father, Elijah Black, and compare our features. I still can't fail to notice how we both have the same dark brown, almost black hair, the little crinkle on the top of our noses when we smile, and the same slim, wiry frame. Now when I compare myself with my father, I see more of my mother in me – her pale, creamy skin, glittering green eyes, and the moon-shaped face that always seems to be far more alluring on her than it ever could on me. Then again, Hecate is a goddess.

When Hecate found me shivering, covered in mud, and afraid, she spirited me away to the Place Between Places, also known as the Realm of Magic. The Place was colorful, chaotic, and dangerous – naturally, I loved it. Hecate taught me about the gods that inhabited the world, and their foolish, childish squabbles. The Olympians were selfish and cruel, especially to the children of the Titans that were allowed to remain free of imprisonment. My mother, the daughter of the Titans Perses and Asteria, was somewhat spared of that fate after the First Titan War, on account of her high standing with Zeus. That faded over the years until now she was barely worshipped at all, only remembered by crazy practitioners of long-dead religions. I also learned that I had other siblings in the world, with several scattered over the American continent.

A few were in upstate New York, at a sanctuary for demigods know as Camp Half-Blood. My brothers and sisters there had no idea of their true parentage, and weren't likely to be formally claimed as I was. Some were in the San Francisco Bay area in the Roman Camp Jupiter as members of the Twelfth Legion. Since Hecate's Roman aspect, Trivia, was slightly more recognized among the citizens of New Rome, it was slightly safer to send her Roman children there. Still others were scattered around the world as scribes in the House of Life, practicing their magic under the watchful eye of the Chief Lector, Iskandar, who was the oldest living child of Hecate. Then there were the few who were alone like me, with no one else to turn to and leading separate lives from the rest of our kin. It always hurt me to see the look on my mother's face whenever she talked about her scattered children, and the heartbreak it caused her.

The world had changed since the Big Three – Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades – decided that their children were too powerful to be unleashed on the world. The war between their children had devastated the world, unleashing a host of monsters, demons, and other nasties into the world. Demigods died by the hundreds, and the mortals by the millions. The Olympians kept to themselves now, ignoring their demigod children and the other gods that they deemed to be lesser than themselves. The tension was great, causing a ripple in the fabric of the heavens and providing the means for the Titans to strike against the Olympians. For years Hecate kept out of the brewing war, kept her children out of the range of fire until it was too late. Her children were the only things she had.

For eleven years she kept me close to her in the Place, teaching me how to use magic and runes, commune with the dead, and – most importantly – control the Mist. I wasn't the most powerful of Hecate's children, but I was to be one of the few that would teach the rest of my siblings their true abilities. My name is Arian Black, and I am destined for greatness.

When I was sixteen, Hecate could no longer hide from the other gods that she was hiding me in the Place. With little fanfare, she was summoned to Olympus while the other gods decided my fate. Two weeks later, I was standing in front of a white Greek-style archway on Long Island, New York that read "Camp Half-Blood". Hecate stood a few paces behind me, flanked on both sides by her animal companions, Hecuba the black Labrador and Gale the polecat. She was dressed in dark blue jeans and a white T-shirt depicting Mickey Mouse – I never understood her fascination with Disney, but she insisted that it was the "modern magic", whatever that meant. I was just surprised to see her in mortal clothes.

"Well… I've never been to summer camp before…" I trailed off as I peered past the archway and caught sight of an approaching creature. As it came closer, I realized that it was a centaur, most likely Chiron, the trainer of heroes since Ancient Greece. He stood at the gate, as if waiting for me to join him.

"I'm sorry," my mother said as I embraced her one last time, "I'll always be with you, Arian." I was touched by the ghost of a tear that could be seen in the corners of her eyes. My mother was rarely emotional, but I could only imagine how hard it was for her to lose yet another child to the whims of the Olympians. All at once I was enraged – what right did the Olympians have to take me away from the woman who raised me, who had sacrificed countless other children to them already? Hecate must have felt my anger and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder, turning me around to face the looming gate ahead.

"Don't look back…" she whispered in my ear as I struggled to compose myself, "Just keep going, and be strong, my daughter." I willed my feet to move forward, towards the place that would be my home for probably the rest of my life. Her entourage barked their own goodbyes as I widened the chasm between us. When I crossed through the white pillars, a rush of protective power rushed through me. I glanced back at Hecate, but nothing was left except a slowly dissipating swirl of Mist.

The centaur cleared his throat, "You must be Arian Black. I am-"

I sharply interrupted him, "I know who you are." Chiron's eyes narrowed as his tail flicked in annoyance.

"Very well, Miss Black… if you would follow me, then."

Chiron gave me the full tour of the camp – the dining pavilion, strawberry fields, the sword fighting arena, archery fields, a lava-spewing climbing wall, amphitheater, stables, armory, the Big House, and last but not least – the twelve cabins arranged in a horseshoe around a courtyard. I saw other campers as we passed, most trying to catch a glimpse of the newest camper. As we got closer to the cabins, I could easily identify the patron Olympians of each cabin. Zeus, Hera, Poseidon, and Artemis' cabins were clearly uninhabited – more like shrines or temples than anything else. However, all of the other cabins seemed to be brimming with campers, especially the one that I deemed to be the Hermes cabin. Cabin Eleven was the only cabin that actually looked like a typical camping cabin in the woods – peeling paint, brown wood, and an abundance of inhabitants.

"As Hermes is the god of travelers, you will stay in Cabin Eleven until you are claimed," the centaur said, gesturing to the run-down cabin.

I rolled my eyes. There's no way that Hecate could claim me here, I thought as I shouldered my backpack. The little blue bag represented about a fifth of what I had brought with me from the Place – the rest of my clothes, personal items, magic items, and drachmas were stored magically, linked to a charm on my bracelet that only I could access with the right runes. Several charms on the silver chain weren't actually charms at all, but rather amulets that I had prepared that had the same effect of their counterpart spell. They wouldn't do much good to protect my things, but it was useful to have them around, especially since they could be used more than once between recharging. I ascended the rickety stairs, trying to ignore the stares of the Hermes kids. It was then that I also remembered that Hermes was also the god of thieves.

The inside of the Hermes cabin wasn't much better than the outside. It consisted of a small common area with a few tables that opened up into a narrow lodge crowded with numerous bunks stacked against the walls, and a pair of bathrooms on the far side. I could pick out the true children of Hermes almost immediately, as all of them shared the same pointed features and mischievous eyes that convinced me to never leave my things unattended in this cabin. Even though they only made up about sixty percent of the more than thirty kids, I could bet several drachmas that they caused some serious havoc among their bunkmates. I would have to put a protection spell over my bag, bracelet, and necklace – I had no doubt that if I didn't they wouldn't last too long in this den of thieves.

An older-looking boy, maybe eighteen or so, stood up from the card table to greet me, holding out his hand to shake, "I'm Eric Johnson, the head counsellor of Hermes. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood."

I eyed his outstretched hand and grinning demeanor suspiciously, but accepted the offered gesture of welcome, "Arian Black."

"Regular or undetermined?" a small kid piped up from atop a stack of blankets.

I thought very carefully before I decided to answer, "Undetermined." At that all the kids in the cabin let out a soft groan. I could bet that they got a lot of undetermined kids thrust in here… like this rickety cabin needed any more kids in it that weren't the children of Hermes. Eric called all the kids to order, quieting them down at an impressive rate.

The head counsellor ran his hand through his messy brown hair. "We're a little short on space right now… but I guess you could have Hannah's old bunk." Instantly, I got a sick feeling in my stomach. If I was getting Hannah's old bunk, where was Hannah now? I knew that demigods outside of sanctuaries like these didn't exactly have a life filled with rainbows and sunshine, but dying? I found that a little hard to swallow. I hastily nodded and made my way over to the sole empty bunk in the entire cabin. The rest of the Hermes cabin seemed to lose interest with me after that, going back to their card games, or some leaving the cabin altogether.

"Undetermined, huh?" I looked up from my bag to see a face peering over the top of the bunk. He was probably only a year or so older than I was, with unruly blond hair and bright blue eyes. I immediately identified him as one of the actual Hermes kids.

"Yes," I said shortly. At this point, I really was having one of the worst days of my life, and I really didn't want to talk to anyone, bunkmate or not.

The boy, surprisingly, swung himself over the edge of the top bunk and onto my bed, landing neatly on the hastily folded sheets. "Luke Castellan, son of Hermes," he introduced himself, extending a hand. I pointedly ignored it and returned to stowing my clothes from the bag in the small sliding cupboard in the wall.

"Okay, if you don't want to talk, that's fine," he said, raising his hands defensively, "I just thought that you looked a little lonely and might need a friend or something." I raised an uninterested eyebrow in his direction before slinging my blue bag over my shoulder. I didn't exactly trust the Hermes kids enough to not mess with my things. I stood up abruptly and picked my way over the beds on the floor to the front of the cabin.

As I closed the door, I could hear Luke yelling, "Dinner's at seven-thirty!"

I angrily tromped away from the cabins, struggling to hold in my emotions. I could hear Hecate's voice in the back of my mind, telling me to be strong. Tears coursed down my face as I ran blindly into the forest, eventually catching myself on a large rock. I stayed there for what felt like hours, only looking up when the shadows began to lengthen. Wiping the tear tracks from my cheeks, I went to the bathrooms to clean myself up.

The camp seemed to be less crowded at the approach of dinnertime, with most of the campers making their way to the large mess hall by the fireworks beach. I easily avoided the throng of kids, quickly entering the bathrooms. After eleven years of living in my mother's home in the Place Between Places, I was definitely not impressed with the state of the bathrooms. I preferred not to think about it too much as I washed my face with the cold tap water.

A loud thunk startled me, and I turned to find the source of the noise. It turned out to be three fairly large, burly girls that were partially outfitted in Greek armor. Ares, my mind supplied. I had never met the god of war, personally, but I could easily assume from his reputation that his children would also be the type to kill first, ask questions later.

"Initiation time, newbie," one of them growled, punching a fist into her meaty palm. My eyes narrowed – I didn't like bullies, even if their dad was a super scary god of war. As soon as the girl saw the determined look on my face, her eyes brightened at the prospect of a fight. "I've got a friend that really wants to meet you."

"Oh really?" I drawled, "I love new friends…" The Ares girl bellowed out a war cry and charged me, outstretching her bulging arms. As soon as she neared me, however, I twisted the diamond-shaped charm on my bracelet, activating my invisibility amulet and disappearing from view. However, the drawback of invisibility spells is that they could still feel me if they got close enough. I could only hope that they were too dim-witted to come to that conclusion before I could escape. It was a little disorienting being invisible (as in really hard to see where your feet are stepping), but I tried to keep my wits about me as I skirted the enraged Ares kids.

I hadn't earned myself any new friends with that stunt, but it was definitely better than getting my head stuffed in one of those grimy toilets. Once I was far enough away from the bathrooms, I twisted the diamond-shaped charm again and became visible. Luckily enough, no one saw my return to the plane of view, and I made my way to the mess hall with no one else the wiser.

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