Disclaimer: I do not nor will every own Percy Jackson, as that honor belongs to Rick Riordan
The great god Pan is dead! But that was not so. Pan, the god in question, was but sleeping until a threat rose, greater than any foe known. This legend was slowly forgotten by all through the passage of time. But soon, a need would arise for Pan.
The streets were filled with cars, sailing along the road, and pedestrians bustling to their next locations. Tour buses streamed along the street, filled to the brim with tourists. This is what had become of the beloved Greece.
But not all of tradition was lost. An ancient temple was soon to be discovered with a painstakingly beautiful mural on its wall. It told the story of the god of the wild. Pan was stirring from his slumber, his awareness returning to him, in light of the most powerful foe arising.
18 YEARS LATER . . .
Matthew stepped onto the busy street, books clutched in hand. He waved down a taxi with both a wave and an ear piercing whistle. A taxi skidded to a stop right in front of the curb, jolting sideways. Matthew got into the cab, telling the driver where he wanted to go. They wove through traffic with reckless abandon, and Matthew had a tight-knuckled grip on the seat handle. Once they arrived, Matthew surveyed the ground. There was amazingly clear water with a golden white beach right beside it. The sun reflected beautifully off the glistening waters. A gorgeous forest laid next to the water, many types of trees laid within. There was no one at the beach, save for one man under an umbrella. He tipped the driver, and headed over the water.
Matthew tugged off his shoes, mindful of sand getting in his shoes. He dug his toes into the sand, laughing joyously at the feeling. He approached the man, smiling at him and waving. He knew the man, such was obvious. They approached one another, and conversed in hushed tones. The man had tan skin, curly dark brown hair, and a warm smile, His eyes sparkled in the way only someone with a secret could. They were a deep emerald green, the colors of trees and woods, indicating hidden depths. He was fit, but not overly so. The man had an incredibly mischievous grin that appeared after Matthew said something. Matthew looked like a twin of the man, the same hair, blinding smile, but blue eyes, the color of fresh rainfall. He had a special necklace that he never took off, a set of carved pipes. They were his most precious belonging, and he could never leave them anywhere.
Matthew and the man talked until the sun set. Then, they both said their farewells, and, in the blink of an eye, vanished in a cloud of leaves, leaving nothing but ruffled sand in their wake. The beach was left almost undisturbed, except for the smell of the wild, drifting in the wind.
On the following Monday, Matthew was back in school. He took all of his regular classes, noting the new student following his schedule. He also noticed that he had a new teacher replacing his Greek and Roman mythology teacher. He found this sudden change awfully suspicious, and decided to investigate the replacement of one of his favorite professors. Matthew first went to the office, seeking answers. He found none, so went on with his quest to achieve knowledge. Soon enough, Matthew had given up on his search for the day, and headed out to clear his thoughts.
Once Matthew had arrived at his favorite thinking spot, he sighed in relief. The trees provided a strong sense of calming for him, due to his father. As he closed his eyes in meditation, he pondered over his conversation with his father the weekend before.
"Hi Dad." Michael said, barely contained excitement clear on his face.
"Matthew. How I've missed you." His father warmly stated before embracing Matthew in a bone breaking hug.
After a few minutes, Matthew started to grow uncomfortable. "Uh, Dad? You can let go of me now."
His father clung on for a few more moments, desperate to hold his son for just a little more. He set down Matthew gently, the sand around them letting out a WHUFF. As the dust settled, Matthew started coughing. His father smiled with amusement as Matthew wheezed out, "J-just gimme a sec. I got this."
They had talked about what their lives were like, and what they did. Matthew spoke of his classes, and how he was doing well, even though he had ADHD and dyslexia. His father told Matthew of the small patches of nature left, and who he flourished them. They both listened to each other, and when it was time to go, they embraced fiercely once more. They would not see each other until the Winter Solstice.
Matthew emerged from his meditation with a small tear of sadness. He would miss his father exponentially. Matthew's clear head helped his think, though. He pondered over the questions he had about the new student, Reed Forrest, and his replacement teacher, Mr. Galen. The boy was obviously a satyr, that much was obvious. But who was he here for? Could he be at Willer High School for another demigod? On the other hand, Mr. Galen was a mystery. Who was he? Matthew wished he could ask his father, but alas, they could only confer on meeting dates. Matthew decided to stop thinking about Mr. Galen, and instead focus on Reed. He would befriend the sound satyr, and learn from him.