Chapter One:
Hey you guys! So, I decided to go ahead and post the spin-off! I'm really excited about this story, and I hope you guys enjoy it! I had a lot of encouragement from ShadowTravel to post this (thanks, love!). I know Google Translate probably failed me in the Spanish translations, and for that, I'm truly sorry! If anyone knows the correct translations, please private message me and I'll change it! Also, there is a lot of Spanish in here. I realized this after I wrote it, but I didn't want to change it. Marco is from Mexico, after all. Anyways, I sincerely hope you enjoy! The first two chapters will be Marco's backstory. Then the real story will begin!
Disclaimer: Guys! I actually own something! I own Marco and Andrew! Other than that, nothing. Oh well.
My name is Marco Alvarez, and I am a half-blood. My mother is mortal, while my Dad is the sun god, Apollo. I have a power. I can figure out if someone is hurt, where it is, and how bad it is. However, I can't heal it. A lot for a sixteen-year-old guy to swallow, right?- Hold on, hold on, now I sound like my sister's diary. Anyways, I am originally from Mexico. My Mama, Isidora Alvarez, was in an all-girls mariachi band when she met Apollo. After I was born, she couldn't tour with the band anymore, so she quit to take care of me. She had two more relationships and two more kids. The second relationship, with a man named Ramone Agulair, did not work out. When I was six, he left my Mama, my younger brother, Andrés (who was still an infant), and myself. Without Ramone's income, we were forced to sell our house and move to a small, poor town. My mother's third relationship was wonderful. She met Javier Santos when I was nine. Javier loved my Mother, and loved Andrés and I. With him, my Mother had a beautiful little girl, Rosalina. Since, at the time, I had no knowledge of who my father was, Javier was the man I called Papa. We were happy.
Unfortunately, it didn't last. When Rosalina was only three years old, a gang war broke out it our small town, and Javier was killed. Grief hit our household hard. At only twelve-years-old, I had to find a job and provide for my family. I ended up grabbing my Mama's guitar, and singing in the wealthier streets. My Mama had taught me to play the guitar at a young age, and we used to sing together all the time. For a while, I made just enough money to feed my familia.* Then I got a job offer to play music and sing at a cantina full time. It was honestly a dream come true. I made plenty of money for my familia to live off of, plus a little extra. People came from all around to hear me play.
"Your voice is magnetic, Marco." My Mama had said. "People can't help but stop and listen to you."
But that all changed a year later. When I was thirteen, I was playing at El Sol Cantina* and encountered my first monster. I was taking a water break when a creature burst through the wall of the cantina. People screamed, trying to flee the massive monster. It had the head of a lion, the body of a goat, a blood-caked mane, and a ten-foot-long diamondback snake-headed tail which grew out of its shaggy behind. The lion head opened its mouth. I could see it start to glow and smelled smoke. I dove out of the way as part of the bar behind me burst into flames. More screams tore through the air, as most of the patrons fled for the back exit. I looked around for a weapon. The owner, Mr. Hernandez, was a huge ancient weapons collector. He had lined the walls with many different weapons. I saw an assortment of different types of shotguns and pistols, but I knew none of them had bullets. Then, I saw the answer. A bow and a quiver of arrows hung on the wall across from me, above the bar I was standing by earlier. The only problem was, the monster now stood in front of it. 'I have to get around it!' I thought.
The lion-head got ready to spew fire again and the diamond-back hissed at me. I waited for the fire to build up, then dove behind a table at the last second. The lion roared in anger. I continued diving behind tables until I got to the bar. Crawling behind it, I peeked over the top- and had to duck before my hair caught on fire. As it was, it smelled like smoke and I knew it was singed. My heart was pounding like a jackhammer against my ribs. I looked up and saw the bow hanging just above my head. It must have been some sort of a Mayan bow. It was covered in tribal designs, and the quiver was made of animal skin. 'What am I doing? I don't even know how to shoot a bow!'
Then I thought of my mother and my siblings. I couldn't leave them alone. I took a deep breath and counted to three. 'One, two, three!' I leapt up and grabbed the bow and quiver, then dove to the ground as flames covered the wall where I had stood. I slung the quiver over my back and clumsily notched an arrow. I snuck along the length of the bar. 'Okay, Alvarez. This is it. Do or die, literally.' Once again I took a deep breath and leapt to my feet. I fired an arrow, but it went wide; missing the monster. It roared in anger.
"Esto no es bueno. ¡No es bueno!"* I shouted, once again dropping behind the bar. A huge wave of flames passed over the bar. I scrambled to the other end. 'Okay, okay, let's try this again. You can do this.'
I notched another arrow and jumped to my feet again. 'Please let this work!' I prayed. Though who I prayed to, I honestly wasn't sure. Time seemed to slow down. The diamond-back head turned towards me. I could see (what was no doubt) poisonous gas and acid coming from its mouth. It prepared to strike. I inhaled, then exhaled and fired the arrow. It flew through the air and lodged itself in the snake's neck. It fell limp, golden liquid oozing from the wound. I knew it was dead. The lion head roared in pain and anger. I barely dodged the flames in time. As it was, the heat singed the hair off my arms. 'Okay, so one down, one to go.' I notched an arrow as the monster whirled around to face me. Once again, I released the arrow as I exhaled. It embedded itself in the monster's left eye. Again it screamed in pain. With only one eye, it couldn't see very well. It started shooting flames wildly. I dove to the floor and scrambled back. '¡No es bueno!'* I shakily got to my feet and tried to stay out of sight of the monster. 'I need a clear shot!'
Finally, I got one. I notched an arrow and took aim. The creature saw me and turned, ready to breathe fire.
I released an arrow.
The lion-head released its fire.
I dropped to the ground, the fire scorching my clothes.
It was quiet.
I looked just in time to the the monster fall dead. It burst into green dust. Suddenly, I felt something burning me. I looked down to see small flames lapping at my shirt.
"Gah!" I quickly grabbed a damp rag off the bar countertop and swatted out the flames. Fire covered the cantina. I heard sirens heading this way. I figured it would not look good if I was the only one in a flaming cantina, holding an ancient bow. I quickly ducked out the back exit and made my way home. My mother was shocked and slightly horrified by my appearance. My siblings as well.
"Marco.. What happened, hijo?"* She asked.
"I'm not sure sure you would believe me, Mama."
I told her everything that happened.
"Oh mis dioses."* She gasped. "I knew this day would come. Marco," she looked at me very seriously. "You must find Andrew. He will help you."
To say I was confused would have been an understatement. "What? What day? How could Andrew possibly help?" I asked.
Andrew Peterson was my lanky, brown curly-haired friend from town. He was American, his family having moved to Mexico from New York. However, they had died when he was young. He grew up in the foster system down here, and began going to school. Through how he got the money, he wouldn't say. I knew not to press. With the gangs around, asking too many questions got you killed.
"You must trust me, hijo. Do as I ask. You need to pack a backpack and go find Andrew." Mama said.
"What? Leave? What if another monster attacks? I can't leave you, Andrés, and Rosalina alone!" I said.
"They won't attack." Mama assured.
"How do you know?!"
"Because they want you!" She shouted.
I paled. "W-What?"
"I'm sorry, hijo. Andrew will explain everything. Now pack!"
I threw some clothes and toiletries in a backpack, then stood with Mama at our front door.
"Will I see you again?" I asked, my voice choked with emotion.
Mama's eyes welled with tears. "That all depends on when you get to camp."
"Camp? What-"
"Everything will be okay." Mama assured me. "Now, you must go."
"One more question, Mama.. Is this my fault?" I asked.
"Oh no, hijo. NONE of this is your fault. It has to do with who your father is."
"Who my-"
"Marco?" Rosalina asked, looking up at me with tears in her eyes. "¿Adónde vas?"*
"Sólo un pequeño viaje, Rosalina. Regresaré más tarde."* I assured her. I turned to Mama. "Promesa."*
"Espero que volváis pronto."* Rosalina said, her little voice shaking. Andrés came and put an arm around her.
"Irse."* Andrés said. "Estaremos bien. Voy a protegerlos."*
I nodded to him. "Bien. Los amo a todos."* I said. I couldn't believe I was leaving my family. My siblings were only seven and four, yet I was leaving them to fend for themselves. 'If Mama says I must, then I must.' I nodded once more to them, hoping my expression conveyed the deep love I had for them. Then I left my small home in search of Andrew.
–•—•O•—•–
I ran to the foster home Andrew usually stayed at. Before you meet him, I should warn you. Andrew is.. Different. For one, he walks funny. Which is why he's usually teased by the other foster kids. Although, he can run when he wants to. For example, taco day at the foster home or when a gangbanger is on our tail. Andrew's also very sensitive. But when he's frustrated, he has two different responses, depending on the day: crying, or beating someone over the head with his reed pipes. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention: he likes to play reed pipes. He's actually really good. I knock on the door of the foster home. Mrs. Gonzales, the foster mother who was in her mid-forties and seemed permanently grouchy, opened the door. She had long, salt-and-pepper hair pulled back in a bun and wore a loud colored sundress. She had an infant on her hip.
"What do you want, Alvarez?" Mrs. Gonzales asked.
"Hi, Mrs. Gonzales. Is Andrew here?" I asked, sweetly. 'Best not to make her mad.'
"Yeah, he's here." She grumbled.
It's silent for a beat.
"May I talk with him?" I asked, somewhat impatiently.
"Whatever. PETERSON!" She screamed through the open door.
A second later, Andrew appeared at the door. "Yes?"
"Your friend wants you." Mrs. Gonzales said, before stalking back in the house.
"What's up?" Andrew asked, leaning against the open doorway. He was wearing his old, black, beat-up fedora he always seemed to have on.
"You hear about El Sol Cantina?"
"Yeah."
"That was me fighting a fire-breathing monster. My Mama said to pack a bag and come find you. Something about a camp?"
Andrew's face went white, and he stared at me in shock, almost falling over. Then he did the unexpected: he pumped a fist in the air and let out a whoop.
"Yes! I'm finally getting out of here! I'M GOING HOME!" Andrew shouted. "Gracias a los dioses!"
I realized that was the second time I heard someone say "gods," not "God."
"What's all that shouting about?" Mrs. Gonzales hollered.
"I'm leaving this place! I'm packing a bag, then I'm outta here!"
"Whatever." Mrs. Gonzales responded. We could hear her grumbling, "Johnson es una locura."*
Andrew went inside and up the stairs of the house, and came back a second later with a backpack and his reed pipes hanging around his neck.
"Let's blow this Popsicle stand." He said. "¡Hasta la vista!"* He called back to the house. He tipped his fedora and I caught a glimpse of his dark brown, curly-haired head underneath. 'Are those HORNS?'
As we started walking down the street, I started firing questions:
"Who are you, really? What are you? What attacked me? What does this have to do with my dad? And where are we going?!"
"My name is Andrew Peterson, which you already knew that. What you didn't know is that I'm a satyr and your protector. A Greek mythical beast attacked you. It has to do with your dad, because he is a Greek god. And we're going to Camp Half-Blood. Think of it as a 'monster fighting training camp.' And also, a safe place from monsters. Does that cover it?" Andrew asked.
I gaped at him. "That doesn't even begin to cover it! You expect me to believe my father is a Greek god?!"
"How did you defeat the monster?" Andrew asked.
"What? A bow and arrow. Don't change the subject!"
"I'm not." Andrew said. "Before today, would you have believed monsters were real and that you would defeat them with a bow?" He asked.
"Well.. No. But.. Where is this camp anyway?" I was so confused I didn't even know what to ask anymore.
"Camp Half-Blood is in New York, of course. I'm going home!" Andrew pumped fist in the air.
"WHAT?! Are you loco?* I've never been to America!" I shouted.
"Hey, hey, hey! Keep you voice down, man. You want all the monsters and gangbangers, or monsters dressed as gangbangers, in a five block radius on our tails?" Andrew asked, looking around in a panic. "Look, the orientation film at camp will explain things better than I can. But right now, you need to trust me!"
I thought back to what my mother had said. She had told me to find Andrew, and I had known Andrew for years. I knew I could trust him.
"Okay." I said. "Let's go to America."
–•—•O•—•–
We made it to a bus stop, and Andrew produced some money for a bus ride. We took the bus to the airport. Once there, we went up to the ticket purchase desk.
"Dos vuelos directos a Nueva York, por favor."* Andrew said, producing a wad of cash.
My eyes widened. 'Where could he have gotten the money for that?' I wondered.
Soon, we were on the plane. As soon as we were seated (our seats were next to each other), I turned to him.
"Where did you get all that money?" I demanded. "Were you stealing? Were you involved in a gang? I always wondered how you paid for schooling. Mrs. Gonzales certainly didn't pay for it."
Andrew snorted. "No, she certainly did not. And I am ashamed that you would think I would be involved in a gang! I thought we were bros, man." He said dramatically, his brown eyes twinkling with amusement.
I rolled my eyes at his theatrics.
"Well, to answer your questions, no. I'm not, and was not, involved in a gang. Camp Half-Blood supplied me with money so I could find demigods, protect them, and bring them to camp. Like you."
"Of course you would have a benefactor. Why wouldn't you have a benefactor? This day just keeps getting better." I said, sarcastically.
"I'm sensing some hostility and frustration from you." Andrew comments.
"You think? What am I supposed to be feeling?"
"Touché." Andrew said. "But I promise, Marco. Everything will be fine."
"I hope you right." I grumble. "Now let's go meet your mysterious benefactor."
*Translations:
Familia= Family.
El Sol Cantina= The Sun Cantina.
Esto no es bueno. ¡No es bueno!= This is not good. Not good!
¡No es bueno!= Not good!
Hijo= Son.
Oh mis dioses= Oh my gods.
¿Adónde vas?= Where are you going?
Sólo un pequeño viaje, Rosalina. Regresaré más tarde.= Only a short trip, Rosalina. I will come back later.
Promesa= Promise.
Espero que volváis pronto.= I hope you return soon.
Irse= Go.
Estaremos bien. Voy a protegerlos.= We'll be alright. I will protect them.
Bien. Los amo a todos.= All right. I love you all.
Gracias a los dioses!= Thank the gods!
Johnson es una locura.= Johnson is crazy.
¡Hasta la vista!= So long!
Loco= Crazy.
Dos vuelos directos a Nueva York, por favor.= Two direct flights to New York, please.
Like I said, sorry if this is inaccurate! Let me know what you guys thought. REVIEW! :D
Thalia Bolt