Howdy! LuckyLu here, better known as LuLuCheng on other parts of the internet, here to bring you my fresh take on the Percy Jackson universe. My plan is to release each chapter on a weekly basis until its conclusion, if it gets enough positive reviews then I'll consider a sequel and release that as well! The main idea behind this that I wanted a story that gave the spotlight to the Roman side of things. Furthermore, I wanted to see what it'd be like to be the children of minor gods as we mostly focus on the bigger, more popular Gods that fill the PJ universe. It will have a blend of new characters and old ones and how the two camps function after the events of HoO and ToA. I'll try to make it as interesting and fun as possible, but I'm warning you now that there is going to be heavy gore, death, and some possible light romance if I decide to take it in that direction. Lastly, I'll have to ask you to forgive any grammar and spelling mistakes as I suffer from dyslexia and still miss things even after multiple read-overs. Other than that, I hope you enjoy Bartholomew Cooperman and the Grimoire of Creation!

Chapter I

I Get Choked Out By my Tenth Grade History Teacher

BARTHOLOMEW

Last night, my nightmares were the most vivid it had ever been. So vivid in fact that I believed that I was back there, experiencing it all over again. It had only been a few weeks since it happened, but it still felt as if it happened yesterday. I don't quite understand how I knew it would happen, I tried to ignore the tingling sensation in the back of my neck to no avail. It started as soon as I woke up that day for school, a heavy sensation of dread held tightly in my stomach. In my young mind, I couldn't even fathom that someone could do that, much less to children. Other than that, it had started as a normal day, my father, who decided to come home for the first time in a long while, suggested that I stay home that day if I was so worried, but he knew I would never take him up on that offer. What can I say, was I weird kid for not wanting to spend the day with a father that looked like he was two heartbeats away from death? I greeted my teacher, Mrs. Smith, as I did every morning, and as usual, she ignored me. I couldn't quite grasp why she felt it was necessary to single me out, but no matter how much ruckus my father made, the school refused to do anything about it, they even had the audacity to claim that a teacher of that name wasn't even on campus. The day progressed normally until lunch, Mrs. Smith sat casually at her desk filing at her spikey nails, her face looking as if she just ate a particularly sour lemon. I sat quietly at my desk and munched slowly on my PB&J sandwich, which per school rules, lacked both peanut butter and jelly and was instead filled with a peanut butter alternative. That's when I felt the tingling get even worse, deep down I knew something bad was going to happen, and that it was going to happen soon.

Then I felt it, a sudden wave of heat had pushed its way into the classroom. The other kids looked uncomfortable but didn't say anything for fear of inciting the wrath of our 10th-grade history teacher. Then it happened, Mrs. Smith's usual grimace had turned into a tight smile, revealing a set of perfect teeth. She gingerly placed her file on her desk and shot out of her chair, causing it to hit the wall with a loud thunk! Her voice broke the silence that permeated the room, it was soft and sweet, the kind of voice that could make you do anything, no matter how unrealistic.

"Alright, Children!" She said, her voice pulling the attention of everyone in the room "I just received word that we're all going on a special field trip!"

The whole class erupted in chatter, A field trip? I thought, why would we go on a field trip in the middle of lunch? I spent the next few seconds raking my mind trying to figure out what kind of trip we'd be going on before her voice pulled my attention back.

"This is a special trip, a once in a lifetime event!" Mrs. Smith chuckled to herself as if she had just made a funny joke only she was aware of, "But before we leave, can anyone tell me what natural gas smells like?"

The students around me looked at her in confusion, oblivious to the events that were about to unfold. My whole body was tingling at this point, it was as if I was vibrating in alarm, screaming at myself to run as far as I can, and now I wish I had listened. I knew deep down that something wasn't right, so I did something I was told to never do. I slowly reached down into my bag and felt around before my hand caught on the item I was searching for. I gripped it tightly and withdrew an eye shaped pendant suspended on a thin gold chain. It was rather heavy, so I usually kept it tucked away in my bag, my father had told me to always keep it near me as it was a gift from my mom. I didn't quite understand why my mom would have something like this, it was rather strange truth be told. Faceted in the middle was a beautiful sapphire that shimmered elegantly which gave off the illusion of an eyeball, on the left side of the sapphire sat a burning torch, flanking the torch on the right side was a key. I wasn't sure why my father placed so much importance on it until I figured out what it let me do.

I was heavily picked on as a kid, I guess I was just an easy target and it was only made worse when they saw me wearing the necklace. Thompson, the schoolyard bully, had seen the necklace under my shirt and demanded that I give it to him. I guess his bird brain saw something shiny and just had to have it. I shakily told him no and before I knew it I was surrounded by his lackeys. The next thing I knew I was on the ground getting beaten while I was curled up trying to protect my head. Then I felt the necklace get warm and before I knew it every single sprinkler head had burst, causing an ocean of stagnant water to wash over my attackers. Of course, I was blamed for the incident, but it was written off as hardware failure since then I had been ostracized and bullied by most of my peers. Rumors quickly started popping up about how I was some sort of Satanist who had sold his soul. The school didn't do much about it, it was like I didn't exist to them.

After that event I began to practice with the necklace, at first, I was only able to cause small objects to combust, like pebbles and such. Then I realized the full scope of the necklaces power, slowly I began to be able to move stuff by thinking about it, summoning small flames in my hands. As a child I could only rationalize it as magic, I became enamored by the necklace and the power it granted me. Not long after, I learned that using the necklace came with a price, I had just got done using magic to clean the house and I felt blood drip down my nose and I felt the world spin around me. I woke up several hours later in a pool of my own vomit, I felt as if I had just gotten kicked in the head by a horse. My father was furious, and for once it felt like he actually cared about me in some twisted way. I couldn't care much though as he wasn't home very often, only popping in every once and awhile to make sure I was still alive. Other times he'd pop by to teach me how to use weapons or hand to hand combat. I'd always complain and ask him why he'd do these kinds of things and every time the answer would be the same.

"I'm training you how to survive" He'd say in his deep, thunderous voice, "It might not make sense now, but it'll mean the difference between death and a second chance when you're older"

As you might be able to guess, we didn't get along all that well. When he was home I'd typically spend my time locked up in my room while he tinkered away in his workshop. The only time I saw him seem visibly worried about me was when I called him to let him know that some strange looking people were loitering around our house. A few hours later he was crashing through the door screaming my name as if he expected me to be dead on the floor with my guts strewn about. Then, in classic fashion, he'd Houdini himself out of my life. After he found out what I could do with the necklace he became even more distant, popping by maybe once or twice a month and only to make sure that I hadn't used the necklace since. He'd always tell me he'd teach me how to use it when I was older, but I guess I should've known that wasn't going to happen when he suddenly showed up and stayed longer than a night.

I wrapped my hand tightly around the necklace, the familiar warmth seeping into my hand. Mrs. Smith was now tapping slightly on the wall, seemingly looking for something. It was several seconds before she seemingly found what she was looking for, and to the shock of the other children in the class, Mrs. Smith shoved her nails into the brick, cutting it like butter. She made quick work of the mortar that held the brick in place and slowly slid it out, revealing a slim, vertical, copper pipe in the depths of the wall. Her smile grew even larger as she turned to the class.

"Now children, when the teacher asks a question it's only right that you answer it!" Again, my classmates looked on in confusion as they waited for Mrs. Smith to answer her own question. Her smile dipped in a temporary frown but was quickly replaced with a new smile.

"No matter, we can't expect you all to be winners!" She slid her nail deep into the pipe, causing natural gas to seep into the room with a soft hiss.

Gas quickly filled the room, it's noxious smell began to burn my nostrils. The kids around me began to fidget, some even trying to stifle tears. My mind went into overdrive, why was she doing this? I thought to myself, even then I couldn't fathom what my life was going to become. Mrs. Smith turned to face the class, her mouth contorted into a wicked grin like a maniac.

"What's wrong kids, cat got your tongue?" Mrs. Smith said mockingly, "You humans are all the same, weak-willed and weak-minded!"

We humans? My mind was going a million miles a minute, analyzing Mrs. Smith's every move, was my father, right? Did monsters truly exist? I always thought it was just the ramblings a drunken old man trying to rationalize the evils in the world. He always told me to be on the look-out for people out of the ordinary, people who didn't act quite human. I watched in silent horror, my fingers trembling around the warm pendant as Mrs. Smith approached a meek girl sitting next to me. I didn't know her personally, to be honest not many people gave me much thought. I guess I just had one of those faces, the one that makes people automatically think I'm a thug looking for trouble. I've been told many times that I had a rather weasel-y face, whatever that meant. It wasn't helped by the fact that the rumors of the sprinkler incident followed me all the way to high school. I watched with baited breath as Mrs. Smith extended her long, claw-like finger and looped a piece of the girl's brunette hair around it.

"Now, Katie, can you tell me what you think is happening?" Mrs. Smith said, "And be honest"

"I don't know," Katie said, her voice quiet and weak, "Why are you doing this?"

Mrs. Smith, who seemed unsatisfied with this answer, grabbed a chunk of Katie's hair and lifted her out of the desk. That's when the buzzing forced me into action, I didn't know what was happening but I knew I couldn't sit idly by while this mad woman attacked one of her students. The pendant was practically burning into my skin at this point. I managed to gain control of my legs and hoisted myself out of the seat.

"Put her down!" I said, my voice weak and trembling

"Oh!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed, surprised by my sudden bravery, "And I suppose the big hero is going to stop me? Look around mortal, do you see any imperial gold or celestial bronze around here, there's nothing you can do to me!"

"Mortal? Gold and Bronze?!" I practically screamed, my fear began to get the better of me, "You're just as human as I am, and no special gold is going to stop me from stopping this!"

"Such a loud thing, just sit down, you're beginning to make me very upset," Mrs. Smith said with a fake pout before turning her attention back to Katie, "You don't smell like a demigod, none of you do! Why was I sent here if none of you have a drop of godly blood in you!"

Mrs. Smith, in a fit of rage, slammed Katie on the floor, the sound of her body cracking on the floor and Katie's subsequent screech of pain etched itself into my mind forever. Kids shrieked in terror as Katie remained unmoving, blood spilling out of her ears and nose. I knew I was in trouble when Mrs. Smith turned her gaze to me. I backed away as far as I could before I hit the side of my desk. Mrs. Smith loomed over me, I could feel my heart pounding away in my chest, my body seemingly trying to let instinct take over. I stood paralyzed in fear as she slowly wrapped her fingers around my neck, instantly I could feel my life slipping away. I couldn't believe that this is how I was going to go out, being choked by a teacher. Deep down I could feel anger boiling deep inside me, anger that I tried every day to keep down. I could feel it spilling over, thoughts raced through my head as I took my final breaths. It was funny in a way, my last moments being consumed with wrath and anger. Anger at my mother for leaving me alone despite all the excuses my dad made for her. Anger at those who judged me just because of how I looked. Anger that I couldn't do anything about it, even with the pendant. I felt my eyes getting heavy, all I wanted to do was give up and sleep, to let go of life. I could feel my body slowly shutting down, then I felt this warmth spread through me, giving me life. Breathing became easier and I could her grip loosening, my eyes fluttered open and saw a look of happiness spread over Mrs. Smith's face.

"So, it's you!" Mrs. Smith exclaimed in excitement before her face shifted to that of confusion, "But why don't you have a scent?"

"What are you talking about you absolute psychopath!" I stammered, trying to balance on my wobbling legs

Mrs. Smith ignored my statement, she turned and observed the room, all the kids were paralyzed in terror.

"Congratulations children!" She squealed "I found the one I was looking for, that means I can safely kill all of you now! If anybody in the Underworld asks how you died, be sure to tell them you went out with a bang!"

Time slowed down around me, I could see Mrs. Smith begin to snap her fingers. It was as if they were made of matches because small sparks began to shoot out as her fingertips rubbed together. Then I realized what she was going to do, I barely had time to react. Within milliseconds the sparks ignited the natural gas that filled the room. I watched in morbid amusement as the flame slowly began to consume the room, seemingly floating through the air. Then I felt it, it was like someone set off several thousand tons of TNT, I was flung backward and catapulted out of the classroom and onto the hard pavement outside. I felt the air get knocked out me, I laid on the concrete, gasping like a fish on dry land as the sound of sirens slowly approached the school. All around me were the charred remains of my classmates, I could feel tears begin to break through my eyes as my new reality dawned on me. I knew I couldn't stay, there would be too many questions that I couldn't answer, I knew I had to get home.

I forced myself to crawl to the edge of the woods, forcing my eyes closed so I didn't vomit every time I'd accidentally touch bits and pieces of my classmates. My body groaned in pain as I slowly made my way to the edge of the woods. Eventually, my breathing steadied out and I could stand, not soon after I broke through the edge of the woods and made my way back to my house. It was a rather shabby, hidden deep within the woods with odd carvings etched deep within the trees that made up the interior of the grove that my house sat in. I struggled up the porch stairs and stumbled through the door, surprised by the sight of my father who has been absent for two months.

"Barry!" He said, practically jumping out of his skin, "What are you doing here? What happened to you?"

I limped into the living room and collapsed onto the musky chair, freely crying now, the salty tears burning as they slid down my face

"They're all dead" I said, barely able to process it

"Barry, what happened" My father knelt in front of me, his unusually caring eyes seemed to betray his rather deathly look.

My father was an odd person to say the least. He was tall and looked like a mix between an angry lumberjack and a mortician. Pale skin highlighted the deep bags under his eyes, it seemed that he had trouble sleeping. When he was home he'd spend his time locked up in his workshop, a place that I was forbidden to enter. I caught a glimpse inside once as a young child and was amazed to see an assortment of various weapons and armor lining the walls. But they weren't just any ordinary weapons or armor, they seemed to radiate this odd power that attracted me. My father was very closed off about his life, rarely talking about his past and even more closed off about the various scars and tattoos he sported. Often, I'd catch him staring off with a mile-long stare, as if he was silently mourning the loss of something. I could never quite understand him truth be told, I've had to move more times than I could count because I offhandedly mentioned the strange behavior of a friend or a crazy neighbor, luckily life had remained pretty normal for the last couple of years and I was able to stay at the same school district.

I struggled as I recounted what happened, a deep sorrow seemed to grip him as I talked about the gory details.

"All those innocent people, just for a young boy" I heard him say quietly, "Barry, I know this is going to be hard, and it's going to sound crazy, but I need you to listen"

My father's voice was seized with panic, I could barely focus on it. It felt as if the whole world was spinning around me. With a few soft taps to the face, my father brought me back to reality.

"Barry, please this is serious. I need you to focus and I need you to pay attention to what I'm telling you" He gripped me tightly, forcing me to put all my attention on him, his deep amber eyes meeting my own.

"Dad, I don't understand, what's happening?" I could feel the anger building up again, I knew how this was going to play out already. He was going to give me a bunch of vague instructions and keep me in the dark.

"Go to the workshop, the panel in the wardrobe is fake, pull it out and there should be a backpack in it. Get that backpack and run as fast as you can out the back door. Don't stop running until Lupa comes for you, she'll help you" He began to cautiously peak outside the window, as if he was expected someone to show up on our doorstep, "Barry, I know we've never seen eye to eye and I'm sorry I can't explain further, but I made a promise to your mother that I can never break"

That did it, that set me over the edge, I couldn't believe that even now he was keeping secrets from me, much less using my mom as an excuse. Anger flared up inside of me, of all the times that he could've talked about her, of all the chances I gave him, he decides to do it now? Not only does he run off for months at a time doing god knows what, now he won't even give me the time of day to talk to me when something this bad happens? I couldn't take it anymore, I shot up out of the chair, anger burning deep within my eyes.

"Really?" I yelled, "That's it?"

"Barry, please we don't have time for this" I could hear exhaustion creeping into his voice, "Just do what I told you to"

"I dragged myself out of the woods, burnt and bloodied, and you didn't even ask me if I was ok" My voice wavered as I vented my frustration, "Do I even matter to you, or am I some nuisance that my mother dropped on you?"

Sadness consumed my father's face, if I didn't know any better I would've said that he was close to tears. My father suppressed his showing feelings, but when he spoke his voice betrayed him.

"Barry, I don't ever want you to think you were anything less than my pride and joy, that's why I trust Lupa to come for you. You won't understand this now but your bloodline is strong, I know you'll be safe at camp. But for now, I need you to go, whatever happened was a sign that I can no longer protect you" His voice sounded worried, he pulled me in a tight hug but I was far too upset to reciprocate

"Protect me!" I yelled, pushing him away, "So that's what you were doing huh? Protecting me from the monsters that creep in the night when you're out on your little escapades?"

"Barry, it's not like that!" His voice was small and defeated, "I'm just trying to do the best I can. Please, Barry, I don't want anything to happen to you and the only way I can guarantee that is if you follow my instructions."

"There you go again!" I said, pushing him away, "You won't tell me what's going on, you sit there and bark orders at me and yet you won't give me the time of day to explain things"

Then I felt it, the harsh sting of reality as my father's palm collided with my face. It was the first and last time my father laid a hand on me, and with that gesture, I understood the gravity of that situation.

"That's enough, Barry" My father growled, his demeanor shifting from the worried father to that of a warrior, "Either you do what I say or we both die here tonight"

My head was spinning, what does he mean by "we both die here tonight"? I wondered to myself. My head was swimming as my body went into autopilot and in a daze, I shuffled to the hallway. My eyes shifted to the heavy oak door that blocked of my father's workshop from the rest of the house. For the first time, I noticed how the doorknob seemed to emanate a soft golden glow. I wrapped my fingers around the doorknob, and to my astonishment, the doorknob seemed to radiate the same warmth the pendant does. The door shifted open with a series of clicks and grinding and opened into a large room lined with vast amounts of weapons and armor. Roman swords and spears sat in various containers along the wall. Sitting on various shelves and tables laid different types of armor in differing states of disrepair.

"What the?" I whispered to myself, my voice seemingly bouncing around the room

I knew my father was obsessed with this kind of stuff, but I didn't know that my father had this stuff squirreled away. My dazed mind swarmed with memories of my childhood when my father would spend his scarce time home reading me various stories of great Roman heroes, speaking as if he knew a few of them personally. My mind came back to reality as my eyes locked onto an oddly placed wardrobe in the corner of the room. It was nothing special, except for the fact that it seemingly lacked any way to open it. I placed my hand on the front of it, and as if it recognized me it let out a loud shudder before a soft click popped the doors open. The contents were strange as well, various colored togas sat inside of the wardrobe, the white one seemingly more worn than the others. I pushed past the old, musky togas and pushed the false panel out the of the way. Sitting behind the wardrobe was a small hook holding up a seemingly normal bookbag, one that you'd probably see a hiker with. I removed it from the hook and slung it over my shoulder, it was going to be hard leaving this place but I didn't have time to think about that. That's when I heard it, the shrill voice of Mrs. Smith echo from outside, why was she here?

"Oh, itty bitty Barry, you know it's illegal to flee the scene of a crime" Her voice was full of sadistic pleasure, "Especially when a troubled kid like yourself set a fire next to a propane tank, what were you thinking?"

My heart sped up again, why was she here? Did she chase me? I darted back out in the living room, my father standing ready and alert by the door. He looked me up and down, obviously saddened by what had to happen next. I looked him in his eyes one last time, unable to form the courage to apologize before I knew it I was heading for the back door. The sun burned brightly in the crisp autumn sky, I trekked off into the forest knowing that this would be the last time seeing this home for a while. I turned back to gaze at it one last time, taking in the peeling paint job that wrapped the exterior, the harsh metal roofing that would shudder during a serious rain storm. I tried to think about the experiences I had in that house, the times spent alone while my father was off somewhere. The times I've had to hide under the stairs with a Mossberg 500 because someone was trying to get into the house. Even to the time when I almost set it on fire because I forgot to put water in my ramen cup, I can still remember the feeling of panic I had when I saw the black smoke billowing from the ancient microwave. I was forced back into reality after I saw Mrs. Smith crest the side of the house, but instead of the small, petit teacher, a towering monster now stood in her place. Her normal flame red hair now replaced with genuine fire that reached towards the heavens in a flickering inferno. The leg that I thought to be a prosthetic was now replaced fully with one made of copper. Beside the leg of copper stood a leg made of shaggy fur capped with a cloven hoof.

Mrs. Smith's eyes locked onto mine, a wicked grin spread across her face, her usual white teeth now replaced with bloodied fangs. I gazed at her in horror, my body unable to move, I realized that all those times I called her a monster were true and not a manifestation of my frustration.

"Enough of these silly games little brother, there's someone very important who wants to see you, and I can't say I'm one to disappoint!" Mrs. Smith slowly approached, her copper leg leaving a heavy print in the soft dirt as she approached him.

Little brother? I thought, there's no way I could be related to something like her! My legs reacted before my head did, and before I knew it I was heading headlong into the deepest parts of the forest. I felt the scratches of thorns sting on my skin, the smacking of branches on my body as I plowed through them. None of that mattered to me, I knew that I had to keep going, faster and faster, I couldn't afford to stop. I saw the land around me change, from deep forests to water, from water lush green fields, from fields to cities and deserts. I didn't stop until my legs gave out and I tumbled hard on the ground. I could feel my blood flowing freely from every orifice on my face, had I used magic to get away from Mrs. Smith? I thought, trying to make sense of new location. As I slowly drifted out of consciousness my eyes caught a glimpse of a road sign and on it, in bold white font read "Welcome to California!". My head began to throb, how did I get to California from Michigan so quickly? My question had to wait as I slowly drifted in and out of consciousness, the last thing I heard before I lost consciousness was the ominous howl of a wolf in the distance.