My. First. Fanfiction. Ever. Written. I've already tried to publish this on other websites, but it never really took. And since I've reformatted it so many times, it takes a while to edit. But even though it was written years ago and is probably really bad, I love it. It's one of my longest fanfics and brings some crazy nostalgia. I can't even remember half the stuff I've written here. And it also kind of represents my growth as a writer as time and chapters pass by. I really enjoyed writing this and hope to start continuing on it again soon. I don't know what I'm going to do with this...thing. Oh well. I hope you like it as much as I do. Sidenote: I wrote each chapter in several smaller parts but joined them to make it longer here, if that information is ever relevant to anything.

Chapter 1

I raced across the border, slashing at the monsters chasing me. Don't ask me what they are because I have no idea. I can't even begin to describe them. But enough of that.

You probably don't care anyway. So, where was I? Oh, yes. The last monster turned to dust. I spun around, looking for another enemy. But there weren't any more. I turned a full three hundred-sixty degrees, but there still weren't any other monsters. Somewhere, a horn suddenly blew. I jumped and ran down the hill, ending up crouched behind the big blue building. I peered around the wrap-around porch. Kids poured out of cabins, and nature spirits appeared from the lake and woods that surrounded the summer camp. They gathered around a centaur that I knew to be the legendary Chiron. He started speaking to the campers, but I was too far away to hear the words. Nobody seemed to have noticed my arrival. At least, that's what I thought until someone behind me asked, "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

I whirled around so fast I got a bit of whiplash. The middle-aged satyr backed up as my sword pressed against his throat. "The question should be, 'Who are you?'" I hissed.

He gulped. "My name is Hedge. Now, answer my question."

I smiled at him darkly and lowered my blade. "You have some spunk, Hedge." I held out my hand. "My name's Helena. I'm looking to stay here at Camp Half-Blood."

He nodded, as if satisfied by my answer. "A lot of demigods do. Do you know who your godly parent is?"

"I don't have one," I stated simply. "My grandmother is Athena."

He started. "Your grandmother?! We've never had any second-generation demigods before. Where exactly have you been? I don't think I've seen you before. You must have stayed somewhere very safe for you to still be alive and never been here. So, what happened to you, cupcake?"

I hesitated. I hadn't planned on telling anyone here what my history was. I cringed at the very thought of saying aloud the reason I was really here. But it seemed as if I was stuck. I would either have to tell Hedge now or explain to Chiron later. I decided to do neither; I would lie to both of them. I quickly came up with my false story. Then, I started to tell the first lie I had told ever since the gods punished me.

"My father was the son of Athena. He wasn't like normal demigods, though. He never found out that he was a child of a goddess until she came to him in a vision right before he met my mother. So, he was never really attacked by any major monsters during his childhood like normal half-bloods. When my mom gave birth to me, he knew that I was the granddaughter of Athena, and, when he thought I was old enough to handle it, he told me. Unfortunately, the place he told me was his deathbed. He died right after he told me, and I've been fending for myself against the creatures that come after me ever since and struggling to make my way here, where I know I'll be safe. And now I'm here."

Hedge actually wiped his eye with the back of his hand. "Wow, you've really had a hard life, huh?" He sniffled then seemed to realize that he's crying and straightened up. "So, who's your father, cupcake?"

"Um…" I paused, uncertain what I should say. "His name was Marcellus Day. He was a…uh, he was a neuroscientist. Yeah, he was a neuroscientist."

The satyr didn't seem to be listening. He kept staring at the group gathered around the centaur Chiron. I looked over there too. And gasped.

"What? What is it?" Hedge asked.

I didn't answer. My mouth was wide open. "How…how in the world…?"

"What are you talking about?" he demanded.

My eyes were as wide as quarters. I didn't understand how he could be here. How could he have gotten here so fast? I had thought that I had left him behind days ago. Apparently, I was wrong.

I watched as the group started to split, going into the woods for something. Hedge was still bugging me about the reason I gasped, but I barely heard him. Suddenly, on some instinct, I sprinted off after them, leaving the bewildered satyr behind.

When I reached the edge of the forest, I hesitated. Should I really go in there? It could be a mistake; he could be just someone that looked like him. But no, I knew that had to be him. There was no mistaking the light brown mess on his head that he called hair, his intelligent green eyes, and his mischievous smile.

But still, I could be making a big mistake. I don't think snooping around a place you're trying to get into is the best plan, especially if you get caught by the person in charge of it. I don't know about you, but I'm pretty sure Chiron wouldn't appreciate his new recruit sneaking around his camp.

I pondered whether or not I should go. Finally, I made my decision.

Climbing trees had never been the easiest thing for me. Truly, I had never seen an actual living tree before a few weeks ago. Nevertheless, I had climbed many other things in my lifetime, so I figured it out pretty quick.

I walked among the branches of the trees, making sure each one was sturdy enough before stepping on it. I used the sound of footsteps, and occasionally voices, to guide me. Finally, I reached a creek with a person seeming to be standing guard. I watched as he wiped his nose with his arm and sniffed. Well, that wasn't disgusting or totally gross at all.

I started off again after a sneeze from him, making barely a noise. I found many other people after that, but I couldn't find the boy I saw earlier. Maybe he's on the other team, I reasoned. I had seen them split into two groups which I guessed were teams for some kind of game. Apparently, I was correct for I had spotted two team flags at different ends of the area of the forest that they were playing the game in while I was up high in a tall tree.

Suddenly, there was a rustling noise behind me. I slowly turned my head, so to not alert the thing of my presence. Unless it already knew I was here.

The sound came again. I squinted at the bushes that were the source of the mysterious and ominous swishing noise. What could it be? I continued to watch the seemingly ordinary bushes. I stared and stared and stared and…there! The slightest of movements came from within the leaves.

I waited for any other sign of change, tense as a cat stalking its prey. Hours seemed to pass by. Finally, I got what I had been waiting for. The leaves of the undergrowth stirred, this time a lot more violently. Whoever, or whatever, had been hiding in the shrubs was about to come out.

And I would be waiting for it.

I ran across the tree branches, closely pursuing my prey. It scampered quickly through the undergrowth of the forest. It was completely oblivious to the fact it was being chased. That only made it all the easier.

I continued to track my target, barely making a sound, whereas it crashed through the bushes and ferns below me. It was probably making enough noise to wake the whole forest, even though it probably wouldn't be many animals since it was only about noon.

I wondered why it would make such a ruckus. Was something else chasing it? That thought brought me to a skidding halt. I listened for a moment. The only sound other than the noises my quarry was making was of my own panting breaths.

I was about to take off again when I heard another sound. It was something that definitely didn't belong in the woods: the sound of metal clanging against metal. Abandoning my prey, I raced off in the direction of the noise.

When I arrived, I came to a screeching halt. There was a fight going on between two boys. But this wasn't a normal fistfight. Both of them had full battle armor and swords.

I watched the battle for a few moments. Then, bored, I leaped from the branch I was standing on to one that was too far away to walk to. I kept walking (and, occasionally, leaping) from branch to branch until I found it.

It was one of the flags I had seen earlier. It was the gray one with the owl on it. Intrigued, I dropped to the ground, as silent as…well, something that's really, really quiet. A cat, maybe?

I waited, crouched on the ground, for any sign of danger. When there seemed to be none, I crept closer. I kept moving closer and closer to the flag. Finally, I was near enough to touch it. I reached my hand toward it, the shimmering fabric seeming to beckon to me, whispering my name over and over again.

My hand brushed against the cloth. Nothing happened. Before I could feel any disappointment, I heard a rustle behind me. Then, on some instinct, I quickly ripped the flag from the pole and stuffed it into my pocket. Then, I ran.

Something chased me. I was too fast for it to catch me, but it didn't give up. It followed me all the way across the creek I had seen earlier. Once I crossed the liquid boundary, though, it stopped. I waited for it to start pursuing me again, panting in exhaustion. But it didn't.

I used that moment of rest to look again at the wadded cloth in my pocket…and almost dropped it. For, I was staring at it.

Mixed emotions bubbled up inside me as I looked once again upon the thing. I felt longing, fear, embarrassment, hope, love, hatred, joy, sorrow, and a lot of other things, some of which I couldn't even begin to comprehend.

To the common eye, it was pretty simple. Just a single shape. But to me, it was so much more than that. It represented practically my whole life.

I stared at it, everything else utterly forgotten. For this was the thing I both dreaded and hoped to see. It was, in fact, a Greek Δ Delta. It was the mark of Daedalus. The mark of my father.