Prologue

This is the tale of Virgil Masterson. My tale. I will not ask you to believe me, merely to listen.

It was a miserable day. The rain was beating down against my face as my father was lowered into the ground. He was all I ever had and I barely knew the man. All of my life he seemed more like someone I often crossed paths with but not a parent. He only seemed concerned with being a celebrity. I told him he could have his reality show, but to leave me out of it. People would come over to me and offer their condolences, but for whatever reason they all seemed feigned. All of them but one.

A beautiful woman came over with a girl who must have been her assistant. The woman's hair was a rich honey blonde that flowed down past her shoulders and her eyes were a vibrant shade of green with specs of brown scattered like the stars in the night sky. She told me with a sad smile "Virgil, I am truly sorry for you loss. Your father was a good man who cared about you very much".

I tried to act like I did not believe her, but I just broke down sobbing. I managed through the river of tears to ask "Why would he just leave me like that? How could he leave me alone?"

The woman just hugged me, as I imagine a mother would, whispering "Shh, everything will be alright". Then, turning to her assistant, she said "Will you take him to her?"

Her assistant betrayed herself with a sour face when she said "Of course my Lady". And then she offered me her hand. I took it, not truly understanding why. Perhaps it was because it was what the woman had wanted; perhaps it was the fact that I really did not want to be at my father's funeral; most likely it was a combination of the two. The assistant took me to a black car and sat in the back with me. I turned to look as we left and I saw the woman laying a simple red rose on my father's fresh grave.

The ride was rather awkward to say the least. Every question I asked was met with a swift and vague answer. She had determined almond eyes and kept her auburn hair in a tight bun. The strangest part was that she appeared to be about seventeen but acted like she was forty. The pant suit did not make her look young, nor did it really flatter her. I think the freckles across her nose truly gave her youth away.

"You are not human" I finally said, in a very flat tone.

Her eyes widened in genuine shock "How did you know?" she demanded.

Now it was I who was astonished "Surely you must be joking?" I exclaimed.

Her stern grimace parted for a warm smile as she said "I'm not, and don't call me Shirley" she said with a wink. "The name's Amber, fauness extraordinaire"

"What?" was all I could manage.

She laughed as she began to remove her pants. I quickly became completely embarrassed, like any thirteen year old boy would be. However I noticed under her ill fitting pants were goat legs. She really was a fauness. I sat silently stunned for the rest of the ride trying to process what had just happened.

When we exited the car, Amber declared that we had arrived. Which prompted me to ask, "Why are we at a burned down mansion?"

"To meet Lupa of course!" she exclaimed.

My mind began to race. During the car ride I had developed two theories, either I was dreaming or Roman mythology was real. I decided not to leave anything to chance and assume the latter. Then I tried to figure out who Lupa was. "She was the Wolf goddess who raised Romulus and Remus" I finally said.

"Right you are! Well I really must be going" she said. We both heard a great snarl come from inside. "Thompson, DRIVE!" she shouted as she quickly entered the car.

Come inside Little One, let us see if you are pup or prey a giant she-wolf said. I had no idea how she appeared there without me noticing. She was not really talking, but I understood her perfectly. I followed her without question. She led me into the building for a bit, and then she suddenly turned around and let out a deafening roar. Her teeth were barred and her eyes looked like she was about to kill me. I knew that if I fought her I would die but I held my ground and met her gaze. Then she started laughing, or what I hoped was laughter. Most of my pups lack the courage you have shown Little One, your Father shall be proud.

"My father is dead" I said somberly

Her ears perked up. Strange, but no matter, we shall know your immortal Mother soon enough.

"Immortal?" I asked. "Are you saying that I am a demigod?"

Indeed Little One, a Half Blood, and now you shall meet the First Legion of Rome. And with that, She took me to Camp Half Blood.