REWRITTEN!

Hi!

First of all: I'd like to say that I've restarted the poll about who Rox should be with.

Second of all: someone came with the suggestion to put Hermes and Apollo in the poll, too, so now they're in it! Yay!

Third of all: I'm taking Daimon out, sorry to you guys that like him, but he just wasn't popular enough, Percy won by a mile!

Fourth: if it does end up being Hermes or Apollo, then, obviously, it's not going to happen for some time, as Rox is only a kid right now.

Fifth: when this book is complete, the poll ends.

Sixth: vote please! Pretty please!

Disclaimer: the PJO series goes to Rick Riodan, I don't own anything except for my OC.

Prologue

"The beginning of legends."

Poison green headphones covered the 11-year-old's ears, as Rox happily listened to her Ipod, bobbing her head to the music that blasted through the speakers. She mumbled along to the lyrics of whatever song was playing.

She weaved her way through the dense crowd of bodies, her small form making it easier for her to move along. Though she was used to it by now, she still felt uncomfortable with all those people pressed against her. She tried to tune out the ones around her, as people pushed and elbowed their way through to his or her destination, equally ignoring others around them.

She suddenly came to a stop and nearly made the man behind her bump into her. He cursed under his breath, something Rox found funny since adults always scowled her for using curse words, but that didn't seem to count for them apparently. Go figure.

As the man made his way around her, he gave her a glare, something she rather blatantly ignored. Instead, she looked at the park; flowers of every color bloomed in different patterns, but she frowned as she looked at the people around her hurrying off to wherever.

Why did everything have to go so fast?

Rox continued making her way to her own destination with a slight sigh escaping her lips. She turned down a corner barely evading a woman, who was talking on the phone, as she flattened herself against the wall of the building. She blinked owlishly, the woman hadn't even seemed to notice anything and continued to speak with the person on the phone, nearly running.

She frowned. People these days…

"Hey, lass!" Rox heard a male with a British accent call out. "Are you Roxanna Fleur?" he then asked.

She turned to face the voice, but the people passing by where in the way, she couldn't see who had called for her, only small glimpses of an Italian suit. How had he even seen her?

Shaking her head, she pushed off the wall and made a quick escape when she saw her chance.

When she found herself looking at a sleek black limo, Rox took off her headphones and turned of the music pumping through them. Her eyes ran over the tall and elegant man in suspicion, ready to bolt at any moment if it should turn for the worse.

She hadn't seen him before – not at school nor at the orphanage -, so how did he know her?

The man was leaning against the limo that was parked on the sidewalk, looking for all she knew relaxed. He didn't seem bad, as of yet, but she still wouldn't trust him.

In her eyes, he looked wealthy, and Rox couldn't really see what a rich person like him would want with an orphan like her. Not like she was world famous for being a child prodigy or something.

Truth be told, Rox suffered from dyslexia and, as the cherry on top, ADHD.

She narrowed her eyes at the man, not completely sure if she should just run for it or not. She finally said, "And you are…?" She was looking at the lapel that was pinned to his suit, but her dyslexia was making it difficult to read it. To her, it looked like: HAOCRN.

The man apparently noticed her trouble and saved her from suffering any further. "You can call me Charon."

Rox sent the man – apparently named Charon (what had his mother been smoking?) – a weird look, not completely sure if he was joking or not. "You share the same name as the ferryman of Hades?" she sounded doubtful, one thin eyebrow raised.

"You could say that." A sly smile had spread across Charon's features.

A small silence wrapped around the two. Even when it was mixed with the sounds around them, it felt extremely quiet for Rox. She always hated the silence – it felt like some sort of invisible doom was looming over her head, just waiting for her to make a mistake, so it could finally slash her to ribbons.

Or maybe she'd just gotten too used to the loud ruckus of the city.

Not able to hold in her curiosity – or able to stand the silence – for much longer, she asked, "So, Charon, what was it you needed me for?"

"Your father…" Charon begun. He suddenly didn't seem so sure.

She frowned, not understanding how he had anything to do with her. She hadn't heard anything of her father for a long time now, not having asked Mrs. Oswell about him for years – 6, if one wanted to be exact -, and when Charon didn't elaborate, she grew impatient. "Well?"

Charon pursed his lips, thinking over how to phrase the next part. Not finding any way to lessen the blow, he said, "He's alive, luv."

Rox blinked, not entirely sure she heard correctly. "What? M-my father's- He's-" she stiffened and felt the rage starting to spread through the pit of her stomach. A headache was forming in her head, feeling like an iron helmet that kept tightening around her skull.

She wanted to lie down, but at the same time she felt like screaming at someone until her voice gave out. How could her father be alive? And why hadn't he then contacted her?

So he really didn't want her.

She started trembling slightly, her hands curled into fists, and her eyes hard and cold. "Oh? And how would you know?"

She saw Charon's eyes soften as he laid a hand on top of her head, caressing it with his thumb. She wanted to yell at him for it – she didn't need comfort from others -, but for some weird reason she allowed him to continue. For now at least.

Charon crouched down to her level and smiled reassuringly. Rox, despite herself, found that she gave a little smile in return and quickly turned her head away.

"He can't contact you directly himself, luv," Charon said and she looked up at him in curiosity from the corner of her eyes. "because of the laws in his family. But he did try and do as much as he could for you." Here Charon sent her a pointed look. "After all, he did choose the orphanage you live at, made a small bank account for you and gave you that ring you're wearing."

She felt warmth creep up from her neck and onto her cheeks in embarrassment. She averted her eyes to look at the people walking around them, minding their own business.

The embarrassing part? She actually knew all of this, though in her sudden rage she'd forgotten how much her father had already done for her. But after thinking that he had been dead for all these years, which then turned out to be a lie…?

It left her feeling helpless, and if there was one thing Rox hated above all, it was asking for help.

"How come you know all this?" she asked, trying to look past the fact that her cheeks were still slightly red.

Charon chuckled, as if something was deeply humoring him, and smiled secretively. "I work for him."

Rox snorted. "Really? You call him Hades for fun, then?" She gave a cheeky grin.

"Funny." Charon said drily and stood, though not without giving her hair a little extra ruffle for revenge. She huffed, frowning lightly, as she batted Charon's hand away. "He sent me here to check up on you, and it seems to me that you're doing just fine."

She felt herself smile, even as she tried to hide it.

"And remember this, luv," Charon said, his tortoise-shell shades pulled down the bridge of his nose. He was sitting inside the limo now, window rolled down and with his arm resting on the windowsill. "No matter what you do, he will be proud of you."

It was the only goodbye Rox got, as she watched the limo disappear down the road.

Review! And remember to vote! Thank you!