Graduates of Olympus

In the archives of Camp Jupiter, there are the records of many past heroes and their daring exploits. These records are kept so that their stories might be remembered and honored, as is fitting for heroes of New Rome. This is one such story: three heroes and their desperate fight against an invading army and its near-immortal leader. Written after the fact by all three of the heroes, whose names shall go down in the annals of New Rome. From their writing, it appeared as though they were writing not only for the benefit of the Legion, but for normal mortals as well. Hence, some things that are obvious to a Legionnaire are defined at length, such as the existence of the Gods and so forth.

Set an unspecified time before The Lightning Thief.

Original characters are mine, but the setting, situation and interpretations of Classical Mythology belong to Rick Riordan. As with all fanfiction, I'm just playing in someone else's sandbox.

Chapter 1: Chris

So a few days ago, life pretty much stunk.

How so? Well, try to imagine what I just went through, though after you hear my story, I don't think you'll be able to.

First off, you have to imagine that one of your parents is a God.

I'm not kidding. A God. Specifically, a Roman God.

Still with me? I'd be surprised if you were. Basically, the Roman Gods are real. All the stories you hear about Jupiter, Cupid, Venus, Mars, and all the others? All real. The stories about their kids, the Greek and Roman Heroes? Also all real.

You don't have to believe me if you don't want to. Heck, sometimes (like right now) I don't want to either. Technically speaking, for a full mortal like you, not believing is actually safer. You know the saying, "Ignorance is bliss"? Well, for you it is. Me, I'm not so lucky. Since I'm the child of a Roman God, I don't get that option.

On the slightly plus side, since I'm a Demigod (half god, half human, keep up with the lingo), I come better equipped than normal humans to deal with this kind of stuff.

"What stuff?" you might ask.

Well, what did Heroes in the old stories spend all their time doing?

That's right; fighting monsters. Which are also very real and very alive. In fact, it's one specific monster which is the reason my life sucks right now.

…But I guess I should go back a little. Just take it from me that there the Gods are real, they have children, I'm one of them, and fighting monsters is pretty much my life. OK?

My name is Chris. I'm nineteen years old. My father is Apollo, God of Archery, Light, Prophecy, Music, Healing and so forth. I'm above average height, lean and good looking (or so I've been told). Being Apollo's son, I've… I guess you would say inherited some of his gifts. I'm a pretty great archer (but I prefer to use a sword; don't judge me), I get minor premonitions about the future (usually just a few seconds, so betting is a no-go) and I can lay down a pretty mean curse when I want (not like a "! $ ^#*$# #%" curse, more like a "May your shoelaces always trip you when you're walking down the stairs", or a "may your pants forever smell like meat whenever a dog is nearby" kind of curse). What I excel at, though, is healing. Be it cuts, burns, bones or whatever, I can help with almost any infirmity or curse. If monsters ever stop bugging me for long enough, I'm going to medical school. My claim to fame? I once cured a kid of a poisoned knife so powerfully that the poison rebounded out of him and killed the monster that had stabbed the kid in the first place.

Anyway, this story isn't just about me. Toe-to-toe, most heroes, even lucky ones like me with an abundance of gifts (note here that "lucky" is relative; being normal would be best, but in lieu of that, it's nice to have some power to back you up), can't stand up to many of the monsters that come at us on a regular basis. What really tips the odds in the heroes favor is teamwork. Demigods, as a general rule, work in groups of three. Three's a pretty symbolic number for us in the mythology world. Three Fates, three Olympian Brothers, three levels in the Underworld, blah blah blah, so on, so forth, you get the idea. Also, the more Demigods in an area, the more monsters are attracted to our scent (we don't smell bad, just…appetizing to monsters), so three is a good balance between strength and stealth.

My first teammate is actually my sister. Well, I should say half-sister is more accurate, but we're close enough that we don't usually care to get specific. Her dad's also Apollo, but she has a different mom than me (the Gods still get around; that part of the old stories hasn't changed).

Anyway, her name is Willow, which suits her. She's what you would imagine as a daughter of Apollo: blond (like me; it's a pretty common Apollo trait), good looking (again, what I've been told; she's my sister) and slim, but strong enough to pull back on her longbow. She's one of the best archers I've ever seen, and I spend most my time around supernaturally enhanced fighters. You know those scenes in Lord of the Rings where Legolas is shooting two or three arrows at a time? Compared to Willow, Legolas is a noob. Also cooler than Legolas' are her arrows, which are dipped in Hydra blood, making a single scratch lethal; not that she misses much anyway. The arrows are also enchanted to return to her quiver unless they're broken, making her basically a human machine gun when she fights. She also plays a mean game of darts (she also bowls a good game, but I'm not sure if that has anything to do with her Godly heritage).

The final member of our team is Cor, my unofficial second in command. It's short for Cornelius, but don't call him that. Not because he'll do something horrible to you; he just likes Cor better. He's a year older than Willow and I, and he's a son of Vulcan, God of Smiths and Fire (not logic or pointy ears). He's tall, blond (not regularly a Vulcan thing, but whatever), with slightly under-average looks (which is a Vulcan thing) but very ripped (which I would swear is a Vulcan thing). He's not massively built; compared to some of his siblings he even looks on the skinny side, but he's got a martial artist's physique, which makes sense, because that's what he is. He's been trained with weapons like the rest of us, but his preferred combat style is hand-to-hand with a pair of cestus (think spiky brass knuckles that go all the way up to the elbow). Where he really shines, though, is his firepower. Literally, firepower; like shooting fireballs at people and setting his feet on fire before kicking you. It's a pretty dangerous gift, but I wouldn't have anyone else by my side in a fight. He also has a serious crush on Willow, but is too shy to do anything about it, poor guy.

Anyway, as individuals we're strong, but we've been working together since we were pre-teens, so our teamwork has been honed so sharp you could shave with it (figuratively, of course). We met up when we were young, we went on a quest together, and we've been inseparable ever since. Together we've survived some of the worst that Mythology could throw at us (and believe me, it can get pretty creative). We've even survived into adulthood, which is a pretty impressive feat for a Demigod. In fact, up until this quest I'm going to relate, I almost thought we were untouchable. How wrong I was.

We were in the desert, southwest United States. I don't know where exactly, and even if I did it probably wouldn't matter much. Normal space and time don't follow the same rules in areas of magic or monsters.

Our camp had received word of a group of monsters massing out in the middle of nowhere, so our Praetors (leaders of the camp) decided to send out a scouting group to determine what should be done. I was assigned to go, and got my pick of two companions to go with me. Naturally I picked my teammates, and we were off. Travel to the desert, find the monsters, if possible kill the monsters and go home. Easy (pfft, yeah right).

About two weeks later…

"Cor! Are you sure this is the way back to Camp Jupiter?" Willow called from the back of the line. In the front, Cor simply shrugged and kept walking. In between them, I silently wished for the hundredth time that we had stopped and asked for directions at the donut shop three days ago. Almost a week of wandering the desert and there wasn't anything. We'd decided a few days ago that there was no point in continuing the search and we might as well head back to Camp. With clear directions, and the Sun pointing us in the right direction, we definitely weren't lost.

"Hey! Aren't those our footprints up ahead?"

Crud.

We hurried forward to examine the offending tracks in the sand. Sure enough, they were our footprints, with each indent on top of the other to make it look like a single traveler instead of three.

I wiped the some sweat off my face Even though we had started out in the predawn that morning, the desert was already heating up to uncomfortable temperatures. "This is not reasonable. We've been traveling a straight line west. The sun's always in the right direction, and we check our location against the stars every night! We shouldn't be getting turned around like this!"

Cor crouched down next to the footprints and didn't say anything. He didn't need to; we'd been together long enough I could tell what was on his mind. "You think something's messing with us out here?" I asked him.

Cor straightened up. "Yes," he said. "We've been careful. We wouldn't mess something like this up normally; ergo, something is manipulating us".

"But that's almost impossible," Willow had come up from our rear to get a closer look at the prints. "We haven't seen a trace of anything sinister out here; not since the fire breathing horse stampede right as we left camp".

"That was still fun, by the way," Cor interjected before I could respond.

"First, we've been over this; it was still only fun for you, 'Sir Fireproof'"; I ignored Willow's snicker from behind my back. "Secondly, Willow is right. We haven't found hide or hair of anything, monstrous or otherwise, out here. Willow hasn't seen it, I haven't sensed it, and you, dear friend, haven't tripped over it".

"That just means it doesn't want us to find it; and I resent that last remark, by the way".

"You know, Cor, there is such a thing as being paranoid, even for us".

"It's not paranoia if something's actually out to get you".

"Fine." I performed an elaborate, if sarcastic, bow at Cor. "You're eloquent remarks have convinced…" I stopped as a flicker passed over my gaze. I stopped immediately and closed my eyes, holding my hands up for silence. Cor had been about to retort, but was immediately silent, all joking over.

How do I explain a premonition to someone? Imagine a moment of Déjà-vu, where you get the sensation that something has happened before. Well, for me, it's like a reverse of that. I get the sensation, not that I've done something before, but that I'm about to do something again. Usually images accompany the feelings, which is why I usually close my eyes; seeing the future is a headache enough without having to see it superimposed over the present.

Confusing, I know, but there's not an easy way to describe what happens when the universe bends around you and you can see the curvature of time and destiny itself.

Anyway, what passed was a quick flurry of images. In my mind's eye, I saw our group, exactly as it was in the present. The scene blurred, and then zoomed out. As more of the desert became visible, I spotted, behind some rock outcroppings, a group of monsters of an unidentified species watching us. The scene shifted back to us, now walking toward the outcropping. The monsters swarmed out and attacked our group, quickly cutting us all down.

Great. Another death forecast. Like I don't already get enough of them.

I opened my eyes. The good thing about my premonitions was that the more dangerous the event, the longer I had before it actually happened. So, while I normally couldn't tell what chariot would win in a race, I could see surprise birthday parties from a mile away (if you knew some of the things that happen at my birthday parties…). For this one, I could tell I had fifteen or twenty minutes.

"Cor. You win. Ambush less than half an hour out," I rubbed more sweat off my forehead as I tried to remember the specifics of the monsters. "Some kind of snake women things wielding swords. They don't look too tough, but they kill us."

Cor and Willow nodded, like getting killed was a regular occurrence. This should tell you how messed up our lives are.

"So, fearless leader?" Willow had shifted her bow so that, while it still looked securely strapped to her back, all she had to do was shrug and it would be in her hand. "Which direction to our doom?"

I pondered for just a moment. On one hand, we could just keep walking, avoiding the ambush all together. However, the monsters would probably just set up another one, and while my precognition was usually reliable, it wasn't perfect. We might not get a warning the next time around.

On the other hand, we would be walking directly into a planned ambush. True, we had the major advantage of being ready for it, but no sane person walks into certain danger if they can help it.

My next decision should clear all doubt about my mental stability.

"That way," I made sure my sword and knives were clear for drawing and started towards the impending ambush. "Doom ahoy".

See why my life stinks?