Summary: Selandria Kagai finds out that she is a demigod after her home burns down and her father is killed. Finding a new place for herself at camp half blood, her life is soon turned upside down by the emergence of a force so ancient that all thought it had disappeared forever. Now she must risk her very mind to defend what she holds dear. The question is, can she pay the price?

Rated T for kissing and violence. OC/OC

Selandria Kagai:

age: 14

DOB: December 3, 1997

appearance: Waist length pitch black hair, deep; midnight blue eyes; a bit on the thin side but not unnaturally so; pale, but has a Japanese bone frame and a Japanese accent, not a strong one, it's barely noticeable; 5'8"; willowy but strong

fears: Fire, as you shall soon see why! ;)

she lives alone with her Dad and is home schooled, only her dad knows who her mom is. they live by a pine grove at the base of some foothills in a traditional Japanese house. her dad desperately misses Japan, but according t him, her mom had asked him to raise her in america. she's very head strong and loves stargazing and night walks. she also hates to show weakness to anybody.

Disclaimer: Of course I own Percy Jackson, It's why the author is call RICK RIORDAN and why I'm writing FANFICTION. Jeez- who actually thinks I would try to plagiarize on a website hundreds of people visit? even if they don't look at this page. get a clue.

Chapter 1: Lost

Sel groaned, cracking her eyes. The first thing she registered was white. Lots and lots of white. Her room wasn't white, where was she? The second thing she noticed was that awful smell. It was a combo of meds, disinfectant and old people. She HATED it. The third thing she noticed, which she probably should have noticed first and it blew away both previous observations, was the intense, scorching pain in her lower back. All of her ached, really, and her throat was dry and raspy, but the pain in her back completely consumed all her other senses, so she barely registered the discomforts everywhere else. The skin felt feverish and raw, radiating heat and agony. Her eyes tearing, she bit back a yell, fighting the losing battle to keep up a strong front. A hiss of pain passed her lips, despite her best efforts.

"Selandria?" A pretty, female voice inquired, "Are you awake?" Sel could tell that it wasn't someone she knew. For one, the voice wasn't one she recognized. Two, they used the English pronunciation of her name. Three, anyone who had actually met her used her nickname, Sel, or Sera- depending on their native language.

"I'm up." Sel gasped, pain evident in her voice.

"Oh dear, your meds are wearing off," the voice gasped in pity, "Just give me a sec and I'll fix it." There were sounds of shuffling, and then a fuzzy feeling and the pain receded. Sel didn't know what the voice had done, but whatever it was, it had worked. Breathing a sigh of relief, Sel unclenched her eyes, slowly opening them. She was lying on her stomach in a completely white room that she didn't recognize. There was some kind of mask attached to her face, and she could hear a faint but steady beeping as well as feel a pricking sensation in her hand. Glancing toward where she thought the voice had come from, she spotted a young redheaded woman dressed in… you guessed it, white. It was official- white was her new least favorite color. Sel looked at the redhead and managed to croak out,

"Where am I? What happened?" Her voice was dry and raspy; she winced internally at how awful she sounded. The whit clad woman- God, she was starting to really loath that color- looked a little hesitant.

"You're in the hospital," that explained the white and the smell, along with the pricking sensation that must be an I.V., the beeping sound that was probably a heart monitor and the mask, why was she wearing an oxygen mask? How bad was her condition? "Can you tell me what the last thing you remember is?" asked the woman, who Sel now realized must be a nurse, whose reassuring smile looked a tad forced. Sel closed her eyes and thought back; her dad had been praying- again. He was Japanese and very traditional, especially when it came to ancestors. She'd been reading in her room when she smelled the smoke. She'd run toward the source, the area the shrine was kept in. It looked like her dad had knocked over a candle; he was very klutzy so things like this happened on a regular basis. She'd run to get water, they'd forgotten to refill the emergency bucket after the last incident- both her and Dad where rather forgetful. By the time she'd made it back with water, the fire had reached the scrolls, despite her dad's efforts to stomp out the flames. Once it reached the paper, there was no stopping it. Their house had been a traditional Japanese make, lots of wood and paper, and fires spread fast. In the smoke, her and her dad had lost each other. She had frantically searched for him among the flames, their red-hot tongs leaping toward her greedily, devouring everything in sight. It had looked- and felt- like Hell. The smoke had filled her lungs, burning and dry. Finally she started to make her way out, maybe her dad had already made it out, but as she reached the exit, something hit her from behind, blazing hot as it pinned her and knocked her unconscious.

"The house was on fire… I got hit from behind and blacked out when I was escaping." Sel answered. That explained the oxygen mask; the smoke had most likely impaired her breathing. A thought occurred to Sel, her eyes widening. "Where's my dad? Is he OK? I couldn't find him!" she started to panic, looking toward the nurse for answers. However, the nurse didn't say a thing, merely looked at her with a stricken expression. Feeling fear curdle in the pit of her stomach, as cold as ice, she narrowed her eyes into a death glare. No worse then a death glare, it was a daughter-glare. "Where. Is. My. Dad." She asked slowly and clearly, in a voice that would strike fear into the devil himself. The nurse cowered a little, then answered, looking away.

"He… he didn't make it. They found his remains in the ashes. I'm sorry." Sel was shocked. Her dad, her wonderful amazing, klutzy, forgetful, traditional dad, was gone? Dead? Lost to her forever? Breaking down, she wept; bitter tears flooded her face, far to late to do any good.