It all started with a dream.

Actually, no, it all started when my boyfriend and I decided to revisit our old camp, the summer before we started college in California. Who am I? You may ask, well my name is Annabeth Chase, but right now, that's not important. What is important is how it started, how all of it started. If you've ever casually stumbled into any history book, or something, you'll notice something particularly interesting about them. Doesn't it always seem like things just... happen? They make everything seem so unprecedented, so abrupt. Like, Hitler just one day, casually decided to invade Poland, and then World War II just happened. That's always bothered me about stories, how they simplify the truth, make everything seem so much more one-sided. We look back on everything and decide that something must be determined as the beginning and something else must be the end, but in reality the lines are always blurred. When you've lived and seen the stuff I have, you learn that things don't simply happen, and nothing in this world is without reason. You also learn that beginnings are, more often than not, extremely crucial to the outcome of any situation.

So it started during the summer, or at least for the sake of simplicity, I'll say it started during the summer.

My boyfriend, Percy Jackson, had suggested we'd visit Camp Half-Blood, before we moved to San Fransisco. Camp Half-Blood was a special camp designed to be a safe haven for demigods (Yes you heard right, demigods, as in half-god half-mortal. I myself am a daughter of Athena, the goddess of wisdom, but again, we're getting side-tracked). I had met my best friend turned boyfriend there, and it was the one place I would always call home, unfortunately, I hadn't had much time to visit during the past year. The year itself had been hectic enough, without adding any sort of immortal beings to it, so, when Percy suggested we'd spend the summer there, naturally I agreed. It was supposed to be a normal summer, full of sword fighting, Capture the Flag games, and catching up with our old friends from the Argo II. It was our last chance to reminiscence the good times before starting off a new chapter in our lives, the perfect ending to our Senior year. So we packed our bags, said our goodbyes, and traded of New York City's sleepless skyline, for Long Island's green strawberry fields, and ocean-misted air.

Things were good, and for the most part of that summer our lives were fairly normal. Our days were spent hanging out by the lake, along side Piper and Jason, in the July sun; and our nights were spent underneath the stars, passing on stories and laughs to other campers. Once we were done, my boyfriend would start his eternal debate on why spending the night at the Poseidon cabin was so much better than spending the night at the Athena cabin. He almost always lost that argument, almost. Needless to say, everything was going great, and the stars seemed to had finally aligned themselves in our favor. Everything was the way we'd imagined it would be, until the dreams started.

The dreams had started off as nothing more than that, dreams. But, when you're a demigod, you quickly learn not to ignore dreams, no matter how silly they may seem. Most of the time, they can mean an array of things, some can be warnings, or messages from the gods. Others can be premonitions, or gospels. Either way, for demigods most dreams mean more than just some impression made up by our subconscious, specially when they're recurring. For me, they started during my last week at camp.

It was always the same dream, and it always started the same way. Somehow I knew I was never just an observer, but instead physically present in the dream. It started out with a small, dark hallway. A dim, orange glow came from the end of the corridor. I could hear the sound of people's voices coming from the same direction, but they were too faint for anyone to hear what was being said. I walked slowly through the shadowy aisle, trying to hear what was going on. There only seemed to be two speakers, one spoke a bit more loudly than the other, the voice was also a lot deeper than its counterpart. I assumed the two people were a man and a woman, probably a couple. They seemed to be arguing over something.

I walked closer, until I was about to reach the end of the hallways, when a small hand grabbed me by the wrist. I quickly turned around to see who the hand belonged to. A small girl stared at me wide-eyed, one finger placed over her lips in an universal Shhh, motion. I could barely make out her face in the darkness, but as the dim light reflected itself on to her face, I could distinguish some of her features. She seemed to be around 4, maybe 5 years old, dark blonde curls coiled themselves around her round face. She looked at me cautiously as she pulled me into a hidden room in the corridor. Her eyes caught my attention, large dark green orbs that moved around impatiently, as she fidgeted with a small golden chain around her neck.

"You almost got us caught, you can't let them see you!" She said in a small voice, avoiding eye-contact.
Outside the small room, murmurs filled the air.

"Who? Who can't see us?" I asked in a hushed tone as the girl peeked out the door.
She was adorable, the way every kid that age is adorable, but something about the way she gazed out the door seemed unsettling. The girl didn't answer any of my questions, she simply looked out at the empty hallway.

"They never fight, but something must've gotten to mom... Maybe it was the dishes, she hates it when we don't do the dishes..." The girl whispered absentmindedly in my direction, but she quickly turned back, focusing on the conversation. I decided to do the same, trying to drown out any sound, except for the couple's voices.

"We need to go. It isn't safe here anymore..." Said the deeper voice, the guy, I assumed.
He had a bit of a New York accent, that slipped in between the words. I wondered if maybe that's where we were.

"We can't, that'll only draw more suspicion to us, especially now!" Said the female voice, unlike the guy, she didn't have any distinctive accent.

"I know, I know, but we can't stay... We need to leave, I saw two officers tailing me to work yesterday. We can't risk it, you know what would happen if they found out what we are, who we are..." The guy mumbled, his voice trailing off.
He seemed to have been pacing around the room. There was a long pause before either one of them said anything else, maybe the girl was thinking about what to say.

One single thought roamed around my head, Who are these people, and why is someone targeting them? I thought about getting a closer look to see if I could recognize the couple, and listen in on their conversation better. Apparently the girl had the same idea, because she started opening the door slightly. Unfortunately a small creak escaped from the wood. The girl looked at me, mumbling a small Oops, before leaving the door alone. I silently prayed to the gods the people on the other side didn't hear us.

"We can't just drop everything and leave either! We've made a life here P—" The girl began to say, but cut herself short.

"I get that, but—"

"Shhh, someone's listening." She said quickly, cutting the guy off short.
I bit my lip and silently cursed, anyone can tell you that this would be your cue to run. Neither one of them said anything, the sound of footsteps became louder as we stood there hidden behind the small, wooden hatch.

"Helena!" The man shouted, his voice growing closer.

The last thing I saw was the door beginning to open slightly, before the dreamed changed.

I was immediately blinded by the bright, white light that contrasted with the hallway's darkness. I squinted my eyes a couple of times before they finally adjusted to the bright, mid-day light. In front of me was a house, not too big or small, but a modest size. It was an elegant building, with a small driveway that led to a small, white porch. Behind it, at a distance you could see the the ocean, and even further away you could see a a single mountain. It's snowy peak, protruding against the otherwise flat surface. My mind quickly narrowed down the list of places I could be at. The windy air blew in my direction, sending goosebumps all over my body. I was definitely somewhere north, and by the looks of it somewhere with a coast. I would've said the east coast, but the lack of rocketing buildings, seemed unconvincing. My safest bet would've been somewhere in northern California, maybe even further up. I shrugged off the cold as I walked closer to the front of the house.

Two single white columns decorated the front of the house, alongside a few bushes with silver flowers. Moon-lace?, I thought immediately upon closer seemed strange to me that anyone would have the plant simply lying around, much less enough of it to make a whole garden worth of it. I walked closer to the entrance of the house, two large wooden doors, slightly open contrasted against the dark blue exterior. Nice color scheme, I thought to myself as I examined my surroundings. I small, bronze plaque was situated on the wall besides the entrance. 5720 Overlook Ave NE Tacoma, WA, the plaque read, with a small insignia underneath it. What the hell am I doing in Washington?, I thought to myself. The symbol was small enough to go practically unnoticed unless you looked at it very closely, it was a small circle with an eagle enclosed in the middle, carrying a small olive branch. A type of cross, seemed to run straight through the animal, each end bulging out of corner's of the bird's wings. I racked my brain trying to figure out if I had seen anything like it before, but my mind was blank. Other than the strange emblem, the half-opened door, and the silver flowers, everything else about the scene reminded me of a typical suburban house. I took a deep breath before walking in.

The inside of the house was a complete disaster. You could tell it had once been in pristine conditions, but not anymore. Things everywhere had been ransacked, or taken apart. Where I guessed the living room was supposed to be, vases and frames had been torn apart, along side a couch, whose pillow seemed to be covered in small, bullet like holes. It was more than obvious that someone had attacked this place, in fact, it looked like an entire damn S.W.A.T. team had invaded, and taken it upon themselves to use the house as an artillery. A couple of slashes covered different part of the house, like a sword fight gone wrong. Other areas of the house seemed singed, small flames still burning a bright green in the places they had originally been lit, filling the ir with the smell of sulfur. Greek fire, I thought, but remained as quietly as possible. I wondered why demigods would attack the house in the first place. I looked around and saw a small photograph laying on the floor. I assumed it must've belonged to the owners of the house, so I decided to pick it up. I tried to make out the faces of the people in the picture, but unfortunately it'd been burned beyond recognition. I decided to drop it, and continue exploring the house.

At the end of the room, two glass doors had been broken. Shattered glass laid all over the floor, alongside a few droplets of blood. Someone had been wounded in the fight, I rushed over to the door and carefully made my way through the broken door. A thick, red trail led to the backyard of the house, worry overcame my senses. Who'd ever been hurt in this fight had lost a lot of blood, judging by the large crimson stains that covered the ground. The air around me seemed to suddenly turn heavy as I made my way into the grassy terrain overlooking the sea. My lungs felt as if they would colapse from lack of air, even though I was standing outside. I felt a sharp pain in my left side, right across my ribcage. I fell to the ground, gasping for air, as I clutched my stomach, pain blinding my vision. I felt someone stand before me, but I couldn't see who it was. My lungs burned due to the lack of oxygen and I could feel my pulse begin to slow, trying to make up for the lack of air. As far as I could tell, I hadn't been hit, but the pain felt a lot like the time I'd taken a knife during the Battle of Manhattan.

"Len, Chuck, come quick!" A voice spoke from a few feet away.
The girl's call was quickly followed by a couple of footsteps.

"Cass, we don't have time for this! You heard what mom said, we need to get out of here! They'll be back any time now, get your stuff and let's go!" Said another girl, her voice a little huskier than the first one, she sounded older.

"I think you guys wanna see this..." The first girl spoke, there was a hint of amazement in her voice.
I clenched my knuckles as a sharp cry escaped my lips, something had started to stain my shirt but my vision was too hazy to distinguish what it was.

"Kassandra, what the hell are you doi— Shit... Len get over here!" A male voice shouted, worriedly.

More footsteps

"What are you two going on about, we need to—" The older girl was cut off by a gasp, her own.
Judging by how the other two had reffered to her, Len seemed to be the oldest. I felt someone quickly crouch down besides me and put an arm on my shoulder. Her hand was warm against my skin, sending goosebumps all over my body.

"You.. you shouldn't be here, you shouldn't be here!" She said in a shaky voice.

"You know her? Who is she?" The other girl demanded, but Len silenced her.

I could feel myself drifting away from the lack of air. I opened my eyes and stared at the girl above me. Her hair reached her mid back, and she seemed to be around my age. She definitely looked different, she was obviously older, but her eyes gave it away. Her green eyes wore the same wide-eyed expression, I had seen only moments before. I knew who she was.

Helena.

I woke up in a sweat, a cry stuck in my dry throat. I looked around bewilderedly, and realized I was in my cabin. I small sigh of relieved escaped my lips, as I was the first signs of the sun creep in through the window. I settled my breathing, before laying back down in my own bed. Pushing the sweat covered curls off of my face, I began to close my eyes, trying to clear my mind. A million questions swirled around my head as I tried to make sense of what I had just seen. Who was that girl? What had happened to that house? To those kids?, I stared at the celling, a sense of dread settling itself in the pits of my stomach. Needless to say, I tried falling back asleep without much success.