Disclaimer: This thing applies to the WHOLE story since I am way too lazy to type it every single time a write a chapter. I do not own the PJO franchise nor am I affiliated with it.

Sixteen year old Emma looked forlornly out of her window. It was yet again another rainy day in the city. The grey overcast made everything look grey and depressing. The soft sound when the drops hit were slowly driving her insane.

Sighing, Emma wrapped the blanket tighter around her and slowly slipped her hot chocolate. Her homework was scattered haphazardly on her desk and most of it was half finished. Her glasses was laid to the side and another cup of hot chocolate was laid beside it (she was quite fond of the drink). Leftovers from last night were on her night side table.

Her room was illuminated with a soft, yellow light. It gave a warm and cozy feeling to it. Watercolor paintings of various attractions gave vibrant colors to the dark wall of the room. The left side of her room was dominated by bookshelves filled to the brim of every adventure-type book possible. Many of them were from other countries and in exotic languages. The right wall, where her desk was, had maps and charts of the world.

The maps themselves were old and were starting to yellow and curl at the edges. She got them from her grandfather as an inheritance. They were decorated with colorful pushpins with lines connecting them; a world trip that one day she wishes to embark on. They would first travel to Florida where they would then take boats to the Caribbean Islands, and then they would go to Mexico and make their way down south to the Latin American countries…

She heard a sudden knock on the door and snapped her from her daydreaming. It was most likely her dad; he forgot the keys again and couldn't open the door himself. Emma grabbed her glasses and went towards the front and opened it.

"Thank you Emma," her grandpa said. His work uniform was soaked through with water and was dripping all over the place. His grey hair was plastered to his scalp and droplets of rain stained his glasses. "I'm afraid that I forgot to bring my umbrella today…"

Emma smiled. "Don't worry about it grandpa. How was work today?"

He hung his coat and hat on the rack and sat down on the couch. "It was wonderful as always. A group of school children came in today and were quite curious about the exhibits. There was this young boy; I think his name was James, kept asking me questions about them," he chuckled.

Emma laughed. "It does sound like a wonderful day. Anyway, there are some leftover's from last night. I already ate some so you don't need to worry about me."

"Ah, thank you Emma." Her grandpa left the couch and went to the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea, like he always does on a normal day. "How was school Emma? Are you doing well?"

No. "Yes."

Her granddad raised an eyebrow. "You're lying aren't you? You were never good it in the first place. What happened?"

Emma sighed. "I don't understand what I'm supposed to be learning, especially in Algebra II. Most of the stuff isn't applicable to the real world!" She threw her hands up in frustration.

"You should still try, that's all it takes." He poured the boiling water into the cup. "Just because you don't like it doesn't mean you shouldn't try. Did Raleigh give up when he couldn't find gold? No! And you shouldn't either."

"Grandpa, Raleigh died broke and both of the colonies he established were failures."

He waved her statement away. "You know what I was trying to say Emma. I want you to try harder, okay? How else are we going to afford the trip? A miracle doesn't happen often, nor should it."

"All right, I promise dad," Emma grumbled. They were saving up for a trip around the world and they only needed a couple more hundred dollars to go.

Her dad gently smiled. "That's my girl. Now go to your room, I know you didn't do your homework."

Emma sighed in exasperation, but said nothing. She simply left the living room and went inside her room. The lock clicked into place and she didn't go out for the rest of the night.

The girl woke up to her alarm clock ringing and groaned. The sunlight was like daggers to her eyes, blinding her. Emma tiredly rubber her eyes and stumbled out from her small bed. She went outside of her room and opened the door to the bathroom and did her usual routine. Rinse, brush, spit, and repeat.

She went back to her room and put on her clothes; a plain blue shirt with shorts. Emma tied back her dark brown hair back into a bun and grabbed her glasses from the night stand. She put her books hastily in her backpack and went down stairs where she made herself breakfast.

On the kitchen table, there was a little box with a tag written with a happy birthday message (along with the keys that he forgot again). Emma completely forgot that it really was her birthday today, October 17th. She tore off the bright red wrapping paper and opened up the lid. It was a copy of War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy.

Emma smiled as she picked it up and held it close to her chest, breathing in that old-book smell. She opened to the front page and found a handwritten note from her grandfather.

Emma,

I wish you a happy birthday dear. I may be old but not old enough to forget my own granddaughter's birthday. You've been talking about this book for the past year and I finally got it at our local Barnes and Noble. Don't worry about the cost Emma. Your happiness is more than enough to pay me back.

Your parents would be proud of what you become and I'm sure they're watching over you right now. You turn seventeen today if I remember correctly… I have something else to give to you when I get home from the museum. Until then, I wish you a good day at school and stay safe.

Love,

Grandpa

She tucked the note away and carefully put the book into her backpack. "Oh, grandpa… you didn't need to do this," she said to herself. Although, I wonder what he wanted to tell me. Guess I'll have to wait until the afternoon.

She threw the wrapping paper away and went towards the front door. She tied her blue running shoes and started towards school, locking the door behind her.

…

"Miss Emerson!" her teacher snapped. "Are you paying attention to anything that I just said?"

Emma could hear snickers from the back of the class, including from her best friends Taylor and Michael. Traitors.

"Uh…"She really was not paying attention to what exactly Mrs. Thompson said. At some point she lost interest in whatever she was talking about and dozed off to Dreamland.

Her eyes were features were like a hawk's, grey narrowed eyes and a sharp nose. "I'm waiting for your answer Miss Emerson," Mrs. Thompson said.

"Something about postulates and theorems?" Emma said with a nervous smile on her face. She immediately dropped it when she saw her teacher's disapproving frown.

Mrs. Thompson pinched her nose. "Another disappointing answer from you Miss Emerson, I really hoped that you would clean up your act after you got a D on the last test. I was talking about-"

The bell rang and the students quickly packed up their stuff and filed off to their next classes. Taylor waved goodbye and mouthed "See you during lunch" as did Michael. Emma was about to leave with them when she felt Mrs. Thompson's hand touch her shoulder.

"Miss Emerson," she sternly said. "Before you leave, I would like to say something to you."

"What is it that you want to talk about?" Emma guessed that she was going to preach about the virtues of "responsibility" and "hard working-ness (was that even a word?)."

"Emma," her teacher said. The girl was slightly surprised at the use of her first name by Mrs. Thompson. Rarely did she refer to a student by their first names. "As a teacher, I expect the very best from my students, including you. I know that Algebra II class isn't your favorite subject…"

Wonder how she picked that up?

"I still expect to see effort. You don't even try on your homework assignments and you certainly don't even try on your assessments," Mrs. Thompson snorted.

"But-" Emma interjected.

"No but's young lady!" she snapped. "You're a junior in high school. You shouldn't be slacking off on any work whatsoever. Only one more year and then you're off to college – do you think any of our nation's most prestigious universities will accept you?" Her face softened and she lowered her voice. "Emma, I care about you. I care about all of my students. I just want you to be successful."

Emma couldn't help but feel touched by this statement, but she said nothing. She didn't know exactly how to respond to that. After a few seconds, she sprouted out. "Oh, okay."

Mrs. Thompson smiled - a rare occurrence. "I'm glad you understand Emma." And then, her face hardened up again. "Now get to class! You're 10 minutes late!"

…

Emma was completely drained of energy by the time school ended. Her back ached from the weight of her backpack and her feet were sore from the one-mile run she ran (a four second improvement from the last time she did it - not very impressive since it took her just under 13 minutes).

It was Friday, so her friends Michael and Taylor are staying after school – which also meant no one was there to help her carry her books. They said that they were preparing for a "surprise" for her and they would give it to her on the day after her birthday. Knowing them, it would probably be something totally outrageous.

At last, she finally arrived at her apartment, or at least the building that had it. Emma would have to go up three flights of stairs since the elevator was broken. She unlocked the door, stepped into her department, and turned on the lights.

Emma heaved her backpack onto the couch and collapsed on it. Her grandpa wouldn't be home for another three hours. Until then she had to do her homework. She began her history homework first since it was the easiest, and then moved on to English, another history assignment, and then finally the dreaded Algebra II assignment… Nevertheless she finished it all in two hours leaving her some "me" time.

Emma cracked her fingers and put the binders and folders away. Rubbing her eyes, she went into the kitchen and began preparing hot chocolate for herself. When it was done, Emma went insider her room where she began reading, rather vehemently, War and Peace. She was already nearing the 100th page when the doorbell rang.

Excitedly, Emma ran towards the door and flung it open. Her grandfather was at the door, of course. He had a long and black suitcase tucked under his right arm. "Emma dear, would you mind holding this for me?" He pointed at the suitcase. "I'm afraid that my strength isn't what it used to be."

Emma gently got the suitcase under his arm her arms gave out because of the surprising weight. Geez, how heavy could this be? Or maybe it's because I don't have any arm muscles? She dropped the suit case unceremoniously onto the coffee table, which earned a disapproving frown from her grandpa.

"Now, now Emma," he said. "You don't just drop a weapon like that."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "There's a weapon in there grandpa? Surely you're kidding right? Where would you even get one?"

Her grandpa ignored her questions. "It's a sword, a rapier more specifically. It belonged to me when I was younger and kept it in a safe place. It was given to me by your mother."

This only piqued Emma's interest even more. She never really knew her mother nor her father. She faintly remembered her mom as a woman with a rainbow aura if that made any sense. Her grandpa still kept pictures of dad around the house and Emma thought she looked like the girl version of him – wavy brown hair and curious blue eyes.

He opened the box to reveal, indeed, a rapier. The metal had a brilliant luster as if it was forged yesterday. The guard was intricate with elegant loops and swirls surrounding the handle. The pommel was attached to it for balance. The blade was long and thin topped with a sharp tip. It was simple and practical. This sword was not meant for display, it was meant for fighting.

"Um, ah…" Emma didn't know what to say. Was this what her grandpa wanted to tell her? Or show her?

"Its name is Ciel," he grandpa continued. "Meaning-"

"Rainbow in French," Emma finished. She took French for six years and knew how to speak it fluently thanks to the help of various French authors and her grandpa.

"Very good Emma," her grandpa said. "There's a reason I'm showing you this. You turned 16 today, an age in some cultures where you are considered to be 'all grown up.' It's time, my dear, where I reveal the truth about your parents."

Emma furrowed her eyebrows. "My parents? Didn't my mom disappear and my dad died of an animal attack?" She definitely knew that her dad died that way. She remembered her grandpa saying that he was in a "better place now" – which basically meant he was in Heaven or wherever souls go when they die. There were newspaper articles written about it, heck she had some of them. Emma didn't understand what the "truth" about her parents was.

"So it seems. But that is not the case." her grandfather murmured. "I'll speak plainly Emma; your mother is a Greek goddess, Iris to be more specific. Your father died in a monster attack with this in his hands. Iris took the rapier and gave it to me to give it to you."

Emma's face contorted. At first, it seemed like she was about to yell at him, but then she smiled – and busted out laughing. "Haha, grandpa!" She wiped tears from her eyes and her cheeks were a bright red. "Gosh, I never knew you were this good at lying. How could you all of that with a straight face?"

While Emma's expression was one of pure glee, her grandfather's expression was one of dead seriousness. He grabbed his granddaughter's shoulders and made her face him. "Emma," he said sternly. "Please listen to me. All of things I just told you are true. This is all for your own safety."

"Safety? Safety from what? My life isn't particularly threated right now." She pushed up her glasses to get a better look. Her finally laughter died down, but her cheeks were still red.

"The monsters. You might now see them, but they are out there. This sword, Ciel, is meant for fighting them off Emma. You're a demigod, a daughter of Iris. Luckily, your mother was a minor goddess and you don't attract as many as you would if you were the child of the twelve Olympian gods. But the threat is very much real. If you could make it to the end of the school year, I'm driving you to Long Island. There, you'll be safe." He was breathing hard from the sheer effort it took to explain all of that and sat down on the couch, dabbing his face with a napkin from his pocket.

"…So it true then?" Emma hesitantly asked. She gently sat down next to him. "I really am a demigod?"

"Yes, yes." Her grandpa sighed, exasperated because of her. "I waited until you were sixteen; an age I thought would be the right one to tell you. Not quite a child that wouldn't take it seriously and not quite an adult who has no imagination."

"Oh, I see," was all that the girl could muster. And the rest of the night was spent in peace, without a single mention of gods, monsters, and demigods.

Thus, Emma's adventure begins…

I didn't want to make this a typical and clichéd story like 99.99% of them are – God knows that we already have enough. I hope you found Emma enjoyable and realistic, just like every OC should be.

As stated in the summary, everything is canon. Percy Jackson is still the main hero and Kronus is the main antagonist. I will be covering every book in the PJatO series in this story, but there will be time skips to speed things up.

I have no idea when I'm going to update.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.