A/N: Hope y'all like this story, because I'm planning on making it pretty long. Cami's face-claim is Brenna D'Amico.
Disclaimer: I don't own PJO/HoO. Last time I checked, Rick Riordan does. I only own my OC.
WARNING: Do not read if you are a Caleo shipper!
Mom always said I was different, though she never explained why. I figured it had something to do with my birth father, why she never talked about him or told me who he was. "Your father loved you very much, Cami," Mom would say. "He just had to go."
For years this angered me, why my father left for no reason, why he didn't want to stick around a little while longer to get to know me. But slowly the anger would start to fade as I focused more on school and track. And then my senses awakened when I read Percy Jackson. When he'd said in the book to put the book down if you could relate to him because he was a half-blood, I felt guilty. I did feel the same way as him. I'm a quick reader, so I finished all twelve books in one month. When I finished the last one, I felt nauseous. I began to have dreams about Half-Blood Hill from the books. Memories flooded back about my dad. Mom told me I was only a month old when he left, but I remembered being cradled in his arms and his warm smile as he gazed down at his newborn daughter. It scared me so much, I poured it all out to Mom one night. When I finished, she looked like I started growing another set of arms.
"Cami," she said in a nervous tone. That scared me even more. "These dreams, the memories of your father—it's all real."
I stared at her. What did she just say? Did she mean—
"Are you saying I'm a half-blood?" I asked. It was more of a squeak.
Mom looked up at the ceiling. "It wasn't supposed to be this way," she muttered to herself. "You weren't supposed to find out... I need to contact Chiron."
"Contact who now?" I asked. But Mom didn't answer. She walked out of the room in silence.
I woke up to Mom shaking me. "Cami," she whispered quickly. "Wake up. It's 9:30."
I groaned. It wasn't unusual for me to sleep in. But it was unusual that Mom was treating it like an emergency. "Get dressed," she ordered. "Pack up. I have breakfast waiting for you. He should be here any minute."
"Who?" I asked. I hoped she meant my dad.
I got dressed in under three minutes, which is a new record for me. I quickly threw on a pale yellow T-shirt and jean shorts. I packed my backpack with another shirt, shorts, sketch book, and a few personal belongings.
I walked into the kitchen and ate a quick breakfast of eggs and a bagel. Then I waited. Mom seemed really jumpy until there was a knock at the door. She took a deep breath and opened it.
I thought for sure I was hallucinating. Standing in the doorway, was a centaur. From the waist up he was a middle aged man with brown curly hair and a brown beard. And from the waist down he was a white stallion.
"Are you real?" I asked stupidly.
The centaur smiled kindly. "Yes, child. My name is Chiron. I am here to take you to camp."
"What?" I looked at Mom for support but got none. "Go with him, Cami," Mom said, looking straight right into my eyes, which wasn't hard because we're both five foot three. "This is for your own safety. I can't protect you much longer. The sooner you get to camp, the better."
I still had no idea what she was talking about, but nodded anyway. Mom pulled me into a hug and kissed my cheek. She was crying. "I love you, Cami," she whispered in my ear.
"I love you, too," I said. Mom let go and smiled. "Off you go," she said.
Chiron loaded me on his back and smiled at Mom. "Didn't worry, Camilla," he said, "we'll keep Cami safe."
Mom gave us one last smile, and closed the door. Chiron started clopping down the street towards the neighborhood entrance. "So..." I said. "Were exactly are we going?"
"Camp Half-Blood," Chiron answered.
"So I am a half-blood," I said.
"Yes," Chiron replied, "though obviously you haven't been claimed by your godly parent yet."
"You look like the Chiron from my Percy Jackson books," I noted. "How are you even real? I mean, Percy Jackson is just a made up story for entertainment. There's not even evidence of Greek gods, or demigods, or monsters, or even Mist."
"You just answered your own question," Chiron said. "Mortals can't see through the Mist, so it would be impossible for them to have found evidence of the, ah, Greek goings on."
"But you're from a book," I insisted. "There's no possible way you could be real!"
"Nothing is impossible, my dear," Chiron said.
My brain was buzzing with everything he just said. I'm a half blood. Camp Half-Blood is real. Monsters are real. The Greek gods are alive. I had barely any time to ponder this, though, because as soon as we exited my neighborhood, Chiron galloped at full speed across the street. Immediately, time and space seemed to be crunching. I felt a little bit of pressure, then we emerged from our space-travel onto a dirt road. We seemed to be in upstate New York, with mountains in the background and a hill topped with a healthy pine tree in front of us. To the right of the pine tree, sat an enormous three story house. It was painted sky blue with a white roof and a rap-around porch. Chiron trotted towards it. We almost reached the porch steps when I saw a figure standing on the porch waiting for us. He looked about eighteen with unruly black hair and sea green eyes. He wore jeans and an orange T-shirt with CAMP HALF-BLOOD printed on the front in black. Before I even met him, I knew who he was.
Percy Jackson.
I couldn't decide what was more weird. The fact that I had ridden a centaur from Texas to New York in under two minutes, the fact that I was a half-blood and my dad was a god, or that the main character from my favorite book series was standing directly in front of me, smiling.
"Hey," Percy said with a friendly grin.
"Hello," I answered numbly. This was impossible.
"Ah, Percy," Chiron said, walking up the porch steps, "meet our new attendant, Cami."
"Welcome to Camp Half-Blood." Percy stuck out his hand.
"Thanks," I said, shaking his hand. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, "How are you alive? How is this real? What's happening?!"
Chiron and Percy regarded me calmly. "Well," Percy said, "you could start with the fact that those books are all fake..."
"The author of those Percy Jackson and Heroes of Olympus books, Rick Riordan, is a half-blood," Chiron explained. "He is a son of Apollo. He was so fascinated with Camp Half-Blood that he wanted to write books about it to share with the mortals. The gods approved only if he twisted the events that happened and proclaimed them to be fake.
"He did this all to protect us and bring entertainment to the mortals at the same time. It was especially daring of him to write the last five books from the Seven's diaries."
Percy scoffed indignantly.
"Anyway, this is how Olympus is still real," Chiron finished.
I must've looked very shocked, because both Chiron and Percy looked at me with amusement.
"You should probably meet Mr. D now," Percy said.
Mr. D was sitting at a small wooden table at the back of the porch reading some kind of wine magazine. He was fat with curly black hair and a curly black beard. He was wearing a leopard print Hawaiian shirt with a purple undershirt, Bermuda shorts, and red Nikes. He looked up when he heard us approaching with a bored expression. "Oh, another camper to feed and look after. Hurray."
"Mr. D, this is Camilla Brooks," Chiron said. I winced when he said my full name.
"Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, have fun, blah blah blah," Mr. D responded. Percy rolled his eyes.
"Nice to meet you, too," I mumbled. Mr. D didn't notice. He was too interested in his magazine.
"Anyway, Percy, why don't you show Cami around, introduce her to Annabeth and Tyson and all your other friends," Chiron said.
"Ok," Percy agreed. "Follow me."