Chapter One: And So It Begins
Melody Tolin was a misfit among misfits.
She knew it was common for demigods to have trouble fitting in with ordinary mortals, but she... she didn't fit in among half-bloods, either. A misfit among misfits.
For years, oh, so many years, she had stayed home, with her father, her stepmother, her half-sister. Her family.
Those days were over.
Now, there was only survival and training.
That was why she was crouched in the branches of an ancient tree, with a hand-made arrow nocked in a hand-made longbow, aiming carefully at the minotaur's jugular.
She let the arrow fly.
It swooshed harmlessly past the monster.
Melody silently cursed in Latin. Archery wasn't her strong point.
And to make matters worse, now the minotaur knew she was there.
The monster whirled around, snorting, and tried to find the source of the failed attack. Melody sat perfectly still, hoping that the cow's terrible eyesight would save her.
Unfortunately for her, it began sniffing the air. She knew she couldn't hide her scent.
Oh well, she thought, might as well get this over with. Don't want the cow getting any kind of advantage.
So she jumped down from the tree, landing gracefully in a crouch. Her bow fell to the ground beside her as she pulled a small ring from her finger. As she pressed the speckled green stone embedded in the band of celestial bronze, there was an audible snap! and the ring straightened into an olive wood quarterstaff.
The minotaur snorted at her and stamped, preparing to charge.
Melody smirked and waited.
The huge monster let out a bellow and galloped toward her, lowering its head.
Melody jerked the staff, and a long, glowing blade of celestial bronze slid out of one end. A quick shake, and the soft click of the locking mechanism reached her ears. She planted the other end of the staff against the trunk of the tree behind her.
The minotaur didn't have time to slow down; its considerable momentum carried it halfway down the olive shaft of the trick weapon. The blood-painted blade protruded from the monster's back. The creature bellowed in pain and slumped over, pulling the staff down, along with Melody, who couldn't even imagine supporting the behemoth's alarming bulk. She tugged at her weapon, finally pulling it free with a burst of monster dust.
"And that, kids," she remarked to the minotaur's hate-filled eyes, "is why we don't eat innocent people. Especially not when I'm around."
The minotaur dissolved into dust.
Melody retrieved her bow, turned her staff back into a ring, and walked calmly away.
- Late that night, Melody stood in a graveyard. Not because she knew anyone who was buried there, but just to pay her respects to the dead in general.
After all, she would be among them someday. She had nearly joined them many times already.
Her arms were filled with fresh marigolds, and she placed them at the headstones, one for each person.
Suddenly a voice spoke from the shadows of the mausoleum.
"You make them confused, you know."
Melody whirled around to face the speaker. He was in his early teens, and thin, with silky black hair, dark eyes, and pale olive skin. A black sword hung at his side, and a silver skull ring flashed in the moonlight as he gestured at the graves and continued speaking.
"They don't understand why a stranger would be so kind to them. After all, they're dead, and you never knew them." He smiled. They're confused - but happy."
Melody said nothing. She just continued placing marigolds on the graves.
"Why do you do it?" the boy asked. "I'm a bit baffled myself. What is it that makes you so respectful of the dead?"
Melody gritted her teeth. "That's none of your damn business."
The boy in the shadows looked at Melody in silence, trying to assess her. She had shoulder-length black hair, raggedly cut and covering one eye, and she wore all black clothes. Ratty black t-shirt, frayed charcoal shorts, dark leggings that had seen better days, fingerless black gloves with metal plates riveted to the backs, even a pair of black combat boots. A small ring glowed softly on the middle finger of her right hand. Her skin was lightly tanned, amd her one visible eye was a brilliant aquamarine. Her arms were covered in small scars, but they didn't look self-inflicted. She was leanly muscled, not bulky like a body builder, but not weak, either. She was a bit on the short side, but somehow, that didn't make her any less intimidating.
Melody looked up sharply. "Could you please stop staring?" she snapped at the strange boy.
His reply was strangely calm. "Could you please answer my question? Why do you care so much about dead strangers?"
Melody snarled in clear annoyance.
The boy sighed. "Look, I'm not trying to upset you. I'm just curious."
"Well, go away. Interrogate someone else."
"Alright. I'm sorry I upset you."
When she looked up again, he was gone.