A/N: Here's part two!
A/N: Alabaster's POV.
Alabaster was dreaming. Normally, this wouldn't be strange, especially for demigods, but the only dreams Alabaster got anymore were from his mother, which were rare anyway. But this... This was different. He was floating in a black void, nothing around for miles and miles. Or maybe he was in some dark container. Did I die?, Alabaster wondered, not the least bit surprised at the idea.
"No boy, you are not dead.", a voice boomed around Alabaster, as if it could read his thoughts. Alabaster wanted to call out, but he couldn't. His whole body was frozen with fear. But who did he fear? There was nothing, nothing except- the voice! Somehow, Alabaster knew to be afraid of the voice.
"No boy, you are not dead... Not yet...", the voice added as a huge hand the size of tractor trailer reached out for Alabaster, snapping shut around him. Images flashed in Alabaster's mind, some going too fast to see, others staying for a few seconds. One image stayed longer, and Alabaster was able to recognize it. Camp Half-Blood...
"... Al... Al... Al!", a voice repeated over and over until Alabaster finally woke up to find himself being shaken to death by Claymore, who was yelling curses at him.
"I'm awake!", Alabaster yelled back, pushing Claymore away.
"About damn time! I thought...", Claymore trailed off as he sat back on his haunches.
"Thought what?", Alabaster asked.
"Nothing, it was nothing.", Claymore muttered with a shake of his head, then added, "What happened? Where's the girl?"
The memories from a few moments ago hit Alabaster like knocked
"We were talking and she got upset... And she zapped me.", Alabaster said, rubbing his chest. His magic must have protected him from most of the attack, but it still slammed him back into the counter.
"Zapped you?", Claymore questioned, raising an eyebrow. Alabaster was tempted to roll his eyes, but stood up instead, rubbing his sore spots and brushing himself off.
"I think I know why my mother lead us to her. This girl, she's a child of Zeus."
A/N: Timeskip and in Camilla's POV.
So this is what I look like?, Camilla thought as she looked in the reflection of an old, full length mirror she found in the old clothing store she was taking shelter in. She was obviously Latino, either Spanish or Mexican, by the dark tan tone of her skin and her hair's coarseness. Though that might have been because it was filthy. Her hair itself was crimson red like blood, falling in thick waves down to her middle back. Camilla's eyes were sky blue, standing out on her dark features like a white dot surrounded by a sea of black. She looked closely at her figure, smiling in slight satisfaction when she saw she was in a good physical condition. I look like an adult, but I feel like a kid... Maybe I'm 18?, Camilla wondered, getting the feeling she was right. She had fled from the gas station after she put out the fires with an extinguisher, heading down the road for a half hour until she found an abandoned strip mall. The whole town was abandoned, except for a few homeless people, which was a little strange to Camilla. Maybe those Cyclopes- No. Those weren't real. They were a hallucination, that's all, Camilla thought, rubbing the bandage Alabaster and Claymore had wrapped around her head. But if they weren't real, then how did I get this?, she thought. Deciding to distract herself away from the situation at hand, Camilla went to look for some new clothes. Her current ones were torn and worn, and not in the good way. After a bit of searching, Camilla managed to find a black t-shirt that said, Od hawt ouy voel. Which of course made no sense to Camilla at all. Looking around, she realized she couldn't read anything. If she focused hard enough, some of the words made sense, but soon fell apart for her. I must have some sort of reading disability, Camilla realized. Going back to her search, Camilla found a pair of jeans that were a little too big, but made do with a belt she found. She even found an old gray baseball hat, which would help with the hot sun beating down on her. After changing into her new clothes, Camilla went to throw away her old ones, pausing as she looked at her old shirt. Now that she could see it properly, Camilla realized there was a smaller print underneath the main words, a print she could actually read. It said Camp Half-Blood. A memory hit Camilla, making her stagger back in shock. She saw a camp, with children running around while older kids climbed a lava wall, road winged horses, and trained with bows and arrows, swords, and axes. When the memory finally faded, Camilla found herself sitting on the ground, shaking. She couldn't think straight, too shaken up to form rational thoughts. The memory brought something else: a location and a name.
"Camp Half-Blood...", Camilla mumbled under her breath.
"Ah, so you finally remembered. About time, dearie.", a man's voice said in a slight British accent from behind Camilla, making her jump up and whirl around. There, standing only a few feet away from Camilla, was the hottest man Camilla had ever seen. Which actually wasn't saying much since she could only remember a few men. He was tan, like an Italian, but with the hair of a classic American. His features were chiseled and muscular, something his tight gray shirt and black skinny jeans showed off. But the most noticeable feature about him were his eyes. They were a kaleidoscope of colors, changing over and over again.
"Sleep now, dearie.", the man said, blowing a kiss towards Camilla, who collapsed to the floor, unconscious.
A/N: Ooh! Things are heating up!
