[Author's Note] So here's the first official chapter. I've decided this story is going to take place after The Last Olympian, but it's going to ignore The Lost Hero and all of the books after that.

Enjoy!


I leave the house around midnight and make my way to the cemetery to visit my mother's grave.

I've found myself there more times than I can count in the last three years since she died. Yet every time I go, I feel like I'm eleven years old again. Walking along the worn dirt paths, I glance around at the various graves as I make my way to hers.

She wasn't supposed to die. Thirty-eight is too young to lose your life and leave your children behind.

When I reach her burial spot, I kneel down in front of the headstone and trace her name: Claudia Elisabeth Faber

"Melanie left me." I say sadly, "Now I really am alone."

A nighttime breeze blows my hair back from my face. "It's funny though, I feel like you would know why she left. I bet you knew why all this weird stuff happens to me. I mean, you were my mom. Mom's always know that kind of thing, right?"

I hear nothing but the sound of my own heartbeat.

"I just wish you could help me." I mumble, standing up and brushing the dirt from my knees before turning and walking away.

It's as I'm passing the Elliot family memorial that I catch sight of a person near the center of the graveyard. Surprised that I'm not alone in the cemetery at this hour, I tip-toe closer to the figure.

Based on what I can make out in the dark, I'm almost certain the individual is a young man, possibly a teenager. But I can't be sure in this light.

Lost in my thoughts, it's not until I'm a few headstones away that I notice something strange is taking place.

My mouth drops open in surprise and I pinch myself, positive I'm dreaming. This guy or girl, or whoever they may be, is talking to a ghost.

Last time I checked, ghosts didn't exist. Especially ghosts who can talk.

Snippets of the conversation reach my ears but I can make no sense of it.

"Percy said she lives somewhere around here…"

"…need to find…"

I know…the prophecy said…"

Unable to comprehend the sight before me, I begin to tip-toe backwards, hoping to get away as quickly as possible.

As I can't see where I'm going, I end up tripping and falling to the ground. Feeling like my heart is about to beat out of my chest, I roll behind the nearest headstone and squeeze my eyes shut, praying that my tumble went unnoticed.

I realize I'm out of luck when I can no longer hear a conversation.

Keeping my eyes closed, I take a few deep breaths and prepare myself to get up and run as far away from the cemetery as my legs will take me. After a few moments, I open my eyes. When the world finally comes back into focus, I let out a surprised shriek.

There's a pair of curious brown eyes staring at me. I stare into them, momentarily dazed until my senses kick in. Leaping up and away from the boy crouched in front of me, I turn and sprint towards the cemetery entrance.

"Hey wait, stop!" He shouts. Definitely a teenager, I conclude, keeping my eyes focused on the rusted iron gates.

"I'm not going to hurt you!" His voice is closer now and I can hear his footsteps pounding behind me. Before I'm able to increase my speed, an icy hand grabs onto my wrist and we both come to a skidding halt. Although I pull and tug with all my strength, I can't wrench my arm away. Defeated, I stop struggling and turn to face my captor.

His expression is unreadable which honestly scares me a bit.

"Are you done?" he asks quietly.

I glance down at his hand which still has my arm in a vice-like grip.

"If I let go, do you promise not to run away?"

I nod, choosing to stare at my feet instead of his face.

He releases my arm and there's a few seconds of tense silence as he waits to see if I'll try to escape. When I don't, he sighs in relief. "What are you doing out in a graveyard in the middle of the night?" he asks and I finally lift my head and look at him.

"Visiting my mom's grave. What about you?" I manage to squeak out.

He sticks his hands into his pockets and contemplates his answer, "Depends on how much you saw."

"You were talking to a ghost." I state bluntly while trying to determine his age in the moonlight. While he's a good four or five inches taller than me, he can't be much older.

He nods. "So you can see through the mist."

I tuck a long lock of hair behind me ear, "The what?"

"The…" he looks around, "Do you have a house we can go back to or something. I think there's a lot I need to explain."

"I do." I answer, thinking that I can scream for help or run to the neighbors if this guy turns out to be dangerous in any way.

He taps his foot, looking slightly weary, "Do you live with anyone? Siblings or a father maybe?"

I shake my head sadly, thinking of my runaway sister. "No, it's just me."

"Okay, lead the way."

Nodding my head, I turn and start walking, bewildered by how unsurprised he is that I live alone.

We amble along the road to my house quietly until he breaks the silence with a question.

"What's your name?"

I stare straight ahead, watching as my house grows larger in the distance. "Leila Faber."

It's when we reach my front door that I realize I should ask for his name too. But when I look over at him, he looks so anxious and tense standing on the porch that I figure it can wait until we're inside the house.

So I let him in.


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