Chapter 1: New Life, New Me

When I came to it was the sight of the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. It was a shame that she was looking back at me with undisguised disgust.

It wasn't the first time I'd seen such an expression from a beautiful woman directed at me. It was the first time that the said beautiful woman had just given birth to me.

"You can understand me can't you?" She said, and although it was phrased as a question, a sixth sense as it were, told me it was anything but. Her voice was hauntingly supernatural in its beauty. In a language that sounded ancient and dignified in a way that's hard to put words to.

This was weird. Really weird.

"It doesn't matter. Your kind aren't so weak that you'd die without care. The blood of Poseidon is more than enough to ensure that. My own lineage isn't to be scoffed at either. I suspect that you'll be a strong one. Once you're all grown you'll kill many demigods I'm sure."

I was so confused. Demigods? Poseidon? What was she rambling about? Questions I didn't have time to ask myself as the next thing I knew I was floating.

"I suppose I should name you before I send you off. Hmmm. You shall be Ulysses, for you have done nothing but frown since the moment you were born." She declared with finality. Then with a flick of a finger, and literally as naked as the day I was born, she sent me flying through the sky.

That was my introduction to the world of Percy Jackson, not that I knew it at the time. Born to Poseidon and some Nature Spirit as a cyclops and cast off the day I was born. It definitely could have been worse I thought as I sailed through the air. It is what it is though.

I landed in a random patch of wilderness, somewhere on the east coast. Survival came surprisingly easy. Guided by unknown instincts, I found a nice cave. Made a warm fire. Hunted birds, squirrels, deer, and ducks to survive.

My development as a baby cyclops was fast. Comparing the eighteen odd years it takes a human to go from infant to adulthood to the two ish weeks it took me to go from a three foot baby to a six foot not baby was blistering. I imagine that a Cyclops that didn't have past memories to draw from would take a little longer to get to a cognitive level that was comparable to even a twelve year old. Me however, with over twenty eight years of memories, a highschool diploma and a college degree, well I would be pretty far ahead of the curve.

More than that, I was strong. Way stronger than my frame and build had a right to be. I wasn't once to look a gift horse in the mouth though, so I rolled with it. After all, what was super strength to a Son of Poseidon?

I didn't quite keep track of time, but I noticed it when the leaves started falling and the air began to grow frigid. The cold didn't really bother me but something about living in a cave in winter was deeply unappealing, and the ground while hard wasn't uncomfortable, but I still desired to sleep in a bed.

Being a cyclops and all, I didn't think walking into the midst of a human civilization and renting a hotel room would be in my best interest. I was interested in eventually going out and exploring the world, but of the scant few things I remembered from Greek myths and folktales told me that wouldn't be a good idea. I also wasn't sure what time period I was in, but I did vaguely recall flying over what had to have been large scale farm land, and what I thought could be an airport. A modern age world where Greek gods existed was my best guess. Or maybe they always did, and I just didn't know it until I came back from the dead as a monster? I suppose I'd find out eventually. I had very little doubt that this world would come and slap me in the face at some point. A premonition of things to come, but until that time came, I was more than happy to build out a small but comfortable life here.

Thus I began building my cabin. When it came to housing, location was everything. I hiked for days before I found what I considered to be a good spot. In the process, I'd run across a paved road, confirming my theory of being in somewhat modern times. Even so, I built my cabain far enough into the woodland that it would be a two day hike to get to me. Hopefully the lack of trails, and dense tree cover would allow me to stay hidden until I felt ready to move out. When that would be, I had no idea.

I ended up building the cabin near a small river that flowed into a lake. Inadvertently learning that Cyclops are amazing craftsmen. Every time I went to build something I entered a tracne of sorts. Everything just clicked effortlessly, and I knew exactly the steps I had to take from starting at raw materials to making planks, to how to arrange them for maximum stability. More than that, there was an element of magic to anything that I crafted. It was subconscious, but noticeable. The way a stone would break perfectly into a sharp ax head, the way, the way it would stubbornly stick to the shaft. How little it deteriorated even with prolonged use. It helped in more subtle ways too. I knew there were a few steps from cutting down a tree to making two by fours, steps I didn't know, but did not seem to matter for one reason or another.

The end result was a cabin that wouldn't look out of place in some nature catalog. Equipped with a fireplace and a stove, some rudimentary plumbing, A hammock style bed dangling from the sealing, a table with stools at every end. All of it cozy, and created with a level of craftsmanship and detail that was almost inhuman. Yeah, I wouldn't mind staying out here for a bit at all.

The gods, it seemed, had other plans.