DISCLAIMER: All the characters except the OC's in the story belong to Rick Riordan.


Chapter 2: I make new acquaintances in life.

RINGG!

The final bell for the day rang and the school halls were soon filled with students maneuvering between the lockers. Percy lowered his hood while exiting the classroom and made his way toward the gates. He ignored the looks of scorn and a couple of 'accidental' shoves in the hallway and almost reached the exit.

But things rarely go his way.

Just as he was about to step out of the school grounds out into the open world—a much more dangerous world, nonetheless—someone yanked him by his shoulder and shoved him to the nearest locker.

His expression didn't so much as shift an inch at the sudden attack. He'd dealt with far more savage things so he was unsurprised to find an irate Jack Sanders standing before him with his arms crossed and a glare in his eyes. Percy kept his face blank, not letting anything slip through his eyes.

"Yo Jackson, why don't you take your hood off?" he sneered, trying to get a rise out of him. "I bet you look so ugly that you were scared to show your face."

"What do you want?" Percy asked tediously. Jack flinched slightly but chuckled at him. He was playing it off well, but Percy had seen the flash of anger before he backed off.

"You know how to act cool, huh, Percy?" Reaching out his arm, Jack let a hand rest on his shoulder. From a distance, it may have seemed like he was trying to have a conversation, casually trying to befriend him. In reality, though, his grip wrapped around Percy's arm like a vice. It felt like his collarbone was just seconds away from being crushed, but he managed to keep up his poker face.

He wasn't about to give Jack the satisfaction of knowing just how much that hurt. Getting no reaction, Jack's frown deepened, and he reluctantly let go.

That should've been the end of it. But rather than walking down the halls to his next victim, Jack leaned down to his ear, speaking so low only he could hear. "You know about the incident in the gym, right? And you wouldn't mind covering up for me with the coach tomorrow, right?" His smile looked sincere, and a twinkle of hope showed in his eyes

But Percy wasn't naïve. He had figured out the unwritten rules pretty quickly in his first few days there.

Snitching was outlawed, the equivalent of committing social suicide. Yancy Academy wasn't some simple elementary school, where being a loner meant that the popular crowd spread a bunch of nasty rumors about you behind your back. Here, being an outcast has real consequences, the kind that got you visiting the nurse's office more often than you'd like.

He had to beg his mom all the summer to let him attend a public school while staying with her and Gabe. She'd been reluctant to keep him around Gabe, but once he tipped her about the last monster attack, she had reluctantly agreed to his request.

So he wasn't about to spoil things just because a bunch of bullies rounded him up. He shook his head in silent rejection.

The light atmosphere fizzled out after that though. Looking past Jake, he could spot several other boys flanking Jake's on either side, each looking at him with eyes even more aggravated than Jake's own. Beyond them, he could only make out the sounds of a few kids shuffling along with their lockers. Even if they weren't participating, it seemed that just about everyone else in their block was listening in on the conversation.

Jack Sanders tried his luck first. He threw a punch at Percy's face. Without even looking, Percy moved out of the way slightly that Jack's fist connected to the locker door behind him. His scowl morphed into a pain-filled grimace as he clutched his hand and backed away.

Cedric Oliver—Jack's second-in-command— stepped forward to restrain him, but Percy hit his nose hard and he slid painfully to the ground.

He turned his gaze to the gangly Donald Stenson—the beefy kid in the class— while silently stepping out of the crowd, but before he could leave through the exit, a hand gripped his ankle and sent him tumbling. It seemed Cedric seemed set on having his revenge on him more than he thought.

Percy landed on his back and quickly made to get up, but Donald forced a knee to his chest, making him solely focus on blocking his face as fists began raining down on top of him. A kick to his sides from a third party made him open his guard, and he was quickly made into a human punching bag. The rest of the boys surrounded him and began throwing kicks and punches of their own.

Roars of approval quickly echoed and more students crowded around them. But all too soon, their entertainment died down because a janitor called them out from his nearby office. Everyone scurried out of the gates and he was left on the floor, groaning and clutching his sides, grimacing at the thought of the bruises he would get before reaching home.

He reached his mom's apartment building in Harlem, just past the sundown. It was run down, graffitied, and sketchy. She'd said it was a cheap place for them to stay and cover all their expenses, including her night classes. Even after living in it, seeing it made anger and bitterness churn uncontrollably in his stomach.

To know that his mom, the sweetest and most forgiving person in the world was forced to live in a dump like that just to save a few bucks to support everyone in the house was bad enough on its own. To know that she was doing it for him and that dog...

Percy shook his head and walked up the aging concrete steps and narrow front hall and reached his mom's door. He tiptoed inside the dark halls and silently limped to his room, before locking it behind. That alcoholic-abusive animal had passed out on the couch in the living room.

He shrugged off the clean hoodie and stood before the mirror. The shirt underneath was in tatters with dried blood and claw marks all over his body. His left eye was swollen shut, with blood starting to leak into it. His lips felt split into several places, and his nose bent at a rough angle. His breathing was still off because of it and from where the huge monstrous dog had put its paws on his chest.

Percy silently picked some clothes from the closet and made his way to the bathroom. The walls were speckled with dirt and the tiled floor was chipped in several places—no doubt about Gabe's doing—and installed with a cheap, low flow showerhead and a busted heater.

Stepping into it, he turned the tap and was soon met with a pathetic groan of the showerhead and a small stream of water began to pitter out of it. He placed his hand against the wall and felt something move at an even pace behind it. There were no blockages, no tiny obstructions to its path. It was controlled, it was precise, it was perfect.

A cheeky grin grew on his lips and he pulled at the source of the water, willing it towards him. It didn't so much as question his motive before it began to move. The faucet exploded with life and he was immediately soaked by the torrents of water from the shower. Be it hot or cold, water was always a welcome element in his life.

He glanced down at his torso and shoulders, where ugly claw marks and purple bruises had been left from the night's events. He stood directly under the flow of the water, watching the marks carefully. The change occurred quickly, and he watched in both amusement and wonder as the bruises and cuts began to recede into themselves. Within seconds, the large bruises were replaced with the smooth, pale white skin he was used to, and sighed in relief.

He stepped out of the bathroom, dressed for the night, only to come face to face with smelly Gabe. The old man was in dirty wifebeaters and shorts and looked at him with bleary eyes. Gabe looked like an overgrown tusk-less walrus with a bald head and patchy beard.

"Hey, twerp! Made me wait for long, eh?" he slurred, blinking back sleep. "Get me a beer from the fridge. The boys are comin' over in an hour and I need the energy to handle 'em."

The ugly dog before him reeked of beer and junk food. The television in the living room blared ESPN, most probably with chips and beer cans strewn all over the floor. He didn't understand why his mom put up with Gabe, even though he never supported anything to manage the house.

Gabe worked at some electronic mart in Queens, but he stayed at home most of the time, playing poker with his buddies. Percy didn't get why he hadn't been fired long before and kept on collecting a paycheck—spent on cigars and beer.

"While you're at, go make yourself useful and clean up the living room." he drawled, waiting for him to begin, "Or you'd prefer your mom do it instead?" he growled when Percy simply stared at him.

That lit a fuse.

"Screw you, Gabe, look at yourself before the living room. You reek like a sewer, you abominable troll."

Percy regretted it that second the words left his mouth. Not cause it was a low blow. Gabe had already struck beneath his belt, and he was just returning the favor. But the repercussions for that insult were not he was looking forward to. Just as he expected...

The old man scowled like a porcupine, his three hairs on his bald scalp shaking with him, the veins in his fist and temple had become a lot more pronounced.

Percy didn't bother apologizing. Partly because he didn't want to, and partly because they were already beyond the point of no return. Insulting him like that probably just dashed away what few misgivings Gabe had about assaulting him in the hallway.

The grabbed his head and shoved his face to the nearby wall and growled at him. "Listen here, brain boy. You'd better act your age and do what I tell you to in my house before I throw you out along with your mom. Now, get me a beer." he shoved Percy towards the kitchen and sauntered into the living room.

Percy stood up, dusting off his PJ's and strode forward to the kitchen muttering under his breath, "Thank the god that I'm not that inclined to do something to you. The Police and media, I can handle. The monsters that come along with them, I can handle them too, but I'd rather not."

He returned to his room, after handling everything the tusk-less walrus assigned him all the while restraining his instincts to take over and set the smelly old man straight.

He opened the closet and picked up a knapsack, its content rattling loudly as he pulled it out. He undid the latches, and it sprung open to an assortment of items that could only be described as trophies, memoirs of the supernatural world he was involved in. The knapsack held all the proof of existence of the world beyond their own.

It contained skins, feathers, claws, fangs, and other assortments of items he couldn't accurately describe. He reached into his school bag, and pulled out a few strange weapons: a pair of knives.

A lesson he had learned the hard way: Normal weapons didn't work on monsters.

Normal knives and metal pipes just passed right through them. Sticks like pool cues and golf clubs work better, but not perfect. They could at least touch the monsters, but broke quickly and could never land a killing blow. It had taken him plenty of encounters in the last few months, but eventually realized that the best method of fighting monsters, was to use their own gear against them.

He only managed to make a couple of such weapons that could actually put down a monster for good. The blade of the makeshift knives itself were large curvy fangs, one he had torn straight from a monstrous dog. It was superglued and duct-taped to the handle of a busted ping-pong paddle. The knapsack also has a sleek aluminum baseball bat he'd managed to get from cleaning the school gym for his coach. If it weren't for the hideous snakeskin he'd wrapped around the business end which ensured contact with the monsters, it may have made a decent collectible.

Ever since his mom refused to accept the supernatural things around him, Percy took things into his own hands. Every night or two, he snuck out of the apartment to fight the creatures that were unfathomable in both strength and design. Every night from then on, he sought out the monsters lurking in the dark alleyways and shadows rather than playing the fool and ignoring them.

Every night, he prowled the streets and the area around his mom's apartment to fight the supernatural that he'd accepted to be a part of the world they lived in so that his mom could sleep peacefully in ignorance. She was the sole reason he had taken his vow of violence against all the creatures surrounding them.

But Percy know that it was just a stop-gap measure. He'd learned from his first experience that monsters sought him out not just to have an easy meal. It was in their nature to enjoy a good hunt, play with the prey and inflict enough torture before going for the kill.

So few of his strategies involved feigning struggle to let the monsters relish and close in for him to secure the gain. He had always managed to trick them to lower their guard down—an act he has mastered in months—to get out on top. He always wondered how long could he possibly continue to toggle between the two worlds he was a part of. Someday, a monster he couldn't fool or couldn't win would overpower him, ending things once and for all.

oOo

The school had been the normal thing in his abnormal life so far, but that doesn't mean he liked it any better than fighting monsters. After accepting the mysterious world that intertwined with his own, he came to a few conclusions about his skills, powers, and the problems he has to face in his life.

Dyslexia—his reading disability in relating letters and words from books—was a disorder that affects the areas of his brain that processes language. He inability to identity speech and relate to letter in books was either a side-effect to his skills or a disability he was born with. He had struggled throughout the year and was only able to get the words right on his second—if lucky—or the third trails. He wasn't ashamed of being different or having those powers over water. To be as strong as he was, and to see the things through the illusion, he saw it as a blessing.

Percy had cursed his lineage only a handful of times.

Then came his restlessness in class—ADHD—which came with a package of heightened senses and instincts to survive the tussles with the monsters regularly. The impulse to arm himself and face the monstrosities and his fast reflexes to gain upper hand on beings larger and stronger than him.

The counselors told him many ways to conquer dyslexia and ADHD, for it involved a lot of patience and work. During the school year, he's spent his free time in the counselor's office, listening to them rant about personal and social development, self-discipline while gleaming facts to control his restlessness. The counselors were trying to help, but with only half of the story given to them, there was only so much they could do.

After gathering everything from them, Percy has devised plans for his self-transformation. He had stayed in the library after school hours and would visit the public library on the weekends. He tried to read books, albeit very slowly. The process had been too slow and hard for him. During his stay, surrounded by silence, his ADHD would act up and he was forced to limit his restlessness and impulses to tapping his feet against the floor, ignoring the irritated stares from others.

He picked books mostly on meditation to attain inner equilibrium and abnormal creatures. Every book on ancient myths had a few instances of monsters he came across, mostly in ancient Greek and Latin myths. He even managed to stumble through a few ancient Greek phrases on his own, which was a far cry from English. But without a guide to teach, it took a long time for him to grasp around the corners and read through the verses.

To achieve the state of stillness and inner stability without surrounding himself with water was strenuous, but Percy would remind himself of his mom's disappointed and broken look to steel himself once again to work harder. It took him a whole year to control his ADHD and sit through a class without any trouble or inconvenience. The effort he'd put included several trial-error methods, hours of sitting through grueling rants of counselors and experts, and his commitment to succeed in bringing his ADHD to an acceptable level.

But like all the good things come to an end...

One day, Percy returned home from the library to a scene that made his blood run cold and brought forth an uncontrollable rage: Gabe raised his hand to hit his cowering mom. Though he didn't strike her yet, that's beside the point. A red handprint on her face was a telltale sign.

All this while, Percy had settled to unleash his bitterness and anger on the monsters outside the apartment that he mostly had forgotten about the one living with them. He had consoled himself that Gabe wasn't some ravenous beasts hunting him down solely to have a good meal. He was just a normal alcoholic-abusive human—a pathetic excuse of a human—but human nonetheless.

But his mom has always been a touchy subject to him. It was because of her he had risked his young life, hardened himself, left behind everything, and turned into another monster to hunt down the rest. It was because of her, he'd gritted his teeth at the abuse smelly Gabe put him through. Now to see her face the same abuse as he was subjected to, all Percy saw was red.

The plumbing pipe under the sink groaned like a caged animal. The water behind it wanted to escape, to be free of its confines. He didn't deny its freedom and pulled at the source. The pipe under the sink exploded and the faucet shot forward like a bullet, striking Gabe's head and opening a wide cut across the back of the scalp. The old man went unconscious from the force before he could scream in pain.

A torrent of water immediately flooded the kitchen floor before he forced it to a standstill. Gabe lay prone on the floor, his blood mixing with water around him. It was not in Percy's nature to attack another human with his superhuman strength. But he didn't feel an ounce of guilt attacking Gabe.

Percy felt only tiny remorse hitting Gabe, but he didn't regret his decision. A choice between Gabe and his mom wasn't much of a choice at all.

Substitute Gabe with just about anything on the world, and the answer would remain the same.

Watching the bloodied man on their kitchen floor didn't stir any emotions within him either. He didn't feel anything: fear, guilt, relief, pleasure. Nothing at all. But that couldn't be said about his mom, though. Percy glanced at her, only for her to look at him with eyes he'd never seen before on her.

She had the same look of terror and fear that usually appear on monsters before their ultimate demise. To watch the same look on her face, that too being directed at him, churned his insides with shame, anger, and disappointment.

"I—The plu-plumbing...it must've been worn down after years..." he mumbled lamely. "I—I'll inform the management about it after this.." he pointed at the still Gabe. His mom nodded silently, hands covering her mouth to choke back—probably, screams and—her tears.

He dragged Gabe to his room after a rough patch up, cleaned the kitchen before stepping out of the house. His feet took him to the lake in the park near the Harlem and plopped down on the bench facing the clear water before him.

He had met his first non-aggressive mythological entity at the lake. That was a weird coincidence and chance encounter for the both members involved. He still remembered their first conversation, to the very tiny detail.

oOo

After having been chased by a bunch of dog-headed creatures with beady eyes, elongated jaws, and gleaming—canines—teeth and floppy dog ears on each side of their face, Percy had arrived at the lake to have a support system during the fight. He was soon overpowered though but somehow managed to chase them away, purely on adrenaline. With no strength left, he plopped face-first into the lake and fell unconscious to the bottom.

He'd woken up at the bottom of the lake with a woman of nearly twenty years of age sitting before him. She was very beautiful and looked at ease under the water. Her clothes were made of the shells and plants he could've found at the bottom of the lake. But nothing eased his wariness towards her. It was the instinct he'd developed over years and he wasn't going to change it over a beautiful face. She gave him a kind smile.

"Calm down. You're safe here," she said in a clear voice. "I've driven the Cynocephali away from the lake. I'm Elaine." She assured and introduced herself. But what surprised Percy was she was the most human-looking entity in the supernatural with speech ability. All the hideous beasts that he couldn't even imagine in his dreams were only capable of either snarl or growl at him. She was also the first non-aggressive entity as he didn't sense any malice from her.

"Who are you?" he asked. It was weird listening to your voice under a lake, projected into the water like ripples.

"I'm a Naiad, child. A freshwater nymph. The lake we're currently in has been my home for a few centuries now. I protect the lake from pollution and it sustains my life force. I know a demigod child of Poseidon when I see one, so I brought you here to recuperate."

A Naiad? A few centuries? he thought to himself.

"What's a demigod?" It was a stupid question given the circumstance, but after listening to her, he wanted to be certain.

"What's your name, child?" she asked. "Where are you from?"

Percy looked at her dubiously. Under normal circumstances, he'd never reveal his details to strangers, in fear of attracting danger to his mom. But if he wanted answers, that much information exchange was necessary. "I'm Percy. Perseus Jackson." He then gave a few broad strokes of his life.

Elaine's expression shifted to concerned confusion as she looked at him questioningly. "Did your mother truly never tell you of your heritage?"

Percy huffed and shook his head. It seemed he was the only guy in the dark nowadays. "I've learned everything about the unusual on my own." he gave away his name reluctantly.

Elaine straightened her posture, gaining a noble look before stating, "Perseus Jackson, you're a Demigod. A Demigod son of Poseidon."

A beat of silence passed them underwater.

"...What?" he asked, not quite sure he had heard her right.

"You are a Demigod, Percy. A child born between the union of a mortal and a god of Olympus." Elaine crossed her hands, looking at him with discerning eyes. Taking his silence, she forged ahead.

"Surely you've noticed some of the sign by now? An affinity for Greek, supernatural phenomena that only you and nobody else seems to notice? Judging from your fight before, I'd suspect you're already familiar with your heightened strength and reflexes."

"...But..." he started, still not convinced. "That would mean the Olympian gods are real..." he chewed his bottom lip in contemplation.

"I doubt the Cynocephalus was your first monster. After everything you've borne witness to and entities came into contact with, is believing in the Greek divinity truly so difficult for you? You understand the concept of immortality, right?"

Percy took a couple of deep breaths and a count to ten—like his counselor advised—to avoid decking Elaine before he asked, "Alright, fine." he conceded. "But why is it in New York? Shouldn't it be at the foot of—I don't know, what was it called—Mt. Olympus? In Greece?" he countered.

"Um, I don't know how to explain the migration of Western Civilization to you, but here's my take. The term 'Greek God' is more of a ceremonial title, one held out of respect to the first civilization ruled by the Olympians. It would be more accurate to say that they are the Western Gods, those who rule over all Western society, and as the heart and center of Western civilization shifts, so do the Gods along with it."

"It was in Greece first, as you've said. Then it went on to Rome, Spain, France, Prussia, England... Every dominant power in the world has held the fire of the West. And for the first time, the flame has left Europe and settled its hearth in the United States."

Percy flopped back on the seafloor, staring blankly at the surface, wondering if all of that was a bizarre dream. You don't often expect to have the mysteries of the world explained to you so casually like this. What shocked him wasn't the information, it was the fact that it all made sense, albeit slightly.

"Hard to believe, hmm?" Elaine's eyes twinkled down in the clear water.

"No..." he shook his head. All his life, he'd wondered what was different about him, his existence, his connection to the water and the monsters. He'd wondered that everything had been inherited from his dead father. It was a child's dream, a template from a fantasy movie, but still.

"It's more like it's hard to accept... I've spent nearly three years wondering about it but rejected the notion just for my sanity. Now out of nowhere you've come along and confirmed everything." he offered her an apologetic look. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but..."

"You felt cheated. You felt like you should've figured this out yourself." Elaine hit the nail on the head. He nodded miserably. She gave him a genuine smile in understanding.

Percy had once felt that he shouldn't put it past the unseen force to throw something as unoriginal as the existence of Greek gods in his direction and had let the sleeping dog lie till now. But to get the same conclusion once again, he found the last of his resolve to deny the obvious fade from his entire being.

"One more thing." she brought him out of his reverie. "You're a son of Poseidon. I would advise you to keep that information secret as long as possible. Your uncles would love to kill you because of your identity. Your father and uncles take sibling rivalry to an extreme, I suppose."

He still had trouble believing everything about Greek Mythology, but there was nothing for his non-existing father in his young heart. Percy didn't feel like thinking about it would do him any good either. He also didn't exactly understand the implication behind her words about the rivalry, but nodded his head, grateful for her advice.

He didn't exactly trust the naiad before him, but so far, nothing out of ordinary happened and he could use her help for information regarding everything.

oOo

"Percy..." he was brought out of his reminiscence by a gentle voice from within the lake. The naiad, Elaine, floated just beneath the surface elegantly. Her eyes held the same gentle disposition. Ever since their meeting, Elaine had adopted him as her little brother and they made sure to meet as much as possible. She has grown on him in his precarious life where he can't say anything about the next day.

She helped him a lot in understanding his power over the water during their meetups. She even taught him how to alter the temperature of the water. He was only able to warm up and cool down the water now, far from freezing or evaporating it. She also gave him a detailed description of the Olympian gods and their characteristics in their talks.

"What happened?" she asked again, mild concern creeping into her voice. He sighed and related everything at home. He'd left most of his family out of the discussions before to avoid her pity and the ever-wonderful Elaine took the hint that he'd no love for his immortal father and avoided it just as much.

After relaying everything about his helplessness regarding his mom's fear, Gabe, and his habits, he thought about his non-existing feelings when Gabe lay prone before him. He wondered when had Elaine replaced his mom for his get-go about everything related to the supernatural.

Associating and fighting with the mythical beings, Percy hadn't realized just how detached he had made himself. School and mortal issues were the least of his concerns nowadays. He belatedly realized the more he engaged their mythical world, the more they pulled him into it.

"Perce, I think you've misunderstood your mother. I've had my doubts about it, but your divine aura was very weak when we first met. It still is. Your divine aura was masked by a human stench and has eluded most of the monsters." she slowly said.

"What are you trying to tell me, Elaine?"

"You see, some mortals have a very pungent scent to them that repels monsters. In your case, the stench from this Gabe-whatever is masking your demigod scent. Once you learned your heritage, its effects were reduced, but your aura was a lot less strong than it should be."

"Are you trying to tell me that my mom married that pig clearly knowing about me and hiding me from monsters?" he choked out, disbelief clearly evident in his tone. Elaine gave him a sympathetic look that told Percy much more than words ever could.

"Yes, Some mortal women are known for doing even more weird things for their children. The more you grow up, the more your powers and aura increase. The more you learn about your heritage and engage it, the more pronounced your scent becomes. She must've married that person to mask your scent."

Percy knew his mom could see the monsters. She knew he could as well. Yet he dropped the subject every time after watching her expression change. He could see how his statements had affected her, how her mind began whirring a million miles an hour and how memories she had kept hidden began to resurface. He didn't consider before why had his mom been so against the existence of monsters?

Originally, he had just assumed that it was due to her life. She was a single mom struggling to get by in New York, with an alcoholic non-existent husband. There was enough on her plate already, and then she'd have to take care of a son who claimed that he could see monsters? Percy couldn't blame her for not wanting to put up with that. But now, being told that there was something deeper to it...

"Then, is it possible to mask my aura completely from monsters?" he asked, a whole bunch of ideas whirring in his mind.

"Completely masking is the same as denying your very own existence. It's impossible. Your aura is in your being, your blood. You could try and mask your aura so that monsters don't seek you out deliberately. But I don't remember any precedence to it." she reminded him.

But the possibility was all he needed at the moment to avoid guilt and shame swallowing him. He'd utterly failed to understand the love his mother has for him. He felt like a son unworthy of his mother's love, doubting her after being given nothing but constant validation of her unconditional devotion to him.

oOo

From then on, Percy attempted to conceal his aura with renewed vigor. He returned to the school counselors and collected a few breathing techniques to bring his inner state to equilibrium. He felt a connection to the water from within him after attaining it: being near a water source helped him attain stability a lot faster.

It was like a indistinct sphere of influence inside him, filled with power from his godly parent's domains. He could neither see nor touch it, but feel it inside him, a sphere of black and white, one trying to overpower the other. He could feel the contents of the sphere spread throughout his body, granting him superhuman abilities, and slowly projected outside. He extrapolated answers from observing the inner workings of this sphere over some time and devised various methods to reduce the leakages, attain stability, control the rate at which the energy spread his whole body, and adjust the size of the stream filling the sphere.

The whole school term was spent creating a rudimentary technique to mask one's aura from the monsters. It would avoid monsters deliberately seeking you out. Percy was able to restrict it to a very minute level, almost negligible so that the night prowls could be limited too.

The monster hunting was drastically reduced once he managed to control his aura to a reasonable level and from Elaine's admonishment. She didn't like him spending his entire time over monster-hunting rather than acting like a kid his age.

"There shouldn't be an eight-year-old in this world that can hunt down monsters all by himself." she used to lament all the time.

Like always, Percy would grin and point a finger at him, "But there is!"

"Oh, shut up!" she would grumble for a bit and forget about it.

As luck would have, near the end of the school term, he ran into another demigod on his way back home.

Near the Harlem, just around the corner to the street, he heard low growls—a hellhound, definitely—and went to check it. He peered into the alleyway where he heard the growling and saw an older girl of about thirteen fending off a hellhound the size of a car with a shield and spear. The weapons looked formidable and conventional, unlike his makeshift ones.

The girl wore some dark-themed clothes. With her dark, spiky hair and sky blue eyes, she pulled off the punk look perfectly. Her spear was crackling with electricity. And the shield had the terrifying image of a tusked female monster face. She handled the humungous dog easily, far easier than him, but considering her weapons and age, Percy could let his loss slide.

She exited the alleyway covered in golden ash. He glanced around for others and rounded her cautiously. "What kind of weapons are those?" he asked, intrigued about the retractable shield and spear.

She eyed him cautiously and snapped her fingers before his face. "Nothing happened here, and you are going home without looking back."

Percy felt the images of her fight inside his mind slowly start to disappear and the air around him tightened, but he bit his lip hard to draw blood, snapping out of it.

"Please, I'm a demigod too. You're the first one I've come across and any information you have would help me survive another day, please." he implored, doing his best big-eyed pleading thing. It always got things done.

Percy stared until the girl's will literally crumble and sighed. "What's your name, kid?" he remained silent. She nodded her head appreciatively at his caution.

She straightened a little and raised her chin proudly, "I'm Thalia, daughter of Zeus."

xXx

A/N: I get that Thalia doesn't know mist manipulation before her time at camp, but what she tried to perform on Percy was the most rudimentary technique, I believe—restarting a person's memory to erase the last few seconds. She tried but failed too.

A/N: And Elaine is a OC, introduced for the story.