After our close encounter with Poseidon and nearly being sent to our watery graves, we decided it was time to get the hell out of dodge. New York was a hot zone for god activity, and we knew we'd already overstayed our welcome.

Over the next few months, we sailed south along the coastlines, hopping from port to port along the way. Apparently, Kronos had been working overtime down in Tartarus, calling out to monsters and invading dreams, because with every stop we made, dozens of new recruits joined us. Giants wielding massive clubs, beautiful women with white-as-snow skin and fiery hair, and hounds the size of pickup trucks were just a few examples of the strange assortment of creatures now residing on our ship.

And of course, there were the demigods. Some of them were young, not old enough to have gone to camp yet but experienced enough to know they weren't like normal mortals. There were older demigods as well. These half-bloods had already "graduated" from camp, being deemed fit enough to survive on their own but ending up disgruntled with their lot in life. But most who joined us were somewhere in the middle like Chris, Luke, and I. They'd been to camp, seen all that it had to offer, and realized it did nothing to fix the core problem demigods faced on a daily basis, only treated its symptoms. Some were children of major gods; others were sired by minor deities. But no matter their age or their parentage, all of them had one thing in common: they had a bone to pick with Olympus.

With every monster and demigod that joined, Kronos grew stronger. I could begin to feel his presence on the ship, an aura so haunting that it made me shudder thinking about what he must've gone through down in Tartarus.

Most of the new recruits, including Chris, ended up living in the general cabins across the ship from where Luke and I were. Tyson didn't seem too thrilled about being neighbors with a loud, clumsy Laistrygonian, and for that reason, we hung out in my room most of the time. He told me he'd tried to recruit some of the other giants into joining his staff, but they turned out to be way too uncoordinated to work with machinery and ended up breaking more things than they fixed.

When that plan fell through, Tyson was approached by a "dog-fishy". Telekhines, as I later learned. They were creatures that had the faces of dogs, with long, black snouts and pointy ears. Their bodies were sleek and black, and sharp claws extended from the fingers of their human-like hands. The strangest thing about them, however, was their feet, which were half-flipper. It was as if evolution had just decided to abandon its project halfway through their transition from sea to land.

As it turned out, these creatures were legit professional forgers, talented enough to give even the Cyclopes a run for their money. Some of the younger ones joined Tyson's crew, helping him maintain and improve the ship, while the older ones set up shop down in the cargo hold, building a makeshift forge for the crafting of weapons and armor.

We had the beginnings of a true army, and with every passing day, the ship began to feel more and more like a military base. I couldn't see us taking down any gods anytime soon, but it was progress.

As for me, my daily routine consisted of mainly three things: eating, sleeping, and training. Luke was pretty much my personal trainer. He kept me on a strict diet (no soda or excessive sugar, which was kind of a bummer) and drilled me every day until I was ready to pass out from exhaustion. The results were pretty easy to see in the mirror. Over my first summer at Camp Half-Blood, I'd gone from being small and scrawny to actually having a decently athletic build, but now I looked like a full-on Olympic swimmer. If I was going to be the hero of the prophecy, I guessed it was important to look the part.

After a couple of months, I had become an expert in swordplay. Luke taught me everything he knew, and after lots of practice, I finally got to a level where I felt we were just about equals. Being much older than me, he still outmatched me in strength and intuition, but I was able to win a few sparring matches here and there without getting high off of water.

The area of training that I'd made the most progress in, however, was hydrokinesis. Luke had been right in that it was sort of like strength training. It took a while to make progress at first, but slowly and steadily I was able to increase the volume of water I was able to work with at once. I don't know what muscle was responsible for enabling my powers, but whatever it was, it must've been bulging by this point. I was able to raise the entire pool like it was just another deadlift, hundreds of thousands of gallons of water rushing around me at once.

Water bending wasn't the only thing I could do. One night, Tyson and I were hanging out in my room when a particularly strong storm hit the ship. It was so powerful that for a little while, I was afraid Poseidon had found us. The ship violently lurched back and forth, things were flying off my shelves, and Tyson was absolutely terrified. I tried to calm him down, saying it was just a thunderstorm, but my words didn't seem to get through to him. When I saw his face turn green right next to my movie collection, I remember really, really wanting the storm to stop. And to my surprise, it did. All at once. I'd never seen a storm clear up that quickly.

After a momentary bout of confusion, I remembered what Chiron had called my father the night I was claimed. Stormbringer. It hadn't occurred to me until then that Poseidon's command over water may not have been the only thing I inherited from him.

The next day, I tried something different during my practice exercises. I looked up towards the sky, imagined the wind whipping through my hair, the raging of the seas and angry claps of thunder rolling across the waves. I felt a familiar tug in my gut. The puzzled look Luke gave me quickly turned to astonishment when the sky directly over the ship darkened, bombarding the deck with heavy rain and gusts of wind, sending deck chairs and umbrella stands flying.

I wouldn't be commanding hurricanes any time soon, but I had to admit, being able to control the weather over my head was pretty freaking cool. It made me curious to see what other powers I had inherited.

The one thing I really couldn't wrap my head around was how I'd activated Kronos's blessing before. I remembered the icy feeling of everything slowing on the beach when I'd fought Ares, as if my limbs had been glued to the air itself. It had felt similar when I touched Kronos's casket, and again during my sparring with Luke. Each of those times had been out of my control or pure reflex, and I couldn't figure out how to replicate it.

We spent the winter in the Gulf of Mexico, basking in the warm air while New York froze. I'd never been to the beach in January before, and boy, was I missing out. Sunbathing probably wasn't high on Kronos's list of productive tasks, but if he had a problem with our leisurely activities after training each day, he didn't voice it.

Spring came, and Luke began acting strangely. He seemed distracted during our sparring matches, his mind lying elsewhere. He made careless mistakes, and I'd very nearly maimed him one time when I'd expected him to block and he didn't. It got to the point where winning didn't even feel like an accomplishment anymore, and whenever I asked him what was up, he'd just tell me not to worry about it.

After training, I'd often see him retiring early to his room, carrying a stack of books on what appeared to be magical medicine. So much for not being the scholarly type. I wasn't sure why he was particularly interested in that subject, but then again, he'd been talking to Kronos a lot more than usual, so it might've been something he was ordered to do.

Whatever the reason, it was clearly taking a toll on him. Purplish bags grew under his eyes, and he seemed like he was in a bad mood all the time, like a college student who hadn't had their morning coffee.

One day, as I was passing by his room, his door flew open and he barged out so quickly that he almost ran into me. There was a victorious glint in his eyes and a crazed smile on his face, and I began to wonder when he'd last slept.

Just when I was about to open my mouth to say something, he told me to hold that thought and dashed into the room with the golden sarcophagus, leaving me scratching my head. It wasn't until a few hours later that I finally learned why he'd been behaving so abnormally.

"The Golden Fleece?" I asked, trying to remember how the myth went. Something about a golden flying ram that was sacrificed to Zeus.

"Yes." Luke stabbed at a piece of meatloaf and brought it up to his mouth. The ship's cafeteria was pretty crowded thanks to all the recruitment we'd been doing. Demigods were lined up at the buffet line, grabbing whatever food looked tasty, while the monsters chowed down on some kind of mystery meat. I thought it better not to ask what it was.

Chewing, Luke continued. "I read an account of Jason and the Argonauts that stated the Fleece has powerful magical healing properties. The island it had been resting on, Colchis, had been a thriving paradise up until Jason took it."

I paused for a moment, pondering the implications of such an item. "So, if we were able to retrieve this Fleece for Kronos…"

"...Then we could use it to speed up his healing process," Chris finished for me. He slapped his hands down on the table excitedly, rattling the silverware and nearly toppling my Coke. "He could be fully reformed by this time next year!"

Luke looked amused at Chris's enthusiasm. The two of them had become fast friends ever since the night we'd recruited Chris. The hispanic teen had been in the Hermes cabin for a couple of years before I first arrived at camp, so they'd had plenty of time to get to know each other beforehand. Like a lot of the other people in the Hermes cabin, he was an undetermined camper, but judging from his mischievous features and talent for lockpicking, I wouldn't have been surprised if the two of them were brothers after all.

"Yes and no," Luke said. "With the Fleece, the titan king could be resurrected more quickly, but that also could potentially throw off his whole war plan. See, Kronos isn't the only one reforming. His brothers are trapped in Tartarus as well, and it could be years until they escape from the pit. Our forces are still relatively scattered and weak, and without proper backup from the titans, it would be dangerous for Kronos to reform too quickly. We'd risk drawing unwanted attention from Olympus. So, instead of jumping the gun and getting blown away, Kronos and I came up with a better alternative."

"And that is?"

He set down his silverware and wiped a napkin across his mouth before sitting back in his chair, looking content and quite pleased with himself. "We're going to add another piece to the chessboard. Another chance to control the prophecy."

Chris and I shared a confused look. "What do you mean?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Thalia," he said, and my eyes widened in recognition upon hearing the name of the hero of Half-Blood Hill. "Her spirit is still alive in that tree, and I believe the Fleece is strong enough to undo Zeus's magic and pull her out of it."

I stared at Luke, wondering if such a plan could really work. "But wait… Didn't you say Thalia was turned into a tree five years ago? If it's really been that long, then she'd be over 16 years old by now, right? No longer eligible for the prophecy."

Luke shrugged. "Hard to say. Trees take a lot longer to age than humans. She might have grown more slowly than you and I while she was in there."

I wasn't sure what to think. I've had some pretty crazy ideas in the past, but even I had to admit this was a bit of a stretch. The plan was risky enough as it was, and it was being staked on a lot of assumptions, but if Kronos had given him the O.K., then I supposed I could get behind it.

Not to mention, I was intrigued by the idea of meeting another child of the Big Three. Many demigods came from broken homes or were hounded by monsters all the time, so I was able to relate to most of them pretty well, but there wasn't really anyone with whom I could share the burden of the Great Prophecy. Ever since I first heard it, there was this sort of crushing heaviness that would press down on my chest every now and then when I remembered those harrowing lines.

I didn't like to talk about it. I didn't want Luke to think I was weak. Don't get me wrong, I absolutely did not want anyone to die in my place, but it just would've been nice to have someone I could relate to more easily, someone who understood the immense pressure. Annabeth had once said Thalia and I would've either been best friends or worst enemies. I hoped it was the former.

One thing still bothered me though. The Great Prophecy had been rather ambiguous when it came to the outcome of the hero's decision. Olympus to preserve or raze. As Luke said, it was hard to know Thalia's age, but if she was older than me, then why would Kronos want to risk having her be the child of the prophecy over me? I'd already sworn myself to him. Sure, Thalia had plenty of reasons to be pissed at her father and the other Olympians, but how deeply did her anger reside? Would she be willing to take the plunge like Luke and I had?

"She'll join us," Luke said with absolute conviction, as if reading my thoughts. "I know it."

I studied him for a moment, surprised. I'd never heard anyone sound so sure of something in my life. He stated it as if it were fact, like it had already come true. It almost made me believe him, but some part of my mind remained skeptical. I realized Luke must've held more sway over his decision-making progress than I had originally thought for Kronos to approve of this risk.

Another thought caused a pit to form in my stomach. It was either that, or the titan king still didn't quite trust me yet. He wanted a mulligan in case I didn't turn out the way he wanted me to.

Chris sat forward, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "So where is this Fleece? Let's go get it!"

The smirk on Luke's face curled downwards. "Well, that's the thing. We're not sure."

"Oh," Chris said, sinking back into his chair, disappointment evident on his face. "Well, how are we going to find it, then?"

"We don't have to do anything. Camp Half-Blood will find it for us."

"...and why would they do that?"

Luke's eyes bored into both of us. "They'll have to, if they want their camp's boundaries to continue to protect them. Thalia's spirit is what strengthens the borders, keeping monsters and mortals out. If we were to, say, poison the tree, the campers would have no choice but to embark on a quest for something that could heal it. And that something would have to be the Golden Fleece."

I stared at him, mouth agape, wondering if I'd heard him right. "Seriously?" I snapped. "You'd poison your friend? What if the quest fails, and she dies?"

He glared at me, his scar taking on a dark shade of red. Combined with the dark bags under his eyes, he looked downright terrifying. "You call what she has right now a life? If the tree dies, then it dies. But if this works..."

He trailed off, but I got his point. There really was a lot we could gain from this. But I still had plenty of reservations.

"Ok, but what about the campers?" I asked, my arms crossed against my chest. "If the borders go down, a lot of them are going to get hurt."

"Pfft, it's a freaking hero camp," he countered, lazily waving his hand through the air. "They train to fight monsters every day. They'll be fine for a week or two."

"How can you be so indifferent about this?" I demanded. "We still have friends there. Silena, your brothers and sisters… What if Annabeth is back at camp already?"

I glanced at Chris, and to my relief he seemed just as concerned as I was. There had to be people he cared about at camp, too.

Luke pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows curled downwards in annoyance. "Look, Thalia's been protecting that damn camp for 5 years now. It's thanks to her that no monsters have gotten in. Many of the campers, including Annabeth, are only alive because of her. They owe her for that. I think they can sacrifice a week or two of safety to repay that debt." He sighed, and his eyes softened. "And besides, it's like I said. They'll be fine. Trust me, they can handle themselves. Plus, they'll have Chiron and Mr. D there."

We sat in silence for a moment, Luke waiting expectantly for more protests. I stared at him, stunned. I really hadn't thought about Thalia like that. Every day that I had stayed at camp, I guess I'd kind of taken for granted that I could train without monsters sneaking up on me. I never really thought about how I was only able to sleep soundly at night because of her sacrifice. I began to see it from Luke's perspective. If there was even a sliver of a chance we could save her, shouldn't we try to take it?

And he had a point about Chiron, who was pretty much a one-man army by himself (or a half-man/half-horse army), but I knew it would be a cold day in Hades before Mr. D ever lifted a finger to help a camper.

But still, Luke seemed to be under the impression that the camp was in debt to Thalia for her sacrifice, but the reason she'd stayed behind to take on so many monsters by herself was so Annabeth, Luke, and Grover could make it into the camp. If anyone indeed owed their life to Thalia, it would be Luke.

Chris sat forward once more, splayed fingers rubbing at his eyes. "So let me get this straight," he said. "We're going to poison a tree, which may or may not trigger a quest for a magical cure that might just happen to be the Golden Fleece, all in the hopes it heals the tree so well that it spits Thalia out? Did I miss anything?"

"We have no guarantee the camper's quest will even be a success," I chimed in helpfully. The plan was so full of holes, it might as well have been Swiss cheese.

Luke threw his hands up exasperatedly. "Alright! I get it! So it's not the best plan," he conceded. "It might not even be a good plan, but it's all we have. If you have something better, I'm all ears."

I thought for a moment before an idea struck me. "Why don't we just sneak into camp and consult the Oracle ourselves? You and I both have experience with quests. We'd make a great tag-team, and I'd rather not leave it up to random campers who might fail."

Luke nodded as if he was expecting me to ask that. "Normally, I'd agree with you, but we declared ourselves for Kronos, remember? The camp's borders won't let us back in. The only way we'd be able to even get to the Oracle is by, once again, poisoning Thalia's tree and weakening the boundaries. And by that point, the camp will be on full alert. Much safer for us to let the campers get the quest themselves."

Chris and I shared a look with each other, but we remained silent. I wasn't entirely happy with the details of the plan. It felt cowardly and backstabbing to put the entire camp in danger like that. Camp was supposed to be the only safe place in the world for us demigods. Taking that away from them, even if it was for a good cause, was wrong.

But we didn't have the first clue as to where to find the Fleece, and I was out of ideas.

"Fine," I surrendered. "I'll do it your way. Chris?"

The guy was staring at the table so fixedly I thought he'd burn a hole straight through it. After a moment, his expression relaxed. "Alright," he said. He turned to Luke. "You're right. Cla — er, the campers can take care of themselves. I'm in."

Luke grinned, looking pleased. He clapped his hands together. "Fantastic. First, we'll need to get the poison, and there's only one substance in the world strong enough to poison a tree as large as this one. And you two will be helping me get it." A tired yawn escaped his lips, and he checked his watch. "But not tonight. We'll go first thing tomorrow morning. In the meantime, get some sleep," he finished.

"It's 7:30," I informed him, as if he didn't just check his watch a second ago.

"Right, bedtime."

I'm not sure if I said this yet, but I appreciate all of the reviews, and it means a lot to know that you guys are enjoying this. I know my updates can be kind of slow so I appreciate you all bearing with me. Now to answer a few questions:

The8horcrux: So is Percy never going to turn good again? Is this going to be a tragedy? Percy is going to be constantly fighting with himself, trying to reconcile his own morals with what Kronos wants him to do. I don't think Percy considers himself to be 'good' or 'bad' right now, just trying to do the right thing in an increasingly confusing world. I haven't planned too far ahead, so even I have no idea how this story will end yet. All I can say is keep reading!

BlackholesA: So is this going to be one story? Or multiple stories? Can we have a campers pov? I kind of want to follow the main story as much as possible, so I'll likely have continuous stories for The Sea of Monsters, the Titan's Curse, etc. That's the idea anyway, but I haven't really planned too far in advance, so anything could happen.

As for your third question, I kind of wanted to ask for more opinions on this. Originally, I was planning on keeping this story Percy POV only, and it's been easy to do so far since nothing major has happened at CHB yet. But this story is following the SoM, so Annabeth and Clarisse will have to be included eventually. I think the best way to do this would be to have Annabeth POV chapters. I know some people can't stand POV switching, so I wanted to get some thoughts on this before I start writing them. Thanks!