AN: Hello and welcome to the story! Heads up, this is my first ever piece of fiction, so expect such fun stuff as: plotholes, errors, dumb mistakes, horrible pacing and terrible dialogue. Feel free to point any of it in reviews. Any constructive criticism is welcome, but if you don't like the premise, design choices or the fact that there probably won't be any pairings, shout up or get out. Romance is not the point of this story. Also, I don't know if I will even finish this (hopefully I will), I'm doing this as a hobby first and foremost. So, without further ado, welcome to the Grimoire.

Nothing belongs to me except my OC's. Rest is Riordan's.

Yeah, so I know that this is supposed to be a grimoire, but besides explaining magic I was asked by Chiron to also share my experiences and my journey so you, dear demigod, may know how does it feel to escape death and what dangers await you on your quests. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Jake Kowalski, but throughout the years I have also been called Magician, Mistweaver and that idiot who dabbles in powers far beyond his understanding, and what you are holding in your hands is my book. But let's start at the beginning, before those names were spoken and before I even had knowledge of existence of supernatural. Let's start when I was 12.

You know, when looking at my family it's no surprise that I was kinda weird growing up. Starting with the obvious, I never knew my mother. Dad never really talked about her, and I only knew that something happened to her and dad was left alone taking care of a small child. So let's discuss the old man, shall we? Roderick Kowalski, in public he was a normal, gray member of society, working 8-4 in a corp as an IT specialist. In private though? Man was obsessed with supernatural. Pentagrams, ghosts, tarot, gods, magic, demons, angels... you get the idea. He listened to occult songs with a healthy dose of Norwegian death metal sprinkled into the mix. No wonder that at 6 years of age i could „read future" from tarot, and even now I still listen to metal. Old man corrupted me. We lived in a small apartment in New York, with 2 bedrooms, a kitchen and a small living room. Overall pretty cosy. Of course dad had many books on magic and magicians, reading from tarot, biblical demons, shady grimoires and stuff like that, so it wasn't completely normal house for normal members of society.

At school I was known as the weird kid. You know, the type that is kinda fun, but nobody really talks to and they are always alone. Not that I minded that, being alone is preferable. I was far from prodigy in my studies, usually slipping by with C's and B's, better at math than languages, best at history (hey, it's cool, don't judge), but nothing too serious. Maybe it was like that because of my ADHD, dunno, probably. Yeah, I was kinda hyperactive. Not the most I've seen, but staying focused was (and still kinda is) hard. Good thing I never had dyslexia or some other form of dysgraphy or something. That would be a nightmare. My usual attire consisted of black combat boots, black jeans or cargo pants, black t-shirt (with some cool motive) and a black zip-up hoodie with a large hood and a leather jacket when it was cold. Don't worry, never cut myself on this edge. Metal, remember? As for jewelry, I had a necklace with two crossed torches, dad said it was a symbol of Greek goddess of magic, Hecate. My face was rather plain looking, solid 6/10. Why is my face important in this grimoire containing knowledge of ancient spells and rituals? Because I'm vain and maybe you'd like to draw the greatest mortal sorcerer to ever live or something. Back to my beautifulesness. I was pale, always tired-looking with shoulder-length black hair. Kinda like a vampire. But without the elongated canines. The most distinguishing part were my eyes. Naturally deep purple, it was kinda weird. And some teachers asked me to take out my lenses a couple of times. That was fun to explain. Standing at a formidable 5'0'', I was scrawny and rather weak, but my stamina was good as I regularly attended taekwondo classes. Never really liked them, but dad insisted that I do something after school and it was honestly the best of the bunch.

My journey into the world of gods started as any other day. Woke up at 7 am sharp, showered, got dressed, ate breakfast, went into classes. It was last day before summer break, so any resemblance of order was out the window. School was buzzing with excitement, teachers also stopped giving a damn about anything, so it was mostly a free day. The best kind of days at school. Principal said some paring words about being careful at summer as weather was weird (hurricanes and terrible storms, wonder what that was about), and we were off. I grabbed my suitcase, went on a bus stop and finally started my journey home. Oh yeah, forgot to mention, it was a boarding school. Not gonna spill any names so you won't go around searching for forgotten artifacts or something, but know that it was somewhere near NY. Journey was very boring, but I had this weird feeling of being observed. Oh well, if a pedophile wanted to take me, he would be in for a surprise, as I always carried a army knife. Not the best weapon, but it should be scary enough. The weird feeling didn't stop after I arrived at my stop, nor did it go away when I started heading home. I was pretty sure I saw the same guy behind me 3 times, so I did the best thing that came to my mind, evasive maneuvers. I turned into the nearby alley, knowing well that local alleys were like a maze and losing someone there was not that hard. Couple turns, a hole in a wall and a fence that I jumped over and I was in the clear. Or so I thought. Casting one last look behind me I saw nobody, so I turned and started walking to the exit, when suddenly something appeared in front of me, blocking it.

A dog the size of a small car, a mastiff from the look of it. Pitch black with glowing red eyes, local shadows suddenly seemed darker and longer. And it was growling at me. Casting a quick look to the sides I saw no means of escape, and the wall that I jumped over had no boxes on this side.

- Who's a good boy, you are a good boy! Now please go away! - I started talking to the dog, slowly taking my knife out. Growling got even louder, and the beast looked like it would jump at me any second now. Seemed like I would test which religion was true very soon. It jumped! Faster that I predicted! I only had time to process that it was coming when it crashed into me. On the instinct I put my arm in front of my face, and that probably saved my life, as instantly I felt pain when dog bit into it. My other arm was free so I started stabbing where I hoped was its head and kicked it, trying to get it of me. It was heavy and it seemed like my attacks were only making it angrier. I heard a sickening crunch and pain that I never felt radiated from my arm. I screamed like a lunatic.

- So this is it... - I thought, after all what else could I do, bleed on the beast? - Fuck, I never got laid. I don't wanna die a virgin! - Priorities, I know. I started losing consciousness, my attacks getting slower and slower and my vision darker. When I was on the verge of blacking out, I heard shouting and was it a sound of metal rubbing on metal? I knew no more.

AN: So, that's it, the first chapter. Feel free to bash me for anything, it's probably rushed as fuck, I know. Remember to review, maybe follow? That would be nice. See ya on the next one, Siarampoo out.