Partita

"This is where they last saw him right?" asked Annabeth, her eyebrows taut with worry.

"That's what Octavian said." Percy replied. "He said him and a legion had come across the satyr a few days ago, walking into this dark passage."

"Why didn't they follow him?" To this question, Percy gave a terse shrug. He had no idea why the legion, normally so courageous, didn't investigate the matter further. Only two weeks ago, Juniper had come crying into Camp Half-Blood saying that Grover was missing. Streaming with tears, her hair in a complete mess, she begged them for help. He and Annabeth, at that time already married, had originally planned to be there for just a day, but when they saw the distraught wood nymph, they couldn't resist helping. And so for the next two weeks, they asked anyone they could find, but no one had seen the satyr…until Octavian of Camp Jupiter iris messaged them a few hours ago letting them know they had found him here, in San Francisco, in this dark, abandoned passageway.

The passageway looked suspicious. Filled with darkness, it looked as if it was quite deep and narrow. Only just a few years ago, Percy would have immediately classified it as a monster den, but after the fall of Gaia, every monster had been sent back to Tartarus. However, years of habit stuck with him, and he decided to uncap Riptide as a precaution.

Percy held out his hand. Smiling, Annabeth grasped his hand tightly and together, they walked into the cave. She pulled out a flashlight and turned it on, its bright light illuminating a small circle in the darkness.

"Eww. The cave smells terrible," Percy complained, snorting out of his nose in an attempt to get rid of the smell. "What used to live here – trolls?"

Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Seaweed-brain, trolls don't exist anymore. C'mon, let's hurry up and see what we can find and get out of this place."

After a few winding paths, the cave then opened up to reveal an abandoned metro station. Looking around, Percy could make out ticket booths, posters, and quite a bit of rubble piled along the sides. The train itself was still there, sitting in the middle like a sausage in a hot dog. Annabeth, however, immediately saw something else.

"What's that inside the train?" She sprinted forward, hopping into the train with her flashlight in hand. Percy followed her, his eyes darting around for any signs of trouble. Inside the train, they saw blood, red as cranberries, splattered across the walls. But what was most disconcerting was the figure pinned to the end. Grover, the satyr, was dead. Someone had pinned his hooves to the corners and stripped him, almost like a crucifixion, with his eyes staring blankly forward. It was disgusting, and Percy couldn't help but take a few steps backward, feeling himself retch inwardly.

"How could they do this?" Tears brimmed in the eyes of Annabeth as she too staggered backwards, horrified. "What did Grover ever do to them? He was a peaceful satyr—"

All of a sudden, her words were cut short. The train doors closed with a whoosh, leaving Annabeth alone. In the train.

"Annabeth!" Percy roared, running forward. Raising his blade, he tried to cut the door open…but for some strange reason the blade wouldn't go through. But that wasn't the least of his concerns. With a screeching sound, the train began to move…at first slowly, but then picking up like a bullet. Percy screamed. He leapt forward, intending to hold on to the train, but the train was smooth and moving too fast. He slammed into the side, flipped on his back, and landed on the side in pain. And through his eyes, he could see the train depart, its destination unknown. Annabeth…was gone.

Octavian – 4.5 months before

Octavian was having a most peculiar day.

For one thing, his dream today was actually good. Fantastic In his dream, Jason had been slain by a spear, and a tearful Reyna came up to him in evident distress. He had comforted her, and she was so distraught that he had even managed to kiss her.

Looking back on it though, he knew that sadly, Reyna kissing him was about as likely to happen as Poseidon killing a dolphin. And yet when he woke up in his silk sheets, when he pulled himself out of bed and gave a tremendous yawn, he saw something just as impossible: a complex lattice of interwoven red marks on his hand, shining a bright neon red. Naturally, since he had no memory of getting a tattoo on his hand, he sat there for a few minutes gaping in stark disbelief. After confirming that he wasn't dreaming, he hurried his fat self over to the bathroom and got to work.

Soap didn't work. Neither did a razor. Octavian, being an experienced mage, even tried some spells of banishment, including a particularly nasty one that would've vaporized a person. That didn't work too. And it was in the confused state where a black hooded man snuck up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to jump out of his pants.

"Yes?!" Octavian exclaimed, his pudgy face making a pig-like confused expression.

And after an hour of explanation, Octavian learned that the red mark meant he was part of some war, that he was representing his Dad Apollo – quite surprising really, since his Dad always regarded him as a failure – and that the winner would have a prize, any prize that they desired.

Octavian was a greedy man, and as soon as he heard of this magical prize, his eyes widened. He already had wealth – shrewd investments and the exploitation of his coworkers saw to that; he already had fame – he was a household name and had celebrities party at his place every week; but what he didn't have was love. Specifically, Reyna. Despite being able to literally buy any woman into a marriage with him, he was always rebuffed coldly by Reyna every time he asked her to a date or over to his house. In fact, she disliked him so much that she even rejected all of his Facebook friend requests. Octavian, being the calculating person he was, put two and two together and blamed Jason for everything. Jason had stolen all of the credit of defeating Gaia. Jason had stolen his right to be the leader of Camp Jupiter. And now, Jason had even stolen Reyna away from him. He was furious, and one of his most important goals in life was to beat Jason at one thing, anything, no matter the cost.

Yet now all of this was possible with the magic of the Holy Grail.

Judal – a few years before

Everything went downhill when his parents died in a car crash.

At first, the words had no meaning. "Your parents have died in a car crash, kiddo," a police officer said. "I'm sorry. You'll probably be going to an orphanage, it doesn't seem like you have any close relatives."

Judal, just five at the time, thought to himself, "What's a car crash?" He had no idea that at just five years of age, he was left parentless. Nor had he any idea of the hell that was soon to come.

At the orphanage, Judal just didn't get along. Others never seemed to come close to him, and he was left friendless and alone all the time. Teachers and peers kept their distance from this young boy, and as a result he lived his first few years always away from others. He had his own bed, a few rags along the floor, in the corner of a closet, far away from the room the other kids shared. During lunch, he would take his food elsewhere and eat it alone. But he was a polite boy, and the plate was always brought back, spotless and clean, and handed nicely back to the "food lady".

Perhaps it was his inability to cry that frightened the other children. Normally, after the first night at the orphanage, most children ended up crying all night, wondering with tearful eyes what fate had in store for them, knowing that they were left alone in this hard, cruel world. Judal never made a sound.

Perhaps it was his voice that frightened the other children. Other children had voices filled with their emotion – high pitched voices when they were happy or excited, long dragged out voices when they were upset, or choking voices when they were having a tantrum. Judal always spoke in a monotone, his voice flat and devoid of all human emotion.

Yet all of this was bearable. The people working at the orphanage truly were nice people, and sensing that Judal wanted to be left alone, they wisely left him to his own thoughts. However, everything changed when the doctor arrived.

"Judal?" The lady called to him. "Doctor Leach has arrived. He's here for your checkup."

With his usual impassive expression, Judal walked slowly over to the tall figure in the doorway. He was in his usual place – the spacious closet where he liked to look at books or imagine out games in his head or sometimes even look at other kids play – but this was a first for him, to be called out to do something. Secretly, he was excited.

"Judal?" The doctor said, smiling and extending a hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Yet as Judal brought his own hand out, he could sense that something was wrong with this man. Every single fiber in his body was screaming out loud for him to get away from this man, that he was dangerous, that he needed to get away. And so he obeyed his intuition and quickly pulled his hand back.

"A little feisty eh?" The doctor said. "He clearly needs some treatment. You said he has problems with other children?"

"Well, kind of…" The lady responded. "It was just a passing comment; I'm sure he doesn't need – "

"Young kids need to be fixed early, else the problem could be permanent," The doctor replied, the ends of his lips curling upwards. "I'll take him with me. Give me a week to do therapy on him; I guarantee he'll be better."

A week passed, and Judal returned to the orphanage. The lady was immediately set at ease by how Judal immediately began to talk with other children, to interact with others, and how he moved his sleeping rags over to the others. The therapy was pronounced to be a huge success, and Doctor Leach became a celebrity overnight.

But that night, Judal did not sleep easily. Instead, before he succumbed to sleep, he swore one thing.

That he would kill Doctor Leach and make him pay.

Arcturus – 4 months before

"A Holy Grail you say?" Arcturus asked, smiling. "Seems like it would be interesting."

Out of all the people the hooded man had met so far to inform them of their selection by the Grail, this man scared him the most. He was a retired doctor who had a smile like a shark, with rows of canine teeth and eyes resembling two red slits. Thin and pale, his sallow skin looked bleached and unhealthy, almost like a recluse who never went outside. But what was most uncomfortable was his smiling. "My God," the hooded man thought. "Does he ever stop smiling?"

Arcturus paced the floor of his mansion, deep in thought. What confused him the most was why he, someone who had everything in life and could do whatever he wanted with impunity, was given a chance to get the Grail. He chuckled slowly. "Maybe this is a sign from the Gods that what I've been doing thus far with my life is a good thing," He thought to himself.

"You said I needed a relic?" He asked the hooded man.

"A relic is required to summon the legendary hero. In exactly a month from now, on the last day of August, you will be able to summon your familiar to assist you in this war."

"A relic eh…" Arcturus' voice faded off as he looked around his gloomy mansion. It was a beautiful mansion, dark with a Victorian flair, that was lavishly decorated with all sorts of paintings and artifacts. And a bunch of these artifacts could surely be used for summoning a hero – a cloak that was said to have belonged to Joan of Arc, a spear that was possessed by a knight named Diarmuid, even a shuriken that belonged to a ninja – but Arcturus had in mind something far more sinister. His eyes landed on a piece of wood shaped like an arrow. "Yes, I have a perfect one in mind…"

A/N: Thank for reading the second chapter on my story, Partita. The plot thickens! By now, every single one of the participants of the Second Holy Grail War has been revealed and so next chapter likely will be the summoning of the heroic spirits. Don't hesitate to leave a review – I appreciate all feedback, negative or positive. :D