A/N: So this is the first of the 5-8 K words chapters, and it's 8,146 words. Not 10,000, but then again, I don't want it to be.

Edit: I moved a scene from later in the story to right here (with Declan). It will be important later, and I also needed to make this consistent with another story I'm starting.

Thoughts are italic, and emphasized words are as well. If a word is a thought and emphasized, it's normal text.

Chapter 1- Jeanne d' Arc and Declan Ross

Percy's POV

"Wake." It was an order from a female voice, and a hand roughly shook me awake.

I sat up blearily, seeing an about twenty three year-old girl standing there in old-fashioned armor, like something from the time of knights on horseback.

"Follow me." She turned, and strode out the door. Her hair was cut short, and a longsword hung at her waist, "And bring a weapon."

"Which one?"

"Any."

"Umm, okay." I picked out one at random. It was a long handled axe, one sided. From all the know-how that floated around in my head, I knew exactly what to do with it. So what's the point of training?

I followed the woman outside, down a hall, and into a separate room, where there were mats laid out on the floor.

"Take up your stance." she said, drawing her longsword in a two-handed grip, and holding it diagonally across her body.

I held my axe with one hand, also across my body. Once we were both ready, she spoke again, "Attack me."

I lunged forward, bringing my axe down in a brutal vertical chop. The woman, whoever she was, spun to the side, making my blow miss completely, then her sword made a long chop across my leg.

I growled, then spun around, my face heating up. This time, I just ran at her. The woman stayed in place, then thrust out in a stab. I tried to move the shaft of the axe to block, but I was too late, and her weapon pierced all the way through my side.

I screamed in pain, falling to the ground. The woman yanked her sword out of my body, "This bout is over."

Immediately, I didn't hurt anymore. There were no more wounds on my body, and my clothes were fixed as well, "How?"

"You have much to learn." she said, "You know what to do with the weapon you carry, but you do not know when, or how. The knowledge fills your head, but it is not yours. I must train you, for you to take that knowledge as your own, so you may serve the Judges as you must."

"Who are you?" I wondered allowed.

"Jeanne d' Arc, at your service." She bowed, "One of the Proctors who have elected to train the new Proctor when he is chosen."

Jeanne d' Arc? I thought. . . idiot. She's French.

"Should I call you Jeanne or Joan?" I questioned, not knowing what to do.

"Jeanne." Jeanne's eyes light up dangerously, "Never call me Joan. Those Englishmen called me that, and I have no love for the English."

Oh yeah, they're the ones that killed her. Ouch.

"Now, attack me again, but slower. We need to make you remember what to do in each situation." Jeanne instructed.

I charged, but in slow-mo, and brought the axe down with the same speed. Jeanne turned in the same motion, also slowly.

"Stop." Jeanne commanded me, "What do you do next?"

"I don't know." I trying to remember the movements for this particular situation, but there were so many different weapons and moves, that I couldn't find it. There wasn't exactly a search bar for memories.

"Swing your axe up and to the side at me." As soon as Jeanne said those words, something clicked in my head, and I could see the motion.

My axe, which was near to the floor, came upward, diagonally. Jeanne held the hilt with one hand, then put the other on the flat of the blade, and used the blade to catch the shaft of my axe.

"Good. What do you do know?" Jeanne asked me. I knew what to do know, it was coming back to my, like riding a bike. I slid her blade down the shaft of my axe, until it hit the head, then pulled upward. Still in slow-mo, her sword was wrenched out of her hands, and fell to the floor.

"Now, let's try it in real-time." instructed Jeanne. I did the same vertical chop, but a lot faster. Jeanne sidestepped, and I brought the axe to her side. She blocked it in the same way, but when I tried to jerk it up and complete the motion, Jeanne slid her blade out, and cut me superficially in the cheek.

"We will never do the same thing twice. A warrior learns a sequence, then splits it up into moves. You will not learn to hook your opponent's blade, you will learn to chop, spin, then hook the blade. But the knowledge you will gain is how to hook your opponents blade, how to chop, and how to spin." Jeanne admonished, "You will never learn if we keep doing the same thing over and over. Again."

I charged her, but Jeanne made a two-handed slash. I caught it on the haft of my axe, then tried to bring the head down on her, but she sidestepped, and kicked with a metal-booted leg. My own legs moved to slowly and tried to back up, but her boots still tore skin. It stung like Hades.

My axe came horizontally at Jeanne again. This time, she stepped in close so that the shaft of the axe bounced harmlessly off of her armor, then punched me hard in the gut. With a metal-plated hand. I doubled over, gasping and coughing

That metal fist isn't all that different from a hammer.

"Better." Jeanne said as I got up, "Again."

This'll be a long day. . .

Time Skip: 7 Days (1 Week)

Percy's POV

"Proctor. Your first mission is to kill this man." A Judge, I couldn't tell who, said, and laid a hand on my head. A series of images and memories were suddenly implanted, "John Pope."

"Kill? I though this was something about judging?" I asked, startled, looking up.

"After you kill him, his soul comes down here, where the Judges cast him where they will." Jeanne explained, whispering in my ear, "It is not your place to question. Obey the Judges."

I nodded. In this week, I learned how to use a flail besides the axe I carried, and could shadow-travel successfully about a fourth of the time.

"Then go. Your Stygian Iron blades will effect them, unlike Celestial Bronze or Imperial Gold." The Judge ordered. I nodded, then sprinted into the shadows. Fortunately, I didn't bounce off, instead re-appearing in downtown Massachusetts. I leaned up against the wall I came out of, gasping for breath as I tried to stay awake. After a few minutes, my breathing steadied, and I could start walking again.

The shadier side of the town loomed in front of me, where everything was more run-down and some were even empty. I climbed up one building, using the vantage point on the rooftop to look around. Surprisingly, the abandoned theatre was only a few blocks away. It seemed almost too easy.

About fifteen minutes later, I was standing in front of the cinema. The glass on the doors was completely shattered and debris was thrown about on the inside.

"Turn aroun' an' walk away, punk, an' ya migh' live." I could hear someone right behind me, and felt a prick in the back. A knife, of course.

I spun, snapping my elbow into his nose and grabbed his knife hand, plunging it into his heart. The actions were automatic, driven from memories I had. I just killed a mortal. It was so. . . easy.

The thought frightened me, but I pushed through the door anyways. There were a bunch of people on the stage, all drinking heavily. Among them, I saw shoulder-length brown hair and whiskers of a mustache/beard. John Pope, my target. No one had noticed me, so I stalked forward in the shadows.

I was only a meter from the stage when they noticed me. "Hey! Who're you?"

I though about a one-liner, but decided against that, and sprinted up on the stage. My axe got embedded in the closest gang member's throat and I ripped it out, killing him. A big guy, ripped with muscles and tattoos, swung a bat with a clumsy blow at me. It bounced off my weapon's shaft, then I kicked him in the leg and moved on. A woman punched me in the back, but with no style or real strength. Spinning around, I drew a knife with my left hand, and plunged it into her shoulder. She was also out of the fight.

That left three men, including Pope. Who were all drunk. I stabbed the first in the gut with the blunt end of my axe, and the second man met the head in a bloody union. Pope scrambled backwards, drawing a revolver and pointed it at me. He tripped, though, and fell onto his back. The revolver flew out of his hand and left him without a weapon. I calmly strode up and slit his jugular with the same knife I embedded in the woman's shoulder. He was all but dead now, and I left the two gang members who were still alive lying on the floor, bleeding.

My job is done here, I guess.

Most of the theatre was in shadow, so I ran at one shadow in particular. It didn't work this time, and I ran into the wall. I shook my head, focused, and tired again. No dice. Gritting my teeth, I lunged forward, then went into the darkness until I stumbled out of a wall. Jeanne d' Arc was right in front of me, and I slammed into her, too. She was, of course, wearing armor, so it hurt even more than running into a wall. At least, unlike a wall, she fell over.

"Did you kill him?" Jeanne asked, after climbing to her feet.

"Yeah." I replied, "It felt so easy, though. It was easy to kill a mortal."

"As it will always be." Jeanne put a hand on my shoulder, "It is the simple act of killing, just like a monster. Once you earn the Sword, you will learn that death does not harm your soul, if it is done by necessity or justice."

I sighed, "I guess you're right. I was wondering, what if I faced an opponent with two weapons, when I only have one?"

Jeanne looked at me, "I'm not supposed to give you these yet, but I feel you will use them well. Come with me."

I followed her to the other side of the room, where she took out a pair of metal half-cylinders, that looked shaped to fit a fore-arm.

"Put these on." Jeanne instructed. They had buckles on the underside, so I pulled them tight on my forearm. They weren't gauntlets, but I didn't remember what they were.

"What pieces of armor are these?" Jeanne asked, quizzing me.

I shrugged, "I don't know. Forearm shields?"

Jeanne sighed, "Vambrances."

"Oh, right. I knew that." They looked a lot less cool then they did in Assassin's Creed, and they didn't have any hidden blades. Whatever. I have plenty of other weapons.

"Put your axe away and defend yourself." instructed Jeanne. I slid the shaft of the axe into a narrow cylinder on my back and stood with my hands out.

Jeanne slashed with her longsword, lunging forward tried to time the block perfectly, but I was too slow and received a cut on my arm as a result.

"You have to do better than that. Do not try to get the timing perfect yet. Learn how first, then expand on that." Jeanne ordered.

She swung again, but this time I started moving my arm a lot earlier, and her sword clanged off my vambrances. Hey, that actually worked!

Sometime during the rest of the day, I realized I was actually enjoying myself. As a product of all the knowledge the Judges forced into my head, everything was coming naturally. I already knew what to do, I just had to do it.

Like clockwork, I guess. But this clock jams a whole frakkin' lot. And each time it jams, I get hit again.

Eventually, Jeanne called it a night and sent me back to my room, exhausted but contented with my new lot in life.

Time Skip- 7 Days (1 Week)

Percy's POV

In the last week, they had sent me out on one more mission, this one to kill a serial rapist. I did, of course, as the Judges ordered. In the meantime, however, Jeanne was training me with even more weapons. Now that I got into the flow of training, I started to learn faster and faster, sometimes even mastering a weapon in a day. Jeanne was still better then me by a long way, though.

Jeanne stabbed, but I used my weapon, a khopesh, to hook the longsword away. Then I took the advantage and slammed her wrist with the pommel of my sword. Involuntarily, Jeanne's hand opened and the sword clanged on the ground. Jeanne jumped back, and held out her hand, which surprised me. What, she expects the sword to fly into her hands?

The longsword disappeared from the ground, the re-appeared in Jeanne's hands,

"No fair." I complained, "How' you do that?"

"I am a Proctor, albeit a dead one, but we all can control the darkness. Once you earn the Sword, you will understand our powers." Jeanne nodded to me, "Make your weapon shadow-travel into your hand."

Ugg, why does she keep mentioning that "Sword"? She never tells me anything. I raised an eyebrow, then dropped the sword, "Good. Now imagine the sword in your hands. Believe it is there. Force it to be so."

I concentrated, and the sword disappeared from the ground. My aim was a bit off, though, so the sword fell edge first into my palm, opening a nasty gash.

"Maybe with a bit more practice." Jeanne admitted, "But you will get the hang of it. And you will never have to carry your weapons around again. This match is over."

As soon as she said those words, the wound on my palm closed over, "How d'you do that?"

"You say "Match over" or "Practice over." A synonym of those words. Then all your injuries heal, along with your clothes." Jeanne explained, "Do not ask me how it works, for I do not know."

"Umm, okay." I replied, a little awkwardly.

"Good." Jeanne said, "The Judges have another mission for you. This one is harder."

I shadow-traveled up to the Pavilion, where one of the Judges waited. As usual, the hand gripped my skull as the memories transferred. The leader of a smuggling den, getting illegal drugs across the States.

I nodded, and concentrated. My skills at shadow-traveling had gotten a lot better, so now I could pull it off four times out of five. Sure enough, I stumbled out of a shadow in the same location as the picture. No one was here, currently, so I hunkered down in the tree line.

In only a few minutes, a truck drove up and people started jumping out. Seconds later, an identical truck arrived. Why bother with two?

People started crisscrossing between the two, transferring crates of who-knows-what. Then they dragged a few women out of the first truck, and threw them into the second. I burst out of the treeline, drawing my axe in one hand, and the khopesh in my left. The first man fell quickly, his head lopped off while I moved on to the second and third. The fourth man threw a crate at me, so I rolled to the side and ended up on my feet.

My axe got embedded in the fourth guy's shoulder, and the fifth was sliced from shoulder to groin by my khopesh. By my count, that left three. Then a truck's engine rumbled, and the second truck, now full of all the cargo, drove away. I've failed.

Moving quickly, I beheaded the two smugglers I didn't kill earlier, then disappeared into the shadows, re-appearing in the Judging Pavilion. I knelt in front of the Judges. "I have failed."

I could feel them glare through their masks, "Failure is not an option. You must learn that."

One of the Judges reached out and grabbed me by the arm. We both appeared in a room I had never seen before, with a thin man I had never seen before.

"Tie him in. Five lashes." The man grabbed my wrists and tied them to a pole. I was going to be whipped!

I tried to protest, but the Judge tsked in disapproval, "Failure is insufferable, Proctor. For your first time, you get off very lightly. But that will change."

My shirt and leather jacket vanished, leaving my back exposed. The man raised his whip, then cracked it down on my back. Holy Hades, that hurts!

The second lash felt like a long branding iron, and I barely managed not to cry out it pain. I gritted my teeth. If I was gonna get punished, I'll take it like a man.

The third stroke slapped across my back, tearing skin there. It hurt even worse now, but not as much as Tartaurus did, with the swarms of arai. That was the thought my mind clung to when the fourth and fifth lashes struck my back.

"You took it well, Proctor." the Judge said, with a note of respect in his voice, "Return to training."

With that, my clothes re-appeared, and I shadow-traveled back to the training room. Jeanne was standing there with another man, this one wearing Roman style armor. They seemed evenly matched, longsword against gladius and legionary shield.

"Your pupil returns." the man spoke in a deep voice, with an accent I couldn't quite place, "I will take my leave."

With that, he simply disappeared. No shadow-traveling, just gone.

"How did the mission go?" Jeanne asked, turning to me.

"I failed it. Three got away." I replied, my eyes downcast.

"Do not worry, you will not fail too many." Jeanne encouraged, "And you will get adapt to the whippings. The wounds will heal quickly, without scarring."

My back felt like it was on fire, "How long?"

"They will be completely gone in a week." Jeanne smiled, "But the pain will be less with each passing day."

"I guess I'll just have to get used to it, then." I shrugged, then immediately regretted that decision as my back erupted into even more pain.

"Don't try to move your shoulders too much. Besides, this will help one of your problems." Jeanne added, "You always slouch slightly. Keep your head up and your shoulders back."

I straightened, and the cloth from my shirt came off my wounds, "Thanks. That helped."

"Thank me by keeping like that." Jeanne instructed, "Now, I am guessing in that you don't want to fight like this, so we will review several battle stratagems."

And I thought school's over once you died. Heads up, kids, suicide is not the option. School'll haunt you forever.

She led me out of the room, over to another. This room had a table on it, with little blocks. Working quickly, Jeanne arranged them so there were twice as many red blocks as blue blocks.

"What would the outnumbered army do in this situation?" Jeanne questioned me. The map showed several valleys, with cliffs on either side. The red army was advancing through those valleys, while the blue army stood in a field, outnumbered.

"I don't know." I scratched my head, "Get beaten?"

"A good commander is never beaten." Jeanne admonished, "They would retreat if they could, or sell their lives dearly if they could not. What could the blue army do to offset their difference in numbers?"

"I don't know. Retreat and get reinforcements?" I asked.

Jeanne sighed, "Send a force into each ravine and plug it up. The red army would not be able to use their numbers effectively. Since the red and blue armies can only have as many soldiers facing each other as the valley allows, the blue army can limit the number of opponents they face. Do you understand?"

I nodded dutifully, and she changed the board so that the blue far outnumbered the red.

"Now what would happen?"

Percy's POV

For the last two hours, Jeanne taught me about different scenarios, and what commanders should do in each of them.

"Now my head hurts." I groaned, "How do you know so much?"

"Before I became a Proctor, I did a great deal of commanding and advising in the French Army of that time. They believed me as sent from the Christan God, but after my death, I learned I was an ordinary girl." Jeanne grinned, "Then, as I became Proctor, the Judges gave me the knowledge of strategies, which they also gave you. You know them just as well as I do, you just have to remember. Accept the memories as your own, so that you may use them well."

I nodded, then tried to search my memories for military strategy. Like when I learned how to fight with the different weapons, it was slow going at first. Jeanne would explain stuff, then I would remember it. It was tough, and my attention span was never the best to begin with.

I guess I have ADHD to thank for that.

By the end of the day, I was completely worn out from all the thinking and puzzling.

"Sleep now. We will continue tomorrow, and return to combat if you feel ready for it." Jeanne instructed. I was never more grateful to fall asleep.

The next morning, the lashes still hurt, but I couldn't feel any raised skin. My back was still tender, but I could fight without too much discomfort.

"Ah, good. You are feeling moderately better, I hope?" Jeanne asked when I hit the training room.

"What? Oh, yeah, yeah. Thanks for asking." I replied.

"Catch." She tossed a long pole with a blade at the end to me. I caught it in my right hand, then the name came to me. A glaive.

"That is a glaive." Jeanne confirmed, "You use it somewhat like a polearm, but you have more versiality with the blade."

Jeanne held her longsword at the ready, so I swung the glaive downward so the bladed end would hit her. Jeanne, for her part, stepped forward and held her longsword with two hands. My glaive stopped dead in the air, "Now you swing the butt around to hit me in the side."

I did as I was told, slowly bring the shaft against the side of her stomach."Good. Step back. This time, use the end of the shaft to stab me in the thigh or stomach."

Ah, so that's what the pointy end's for.

The glaive had a metal end that helped balance off the weight of the blade, and also gave me another option of attacking. I stabbed down at her thigh, but her weapon came down and knocked it away. The next sequence of moves lined up in my head, so I brought the bladed end on her opposite shoulder. Her longsword somehow intercepted that, too, then she punched me in the gut with a metal-plated fist.

"You know how to use the glaive, if not as well as you need to. But you must remember your hands, feet, elbows, and even your head are weapons. As well as your opponents." Jeanne instructed, "When I strike, you can block with you vambrances as well. You do not have them for decoration."

I nodded, "How do you keep track of all this?"

And how do you fight like that?

"Experience, born from years of fighting. I do not have that much time to train you, but you are a demigod. Your ADHD allows you to keep track of the world around yourself." Jeanne replied, "It does not come easily for anyone. Thus, we train. Again."

My glaive bounced off her longsword again and again, but the punch never came. So instead, while our weapons were locked together, I grabbed her wrist and kicked flat-footed into her knee. Jeanne's leg gave out from under her, pulling us both to the floor. I was on top, and aimed a punch at her face. Jeanne's gauntleted fist caught mine, then her forehead slammed into my nose. My world flashed white as I fell off her, holding my nose and gasping. Di immortals! That frakkin' hurts!

"This bout is over." Jeanne called. Immediately, the pain vanished the my nose was as fine as it always was, "You did well, but if I had a helmet on, my headbutt would have the potential to kill you. Use caution, and find possible outcomes before committing to a course of action. Again."

Jeanne picked up her longsword while I held my glaive at the ready. This time, I'll beat her.

Time Skip- 3 Months

Percy's POV

"The Judges have a mission for you, Proctor." Jeanne said, "Perhaps you will earn the Sword today.

Sword? Again? Pushing that thought out of my ming, I nodded and shadow-traveled up to the Judging Pavilion. The Judges were arguing back and forth for ten minutes before one deigned to acknowledge me.

"Proctor. This is your mission." The usual influx of memories, felt natural now as I've completed more then twenty missions. Of those, I failed another and earn another ten lashes from it.

Without a word, I disappeared. Carlos Whigel, a man started shooting up a school only a few minutes ago. A red-haired man of more then forty years, with a spattering of freckles and a bushy mustache. I appeared in the school, seeing bullet-holes in the walls, and hearing more fire coming from my left. I sprinted off in that direction as the shooting grew louder.

Turning the corner, I saw him shooting through the window into a classroom. Moving quietly and taking my time. After all, he isn't going anywhere. Pity about the children, though. My knife sprouted from his throat, then disappeared as it disappeared back to my hand. Mission complete. If only all of them could be that easy.

I heard some crying from inside of the classroom, and I risked a glance inside. Maybe two dozen kindergärtners, most of them shot, along with their teacher. I felt a bolt of sadness shoot through me that I quickly locked away. Can't feel that, Proctor. Not allowed.

Soon, I was back in the Pavilion. The same Judge was still there.

"Why did you look into the classroom?" The Judge demanded.

"I'm sorry." I replied, my head lowered, "I should've returned immediately."

"Yes. You should have. Three lashes for that, and two more for letting the children see you." The Judge said. Oh, come on. It's not like that did anything.

I took the lashes quietly, having been whipped a more than few times since the first failed mission. I hadn't gotten use to it. But why bother struggling? Nothing will change.

"Return to your training." The Judge ordered, and I disappeared.

Taking up my current weapon, a long dagger like Annabeth's, I was back in the training room.

"Was it a success?" Jeanne asked. She couldn't ask what the mission was, if I killed anybody, or what I did in the mission, just whether I accomplished my objectives.

"Yes, although I messed up slightly, glanced in the wrong place." I rolled my shoulders, the pain from the lashes rippling through my body, then sighed, "Sometimes I think they'd rather have an automaton then a human."

Jeanne chuckled slightly, "The Judges do not wish for a soulless beast. They need to have you completely compliant to them. The sooner you pass the training, the sooner you will be able to use your discretion in certain matters and not be punished."

"You haven't told me that yet." I stated, surprised.

"No, I haven't." Jeanne, in the middle of her statement, lunged forward. I deflected the point of her sword off the blade of my dagger. A tricky move, but I pulled it off. Jeanne's momentum kept carrying her forward, so I snapped my elbow back, catching her nose. Meanwhile, her fist crunched into my side. Darnit, remember to block, idiot. That could've been a knife. And I'd be dead.

Jeanne stepped back and we surveyed each other. Blood ran down from her nose, and at least one of my ribs was cracked. This time, I attacked, charging forward. Jeanne's longsword swung at my left side, but it clanged off my vambrance. I stabbed at the chain-filled gap between her breastplate and leggings, but Jeanne grabbed the blade in her gauntlets. We struggled for a few seconds, then I rammed my forehead into her already broken nose. Jeanne stumbled backwards, and I pressed the advantage. I grabbed her right arm and yanked, forcing the joint in the wrong direction. Then, I kicked her legs out from under her, then rammed Jeanne full strength into the floor.

"Match over." I stated. My cracked rib healed, and Jeanne boosted herself off the floor.

"It is indeed. Congratulations, this is the fifth time you have beaten me, I believe." Jeanne said, looking me up and down, "You are finished with the dagger. Pick your next weapon."

I looked through the racks of weapons, then chose a longsword, making it appear in my hand. Jeanne laughed, "My chosen weapon. Very well."

I rushed forward, slamming my own longsword down. Jeanne blocked, laughing, and kicked me in the gut, throwing me backwards. "Proctor, I am much more skilled with this weapon then you. You cannot go on the offensive against a far superior enemy without knowing a weakness that you may exploit."

I took her advice and held the longsword up, ready to block. Jeanne came at me like a whirlwind, pressing me back. I could barely block all of her strikes, any thought of hitting back going out of my mind. Her sword clanged off my vambrance, the off my sword. Eventually, Jeanne simply beat the weapon out of my hand. She spun while she crouched, her leg catching my and sending me to the ground.

"A fine start." Jeanne stood up and gave me a hand, "But you have much to learn about the longsword."

Declan's POV

"Anything?" I asked hopefully. Clarisse, the other "leader" of Camp Half-Blood, shook her head tiredly.

"Nothing." She replied, "I didn't expect to find anything, either. It's been over a week since Draco died and the punk had it coming, if you ask me."

"And yet," I commented, "We're still looking for the killer."

"He's a demigod. Whoever killed him is a threat." Clarisse replied bluntly, "Anything new happen here?"

Clarisse had taken a few Ares campers to look for a something that killed Draco Lanstead a while back. The tracks disappeared, but Clarisse went in that direction, looking for anything. Meanwhile, I was stuck in Camp, trying to be the leader Annabeth or Percy was. Before Percy decided to blow things up, that is. But they were both gone, and in their absence, Clarisse and I had risen to power. A son of Hecate and a daughter of Ares.

I groaned, "Leo's still missing, the Roman games at the end of summer. Nothing new."

Clarisse raised an eyebrow, obviously not believing me. But that was a headache for another time, "I'm going for a walk."

We were both inside the War Room before I left, heading for the forest. After Leo's discovery of Bunker Nine a bit more then a year ago, people were constantly trying to find more secrets hidden in the forest. Idiots. It's just a forest.

As always, my sword was at my waist, my shield slung over my back. No way I'm gonna be caught defenseless.

The first monster I came across was something with a goat head and goat legs. Not a Satyr, for sure, and not very friendly. My eyes glowed purple for a few seconds as I used my powers as a son of Hecate.

The goat-man spun, raising the stick it was using as a weapon to block a fake strike from an imaginary demigod. While it was distracted, I ran it through contemptuously. An easy kill. I kept going, encountering -and killing- a few more monsters before I tripped and fell down some dark hole.

My sword was still in my hand, though, so I stabbed it in to the wall. It slowed my fall, but I still hit the ground with a heavy thud. The first thing I did was look for a delta, the mark of Daedulus. Luckily, I didn't see one, and started looking for a way out. An opening led off to the side, but I couldn't see very far down it. Call for help, stay here, or go into that creepy cave. Ugg, who am I kidding?

I walked deeper into the darkness, cursing. The Celestial Bronze of my sword was glowing slightly, giving me some light, but it wasn't much. For some reason, there was another light source up ahead. It was a pool of water, but it didn't look ordinary. After all, it's glowing.

At the bottom was a majestic sword. It's blade was Celestial Bronze, Stygian Iron inlaid on either side if the blade with the black metal going up to the point. It was a standard Greek shape, except the pommel was a bit bigger than usual. The hilt itself was as beautiful as the blade: Bronze-colored leather with Stygian Iron thread running into the pommel. The pommel was large-ish, diamond shaped and made of Celestial Bronze. Lastly, what looked like actual diamonds were embedded in the sides.

On an impulse, I reached into the water and grabbed the sword in my right hand. As soon as I took it out of the water, the cave lit up and I felt a tingling in my palm. Passing the sword to my left hand, I glanced down, seeing a black mark on my palm, with a horizontal line and a half-circle above it. Short, wavy lines protruded out from the half-circle, completing the shape. A sunrise? What is this thing?

Somehow, even though we were deep underground, there was a gust of wind, and a spirit appeared. It was wearing a red cloak with a dragon crest. At his side was an empty sheath, and on his head was a golden crown. But it was the dragon crest that really caught my attention. King Arthur.

Not really knowing what to do, I knelt to him, "King."

"You have in your hand a blade I once called Excalibur." King Arthur said, his voice rich and kingly, "Beware, for that is a hungry blade. It will endeavor to use you for it's own purposes."

Excalibur? I thought it was made of steel? "I'm sorry, my lord, but isn't Excalibur made of steel, and not a Greek blade?"

"It is, or rather, can be made of steel. Look upon it, demigod."

I glanced down to see that Excalibur changed to a long, straight, steel blade with a silver crossguard that looked like two Chimera heads spewing fire. It's hilt was still leather, but this time it was leather straps and the pommel was gone. Inscribed on the blade itself was a sentence: Take me up, cast me away. Flipping the blade, I saw the inscription mirrored on the opposite side.

"In any form, the Sword you carry is the Sword of Light, an ancient blade." King Arthur's eyes filled with sorrow, "With that Sword, you control light in all of it's myriad forms, but there is another Sword, the Sword of Fire, and there will always be contention between you. Two others, Water and Shadow, may not always be against you, but you must be wary of their owners."

King Arthur paused, then continued, "An army holding a Sword at it's head is nigh unstoppable, but having great power does not make one invincible. Be wary of a dagger in the night, or a cup poisoned with nightshade. For others will desire this Sword for their own, and those who take it in jealousy lose it just as quickly."

"My lord, how is this blade hungry?"

"It yearns for blood and death. In the beginning, you will quell it's impulses easily, but the more creatures that die by your blade, the more powerful Light will get. Not as in the power it lends you, but the power it uses to influence you." King Arthur's gaze dropped to the floor, "Light, more than Fire or Shadow, which I also owned for a time, was the ruin of me. The Proctor took Shadow, and Mordred did the same with Fire. But I had killed too many with Light, and it controlled me."

With that, he disappeared, leaving me with a powerful weapon and mind full of questions.

Time Skip: Nine Months

Percy's POV

"Twenty-eight." Snap, The whip left another welt across my back, "Twenty-nine."

The thirtieth lash hit my bare back, then the huge man uncuffed me. Minos was watching the whole punishment. "Thirty."

I had just failed another mission, making it six so far out of dozens, "Proctor, you have earned the rest of the day to rest and recover. Tomorrow will be your final mission before your training is complete."

I groaned, somehow getting back to my room and lying face-down on my bed. I fell asleep, dreaming of the mission that put me here.

"Someone's here!" A guard shouted, before a silver arrow sprouted from his throat. The Hunt? Why the frak would they be here?

I jumped down from my perch on top of the building across from my target. Thalia shouted behind me, then an arrow embedded itself into my shoulder. Stumbling, I kept going, kicking in the door before sprinting my way up some stairs. Footsteps pounded after me as the Hunters gave chase. Soon, I was on the same floor as my target, a fat man named Rodriguez.

I charged out the door, turning left. Another arrow struck my in the thigh, but I kept pushing onwards. Rodriguez's office was empty, but the window was open, leading to a fire escape. Frak.

Lunging out the window, I missed the railing and went over the side. Purely through luck, my hand locked onto the railing on another level, slamming me into the wall. Then my grip broke, sending me to the ground.

Silver arrows fell around me, some of them hitting and killing my target, and I thought I was about to die. Then, I disappeared.

"Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon and Proctor of Judgment." I was.. . . . I didn't know where I was. It was a dark plains, with shadowy mountains in the background and a starless night. Facing me were three ancient lades holding yarn and knitting needles. The Fates.

"Yeah?" I managed to get out.

"Your string has not yet been cut." One of them held out a strand of yarn. It was black with strands of blue and sea-green running through it. But, the strange thing was that another strand was wound around it, this one looking like dark blonde hair. The way they were inter woven, it would be impossible to cut one without the other.

The strand that was between that Fates' hands, apparently portraying the present, was alone.

"Your destiny is not over, Perseus Jackson."

"What is my destiny?"

"Not your own." Then, everything disappeared, sending me back to the Judging Pavilion.

"This is the sixth time you have failed a mission. You have allowed the Hunters to interfere." A Judge scorned me. Minos, of course, "Any who get in your way, you get rid of. Monster, demigod, mortal, or immortal."

I bowed, not speaking, "Because of your failure, you will be whipped. Thirty lashes."

I woke just as the first stroke of the whip cracked across my back. My watch said it was four o' clock AM. Time to get up. The last year had been good to me. Muscles rippled across my frame, and now I could shadow-travel the whole day without getting exhausted.

The Pavilion was full of people, so I waited in the background. I sat cross-legged, reviewing different fighting styles and combinations in my head until the crowd cleared.

"Proctor." One of the Judges called. Now, the Pavilion was empty, the gates closed. Unlike previous missions, all three of the Judges were here, "Take this sword, and return it to it's owner. Then bring her down here. But do not force her. Cajole her, convince her, but we will need Zoe Nightshade at our side."

Riptide appeared in front of me, in pen form. Shocked, I picked it up and slid it in my pocket, "Where can I find her?"

"Detroit." The Judge gripped my skull with the other two Judges watching carefully. I saw what the Judges assumed happened: When Atlas had been freed by Luke, he conceived another child with Pleione. After Zoe died, she tried for re-birth. The Judges placed her consciousness in the womb of Pleione instead of someone else. Now, as the demigod daughter of two immortals, she was stuck in foster care. But after several monster attacks on foster families, only the greasiest kinds of people wanted her. As a slave.

I disappeared from the Pavilion, reappearing in front of the apartment where Zoe Nightshade was. At least, I tried to. Instead, I ended up at the other side of the city, in front of an automaton instead of a building.

"We have been ordered by the Judges to prevent you from getting to-," it recited the address, "by any means necessary."

Hmph. This'll be. . . different.

The automaton unsheathed a sword while two others came from either side of me, brandishing spears. All three of them attacked in sync, but I rolled backwards and got to my feet. Crude, but fast. I'll have to fight one at a time until I learn their style.

Lunging to the side, I managed to get all three of them in a line. Summoning a javelin, I cast, but one of the spear-wielding ones knocked it away. I guess I'll call him One, the swordsman Two, and the last spearman Three.

One leapt at me, but I spun, grabbing my axe out of the air. The weapon cleaved downward on Three, but the automaton caught the shaft of the axe on it's spear. Grinning, I wrenched downward. The spear shattered at the axe went through it, then Two's sword cut me high on the cheek. I stepped backwards, eyeing my opponents. Now, Three had it's fists up instead of another weapon. One jumped towards me, trying to run me through, but I knocked his spear away with my vambrance and buried my axe in it's neck. Well, one down, two to go.

Two's sword came in low and to my right, but my leg came up, and the sword clanged off a greave I wore now. Meanwhile, I wrenched my axe out of One's twitching neck, and embedded it in Two's side. Three's punch caught me in the gut, but one metal fist didn't feel too different from another, and I was very used to Jeanne punching me. I grabbed it's neck, then slammed it full-body into Two. Quickly, I recovered my axe and finished them both off.

I headed inward to the city, then saw a huge building loom in front of me. Greektown Casino Hotel. Well, now I feel right at home. I chuckled to myself, then took out a phone.

Directions from Greektown Casino Hotel to Sislon Apartments. Oh, it's not that far. I started jogging, then something heavy fell on me. It was another automaton, this one with a dagger. Fortunately for me, it missed a stab when it landed on me. My arm shot out and grabbed his dagger arm, but as a machine it was far too strong. Wait, if it's a machine, what's it powered by?

Using my legs, I flipped us so that I was on top, then grabbed a bunch of wires and pulled. They sparked as I wrenched them out of place, but nothing happened. The automaton, meanwhile, grabbed my throat and threw my into a nearby wall. Groaning, I got to one knee and held my hand out. Several gallons of water materialized right above the automaton, and crashed down. With a flurry of sparks and popping sound, it fell. Well, that works. Jeanne said not to face an opponent that could be superior unless you know a weakness, and now I do.

This time I exercised more caution and held my axe with one hand as I passed into the more shady section of Detroit. Now I could see a few skinhead groups in alleys, then one was stupid enough to try their luck.

"Hey! Gimme ya' money!" He yelled, "Punk! Gimme ya' money!"

When I didn't reply, he took out a switchblade, then he and his gang came after me. I waited , my axe in hand while they ran at me. The first one had a bat, swinging wildly. It bounced off the shaft of my axe, the I punched him in the jaw. The next was the guy with the switchblade, who wasn't so lucky. My axe was buried in his side while the last two looked at me, then ran away. Mortals. Always making threats that they can't keep.

A few minutes later, I arrived at Silson Apartments, a somewhat run-down building that looked grubby in every sense of the word. I walked inside where an old man stood at a dirty booth.

"I'm looking for a young girl. Zoe Nightshade." I said, holding my axe against his neck, "Tell me where she is, and you'll live."

"Thirty-four B! Third floor! I swear!" The old man replied.

I nodded, then went over to the elevator, pressing the three. A minute later, I climbed out to see long rows of doors on either side. It stank of cigarette smoke, and the walls were stained. Beer bottles littered the place. Room thirty-four B. Where are you?

"Get me more beer, girly!" I heard someone yell. It was coming from the same room the apartment foreman indicated. I waited for a moment longer to hear the "girly's" reply. Some quiet footsteps, then the smack of a fist and a cry of pain. There was no doubt about it: Zoe.

A/N: I think Zoe'll fill an adopted younger sister role more than anything else. And you know how I said last chapter was a prologue? In reality, these first few chapters are.

You know, I've read a few books where Excalibur is the Sword of Water (or Ice) and I keep thinking: This isn't right, do some research. "thenne he drewe his swerd Excalibur, but it was so breyght in his enemyes eyen that it gaf light lyke thirty torchys."- A quote from Le Morte D'Arthur, the compilation of many King Arthur myths/tales.

Please review, I live on feedback (so if you don't review, I die). On the other hand, if you review a lot, I get too fat to rise from my chair, which means the only thing I can do. . . . is write. So, more reviews = more writing.