Prologue

The dense forest whispered with the sound of leaves rustling in the wind. Deep within its heart lay a place that most mortals couldn't see—Camp Half-Blood, a sanctuary for those who were more than human. It was a haven for children who carried the blood of gods, born of both mortal and divine parentage. The camp stood hidden within an enchanted barrier that only those who belonged could cross, protecting demigods from the monsters, Titans, and worse that threatened their existence. But today, the peace of Camp Half-Blood was disrupted by an unexpected presence.

A satyr, his hooves thumping against the forest floor, stumbled through the woods, breathing heavily as he carried a young boy on his back. His name was Lark, a loyal friend to the camp's heroes, and he was used to carrying some sort of immense weight on his shoulders. But this—this was different.

The boy was unconscious, fragile, and small, his body barely clinging to life. Dirt and grime stained his skin, marking the signs of a long, exhausting journey. His features were sharp, almost unnatural. His hair, black as midnight, framed his pale face, and though his amber eyes were closed, there was a fire behind them—a fire Lark could feel, even in the boy's unconscious state.

"Hold on, kid," Lark muttered, pushing his tired legs to move faster. "We're almost there."

As the camp came into view, the shimmer of the magical barrier grew closer. Lark leaped through the gate, feeling the familiar pull of Camp Half-Blood's protective aura settle around him. He could feel the presence of others—demigods, monsters, and even the old gods who had sought refuge here. But today, all eyes turned toward the boy Lark had brought.

"Annabeth!" Lark called urgently, his voice strained. "I need help, now!"

Annabeth Chase, daughter of Athena, was already sprinting toward him. Her sharp mind instantly went into overdrive as her eyes fell on the boy. Her expression shifted from surprise to concern. Without hesitation, she gestured for a couple of nearby campers to assist. Within moments, the boy was carefully laid onto a nearby cot.

"Who is he?" Annabeth asked, kneeling beside the boy. Her brow furrowed as she examined him. There was something off about him—something that didn't feel entirely Greek. She could sense a faint shimmer of something divine, but it wasn't a power she recognized. Something about him was ancient, almost unfamiliar.

Lark shook his head, his breath still ragged. "I don't know. Found him on the outskirts of the forest. He doesn't have any memory of how he got there. Looks like he's been running for a long time."

Annabeth's fingers brushed over the boy's forehead as she studied him. That's when she saw it—the boy's eyes flickered open for a moment, glowing a fiery amber before they closed again. The brief flash of light was enough to send a shiver down her spine.

"We need to get him to Chiron," Annabeth muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "Something's not right."

As if on cue, the boy stirred. His amber-starred eyes opened fully now, their glow fading slightly, and he blinked around, his gaze sharp. He scanned the camp, his eyes landing on Annabeth first, then on Lark, and finally on the growing group of campers who had gathered around.

"Where... am I?" His voice was weak, but there was an undeniable edge to it—one that made everyone near him pause, uncertain whether it was strength or danger beneath the surface.

Annabeth remained calm. "You're at Camp Half-Blood. You're safe. For now."

The boy's expression didn't change, but his eyes focused intently on her. "Safe?" he repeated, almost as if the word itself confused him. "From what?"

Before Annabeth could respond, a deep, rumbling voice interrupted from behind them.

"Let me take a look at him."

It was Chiron, the camp's centaur activities director, stepping forward from the shadows. As a son of Kronos, Chiron had an intimate understanding of the divine and the strange powers that shaped the world. His dark brown eyes met the boy's, narrowing ever so slightly. There was something about this kid that felt off. Something he didn't recognize.

"Bring him to my cabin," Chiron instructed, his voice commanding. "We'll see what we're dealing with."

But as the boy was led away, a strange feeling lingered in the air. A sense of unease, of something not quite right. Whoever this boy was, he wasn't just another demigod. And whatever secret he carried would soon come to light.