I do not own Percy Jackson and the Olympians. This story's setting is in an alternate version of Rick Riordan's masterfully crafted universe. I own nothing but the OC's.

Expect updates to be posted according to MY schedule, not that of the reader's. I do promise to try to avoid making you good people wait too long between updates. So, login or create a fanfic account and smack that follow button to be notified when updates occur.

I intend for chapters not to be exceeding a limit of five thousand words.

A six-year-old boy and an eight-year-old girl were fighting… well, Sparring would be the correct term to use in this situation. With speeds that blurred their figures to the tracking of the naked eye, the two children came to blows while dancing about the ample space of a large training room.

The girl had eyes of flame, forever swirling with all the colors a flame could ever burn with.

The boy had eyes that were as green amber, with a ring of flames around his pupil that mimicked that of his mother.

Both sets of oculi were filled with a blazing determination not to slack or fail to give their all in this battle.

One set was determined to give her all to teach and impart wisdom in both mind and combat to her adopted child.

The other held a fiery motivation to learn and remember as well as master all that his beloved mother could teach him.

The boy's body was already as fit as it could be without becoming unhealthy in his young age, his face was one of the very few things not covered in scar tissue, his mother had healed him with her Olympian blood, but it was not enough to completely remove the damage done to his flesh.

His body had begun functioning correctly within mere months of his adoption, but his mind… it had taken over a year to reach his current mental stability and both he, and his new mother feared it would never properly heal.

Some scars run too deep.

Some nightmares full of remembrance refuse to leave one's soul in peace.

With a war cry the girl spun about to negate his shield's guard, and his swords reach, while a spear spontaneously appeared in a flash of flame for her to take hold and do with as she wished.

She wished to show him the weakness in focusing all one's defense towards his front while ignoring the sides and flank of their own body.

The boy did see what she wished to show him and upon picking himself up from the floor, revealed that he understands by correcting his mistake via the shifting of his posture.

Thus, it was, that the mother and child bound by oath and blood didst continue to train.

The mother, relishing in imparting the wisdom of battle to one day preserve her son's life in combat.

The child in knowing that every lesson further enabled him to complete his self-set goal in life, to spare others a fate such as his had nearly been.

So, the lessons did continue… but due to the gold blood each of them held within, they did not succumb to exhaustion but remained in their respective roles as master and student.

In a forest fair a pair didst run, a warmth of home left in their wake. With bows ready and arrows set, bearing flickering flames that did not consume, the pair traveled ever deeper into the wood.

As the shifting shadows cast by a campfire were they, an ageless woman of fiery beauty and a boy of mere eight winters didst stealth through the wood.

Seeking prey were they, and not just any creature would do.

Whispers of the ageless woman transferred the many things she knew of the forest they tread to the boy, who absorbed it like a man parched for the waters of knowledge and wisdom.

The morals of "when hunting make sure to leave the mated pair with young to care for alone, they're harvest times are not until the young are grown and gone."

And the knowledge of "that plant is edible but that one next to it is not" were passed from the elder mind to the younger in large quantity.

Thus, it was that the pair reached the edge of a clearing, a clearing filled with unnatural shadows.

Shadows in the shape of great beasts with red eyes that blazed with dark intelligence.

With steady and calming hands, the mother in her elder form with ageless beauty didst guide the hand and movements of the son.

Whispering weak points and strategy for aiming and anticipating the results of igniting combat with the Hounds of Hell that prowled about before them. She guides his hand to draw back the bow, bearing an arrow silently wreathed with their combined flames. Flames that didst gain intensity as she helped perfect his stance in preparation for the kill.

With a silent prayer, the mother hoped beyond hope that Athena's curse held no sway on her child after she claimed him… she was about to find out.

With deadly accuracy the arrow was leased, a hellhound is slain, and a boy had just intentionally killed his first monstrous being.

With barks of hatred the rest of the pack turned and charged at the now revealed pair.

The mother drew her bow and joined her child in combat, both of them projecting an aura of utter surety.

A surety that none of the beasts would live.

Child born in the union of a minor immortal being and mortal man fled for her life, for on the run she had been. Fatherless and to her knowledge motherless nearly the last two months, she had met first the dangers of the mortal realm, and then the risks of a world she inherited from her mothers' blood.

The child was only seven years old, but she knew she was different.

And knowledge such as that draws attention from beings girls like herself should definitely avoid at all costs.

Her scent had grown.

Her stench had reached the noses of three hounds of hell and drifted to the awareness of a pair of one-eyed ones.

Even attracted the attention of a minor lizard woman.

Such was her poor rotten luck. She had wisely fled, but the would-be feeders had pursued and tracked her into the Central Park of New York from the sewers where she had been so desperately hiding.

She found herself without a weapon, facing down the five monstrous beings who wanted her flesh and the destruction of her soul.

Her power was weak and not meant for combat, her body was weak and malnourished, her mind was tired from running, but her spirit was yet unbroken, and her will was still strong.

Surrounded, she turned towards a black shadowed dog and attacked.

She never even got her first and last punch in, within the blink of an eye she was on her back and staring into the cavernous maw of a hellhound intent on devouring her whole.

In the midst of her terrified scream, the hellhound exploded into dust, the only hint as to the cause being a trail of flame left by an arrow made of wood that did not burn, having passed through the creature's entirety and embedded itself into a tree behind it.

Gasping for air all the girl could do was watch as a figure cloaked in dark mottled colors quickly dispatched each of the monsters with bow and knife.

The last image she sees before passing out from exhaustion is the boy approaching her with a shadowed face, the cloak revealing not but his amber, green flaming eyes.

Percy had set up a small camp for the wounded girl; she had yet to recover her consciousness. In her exhausted slumber, he had gently fed her the food of the Olympians, healing her minor wounds and alleviating some of her malnourishment.

There was not much else he could do.

The small fire of the camp grew in ferocity for a moment, letting him know that his remaining time there was short.

Others would care for this child for the long term.

Others that would not tolerate his presence.

Standing slowly, he took a small necklace from his pocket… it bore a green amber stone, its insides reflecting the firelight.

Looking up towards the skies Percy scowled, his eyes could see through the charms in place. His blessed eyes could see the floating city hidden above. A city meant to be alert, a city that had been somewhat if not wholly on some level or other aware of this girls plight.

A city that had ignored her, and countless other lost ones throughout the centuries.

Percy decided he did not like what that city had become, what it now represented… and he knew that his mother had come to this conclusion some time ago as well.

Looking back down to the green amber stone on the necklace he now held, the nine-year-old child clenched his fist around it in resolve.

Approaching the girl, the first one he had ever saved, and he hoped her the first of many. He knelt and gently placed the necklace about her neck, the green amber stone flaring with beauty in the firelight.

These stones were to become his mark, his signet, his warning.

Those that wore them were to be under his protection.

Wo to those that dared slay an innocent gifted one by his hand. For they would be cursed and he would hunt them to the ends of eternity.

His vigil over the girl done, the boy faded into the forest, his task completed. His last look only cast to confirm the arrival of girls wearing silver, girls that woke his former charge and took her to be cared for.

The hunters of Artemis would search for two days, hunting clues as to the one who had interfered on their newest member's behalf.

They would find nothing… nothing except the necklace of green amber the now youngest hunter wore.

(Authors note)

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this is BaronVonOrator Signing Off!