(Numero Uno)



As far as Stacy knew, she wasn't afraid of anything. Many kids have bullied her, but with only one glimpse at her eyes, those bullies had let her be till maybe eternity.
And nobody ever bosses around Stacy. Not even her parents.
Stacy's mother had supposedly died from heart cancer. Her father still hadn't recovered from her death, but Stacy didn't care; she wasn't scared of death.
She could've stared death square in the face and force it to give her mother a few more years to live, but Stacy had been young then, and a two-year-old couldn't put up with all that drama.
Now Stacy's father (Mister Adams) was a very successful businessman. He owned a popular oil company called Shell, and a lot of money, too.
Since Mrs. Adams' death, Mister Adams couldn't stand seeing Stacy upset. To him, Stacy was like a living replica of his late wife, and he couldn't afford causing any harm to her.
So, as a multi-billionaire, Mr. Adams had turned his daughter into a snotty, spoiled brat.
The Adamses had lived in a mansion in the country of England. Mr. Adams was well-known throughout the entire continent, so not only did he have financial power, but he had political and economic power as well.
But that would all change when the Adamses have a mysterious visitor appear at their door the next day.

I know it's short, but I just needed to add an introduction. So please comment! This is my first time writing a forum here, and I really need some advice.

Hey Sounds GREAT!and will you check out my forum just folow the link link

C'mon, people. I need only two more comments before I post chapter two.

It's cool, but the chapters (or are they parts?) are so short! It's like so good then it stops....:0
Keep posting :)

Sorry. I said it was an introduction. But long chapters are coming. And thanks for commenting!

I only need one more comment! If you want me to write another chapter then comment! LOL

Your story is awesome! I am addicted. Just make the chapters longer, okay?

Thanks for commenting! I need one more comment, then I will post another longer chapter! and I support spam.

(Chapter Two)



Patrick loved playing soccer (or football in Brazil). It was Brazil's national sport, and Patrick's best (and only) sport.
Patrick loved all the soccer players, but as a citizen of Brazil, Brazil was his favorite team.
But Brazil had gone down the charts. Other teams had surpassed them; Argentina, England, Netherlands. But that would all change. Yes, Patrick had always dreamed of becoming a professional soccer team; to play in the same team as Ronaldinho. But sadly, Pat would never reach that dream.
He had been called to do something a thousand times greater than kicking a ball around. He wasn't even meant to live in Brazil. But for now, Brazil was his home, and only fate and time itself could change that.

"Patrick, come help me with the laundry!"
That was Patrick's mom. She was outside folding the wet clothes over the laundryline that had been tied between two short cedar trees.
In Brazil, trees were a sense of good fortune. But not to the Peralezs. Patrick's grandparents had both died in the same area where the two cedar trees grew.
And for that, Patrick hated the trees. When a body decays, it is turned into nutrients for whatever plant feeds on it.
And those plants were the two cedar trees with a laundryline tied between them.

Patrick ran outside from his adobe house. They didn't have a door (just an opening carved out from the dried mud/adobe brick).
Patrick ran over to his mother an greeted her. She bent down and gave him a big bear hug.
"How is my little boy doing?" his mom asked, ruffling his black, curly hair.
"Nada, mother."
Patrick grabbed some wet undershirts and hung them alongside some of his socks. Poverty was very harsh around these parts, but Patrick didn't mind.
But his mom did.
She always had a distant look in her eyes every time Pat met with her in the morning.
"One day, you will be someone great and wealthy," she had said, giving him an enormous bearhug.
But Partick already felt like great and wealthy. But little did he know, that wasn't what fate had prepared for him.
Patrick had a very important role to play in the future, and today, that important role will start now.

Patrick paused. He lifted his head to the air and took a big whiff. Yes, he did smell something.
He turned to his mother. She had back turned to him, and she had a bundle of dried clothes in her arms.
But Patrick was sure he smelled something. He could feel it, too. A certain warmth that was drawing him up a nearby hill.
And then he saw it.
Fire. It was like a tidal wave, consuming everything in its path. People were flailing around wildly. Animals had gone astray. Even the plants and crops were ablaze.
But the fire didn't stop. It was greedy; and it was coming in Pat's direction.
Patrick had to tell his mother. But the fire was moving faster now; it was now a few feet away from Patrick.
Patrick turned and began to run down the hill, but the fire was faster. It pushed him over, as if he had been hit by a train.
But surprisingly Patrick didn't feel any pain. Wasn't fire supposed to hurt?
Patrick looked at his hands disapprovingly. Was he dead?
And then he heard the screams of his mother. She was rolling on the floor, encased in a red burning blanket of flames.
Patrick tried to run to her, but the smoke was too thick now. The fire might not have hurt; the smoke did. It clogged into his lungs like a sponge and drained all his oxygen.
Patrick spun dizzily in circles and then fell down flat. The pain was slow, but sharp.
Then the sleep came.

How's that for a long chapter? Please comment! I only need three comments!

oh okay sorry you said numero uno so I thought that was chapter one
anyway great! post soon.

This story is great! post soon

hmmmmmmmmm ok. its awesome

-Ice

Kewl story dude :)

Thanks, Ice and Leo for commenting! (@TheIceDemigod): I know it may suck for now, but I guarantee you that it will get better. But Thanks for posting! I only need two more comments then I will add another chapter.

Okay, if you like this story then go on the new club called the Fanfic to read more.

I Love it!! awesome and sorry I didn't comment earlier I got a little busy I love it so far and I can't wait till the next chappie and what does your comment above mean??? ARE YOU NOT POSTING!!!!!? NOOOO POST PLEASE I NEED TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Oh how old are they?

(@percyRox_): I have read your story. It is awesome.
(@TheIceDemigod): Of course, this story is awesome. And I am happy that you noticed that.
(@_Leo_Fire_): Thanks, Leo. LOL. And I think cool is spelled this way. <--
(@GreekRULES515): Sorry, I will keep posting. And the kids are thirteen and fourteen.

(Chapter Three)



Patrick Oliviera opened his eyes. It hurt a lot, and it took a lot of effort to do so.
His face was wet for some reason, as if he had dipped his head in the little pond that was a feet away from him.
He looked around. There was at least thirty people crowded around him, their eyes wide with surprise.
A boy that was a few years older than he was rustled through the crowd.
"Ah, there he is," he said, pointing at me.
A blonde girl had accompanied him. They were holding hands, which hinted that they must've had a tight relationship. But Patrick didn't ask.
"Who is he, Seaweed Brain?" Blondie asked.
"I don't know," Seaweed replied. "He had washed up on the shore this morning. I thought he was dead, so I gave him some ambro - "
Patrick's head perked up. "Wait, what?! W-where's my mom? I need to find my mom! Where is she!"
Patrick started to get agressive. He got to his feet and pushed Blondie out of the way.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Seaweed rushed over to Blondie and helped pick her. "Don't mess with my girl that way."
"Your girl?" Patrick spat. "Who cares. Move over or else you want me to..."
"To what?"
Blondie touched Seaweed's arm. "Percy, don't."
Percy looked down at her with sympathetic eyes. "Sorry, Annabeth. But if I have to teach this newcomer a lesson, then I will."
With that, Pat pushed Percy aside. It had been meant to be a friendly push, but Percy had flown ten feet away before landing in the middle of the pond.
"Oh, that's it." Percy rolled back his sleeves. Surprisingly, he wasn't wet. He stormed toward Patrick with fury burning in his eyes.
Annabeth tried to block his path, but Percy reluctantly got her to back off.
Throughout his life, Patrick's mother had always told him to never fear anything. So he wouldn't let a little sixteen-year-old boy get in his way.
Patrick opened his hands. He felt tingly. He looked at his reflection in the pond.
But that had been a mistake.
Percy was fast. He bounded across the pond, pulled out a black ballpoint pen, and uncapped it.
The sword miraculously transformed into a three-foot-long bronze sword. Patrick didn't know how he knew that, but it came to him like a faint memory.
Percy tried to slice Pat in half, but it was a failed attempt. A glowing force field encased Patrick, causing Percy's sword to ricochet to one direction, and Percy to ricochet to the other.
Annabeth caught him - or they sort of crashed into each other - and they both fell into the pond.
The ducks swam away, obviously scared of Percy's ugly face.
Patrick disregarded the force field, and it eventually died out, as if it was never there.
He reached out his hand and caught Percy's sword.
"Anaklusmus," Patrick scoffed, examining the crastswork.
Percy's eyes widened. "How'd you?"
The sword disappeared from Pat's hands.
Percy smiled, and reached into his pockets, later pulling out a ballpoint pen.
"Gotcha," he mused.
Patrick frowned. He knew that he and Percy were not going to get along well.
Suddenly, a conch horn was sounded. All the other people walked away, save Percy and Annabeth.
"Goodbye, newcomer," Percy snarled, and bumped shoulders with Patrick.
Patrick tripped him in return.
"Uh, Perce," Annabeth said, "we should get going."
Percy gave Patrick one last mean look. "Sure. Whatever."

Your story is epic. Post soon!

And I like the drama. Patrick and Percy both hate each other. That's awesome. I always make my main characters to have a grudge against Percy. Post soon!

Okay Percy is not that mean....I'm sorry but I didn't like that....its was good...but I didn't like Percy's behavior plus he DOES NOT talk like that .....my girl? Seriously I'm not trying to be harsh it was AWESOME just I don't like how Percy kinda lost the fight and was a bully I'm fond of him so I kinda defensive please don't make him like that

Yeah, I agree with GreekRULES.

Post soon, though!

Nice job keep on posting go percy

i like it!! please post soon!

(@GreekRULES): Sorry about that. Don't worry, I'll change Percy back.
(@MisterPerfect1): I'm about to post.
(@Kaity_daAwesome): Thanks for the comment! You are awesome!
(@RickJackson): Thanks for commenting. And I love your name. Very original.

Chapter Four
(OCTAVIAN)



Octavian had seen the griffin - half-lion; half-eagle - swoop down into the camp. In mythology, a griffin symbolized the sun, or the rising of a new hero.
But who was this hero?
Octavian and his nosy self just had to know.
There was already a crowd where the griffin had landed. The griffin was no where to be seen. Luckily, it had left behind the boy.
The stupid graecus (Percy) and his blonde companion (Annabeth) were the closest to the boy.
Fortunately, the boy had woken up, and he stoodup, allowing everyone in the crowd to catch a glimpse of him.
Octavian shoved through the crowd. Even theough he had been given many rude looks, Octavian had managed to make it to the front.
He had witnessed the entire fight between the boy and Percy. And when everyone had left, Octavian had walked up to the boy, applauding.
"Bravo, bravo!" he yelled.
The boy looked at him, and then looked away. His feet were tapping the surface of the pond, sending ripples throughout.
Octavian couldn't describe it, but something about the boy made him want to bow down to him. And, of course, that was the last thing that would ever cross Octavian's mind.
But he didn't bow.
Instead, he just patted the boy on the back, and asked of his name.
The boy gave him a murderous look, but eventually complied. "My name is Patrick."
Octavian said, "Patrick what?"
"What does that have to do with you?"
"Just answer my question, you imcompetent little - "
"My name is Patrick Oliviera," said the boy. He had olive-colored skin, and caramel colored hair. His eyes were almost yellow, except with a dab of orange-brown to loosen things up.
But that name. It rang a bell in Octavian's head. He couldn't wait to find out this boy's destiny.
Octavian stretched out his hand. "Get up, Olive Face. You have a lot to learn."

After showing Patrick around Camp Half-Blood, Octavian led him to his own cabin that had been dedicated to him: the Hera cabin.
It was the perfect place for his tribal rituals; always empty, quiet, and peaceful, and, more importantly, graecus-free.
"What is this place?" Pat asked. "And what are you Romans doing here?"
Octavian furrowed his brow in contempt. Graecuses (Greeks) could be very difficult some - most - times.
Finally, he said, "We Roman demigods are coming here for a short meeting. We let the greeks get used to our territory, so we are getting used to theirs. We have already formed an alliance, but we need some getting to know each other time before we head back. Dumb, graecuses."
"Pardon."
"I said DUMB GREEKS! Oh, are Greeks deaf as well?!"
Patrick reeled back.
When Octavian calmed down, PAtrick asked,"So what are these altars for?"
Octavian ignored the question. "Give me an offering."
"Uhh...?" Patrick said.
"Just give me anything you have!"
Patrick reached into his pocket and pulled out a raggedy old hand-seized teddy bear.
"That will do." Octavian grabbed the stuffed animal with disgust written all over his face. He dropped it in a large bowl near the seemingly biggest altar in the cabin.
The bowl began to glow. And Octavian's eyes seemed to gleam as well.
"Now this is when it gets interesting," he said.

That was ooooooooooooooo-some! Keep going! This story is great!

Okay, people. Zero (Jokester0) only needs two more comments, so start commenting plz.

Ha! He just happens to have a teddy bear hehehehee

Can you post soon? Its been like 16 days. Can you also read my mark of athena? link If you did that would be cool

I. Love. This. Story.

luv the way u write.... but....ur making percy look mean.....