One

The Great Prophecy was set into motion in the Summer of 2005.

I'm not joking. But, this Summer was considered fun. If your version of fun matches up to mine. Which is getting sent on a quest and nearly dying thousand times over. If so, this Summer would be a blast for you.

Yeah, no. It was not fun. It was probably one of the most dangerous- you know what? Forget that part. It was the worst quest I had ever gone on at the time. To add insult to injury, it only got worse.

It all began when Annabeth dragged a new camper into Cabin eleven.

The first thing I took note of was that he was... different. I wasn't trying to be rude or anything like that.

"Well?" Annabeth asked the newcomer. "Go on."

The newcomer took a step forward and immediately tripped while coming through the door. A few snickers broke out, and I let myself smile a little. Good to know some things didn't change.

"Percy Jackson, meet Cabin eleven," Annabeth announced.

"Regular or undetermined?" Chris Rodriguez asked. He was a large Hispanic teenage boy with black hair and brown eyes.

The boy, who Annabeth called Percy, seemed to be at a loss for what to say, but Annabeth said, "Undetermined."

A groan echoed through the cabin.

I sighed and stood up. There were times when I hated the system at Camp Half-Blood. Why couldn't there be cohorts? At least then, you didn't have to be claimed to be placed in one. Cabin eleven was slowly running out of space.

"Now, now, campers," I said. "That's what we're here for. Welcome, Percy. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there." I pointed at the spot in question.

"This is Luke," Annabeth introduced to Percy.

I stared at her incredulously. Was she blushing? Then her expression hardened.

"He's your counselor for now," she explained.

"For now?" Percy repeated.

"You're undetermined," I piped up. "We don't know which cabin to put you in, so you're here. Cabin eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our father, is the god of travelers."

"How long will I be staying here?" Percy asked.

"Good question," I admitted. "Until you're determined."

"How long will that take?"

Everyone laughed, and I gave him a forced smile.

Annabeth grabbed Percy's wrist. "Come on," she said. "I'll show you the Volleyball Court."

"I've already seen it," Percy replied, confusion written all over his face.

"Come on." Annabeth dragged Percy out of the cabin.

I frowned. It was clear that Percy hadn't watched the Orientation Film. What were Chiron and Bacchus thinking? No, wrong pantheon. What were Chiron and Dionysus thinking?

The next thing I went to do was buy (READ: Steal) some toiletries from the Camp Store for Percy. As well as picking up a sleeping bag. When I got back, I found Percy sitting in his spot, holding his Minotaur horn tightly. Smart. Kleptomania seemed to be a recurring trait in children of Hermes and Mercury.

I quietly walked over to him. "Found you a sleeping bag," I informed him. "And here, I stole you some toiletries from the Camp Store.

Percy glanced at me skeptically, as if he wasn't quite sure if I was joking or not. I responded by giving him a big grin.

"Thank," he eventually said.

"No problem." I sat down beside him and leaned against the wall. "Tough first day?"

"I don't belong here," Percy protested. "I don't even believe in gods."

"We all start out that way." I still feel like I don't belong, I wanted to say. Then out loud, "Once you start believing? It doesn't get any easier."

Percy looked at me quizzically, which I soon caught onto.

"It's not like like," I said quickly. "It's just-" I huffed. It was really tiring to explain this to every camper. "It's the monsters. And the brutal training. And the gods that pop into your life every so often 'cause they feel like it."

"Oh, um, so your dad is Hermes?"

I nodded at his not so subtle change of subject. "Yeah."

"The wing-footed messenger guy?"

I snorted. That description was new. "I've never heard of anyone refer to Mer-Hermes as 'the wing-footed messenger guy,' but yeah, that's him. God of Messengers, Medicine, Travelers, Merchants, and Thieves. As well as whoever uses the roads," I added. "That's why you're here. Hermes isn't picky about who he sponsors."

"You ever meet your dad?" Percy asked.

I gave him a look. "What is this, twenty questions? But, I've met him a few times." I smiled at him. "Try not to resent your dad too much for not being there. I mean, yeah, he's a god, but even gods have rules that they have to stick to. One of them is that they're not allowed to interfere in our lives. There's also the fact that your scent becomes stronger once you know you're a demigod."

"Thanks."

"Don't worry about it," I told him, even though I was eighty percent certain that Percy was being sarcastic. "We're all extended family. We take care of each other." Now, if both camps could just let go of their prejudices and work together, it'd be a miracle.

Then, Percy asked a big question.

"Clarisse, from Ares, joked about me being 'Big Three' material. Then... Annabeth... twice she said I might be 'the one.' She also mentioned that I should talk to the Oracle. What was that about?"

I sighed. "I hate prophecies."

"What do you mean?"

"That's not really important," I replied. "Look, when you've been on as many quests as I have, you'll understand. But, ever since I went to the Garden of the Hesperides, the Oracle hasn't said any more prophecies. Personally, I could do without them. They only cause trouble. Annabeth, however, is dying to get one. She wants to go outside of Camp. She pestered Chiron so much that he finally caved in. He told her that she had to wait until... someone special came to Camp. Then she could go on one."

"Someone special?" Percy echoed.

I smiled. "I wouldn't worry about it. Annabeth wants to believe that every newcomer who comes here is the omen she's waiting for. Now, come on. It's time for dinner."

As soon as I said it, a horn blew in the distance.

"Eleven, fall in!" I yelled.

Our cabin consisted of about twenty people. We all headed out to the commons' yard. Other campers came out as well, and Cabin eight started to glow silver as the sun began to set, bathing us all in silver light.

We marched up the hill to the mess hall, with me in the front. Satyrs joined us at the meadow, and Naiads emerged from the lake. Some of the Dryads joined us as well.

In all, there were about a hundred campers, a few dozen Satyrs, and a few dozen Naiads and Dryads.

When we were all seated, Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the mess hall. He raised a glass. "To the gods!"

We all followed his example. "To the gods!"

Dryads came over with plates filled with grapes, apples, strawberries, cheese, fresh bread, and barbecue.

I looked over at Percy, who was staring at the food. "Speak to it," I told him. "Whatever you want- nonalcoholic, of course."

"Cherry Coke," Percy said, and his glass filled with gleaming caramel liquid. Apparently, that wasn't enough for him, because then he said, "Blue Cherry Coke."

The Cherry Coke turned a violent shade of cobalt.

As Percy took a sip of his drink, I handed a plate of smoked brisket to him.

"Come on," I said, getting up and heading towards the bronze braziers. When we got over there, I said in a low voice, "Burnt offerings for the gods. They like the smell."

"You're kidding."

I gave him a look. It was hard to believe, but he shouldn't take this lightly.

I approached the fire, and, bowing my head, I threw some juicy grapes into the brazier. "Hermes."

Then it was Percy's turn.

He scraped in a big slice of brisket. He didn't say anything, but I assumed he had made a silent offering. You didn't need to talk to make an offering.

When we all returned to our seats and finished our meals, Chiron pounded his hoof again to gain our attention.

Mr. D got up, sighing as he did so. "Yes, I suppose I'd better say hello to all you brats. Well, hello. Our activities director, Chiron, says the next capture the flag is Friday. Cabin five presently holds the laurels."

At the Ares table, loud cheering erupted.

"Personally," Mr. D continued as if no one had interrupted him, "I couldn't care less, but congratulations. Also, I should tell you that we have a new camper today. Peter Johnson."

Chiron muttered something to Mr. D.

"Er, Percy Jackson," he corrected himself. "That's right. Now run along to your silly campfire. Go on."

Everyone cheered. We all headed down to the theater, where Apollo's cabin led a sing-along. We sang camp songs, ate s'mores, and joked around.

I had begun to hope that maybe, Percy wouldn't be a child of the Big Three. Just because he had a powerful aura didn't mean anything. He could be a child of a titan or something.

I should've known that wasn't the case. Lupa always said to trust your instincts. Oh, I had a suspicion about who his dad was. I was just determined to ignore it.