You were walking through Camp Half-Blood, brushing the sand off your legs after training. Like everyone else, your orange T-shirt stood out in the dim light filtering through the trees surrounding the cabins. Children of all the gods laughed amongst themselves as they sharpened their weapons or showed each other their injuries. Typical teenage stuff, right? Well, that was Camp Half-Blood.

Suddenly, you spotted Luke, one of the older boys. He was showing a blond kid around. He must have been about your age, around twelve or thirteen, and he had the same confused and surprised expression as everyone else when they arrived. His sea-blue eyes met yours, and a strange feeling stirred in your chest.

The boy tripped over a tree root, and Luke instinctively helped him up. Was this the same kid who had supposedly defeated a minotaur the night before? It seemed highly unlikely. However, there was something about those messy curls that piqued your curiosity.