Kazue Uyehara and the Wrath of Styx

I: My Mom Sends Me Across the World in 1.27 Seconds

Okay. Before I begin, let's get a few things out of the way. My name is Uyehara Kazue. Most people just call me Kazue. In terms of Greek mythology, I shouldn't exist.

"Aww, Kazue," I can hear you cooing. "Don't say things like that. Everyone deserves to exist, and I appreciate you even though I've only known you for half a minute"

I appreciate the sentiment, but it's true. I'm the daughter of Artemis.

Yeah, I said it. I'm the child of one of the few goddesses who pledged to not have kids, like, ever.

Now you're probably thinking, "How in Hades is that even possible?" I have an explanation, but in truth, I don't find it completely plausible either. See, my mortal mother, Hana, was one of The Hunters of Artemis—a group of women, demigods, and nymphs that have sworn loyalty to the goddess and pledged to remain a virgin for life. Hana was a normal mortal when she joined The Hunt in 1830, and thanks to Artemis' blessing of eternal youth, she hasn't aged a day. My okasaan (or mother, in japanese) looks just as beautiful as she does in the black-and-white photos she keeps in her scrapbook.

Fast forward seven decades and my mom and Artemis are fighting this giant monster. Neither of them ever told me what it was—but it must've been insanely strong, because Artemis was struck, and ichor, the golden blood of the gods, spewed from her wound. Now here's where things get weird: ichor is usually toxic to humans, killing them instantly on contact—but when the Artemis' blood splattered on my okaasan's hands, it just soaked into her skin, and nine months later, I was born.

I don't entirely believe the story myself, but the best consolation I've come up with for my doubt is Ichor is weird. There are plenty of examples of the blood of the gods creating new life; Prometheus' ichor causing a new species of plant to sprout, or the automaton Talos' life force being tied to his single vein of ichor. In the case of my okasaan, it produced an entire, 9-pound, screaming baby.

No Hunter who'd ever stayed a Hunter had children—even Callisto was kicked out, even though she was raped—which made my okaasan incredibly nervous. Luckily, Artemis was merciful, since Hana technically didn't break any of the rules of her oath of maidenhood. Okaasan was allowed to remain a Hunter even after I was born, and Artemis herself even helped raise me into the girl I am today. The goddess let me join the Hunters when I turned sixteen in 1916.

My moms always kept me as close as possible, partially because they cared about me, but also because Half-Bloods are naturally monster magnets. Don't get me wrong—most demigods rarely even meet their godly parents, so I was thankful to have both of my mothers in my life—but the constant attention was suffocating. With Artemis around, I was constantly reminded that my existence was an anomaly, and I hated feeling like an accident. Sneaking out was the only thing I could do to distract myself from those emotions, so of course, I did it all the time.

Little did I know, that habit was about to flip my life upside down.

The Hunters had set up camp in their typical fashion, with a circle of silver tents around a crackling bonfire in a snowy pine forest on Mount Tokachi. We were a couple of miles north of a tourist destination—nowhere near close enough for anyone to notice—but my mom imposed a curfew to "keep me safe" anyway. I was supposed to be asleep by nine o'clock, which meant I wandered into the woods at eight forty-five and hoped nobody would notice.

So, why did I sneak out this time? Because my mothers were arguing again, the same argument they'd been having since I became a Hunter. Hana wanted me to go to Camp Half-Blood, where I would be safe and experience what it's like to be a normal demigod, but Artemis insisted on keeping me with her Hunters. She argued that I was to be kept a secret—that the knowledge of my existence would cause unrest within the other gods, maybe even start a war. Hearing that always made me feel like I was the problem. I mean, who wouldn't be upset if their mom said their presence would make the gods take up arms? My heart stung with guilt, wishing I'd never been born at all.