𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲 - Percy Jackson

Chapter one

Chapter one

Present day

Brielle wandered through the dense woods, her footsteps light and almost ethereal. The forest was her sanctuary, a place where she could momentarily escape the torment that had defined her existence for the past thousand years. She often found herself here, among the towering trees and the whispering leaves, seeking solace from the relentless torture inflicted upon her by Oshira, the malevolent spirit that haunted her every moment.

"Only three more years and I go with you, Oshira," Brielle muttered to herself, her voice barely a whisper. It was a mantra she repeated often, a grim reminder of her fate. As she meandered through the familiar paths, she couldn't help but reflect on the peculiar circumstances that had led her to this cursed existence.

Brielle was not a demigod. She was once a pirate, fierce and free, sailing the vast oceans with her loyal crew. She reveled in the thrill of the sea, the wind in her hair, and the salt on her skin. Her life had been one of adventure and defiance, until the fateful encounter with Oshira. The vengeful sea spirit had cursed Brielle for reasons lost to time, condemning her to an eternity of torment. For centuries, she had endured Oshira's relentless torture, wishing for death that would never come. Immortality was both a blessing and a curse, and for Brielle, it was more the latter.

The forest, however, provided a temporary reprieve. Here, surrounded by the beauty and tranquility of nature, she could almost forget the weight of her burden. The rustling of leaves, the chirping of birds, and the gentle breeze that caressed her face—all of it helped to soothe her troubled mind. When she wasn't at Camp Half-Blood, Brielle could often be found wandering these woods or conversing with Hermes, the god of travel and her closest friend. Hermes had taken a special interest in her plight, offering guidance and companionship when she needed it most.

"Find the demigod who is the son of Poseidon," the words echoed in her mind, a directive she had received long ago. It was a task that had consumed her thoughts, a puzzle she was determined to solve. Brielle absentmindedly touched her blonde hair, which she had tied back in a ponytail. Her attire was simple yet elegant, a long white dress that brushed the forest floor as she walked. She never wore shoes, preferring the feel of the earth beneath her feet.

As she continued her solitary walk, the sky darkened, and rain began to pour. The droplets fell steadily, soaking her dress and chilling her skin. Brielle didn't mind the rain; it was a reminder of the natural world's untamed beauty. She was lost in her thoughts when she noticed something unusual—a car had crashed nearby, its twisted metal a stark contrast to the serenity of the forest.

Moving closer, Brielle saw a familiar figure—Grover Underwood, one of her few friends at Camp Half-Blood. Grover was a satyr, a loyal and courageous ally who had always been there for her. He was on the ground, seemingly in shock.

"Grover, what the hell are you doing here?" Brielle asked, crossing her arms in concern.

Grover looked up at her, his eyes wide with disbelief. He gestured toward a nearby clearing, and Brielle followed his gaze. There, amidst the chaos of the crash, was a boy around her age, locked in a fierce battle with a monstrous beast. The boy's blondish-brown hair was matted with rain, and his light skin was smeared with dirt and sweat. He fought valiantly, using his wits and sheer determination to fend off the creature. At one point, he grabbed one of the beast's antlers and drove it into the creature's skull, sending it back to the underworld from whence it came.

The boy collapsed to the ground, exhausted and unconscious. Brielle's heart raced as she turned to Grover. "Grover, go to camp and get the camp leader or someone," she shouted, urgency in her voice.

Grover nodded and scrambled to his feet, running as fast as he could back to Camp Half-Blood. Brielle approached the fallen boy cautiously, her senses on high alert for any remaining danger. When she reached him, she knelt down and checked his pulse. It was faint but steady.

By the time help arrived from the camp, Brielle was still at the boy's side, her expression one of intense focus and concern. The other demigods and campers gathered around, their curiosity piqued by the unexpected visitor and the presence of Brielle, who was often seen as an enigma.

The boy's eyes fluttered open, and he looked up at Brielle, his gaze locking with hers. His eyes were a striking shade of blue, filled with confusion and fear. He glanced around at the gathered crowd, shadows of people he didn't recognize.

"Is he okay?" someone asked.

"I think he's okay," another replied.

"He's the one," a girl said, her voice filled with awe.

"Hush, Annabeth," Brielle said, turning to see Chiron, the wise and noble centaur who served as the camp's leader. His presence commanded respect, and the campers quickly fell silent.

"He's waking up, everyone. Give him some space," Chiron instructed. The crowd obeyed, stepping back to give the boy room. Brielle remained by his side, her presence a source of comfort.

"Welcome to Camp Half-Blood, Percy Jackson," Chiron said gently. "We've been expecting you."

Percy's eyes flickered to Brielle once more before he slipped back into unconsciousness. Brielle felt a strange sense of connection to the boy, as if fate had intertwined their paths for a reason. She didn't yet realize that Percy would play a crucial role in lifting the curse that had plagued her for centuries. For now, she focused on ensuring his safety and welcoming him to the camp, where his own journey was just beginning.

A/N I know this chapters not so long but next chapters are going to be long.