I'm Back!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi everyone!

Here is the Disclaimer and a few Warnings:

· All rights on the characters belong to Rick Riordan. Only the plot was of my own creation.

· This is a heavy AU. There will be alterations to the original plot that you must keep in mind to understand it, those being:

- No Percabeth whatsoever! Despite being my favourite ship, it wouldn't work for this story. So, for the sake of it, they were never together in the first place because I didn't have the heart to break them apart.

- Leo never landed on Ogygia. Again, it wouldn't work for this story so, it never happened.

- Percy still fell into Tartarus with Annabeth, but just because she is his best friend and he would do it for any of his friends.

- After the Second Giant War, Percy accepted immortality. NOT GODHOOD. Just immortality.

Final warning: this is a one-shot. I'll give no continuation to this story. If any of you want to write a story out of this one-shot, feel free to do it as long as you credit me for the one-shot and PM me to say you have the intention of doing a story (just so I could follow it and read it).

I've spoken to much already! On with the story!

A young girl who looked to be about eighteen years old walked, barefooted, in a beach of the purest, white sand. Her cinnamon coloured hair bounced with every step she took; her luscious red lips hummed a happy tune; her hazel coloured eyes shone with mirth; her tanned skin, showing she spent a lot of time under the sun, glistened in the moonlight; her delicate fingernails were sullied with dirt, as was her Greek-styled chiton, giving away her green-thumb.

She happily walked during a couple more minutes, until she spotted a silhouette in the shadows, staring out at the sea.

He heart was suddenly filled with dread.

"They wouldn't..." she thought to herself.

She approached the shadowy figure. She could see it was a male. He had a muscular figure, but no excessively so; he had the body of an Olympic swimming champion. He was wearing dark-blue jeans, almost black, and a sea-green hoodie, covering his facial features in shadows.
The man was barefooted, allowing the young woman to see his tanned skin, even more so than her own, reminding her of a deep-sea fisherman.

The man still hadn't noticed the girl approaching him.
-Who are you, young one? – she questioned him.

The man raised his head to look at her, not looking surprised at all, though such a thing was hard to access given that his face remained shadowed.
-Who I am is not important. – he answered – I'm just another name history will eventually forget, turning me into a myth, a story parents tell their children to encourage them to pursue their dreams and ideals. I'm yet another lonely soul who failed to find his companion.

The young girl pondered on how to respond:
-History always remembers those who did great things. If you're one of such people, surely it won't forget you.

-History remembers the men, but it forgets the blood. My friends tell me I did many great things, but I disagree. Not one of them was made all by myself; I have always had the help of my friends. Never have I done those things for my own good, but for the good of others. So that way, maybe I could atone for my wrongdoings. – the girl could swear she saw a few silver streaks run down the shadows that were the man's face. – I let many of my friends die... I broke so many promises... And to this day I'm yet to accomplish the most important of them all: the one I did to the only I've ever loved. So tell me, beautiful Calypso...Do I truly deserve to be remembered?