I grew up with Dad in Northumberland, England. I don't remember anything about Mum, and Dad won't talk about her much, it makes him too sad. We live in a small house a few miles from the nearest village- and the lack of siblings meant I had few friends. Fitting in at school was hard too- classmates and teachers tended to ignore me a lot of the time. At first I thought it was me being shy, or something to do with having dyslexia and ADHD. Later I would find out this was a downside to being a Nyx kid- a tendency to be missed out.
However, I was ace at hide and seek- always managing to find the best spots to conceal myself. Maybe I just had a natural talent for it...although Dad could always find me. He became my best friend, because at school, I was the loner. On my 12th birthday he made me a beautiful hazel wood bow, and taught me how to shoot it. It was lucky he did- or I would have been defenceless against the monsters I encountered later on.
Perhaps the the most memorable incident was also the time I killed my first monster...accidentally. I was 13, wandering through the woods near my house. The falling leaves were my target practice, until one arrow thudded into the side of an unsuspecting harpie, who just happened to be stalking me at that point. The harpie hissed, and disintegrated into a pile of ashes. I screamed. Dad came running. Somehow he was calm- old me to retrieve the arrow, which I did rather reluctantly. He always reminded me to do so, whenever I was shooting, although at that point I didn't understand why.
As for the monster- well I had no idea what had just happened, but apparently Dad did. Two weeks later, we'd sold the house and moved into a small house on Staten Island, just outside New York. I didn't know why and I didn't mind much- I had nothing else in Northumberland.
A few years passed, and the monsters increased. The older I got the worse it became- instead of less than once a year they became more frequent- sometimes two or three times a year. Eventually Dad decided enough was enough. He sat me down with a cup of tea, and told me everything. How mum was a goddess, how I was a demi-god, and that I wasn't safe here, anymore. It didn't surprise me much- it was almost as if I'd known, all along, that I wasn't like everyone else. In fact, it came as a relief... Until Dad told me about Camp Half-Blood. By staying with him, I put him in danger and I knew that wasn't what I wanted. Leaving him was the only option; all the same, it was hard.
Two days later, we made the journey to Camp Half-Blood. Crossing the bridge was easy, but the trek through the woods of Long Island was a little more difficult- about halfway there we spotted another harpie ahead of us. Quickly, we formulated a plan- I would sneak up and shoot them from behind- and I knew Dad had a weapon on him in case he needed it. Our plan worked, but only just. The harpie spotted me before I could shoot...so she got an arrow in the face instead of the back.
When we reached the path, Dad led the way. The smell of strawberries lingered in the air, and the cool breeze was nice on my skin; but I couldn't enjoy it. Soon the gates were upon us- it was there we said our goodbyes- and he pressed the hilt of a dagger into my palm. My fingers curled around it, the metal still warm from his grip. "A gift from your mother- I was to keep it safe until you were older." he told me. "Celestial bronze, like your arrows. They too were a gift from Nyx. Neither can harm mortals, only monsters. You'll be safe."