The Roman Hearth goddess poked the flames and stared at the ground sadly, though she was an eternal maiden she had always wanted a child, she had always wanted a child that she could be proud of. One that would love her as she did him, one that she could sing to sleep and cherish.
"I know what you want Vesta." She turned to see Hecate smirking knowingly at her. Vesta barely acknowledged her for she knew how sneaky and deceiving Hecate was.
"Why are you on Olympus Hecate? You know Jupiter wouldn't be pleased." She said stoically, she also knew that Hecate preferred her Greek form rather than being known as Trivia.
"I know you want a child, preferably a boy. I can give that to you, for a price of course." Hecate ignored her question, Vesta perked immediately once she mentioned having a child.
"How will I have one without breaking my vow?" She asked curiously and Hecate conjured up a vile filled with blue liquid, Vesta looked at her in confusion and Hecate began to explain.
"You must make him from the hearth, Neptune must help you as well. If you and Neptune can make him from the hearth then he shall inherit both your powers, he will be extremely powerful. But there's a catch, he will be a demigod." Vesta felt elated, she could have a son without breaking her vow. Her son would be a demigod, she didn't mind that. Jupiter would kill her and her child. She knew her brother always assumed the worst, he would destroy him to ensure his own safety.
"But Jupiter is paranoid, he would probably kill my son to protect his throne and power." She spat angrily and scowled. Hecate was surprised to see Vesta so passionate about her future son.
"You will have to hide him for a while, you know what happened to Hades's kids and their mother." Vesta nodded glumly at her Greek brother's loss, her little bother was cruel and unfit to rule the gods. No one questioned him though, he was mad with power and the thirst for royalty. Vesta knew that having a child from the hearth would be a bad idea, but her desire over came her logical side.
"I swear on the Styx's that I will agree to your terms if you help me with my child." Thunder rumbled and Hecate smirked manically.
"Good, and I know just where to hide him."
-FIVE YEARS LATER-
Five year old Percy didn't understand why his parents didn't want him, was he a bad kid, was he a mistake? He asked himself these questions constantly in hopes to understand why he was so unwanted. He kicked at the dirty, cracked floor boards sadly. He was in a room with about twenty beds in it. The room was smelly and dark, all he could hear were quiet breaths of children sleeping. He picked at the hem of his shirt as he became lost in his thoughts again. He had a little bit of hope that his parents had left him here because they were poor and loved him. But the more he mulled over the idea the more he was sure it wasn't true. Ditching a child at a broke and smelly orphanage wasn't his idea of love.
He bounced from home to home only to get sent back to the orphanage. When he was tossed back he was ridiculed for being a freak. Anytime his anger got the best of him something caught on fire, or the indoor plumbing would burst and flood the house. His eyes both transfixed and frightened everyone. They were a beautiful sea green with a red ring around the irises that drew people in, but when he became angry they would literally burst into red flames, he didn't know this happened. He was broken from his thoughts when a man burst into the room,
"What are you doing up boy!" Gabe roared and Percy flinched,
"Sowwy Gabe." He silently prayed that he wouldn't get hit, Gabe grumbled something and lumbered out of the room. Percy had trouble pronouncing his r's correctly and many of the couples who adopted him thought it was adorable.
"Just get to bed boy!" He shouted from the other room. He despised the word boy almost as much as he despised Gabe, the care taker of the orphanage. He grumbled angrily and without knowing his eyes lit up in flames. He was sick of this, the mean kids, the stupid, abusive, alcoholic, care taker. He was sick of the couples who feared him, sick of thinking about his parents, sick of being depressed. Even though all these things plagued his mind daily he could feel a bit of hope flicker through him as if a tiny flame that never went out.
That night he decided to leave, unfortunately since he was only five he just left. He didn't bother to think of the future, he only thought of freedom from the horrible prison. He ran from the orphanage and never looked back.
-A FEW HOURS LATER-
Percy was tired, cold, lost, and lonely. He wandered through the woods shivering, he finally sat by a tree. He huddled and wrapped his arms around himself trying to warm up. It did little to stop the goose bumps that kept appearing. It didn't help that he was only in a t-shirt and shorts. He remembered how any time he got angry something would light on fire. He started thinking of everything that had ever made him mad,
"Gabe hitting you," he murmured and felt his gut clench,"Zack teasing you, people being afwaid of you," his body began to feel warmer and he kept going,"being wetuwened(returned) to the pwison, mommy and daddy leaving you behind." His words made him tremble and soon the dead log in front of him lit on fire. He jumped in surprise but scooted to it eagerly. The warmth felt fantastic and he stared into the flames of the mesmerizing fire. Being five, Percy was curious and he reached out to touch it. The fire danced from the log to his hand and he shook it in fear.
"Ahhhhhhhhhh!" He screamed but the fire stuck to his hand. He danced around wildly trying to put it out. He stopped once his hand didn't burn.
"Pwetty." He murmured and touched the flaming log again, I don't want my hand to be on fire anymore. He pleaded silently and pulled away from the log to find his hand perfectly normal. He grinned, but before he could do it again he heard a voice yell at him.
"Stop right there!" He whirled around to see a twelve year old with auburn hair and silver eyes glaring at him. She had a silver bow pointed at him and was surrounded by girls who had their bows pointed at him as well. A girl with black hair and black eyes stepped beside the twelve year old. She had on a tiara and wore a sneer. The girls scared him.
"Why are you burning things boy?" She said boy as if it was the worst world in the world, it was to Percy. Being called boy made him slightly frustrated, luckily not enough for his eyes to burst into to flames. Anytime he was called boy he thought of Gabe and getting smacked around by him.
"My names not boy! My names Pewcy!" A few of the girls snickered at his lisp and he glared at them. He was on the brink of being angry.
"Because I asked." She said tauntingly and the girls snickered again.
"Enough Zoe, why are you lighting things on fire boy? We happen to live in these woods." The twelve year old asked and Percy bristled.
"I told you, my names Pewcy! And I was cold so I lit it the log on fiwe(fire). I didn't want to die." The silver eyed girl glared at Percy with no sympathy.
"Hand me your lighter." She commanded and Percy glared right back.
"I don't have one." The black hair girl, Zoe, walked towards him menacingly and stuck out her hand, he flinched expecting to be slapped but her hand never went by his face. The silver eyed girl frowned at this but no one else seemed to notice.
"Give me the lighter Pewcy." She taunted his lisp with malice and his eyes suddenly burst into flames. Zoe stepped back in surprise and he continued to glare at her.
"Stop making fun of me!" He screamed and suddenly a ring of fire surrounded him. Zoe jumped back and looked at him with shock along with the other hunters.