Frank Zhang's Chinese Gods

A Prelude

Quick A/N: Do not expect regular updates anytime soon- I was going to hold on posting this, but I decided against it. This is a very short chapter as it's just an introduction to the story, as its "prelude" title suggests. It's unedited for now- the tenses don't match up and it's a bit choppy and I love my dashes- but I'll work on that later.

Frank Zhang likes to be an agreeable person, he really does, but the world always seems pitted against him and his preferred demeanour, almost like it was pushing him to fill the spot as a child of Mars.

"There's no point in denying it, you little weakling. You're lost. Whoop-de-doo. Now rage!"

Sometimes he had to check if his dad has really somehow gotten back into his head. But, per usual, the war god isn't there. Maybe he really his grandma, then. She, of all peo-

He probably should stop there. Too much distraction, less survival. And Frank doesn't even have ADHD to blame for it. Right then, focus Fai. As he walks through mud- and gets mud in his old boots- he can't help but think how stupid this whole thing is. What would Leo be doing in Montana? But, of course, each demigod got their own little chunk of North America, and Frank had volunteered to sweep the U.S.-Canada border, if not for Leo then for the scenic routes.

Leo.

The only word they had was a small message from Nico di Angelo- Leo was alive. He was dead, but now alive. Short and cryptic, yes, but priceless. The Seven (well, six) agreed to start searching for him as soon as possible afterward. Leo had done so much for them- it would be distasteful to not return the favour. Not to mention that they were all a tight group of friends- no, family at this point- and losing one of themselves made a huge difference. After getting a month off of his praetor duties ('You saved us all, now save yourself.'), Frank started his search optimistic, despite being on a whole different side of the country then Hazel.

Now it was day 14, and his high hopes were at an all-time low. To think he'd ever had illusions of finding their precious "seventh wheel." The only hope he had left was the hope that Leo is happy somewhere, but even that was hard to believe.

He hears the sound of people in the distance. It's been a few hours since he's seen civilization- searching on foot and as a human took awhile, but it's the best way- so he picks up the pace a bit and heads towards it. His bow is at ready, as "civilization" might not be actual civilization. A monster's trap, the home of a god, who knows. Or maybe just a small town, but it's impossible to decipher from this distance.

Frank finally sees what he's been listening to- or rather, where. A fenced in (bamboo fence?) area with a fair number of towers awaits him. The one in front is a shade of red he's only seen on his grandmother's little building replicas. And this kind of reminds him of it, too. A four story storied building that wouldn't look out of place on a travel magazine stands in front of him, noise leaking out of open windows. The familiar sound of metal on metal reaches the boy's ears when he listens into the courtyard.

Suddenly, he hears a gruff but also distinctly feminine voice behind him.

"State your name, soldier, so it at least can be written on your grave."

Maybe showing up here dressed in full Roman armour isn't the best idea. But there's no time to rethink his choices with a shiny, sharp spear at his neck.