They know me for what I was: a hopeless traitor. Its true, and I won't deny it, but that isn't how I want to be remembered. I'm going to go back to the mortal realm, and when I get back here, I should have a story more worth telling.

This is the memorial that Luke Castellan would leave behind, and it saddens me, because he should be remembered as the hero that slew Kronos. Perhaps not all stories should be remembered.

Hero. The word denotes a great person; one who is high-minded, selfless, and still humble. A hero is someone who is willing to make sacrifices for others. If everyone could only see the sort of people that the word was based off, they would see what a jest it all is.

Heroes. There is nothing heroic about them. You will find no group of people more arrogant, self-serving, or petty. Achilles, an arrogant, petulant, glory-hound, cried for his mother like a baby the first time that his life was threatened. Bellerophon arrogantly tried to ride the into Olympus on Pegasus, as if he was a god. Hercules brutally murdered his own family in a rage, and Agamemnon traded women around like plundered cattle.

But they are remembered. They are honored. They are heroes to men everywhere. These vile men are called heroes, without having any virtue besides their strength in battle.

They have no concept of duty, no idea of a greater good. Children of Ares fight for a love of war, Children of Athena, Hermes or Hephaestus, to show off their cleverness. Children of Poseidon or Zeus do nothing if it doesn't mean glory for themselves. Children of Aphrodite usually don't fight at all.

Yes, a few great heroes fight bravely and selflessly, but I can count them on just one hand. Orpheus, Odysseus, Ajax, and Perseus Jackson were all good men. But they are alone among the numberless great heroes that I have met.

Ah yes. The invincible Perseus Jackson. I remember him glaring at me murderously when little Bianca became a huntress. The poor boy didn't understand just what we were giving her. She would never have had her heart broken. She would have every joy of friendship for all eternity. It took Perseus a while to comprehend that. I wasn't surprised. Most heroes aren't capable of understanding why a girl would want to take a vow of everlasting service and celibacy. They can't think of any pleasure greater than the pleasure of being used shamefully by them. To them, lust is everything.

I thought that Perseus was a man like that. So many great heroes are. With time I discovered my error. Perseus didn't think that the Bianca would have a bad life, he just thought that we were letting her run from the world. He was ever a boy that wanted to change things, to make things better. He couldn't understand why someone would want things to stay the same forever. He was one of the last of many hundreds of heroes that I had seen in my time, but I will always remember him as being one of the truest.

Perseus couldn't understand why you would want things to always stay the same. Thalia could, all too well. I remember her well. Thalia Grace, the poor girl hopelessly needing respect and friendship, the poor girl who lashed out at us violently, when we were trying to give her everything she wanted. She had always wanted things to change from the way they were when she was a kid, her drunken mother coming in at odd hours, emotionally abusing her sometimes. She couldn't deal with a mother that could just lose a son of hers and not even seem to care. She wanted a perfect family, because that spelled stability to her.

Just look at the little family she made out of her ragtag friends. Luke and her were little Annabeth's protective parents that were following dear Uncle Grover to his house in New York where everything would be fine and happy. That was what she thought, and that was why we wanted her in the huntresses. That was why we wanted Bianca. They understood the meaning of duty, understood what it meant to look out for others.

Poor girl.

All she wanted was to have friends who she could depend on and trust. We offered that to her but she refused. I suppose she understood duty too well. She couldn't give up on her "family," however far her "husband" fell and however tall her "daughter" grew. She didn't give up even when Luke poisoned her. She didn't give up when Luke captured and misused Annabeth. I died before she finally came to terms with Luke's betrayal, as I am told she did, so I cannot say how she did it. I can only say that I am happy for her.

I am happy for her, because she now knows true stability. She knows the meaning of duty, and she will serve Artemis well. I myself used to be very similar to her. When Hercules abandoned me, I had no idea what to do with my life. I was skilled in warfare, young, and strong, but Hercules, the man who I had set all my dreams and plans around, was gone. I am the sort of person that will always be in service to a greater cause. Once I served Hercules, the man I loved, and he failed me. Artemis was a more faithful master. She gave me purpose when purpose had been lost.

In duty is found purpose, and in purpose, joy. I searched for it for many years before I met my master Artemis.

This is the story of Zoe Nightshade, true servant of Artemis for many years. No hero has slain more beasts, or fought more wars than she. May she be remembered with honor.

*A/N: ugh this chapter came out horribly. Hope you people out there don't mind if I cry in a corner for a while. btw, any requests for who you would like to hear from next? I'm going to do Beckendorf, but I am open to suggestions.