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Setting Prompt: Neptune's temple in New Rome/ 538 words

A clear chill ran through the abandoned temple- if it could even be called that. Overhead, the sky was overcast and bloated with the promise of icy showers to come. Grey underbellies sped through the air.

The daughter of Bellona stood outside the desolate and dusty building- if it could even be called that- for a minute before biting her lip and entering. Her black river hair fell across her face and she brushed it away.

The space was small and pathetic; Reyna fleetingly entertained the disrespectful thought that she had been in bigger broom cupboards, for the sake of the Gods. Three shrivelled up apples rolling around on a dusty bronze plate, glittering spider webs grasping the ceiling… And yet, it was somehow, like the sea; wild and lonely and by the Romans, unappreciated.

Reyna had never really been inside here before.

She knelt, her knees awkwardly banging into the offerings table and clutched the plate to stop the apples from rolling off. Reyna noticed an unused stick of incense that sat mournfully on the table. Fumbling in her pocket for a lighter, she lit it; a small yellow glow flickered at the top before a sweet smoke enveloped the room.

"My Lord Neptune…" her lips crusted, she was unsure of how to proceed.

If truth be told, she hated the sea. Like any other Roman, she feared it. Its wildness and illogicality and the fact that it was never constant… It was so disorganised; unlike Rome, oh how it was built on the concept or organisation and logic and discipline…

Circe's Island, where the pirates had captured them; had held them on the rough and stormy ocean while she and Hylla scrambled to survive as the ship tossed and rolled in Her unforgiving, clammy grasp…

And then that boy, that Greek… Percy Jackson. She had wanted to hit him, she really had! Pluto, hit was an understatement, damn it all; he had destroyed her home and he was the reason that she had suffered, all those months.

But Rome was built on organisation and discipline, so she had kept herself in check. It didn't help that he was the son of Poseidon, Lord of the sea. It didn't help that his eyes were as green as the clear rivers back at Circe's; the fresh jewel tropical green that ended up trickling into the wide ocean.

Reyna hated the sea.

But it was the sea's help they needed.

"I need your help." Her voice was dusty, slightly unkempt. Gravel, almost. "Please, aid Perseus Jackson on his quest. May your power be with him."

She was afraid, but she would pray. It was to save her camp.

"Please, my Lord. My camp needs you… I need you."

Was there anything left to say? She didn't think so.

Getting up, she smoothed down her praetor's robes and walked towards the door, pushing it open as a blast of wind drew her hair back. It smelled slightly briny.

The first drops of rain were slicing through the air, whipping the dark afternoon into a cleansing frenzy.

There were offerings that needed to be gifted to Neptune, and she would have to clean up his temple a bit.

If it would save her camp, nothing was too much.