Hey all. First fanfic, so please Read and Review! I'd really like to hear what you think about this; if you love it, let me know. If you hate it, definitely let me know so that I can make any changes you think it might need! As an added bonus, if anyone can guess what the date in my pen name refers to, I will give you absolutely nothing of value other than my everlasting respect and admiration. But please do review. Here goes.

Chapter 1: In Which My Mathematics Class is Interrupted by a Pachyderm

The day began with enough of a semblance of normalcy. I dragged myself out of bed way too early, avoided my stepmother, and walked three miles through a veritable blizzard in downtown Boston to get to school. I struggled to make it through my first four classes, ignoring the jibes and taunts thrown my way, composed myself long enough to eat the cafeteria's excuse for a lunch, and straggled into my math class, ready for a power nap.

But Fate did not agree. As I put my head down and closed my eyes, my teacher, Mr. Sherman, walked in. He was a squat man with a limping gait who hardly knew more about math than I did. I told him that once, which was probably a mistake.

"Lysander!" he barked, "Get your head up off your desk!"

I winced as I always did when he used my full name. He was the only person who called me that. Everyone else just called me Sander. Nonetheless, I picked up my head.

"Now that your classmate is gracing us with his attention," Sherman went on, "I am going to teach you about-"

As he spoke, the walls of the building shook. The class was on the first floor, and I looked up warily, uneasy about the tons of cement and steel that were directly over my head. Sherman looked up as well, then turned his head and narrowed his eyes at me. I shrugged at him. The man couldn't blame me for everything.

"As I was saying," Sherman continued, his beady eyes still fixed on me, "today's lesson focuses on imaginary numbers."

But no one was paying attention anymore. They were whispering frantically, questioning what the disturbance had been and if it was going to prove a problem. Sherman noticed in about two seconds, and raised a hand for silence.

"Class." He said gruffly, "Whatever that mild tremble may have been-"

"Nothing about that was mild." A girl said loudly.

Sherman ignored her and went on; "-I assure you it was nothing to be worried about."

No sooner had he finished then the back wall of the classroom collapsed.

I leaped to my feet, turning as I did to face the back. Where the wall had been there was merely a crumbled ruin, and astride the mess stood a massive boar, squealing in delight. The monster's hide was a deep brown of sharply spiked fur, and his tusks gleamed a shining white, razor-edged and easily capable of gutting a man.

Chaos ruled. Kids ran around screaming, pushing each other and tripping over desks. Only Sherman stood calmly, looking at the boar. Then he turned to me, a cruel smile playing across his mouth. He pointed at me, and the boar charged, swinging its head and tusks side to side as if in a sawing motion.

As the massive creature hurtled towards me, I froze. Time seemed to slow, but I couldn't move. As the animal prepared to slice me into pieces, only one thing was in my mind.

"Aera! Eja Alale!" I yelled. I don't know where the words came from. They sprung to my mind, and devoid of other options, I was reduced to yelling at pachyderms. Yet as I shouted the words, something happened. The temperature rose to a blistering heat, and I swear that the world took on a red tint. The boar squealed again, but it was a squeal of desperate fear and panic this time. It stumbled, halting its charge less than a yard from my chest, and then turned. Giving me a terrified look, the boar ran back through the wall, and out into the streets of Boston.

I turned again to face Sherman. The other kids had by this time fled scrambling from the room, or out through the wall. But not Sherman. He just looked at me, a murderous glint in his eyes, and a vicious look on his face.

"You are not as weak as I expected, son of Alale. But you are not my equal, and your mother will yet bend knee to us."

As he spoke, his form shimmered and changed, his face grew gaunt, his eyes turned blood red, and became consumed with the light of vengeance. His stature increased, but his frame was spare and had nothing of fat or muscle. His hair seemed to die, and it turned an ashy gray. I looked at him and was consumed with rage, with a murderous desire to track down everyone who had ever wronged me and make them suffer.

Sherman laughed. "You see, son of Alale, you cannot contend with me. Greek will again massacre Roman, and Roman again slaughter Greek. There is nothing you can do. Submit, and you will not be harmed."

I opened my mouth to shout at him again, but no words came. Sherman laughed. "You are mine, child of the War-Cry!" As he spoke, he lunged forward, thin fingers grasping for my neck.

I tumbled backwards over a desk, and came up on top of Sherman. His hands were still around my neck, but I hit him, fist smashing into bone. There was no apparent effect. Sherman smiled, and with inhuman strength, rolled to the side so that he had the upper hand. Lights danced in front of my eyes. I am going to die. I thought. The thought was oddly calming. There was nothing to fear from Death. However, I guess I was destined to survive the assault of my math teacher, because just then an arrow whistled through the air, lodging itself in Sherman's shoulder.

He hissed in pain, and released me, standing up to face my saviors. Apparently the sight didn't please him, because he roared in rage. "Half-bloods!" He growled. "You cannot prevail!"

"Die, Alastor!" a voice shouted, deep and resonating with power. Another arrow flew, this time striking Sherman's chest. He roared in fury and pain, standing up to his full, and suddenly considerable height. "You have not won, fools. Friends will become foes, and the blood of the gods will stain the earth red once more!"

Sherman snarled one more time, and then his form shimmered again, but this time he disappeared. A third arrow flew through the space where just a moment before his head had been. I heaved a wheezing breath when he disappeared, and then slumped backwards, submitting to unconsciousness.

Let me know what you think of my little tale, and what you think happened of significance in 216 BC!