The armor fell into place on my shoulders like it belonged, which it did. While on trial, no one is allowed armor or weapons- didn't matter who. My trial had to have set a record- three weeks before the Senate, and all of it naked of arms or armor. Now that it was over, I was allowed to wear it. The material clanked quietly as I stuffed my things in a bag. One last check, to make sure I had it all, and I flipped the mattress, bunk cleared out as ordered. I slipped the spear into place on my back and sheathed the sword on my belt. My shield, forged by a friend two summers ago, got slung on my back as well, over the small bag of my things. Last, I slipped the dagger in my boot as I laced them up. The dormitory was deserted- as no one wanted to be tainted by me. I swallowed back tears as the feeling of being cast adrift hit me again. This was it, the last goodbye. I pushed through the mosquito netting to the wraparound porch, where I got a surprise.
Both Praetors were standing by the steps. While one had to see me out, to make sure I left, only one was required. Immediately, unable to break legion training, I knelt, as was custom when being inspected.
"This is the end." Justin, standing on my left said. He held out a hand to help me up. I nodded yes, not trusting my voice for words, and accepted his hand. Marissa, the other Praetor held out a pouch of denarii.
"This is for the four years of service you've given us." She said, making sure I knew I couldn't refuse them. Formality over, she tugged me into a warm hug. "I'm sorry we couldn't change their minds." While both had fought to keep me, she had fought much harder than anyone else. I suspected it wasn't just because I had been a good aide. "I want you to know, I was going to step down next solstice, and recommend you." She whispered, confirming my longstanding suspicions of being groomed for command. With one last, squeeze, she let me go.
"You have a mission, your hardest one yet." Justin started, taking on the mantle of Praetor.
"You will be cut off from traditional supplies, and alone for the duration. You may use whatever resources fall into your path, but you may not seek out official aid. It is with solemn hearts that, due to the nature of your mission, the gates will be closed to you until you complete it. Only once you know who you are will you be able to present a case to be let back in." Marissa said, letting the officiality shield her from the loss.
"Come home." Justin added.
As I walked down the street to the gate where I was to be cast out, I saw many legionaries. People I knew, people who had spoken at the trial, for better or worse. Enemies, friends, and strangers- all here to watch the spectacle in dead silence. There wasn't a whole lot of trust in me, after the incident. I didn't blame them. I didn't really trust me either. As I came to the boundary marker, I was hit again with the magnitude of the change.
This was my home, my world. I was born into the legion, raised in Nova Roma. Four years I had fought as part of the legion, had done battle for the good of the people. All that, snuffed out in an instant. As the drawbridge came down, I realized something that I had known deep down: I was never coming back. No matter what I did, how much I learned and could explain, there were only two ways I was ever crossing this bridge again- on a shield, or in a bag. Both options meant I wouldn't be breathing. I clenched a fist, and a pale grey gauntlet wavered in the light.
Auros, spirit. The gauntlet was a physical manifestation of my will, an ability gained at much too high a cost. The whispers I caught said that the gift would grow, that one day I could encase my body in the armor and generate weapons as well. I would become a juggernaut, unable to be held or disarmed. Those days, if I survived to see them, were far away. One centurion stood lone guard at the actual border- eyes watching not me or the camp, but the wilds. Blessed by his indifference, I stopped and drew a symbol in the dirt, almost directly on the line, promising passage. Deliberately standing on the rune, I crossed into the mortal world. When I glanced back, there was nothing to see but empty trees. The mist was powerful at the boundaries to protect the camp form outsiders- and that's what I was now: an outsider.
Four years of service, erased. I wiped my red eyes and followed the path through the trees. The trail merged with another and then another, going from a path barely carved out from the wilderness to a paved trail. I didn't pass anyone on the hike, which given that Helios was barely above the horizon, made sense. The trail ended at a nearly deserted parking lot. Three vehicles sat in the rock. The first was a camper that, judging by the tires, hadn't moved in a couple years. The second was a ranger's truck, empty and locked. The third, I assumed was also locked, until a slight click came from it when I brushed against it. It was a blue ford explorer, definitely not new, but hopefully serviceable. The keys were clipped to the rearview mirror, and after a few clicks and a lot of whining and shaking, the engine turned over. I double checked the mirrors and tried to remember the rules of driving. With no license, I couldn't afford to be pulled over.
Apparently, I remembered enough, as I passed though the town and merged onto the highway without incident. This was going to be a long drive. There were two places I could get answers from: The Fates on Mount Olympus, or the great library in New Orleans.
It turned out, I had forgotten one thing about traveling by car, they required fuel regularly. Fuel that does not grow on the side of the road. So, I puttered to a halt in the middle of Arizona, with not a car in sight.
With no choice in the matter, I sat by the road and held out my thumb. Hitchhiking was horribly dangerous for most people, but I was not most people. Unfortunately, the same aura that I was no easy mark made it difficult to convince anyone to stop. After a few cars had slowed down only to speed up again sharply, I checked for what could be driving them away.
I looked like I was going to war, if that war was fought without the past eon's technology. Armor, sword, spear, polished shield reflecting the rising sun- no wonder no one would accept me. I tugged on the mist and tried to make the best of things. The mist would help hide the abnormal, but it was up to the person how the abnormalities held.
One person stopped but was going the wrong direction. They made a point to comment on how my sword was 'sheathed on the wrong side. I bet you didn't even see the movie,' while another told me that 'I'm sure your art will sell one day!'. As the morning progressed, I found myself glancing at the pink skin on my arm. My tattoos had been burned off during the ritual of banishment. So too had my hard-earned lieutenant badge. That had been a very specific kind of agony, to watch them force the Praetors to rip it from me. But, I had been denounced and cast out. I had no claims anymore. Nothing more than the mark I etched into their wards.
As the day dragged on, I cheated. No one was looking to pick up a teenage girl, so I jumped ship onto some farmers produce sale. I caught him during the turn, and it didn't take but a sprint and a jump to duck into the back of his load. I rolled out as he neared the gas station and pretended that I had not just crushed probably 50 heads of lettuce.
To be honest, I was a little too good at this. This type of thing had been my life the past two years. In the legion, I hadn't been a regular centurion. No, I had been a Spec. The speculators have a long tradition of being scouts and espionage experts. When the legions march, they did so behind us. We would advance days before, clearing the trail and defusing problems. Fresh supplies, water sources, lodging and food- we were good at getting what we needed. But where we excelled was the art of sabotage. We were the original bridge burners, well poisoners, tunnel sappers. Salting the fields? A classic. The closest modern-day equivalent is some of the more off-the-farm Special Forces teams. We were the ones who stayed behind lines, we are the ones who infiltrated and assassinated. It was a thankless job during operations, but for any reckless devil-may-care adrenaline junkie, it was perfect. By the time that the farmer realized that his crop was damaged, or that he had bought two tanks of gas and backtracked, I was in Texas.
The SUV had to be enchanted, because the miles were just rolling past. Perhaps it was a case of Heartland hypnosis, but three states flew by in no time at all. I saluted the exit for Louisiana and gunned the engine. Despite the library in New Orleans being my best bet, as the fates were notorious about being closed lipped, I still needed a sponsor to get access. They were very picky about who could enter the stacks- and as I had no backing, I stood no chance without some weight behind my name. And someone on the big rock would champion my case, if only out of curiosity. I had come back from the dead after all.
Yeah, I died. I saw the fates, watched them snip my line. I felt my soul shrift from my body- but them something strange happened. The end of the line they cut sunk back into the loom. It seamlessly merged, like it had been going to do that all along. It baffled me, and if I thought it was confusing, imagine how shocked the legion had to have been. I walked out of the funeral pyre, wrapped in grey armor.
They told me that they originally thought I was Minerva. Sorely disappointed, I guess. Just a plain old demigod, nothing divine about it. Except that something had changed. Something that still made me shake in my boots.
I shook myself out of my head as I crossed the mountains. I looked, but the Smokies did not live up to their name. No fire or smoke in sight, just waves and waves of green. Disappointing.
It didn't take long to pull up in Washington DC. The SUV was definitely not standard- someone had played around with the parts. Across the US in two days? Doable, but also not really feasible. Mercury? Apollo? It was someone powerful, and now I owed them.
Quick note for the uneducated, you never drive past DC without stopping. Ever. It is home to too much to ever even think about it. Too much respect and power simmer in its streets. NYC might hold Olympus, where they lived, but DC is where the gods held court. Mars and Athena poked at each other from warehouses and bases, nondescript buildings and black suburbans. Jupiter and Apollo rested around the capitol, while Hera strutted around the gardens. Mercury was in heaven, flighting around like a hummingbird on speed. Here was the land of greater beings than I, and respect was owed. As such, I kept my mouth shut and weapons sheathed. Some may not appreciate having someone with my reputation here. And, now that I no longer had the protection of dutiful service, the lesser gods could act freely both for and against me. DC was to demigods just as it was to mundanes, a place of dangerous opportunity. One corner might find you being on top of the world, but take two lefts, and you're neck deep in trouble. For any demigod visiting the city, without having been called, it is generally polite to check in with the most powerful permanent resident- the big man on the hill.
The sun was setting on the reflecting pools as I crossed the grass. Deep orange and red streaks colored the air. Dusk was the best time for me to approach him. My hand drifted to my belt as I walked up the steps. I reached the top and knelt, hoping that he was in a nice mood.
"Welcome to the capital. You may rise, Alyssa." I didn't ask how he knew my name.
I stood. "It is a lovely city, Mr. Lincoln."
He let out a rough laugh, the sound of boulders grinding on each other. "Hah! Don't lie to me, child. This place is a cesspool of ill intent. But," His eyes flashed as he eased back into his seat, "It's my cesspool. What business have you in the City? At such an auspicious hour?"
He rightly took my silence for shock.
"Yes, I'm aware of the importance of time. You carry a curious blessing. Though, some call it more of a curse. I knew one of your kind, before I was enshrined. He was a loyal soldier, one of the finest. He was on our side of the conflict, mind you. We weren't quite as picky as you all when it came to who could fight." The existence of the Greek camp was the worst kept secret among the upper echelons of the legion. There was no way that it could be kept hidden, it was just too obvious, especially to us, the Spec. So, when we asked Lord Jupiter about it, he laid down judgment, that we would abide their presence as long as they did not harm us. It was a quick and harsh disinformation campaign afterwards, to suppress dissent from the rank and file. It might have been a little too successful.
"You also didn't fight as a unit." I added, a hint of judgement in my tone.
"We didn't. Maybe that's why we were all better fighters, why we won." He shoots back, jovial tone vanishing. I held up my hands in surrender.
"I came here to broker no argument. I'm here as a traveler, and I'm sure you've heard of my own…"
"Severance of ties?" He proffered. "Now you can see for yourself if the Roman or Greek way is better."
"Perhaps." I growled, not appreciating the reminder and push to change too fast. Conversation dwindled, and I set myself checking my gear, unsure if I was dismissed or if he would swat me like a fly any moment now.
"If you're going to be here a while, maybe you'd consider doing me a favor?" Abe asked.
"I have an open calendar for, let's see, the rest of my life. What needs doing?" I snarked cheerfully.
"Atop Washington Monument is a nest for hippogriffs. Recently a manticore moved in and pushed them out. Mind clearing him out?"
"A manticore. On my own." I deadpanned.
"If it's too much…"
"I'll do it. But it better be worth it." I responded, yanking my spear of my back.
"I promise you, it will be worth it."
It wasn't hard to know where to go, the giant rock finger into the sky really was distinctive. And, it being so close, there was no way to get lost. I followed the path from one marble structure to the next, shades passing in and out of my vision as I passed the memorials. If you tuned out the traffic, you could hear the waling from Arlington. Thankfully, the monument was closed for the night. Picking the lock was a simple bump and wriggle, and I psyched myself on the elevator up.
Manticore: big, humanoid, scorpion tail. Intelligent and bloodthirsty. I hadn't faced a manticore personally, but a few of the older legionaries had. From their stories, I was expecting a fight.
Their stories did not do it justice. From the elevator, I followed the smell around the deck and up a hidden ladder. Atop the viewing deck was a semi-open area full of nests. It looked like an entire flock regularly roosted here. I pulled my spear into ready position and clicked my shield into place. I crept around, eyes searching in the gloom for the creature. A dark shape resolved itself next to one of the hay piles. I crept closer, and quick as a snake speared the body through the neck twice. When the pile didn't move, I realized that this was not a sleeping manticore. The hot breath on the back of my neck was the only warning I got as I dive forward, rolling over the rotting corpse of a griffin to avoid the armored sledge of the manticore's tail. I spun on my feet and flung my arm up, a double fist hammering on my shield. Two dark thorns clattered to the ground.
"You're more fun than the last one." It said, scuttling into the light. From claw to tail it was easily eight feet tall. It had a chest of matted fur, dark stains clumping together. The torso seamlessly bled into the armored carapace of a scorpion, six jagged legs supporting a massive tail, held poised to strike. Another spike was sent whistling past my ear as he stalked forward, his arms crossed.
"Oops. My bad." His eyes were the worst- red and beady. He knew that he was a monster, knew that he was horrible. He reveled in it. He loved it. Beneath his eyes was a terrible mouth, rimmed ever so slightly with dried red.
"Di immortals." I swore, retreating from his bulk. He laughed.
"Wow. Such a filthy mouth on you. Perhaps we should," a whirl of spikes thudding into the floor as I scrambled out of their path, "silence it." He finished, rushing forward. I jabbed my spear at him, sinking the tip deep into his side, but was forced to roll aside as he carried the shaft with him. He turned by means of running on the wall which was so not fair and ripped the spear out.
"Pathetic." He sneered, snapping the spear and throwing the pierces down. I drew my sword and crouched.
"For the 9th." I whispered, ducking his tail and hacking at his legs. It was a messy tangle of loose nesting and hard talons, my feet narrowly avoiding being stabbed or slipping as I laced his flank with shallow cuts. The stings seemed to only enrage him as he grabbed my armor and threw me across the room. I hit one of the griffon nests and skidded, catching the lip of the edge with my feet as I scrambled to stand up and defend against another slam.
Somewhere along the way he picked up a spear of his own, and though he wasn't amazing at it, it was just one more level of difficulty. We circled along the edge of the roost, him charging in and trying to run me through or impale me, me barely able to keep my defenses up in the face of such an onslaught but managing to attack whenever I had an opening.
Suddenly the inevitable happened, I slipped. It was unavoidable, with all of the straw and branches and random stuff tucked in here—was that an actual mattress over there? My foot gave out and I narrowly rolled away from the massive barb on the end of his tail. Chips of whatever the floor was made out of flew into my face as I kept rolling, barely ahead of the spine. My luck ran out once more as I felt my legs fall off the edge. My desperate dodging had taken me to the worst point possible- death by falling.
He drew back for a moment to gloat, me barely hanging on by my fingertips.
"Well, you proved a nice dancing partner, but I'm afraid the ball is drawing to a close. Any last requests? Though I have one first- don't let go. I'd hate to have to ride that stupid elevator back up here after I fetch your corpse."
"How, about no?" I grunted, swinging back and forth under the platform and leveraging the momentum to spring forward through the glass of the lower deck. I crashed through in a shower of crystal, everything aching.
"Might have been more than I could handle." I muttered, climbing to my feet and dusting glass off my clothes. I started walking as I picked a few shards out of my palms.
"Good show." He said, as an arm grabbed me through a different window and dragged me out. Of course, he could walk on walls. What did I expect of a mythical beast, both intelligent and cursed. He dragged me back up the monument to the roost, locking my arms behind my back.
"I'd rate you a six on the Polyphemus scale right now, purely on skill alone. How you taste will determine if you rate any higher. I once got a bite of Artemis, sorry, Diana herself. 12/10. Would taste again." He looped my wrists in some kind of chain and backed away. "Hold still- this will only hurt a lot. I hear its true agony. Until you die that is." He drew back, reared his tail up, and swung forward in a blur. Desperate, I snapped my hands forward, grey smoke blooming out and forming gauntlets as I ripped through the chains. I caught the end of his stinger, holding it mere inches from my gut.
"Not. Today. You. Foul. Beast." I spat, forcing him back with every word. Mustering all of my strength, I threw him from the roost, whipping him by his tail. He whirled into the darkness and I wrote the job done. I walked back to the chains, careful to not step on either griffin droppings or dead parts. Hanging next to where I had been were three other bodies. Human bodies.
Two were simply mundanes who had gotten pounced, all they had was their wallets and dead phones. I pocketed the cash and tossed the phones. Too much work to monster proof a cellular device.
The third was the earlier demigod the manticore referred to. He was wearing the garish orange that marked out the Greeks, but he had supplies. I tucked away the ambrosia, frowned over the quality of his knives, but stashed them anyway. Some digging found a quiver, which meant there was a bow around here too. In my searching, I lost track of my surroundings. I missed the quiet click, click, click of talons slowly edging their way across the floor.
"MOVE!" The shout came, and I rolled on instinct, the heavy whoosh of his tail flying past my shoulder yet again. It split the flooring, and he yanked it back with much vengeance. He reared up again, but a silver arrow sprouted from his armpit.
"Die!" He hissed, but another arrow stuck in his ribs before he shielded with his tail
"My lady will have you soon enough!" The girl shouted, raising a horn to her lips and sending out two short blasts. An answering call came from the west, and a narrow pile of lights surged across the green. The manticore hissed something nasty at us before he scuttled out of the aerie.
"You're lucky Lady Artemis sent me here." She said, before looking up, not seeing an orange shirt and turning pale. "Diana! Don't know why I called her by her heathen name, you know how those Greeks were! Lady Diana-"
"I'm aware of the existence of both camps." I stated, turning back to hunting around the ruins of the manticore's camp.
"Oh. I wasn't- I didn't know that anyone-" She stammered.
"Ex-legion." And it stung to say that. "Ex-Spec, to be exact."
"I wasn't aware the legion let people leave."
"We- They. They don't. Not normally. I'm a special case." I toss a tattered backpack at her. "See if that has anything of value."
She starts checking pockets, but her curiosity gets the better of her. "What made you special?"
"Drop it." I growl, prying open a locker.
"Okay. So, you were a Spec? We worked with you all once, over at-"
"Hoover Dam." I butt in. "I was on West, but I have some friends who met you all on East. Said you're not bad for mercenaries."
"Mercenaries!? We're much more than dirty mercs! We're proud maidens of the lady Arte-" She shuts up when she sees my face barely holding back a laugh.
"You're terrible."
"Yep. All joking aside, we do have a lot of respect for you all- you're highly competent and skilled. She trains you all well."
"She does have a reputation to uphold." The girl says.
"Yeah, but you all go beyond that. You're much more disciplined than some of our own, much less the gracia."
A flash of light suddenly shoots in, and the floor gives a warning rumble. I fall to one knee, head bowed.
"Khyra, what's taking you so-" Artemis asks, a bow in her hands. Silver knives are sheathed along her thigh. She's in the form of a young 20-year-old, silver circlet delicately woven into her hair.
"Milady." Khyra says, curtseying. Artemis gaze is on me, a steady weight of judgment. Of intent, of purpose, of identity. She gives a shiver and her form blurs, the circlet in her hair sharpening, the knives elongating. She gains three years in the blink of an eye, and full measure of attitude and sharpness.
"I had wondered if our paths would cross once more, Alyssa." Diana said, motioning for me to stand. "Last we met, you were quite tied to your comrades. You do not bear those bonds any longer."
"If you're asking if my answer has changed, it has not." I said, solemnly looking up and meeting her icy gaze. I could feel the power, the hunt and the moon, the wild and free spirit- the raw unbridled energy of the hunt and the fight in her gaze. Quickly, I looked away, lest I get drunk on the feeling. Lest I promise something that I'm not even sure is mine to give anymore.
"Shame. You'd make an excellent lieutenant." Diana sniffs.
Khyra gasps, "Milady!"
"Khyra, assist Alyssa here and then catch up with the rest of us. His trail headed North." She orders, giving a stern look at Khyra, then turning back to me.
"As for you, the offer still stands. Know this: I will always be loyal to my own. No matter what." It hit me at that moment, she knows. She knows what I am.
Diana took a running leap, and shifted into a falcon, winging her way toward the wayward hills.
"Alyssa, who exactly are you? Why does Lady-" Khyra starts, but I silence her with a look.
"Maybe if our paths cross again, but I can't. Not now." Angrily, I hit the last locker, which springs open and dumps a jacket and bow on me.
"Those are blessed by-" Khyra gasps. I note the clean feel, the sturdy make and the scent of wild freedom in the collar of the jacket. The bow feels light and sturdy, with two silver owl feathers hanging from the nock. I toss both to her.
"They're yours- they mean more to you." I say in lieu of an explanation and start walking toward the exit.
"Wait! Alyssa! I can't just take these! Alyssa! Damn you, wait up!" To my dismay, she catches me in the elevator.
"Look, I can't just bring these back. Lady Artemis left these there for a reason. You can't just-"
"I can't what? Refuse a gift from a god? Hate to break it to you, I've done it before. Hell, I ended up here because one wouldn't take no for an answer. So yes, take them. I don't want them." I shout, fighting the squirming in my stomach. SheKnowsSheKnowsSheKnowsDianaKnowsTheyAllKnowSheKnows
"Fine." A bow is thrust in my face. "If I'm taking these, then you take this one. I saw you looking for one. You've got a quiver and no bow. This one is a little used, but it works perfectly fine. If I'm taking this one back, then I don't need my old one anymore."
I take the offered bow, sliding it over my shoulder.
"You may not like me, but I hope we meet again. Don't die out there, not alone." Her eyes darken. "I've lost too many sisters that way. And you may not be one officially, but it's obvious she wants you. So, consider yourself adopted." Khyra turns and wraps her arms around me briefly before running off. It isn't until I'm halfway down the path that I realize that she slipped her horn in my bag.
"Safe travels." I whisper, shrugging the straps of my bag a little tighter.