An Ancient Awakening

by TheGodOfBlueCookies

We all know about the 7 and their great feats in the modern world, but what if one of them woke up to a strange new world around them. What would they do? Die like the teens they are? Or rise to become the greatest heroes in the Ancient world as well as the Modern world? Join them on another epic adventure, in the past

1. Chapter 1

An Ancient Awakening

I awoke with a start, a bugle horn in the distance that was loud enough to gather the attention of people and animals for miles around. My head is fuzzy, as if i was a newborn baby opening their eyes for the first time to a strange, new world. The air seemed thick with moisture and the stink of sweat as if i was in a quarry mine with no fresh air. The sunlight pierced my, what seemed to be a tent, and struck me in the face and i couldn't lift my hand high enough to block the hostile sun from my face. I used all of my strength to lift my upper body to an upright position so i could analyse my surroundings more thoroughly.

I was on a single layer of wool-like material that seemed battered and beaten, used way past its time. The floor of my tent was just grass, it seemed wet so the tent must of been pitched recently. In the corners next to the entrance where two tables, one with a few jars of urky green liquid and the other with bloodied rags. The corner behind me had a pack with food, a water canteen, some tools and a couple pairs of leather sandals.

The last corner brought most my attention to it, nestled there was a set of armour, a gold tinted chest piece with an intricate sword and shield design, iron straps linked together to form flexible shoulder pads and iron greaves that would reach right up to my knees. All of the armour would be tied together by a helmet that frilled out in a dark blue and white pattern.

I try to lift myself to my feet but my right arm buckles under my own weight as an intense pain shoots down my spine, coming from my right arm, just under my collarbone. I pull down what seems to be a cotton toga from my right shoulder to reveal a hole going right through my arm. It was bandaged but now that i see it, all the pain comes back to me, a stray arrow hit me right in the arm, and i feel the pain anew. I can feel something writhing under the bandages, sucking up my blood.

The bugle horn calls again and, against my pain induced mind, i try to get the armour on. I use my right arm to lift myself off the blood soaked leather and i fight my body that tells me to collapse and give up but i can hear people moving outside, carts rocking and rolling outside with a hoofed animal towing it away down the road, and people running past my tent in a light jog.

I take this as a sign to hurry up and get outside so i rush over to the armour, now ignoring all pain. The armour was made of iron stripes hinged together with leather straps and was very ornamental, the chest piece was very tough and fit around me so that it would protect my full chest but i could still move. The shoulder pads were made of strips of iron pieced together with blue-dyed leather so that i could still lift my arm with no problem but an arrow couldn't pierce my arm. As i thought, the iron greaves connected to my leather sandals and went up to my knee, but it was designed in a way that i could still run, jump and turn like i wasn't wearing a full set of heavy iron striped armour. Tucked away in the corner was a purple cape that attached to my armour and a dark red scutum shield that curved around to protect my whole body. Hidden in the shield was a pocket for what appeared to be a short gladius sword that had a strange golden handle and a regal orange pummel, for knocking people's heads in with.

The sword was made out of a compound of very strong bronze that seemed to have a constant glow about it, as if it was a celestial weapon of the gods. It was terribly well balanced and was light enough to swing multiple times in a few seconds, never making myself off balance in a powerful swing.

I peer my head out my tent long enough to get a look at my surroundings but short enough to avoid being seen. My tent was one of many, and it was larger than other tents around my own. We were in a basin, hills flanking us on three sides, all with wooden fortifications of walls and towers built on them. The one entrance where there was no hill, was filled with a mighty tall gate, with towers flanking it on the left and right.

People were running by in red armour, similar to my own but theirs lacked any colour or distinguishing features. As an old man passed with his donkey and cart in tow i can see that he is stacked with armour, weapons and equipment to fill the need of the biggest army i've ever seen. Another, younger boy tries to keep up as he's carrying his own cart, but he is carrying bread, grain, and water canteens. Enough to feed a city

The sun seemed to be lifting its head just to peek over the treetops as the wind made the trees bow their proud heads down toward us. The bugle horn sounds for a third time as i am debating whether to walk out my tent and join the armour-clad youths.

Everyone is sprinting towards the center of the camp as if a monster was in their tent so i decide to follow the few stragglers that are late.

I stride confidently out my tent, sure that my unique armour would make me a higher standard then all these pale faced boys, wishing they were men and the only words i discern from the groups of loud youth rabble are...

"General Grace is on his feet"