Disclaimer: I do not own all characters in this fanfiction. The general and some of the characters belong to Rick Riordan. Some of the characters I have made, and some I have acquired the permission to use.

II

NATHAN

Nathan nervously walked into the Praetor's office, unsure of the commitment he was about to make. He had given it a whole to think about ever since his brothers… A year ago, his older brothers, twins to each, Devin and Dwayne, betrayed the Twelfth Legion Fulminata, murdering many of the Greek veterans from the Second Gigantomachy. He had been emotionally distressed for a whole year. To make things worse, his father, whom the two were supposedly fighting for, had descended into a drunken cycle. Between the occasional beatings he would give him and his mother, Nathan was anything but okay.

The House of Coll stands so nobly, Nathan thought to himself. His hand rubbed over the most recent bruise, which was in its most painful phase. And here I am, throwing myself to the wolves.

Nathan walked into the Principia, where he found a busy Praetor Hannah Copperfield. Her blond hair spilled over her as she was busily writing down notes, checking papers, etc. He stood there for a couple of minutes before she even realized he was there. She looked up and saw him standing over the table.

"Oh, Legionnaire Coll, you're here," the praetor said to Nathan. "… why are you here?"

"Um, you requested my presence here, ma'am," Nathan said after saluting his superior officer. The wise and powerful Hannah Copperfield orchestrated the defense of New Rome during its darkest moments. She also stopped a previous coup of the city, alongside the legendary Katrina Darrow.

"Oh… OH!" she said. She quickly moved around some papers on her desk, and pulled out some new ones. Nathan tried counting all the stacks of paper, but gave up after the first dozen. The Praetor was indeed busy. It made him just a little hesitant of taking up Centurion, if he ever got around to becoming one.

In the Legion, Nathan was often spoken about with a sour tongue. People talked about him behind his back, mostly for what his brothers did. Still, even in his own Cohort, the Fourth, Nathan felt like an outsider. The whole city felt just as unwelcoming. Vendors felt compelled to provide service to soldiers, except to him. He was just a public beating and humiliation short of becoming a pariah.

"Sorry, the War Ball Tournament has created a legal documents to come my way," the praetor apologized. She opened up a folder, which had several documents inside, some with words completely covering them, others with empty dashes left for probably signatures on them. "I know the past year has been… difficult. What your brothers did… it must have been the last thing you would imagine them doing."

It was, Nathan thought to himself. It still is.

"But I also believe the Fates work in mysterious ways," she continued. She got up out of her desk and walked over to a map of the United States. There were a couple of thumbtacks on some particular locations, like the two demigod camps, and a couple of locations of interest. "Nathan, the war last year showed us that our relationship with our Greek neighbors is… testy at best."

"But what does this have to do with me?" he asked nervously. "I mean, I know what brothers did was wrong, but I never took part in it."

"I'm not saying anything is your fault," she said, putting her hands to try to calm him. As far as Nathan knew, Hannah was respected by her peers, a model for women in the Legion (alongside Katrina Darrow), and possibly a future hallmark in future archives of the Legion. She was nothing like Nathan, the outcast, the dishonored. "What I'm trying to do for you is offer you a possible solution to your current problem."

"What do you want me to do?" Nathan asked, still somewhat suspicious of the praetor's intentions. He didn't think he should be held accountable for something he didn't do. But he also felt somewhat responsible. Responsible that he didn't try to stop them before they committed to the act. Praetor Amos had tried to convict of being an accessory to treason, but the charges were dropped. It wasn't until after the hours and hours of interrogations did the praetor not find anything solid enough to pin him with.

"We need to renew our relationship with the Greeks," she explained, crossing her arms and sighing. "And I think you should be the one for the job."

"Me, why me?" he asked. If he was going to be the one go to the Greeks, he might as well kill himself where he stood. The Greeks probably hated him and his brothers just as much as his own people did, if not worse. Nathan wasn't comfortable about becoming the sacrificial lamb. "You're not talking about like… sacrificing me are you?"

"No, Olympus, no," the praetor reassured him. Nathan let out a sigh of relief. "I want you to become the next ambassador to the Greeks."

"Don't I have to be elected to that position?" Nathan asked, his eyes narrowing on the praetor. He was curious, but still highly suspicious. "I could never win an elected position."

"Surprisingly, the office is appointed by the two and only," she said, giving a mock bow. "The office was founded during my father's term, with Praetor Marcus North. Lucius Darrow was the first ambassador to the Greeks. He was there when they signed the peace charter, officially ending the Greco-Roman conflict that broke out during the Second Gigantomachy."

Nathan was familiar with the history lesson. He was a descendant of Minerva, after all, just as she was. Although totally uncommon, almost thought to be impossible, there were demigods of the goddess Minerva, but only every once in a while. Most of them make it past the history books. People like George Washington, an acclaimed son of the Greek Athena, was at one point or another, suspected of actually being a son of Minerva. A Roman, like his fellow Southerners. To think, someone like Nathan and George Washington would have an identity crisis, Washington's being Roman or Greek, Nathan's friend or enemy of the state, made him feel a little optimistic about himself.

But unlike Nathan, Washington was always regarded as a hero, something the legionnaire never thought he would surmount to.

"I'm not like them," Nathan said at one point. He paced around for a second. "I'm not like your father, Jack Copperfield, Marcus North, or Lucius Darrow. I'm not like any of them. I come from a house of no honor. These men… they're so much greater than I'll ever be."

"Nathan, that's not true," she tried to persuade him. "My father was part of the Third Cohort, he made his own legacy through his skill. Marcus North did the same. Lucius Darrow was almost executed at one point."

Nathan had forgotten about that event. Even great heroes of the previous generation had their moments. Lucius Darrow, despite being known for his relationship with the Greeks, was tried for murder and treason, found guilty and put to death. His godly parent, Mars had just intervened at the right moment. Trial by might. His metal was to be tested by the would-be challenger.

Just maybe… he thought to himself. No. I can't.

"I can't do this," he said. "I can't do this right now."

"I may have been a bit too sudden, perhaps you could take the rest of the day to think about my offer?" she suggested.

"I… I need to go," Nathan said. He still stood there, though, hoping he would be dismissed soon. He needed some place to think, somewhere to think about this. "Praetor Copperfield, please."

"Very well, you're dismissed," she said, dismissing him.

Nathan quickly exited the Principia. He didn't even think about stopping by Camp Jupiter, but headed straight home. Camp was no place for him to think.

Eyes looked down on him as tugged and threw his way into the city. Old wives spoke to each other, peering at him at the same time. Children ran around him, taunting him, throwing things at him.

"Please, stop," Nathan said, hoping the children would listen to him. He was dressed in his full armor, but weaponless, as Terminus was on border regulation. He had no means of defending him, other than his desperate pleas, but they fell on deaf ears. The children kept on throwing rocks, whatever they could, at him. The old women kept on gossiping. They madness kept on with its cycle, on and on and on and on. "Please!"

It was then he lost control, unleashing a wave of darkness, throwing the children off their feet, shattering several vases, and causing general panic. The children cried, as some of them were hurt, while the old wives began to mob around him, some calling for Terminus to allow the Legion to deal with him.

In seconds, Nathan could hear the marching. Public gatherings were often monitored by the authorities, due to the events of last year. Nathan knew that he was already on his last straw. If they found him here, there would surely be trouble.

Desperately, Nathan tried to think of a plan as the old women began to attempt to apprehend him. He tried to pulling away, but there were too many of them. And he had already hurt some of the children, he didn't want to hurt anyone else. He just wanted to be left alone.

Just then, he thought of a plan. Tapping into his powers from his Pluto lineage, Nathan threw himself into the shadow that laid out on a wall. In one instant, he was shadow-traveling, in the next, he fell to his bed, the stench of old lady hands still fresh on him.

Nathan almost broke out into tears as he laid in bed. He had been close to being assaulted like that, but never so violently. He wanted to hide in the darkness forever, away from the abuses, away from the revenge the people held in their hearts. But the darkness, as he knew, was no place for him to be.

Emerging from a midday's slumber, he found the usual scene in the living room. His father, Mark Coll, one of the veterans who had fought in the Second Gigantomachy, was already a couple of drinks in for the day. Nathan knew that he was just getting started. Hopefully it wouldn't turn in to another one of his beating sessions. He just had to make it past his father and all would be…

"Where did you come from?" his father asked, his voice rough from the burn of drink. He didn't even turn his head, he just knew he was there. Nathan could never evade him. The harder he tried, the more he was disappointed in himself. "Are you deaf? I asked you where did you come from?"

"My… room, dad," Nathan said timidly. He was trying to play his words carefully. "I came from my room just now."

That was when his father turned his head. He could see the angry eyes glaring at him.

"Oh, so now you're getting smart on me?" his father said, his voice beginning to pick up. Nathan's breathing started to also pick up. The nearly-drunken veteran got up out of his chair, the television on high volume. "Your brothers thought they were so smart. They thought they could change the world. You think you can change the world, too?"

"No, no I don't," he said, taking a step back. He quickly found the wall. "I don't think I'm going to change the world."

He slapped Nathan across the face. Nathan hit the wall and fell from his feet. His father stood over him, his breath putrid and revolting.

"No, you don't," he said, pouring his drink onto him. "You aren't ever going to change the world with an attitude like that."

"Please, stop!" Nathan pleaded. "Dad, please!"

"Did your brothers stop when they cried out like you're doing now?" he shouted down at him from above. "YOU'RE PATHETIC! YOU'RE NOTHING! YOU'LL NEVER BE ANYTHING!"

Tossing the bottle at him where he was, Nathan kept himself coiled up on the floor. When his father wasn't looking, he quickly ran for the first shadow he could find and shadow-traveled through it.

When he got out through the other side, he ended up at the base of Temple Hill. The sky was just darkening and falling to dusk, soon night. He didn't want to have to deal with the townspeople, so he decided he would wait them out there.

Making his way up the path, he realized how lonely the place was. There wasn't anyone around, which made it the ideal place to wait out someone. It also made it an ideal place to contemplate, to think. He wandered about the shrines of each god. Of course, Jupiter Optimus Maximus (the best and greatest) stood the most prominent, but Nathan didn't feel much affiliation to the king of Olympus. No, he felt himself more drawn to the shrines of Minerva and Pluto. He figured he would try Minerva first.

At the shrine of Minerva, Nathan tried to call out to the goddess.

"Minerva, hear my plea," Nathan called out.

Nothing.

He tried once more and found no success.

"Maybe it's your day off?" Nathan said to the statue of Minerva.

No response.

Maybe she didn't like him. Maybe she too found him responsible for the actions of his brothers. He figured he would try Pluto, but didn't put too much hope into it.

"Pluto, hear my plea," Nathan said half-heartedly to the shrine of Pluto. It was minuscule at best. It seems no one liked Pluto. "I guess we really are related."

Just then, the fires of the shrine began to light greenish in color. They then shot up to a considerable height, dancing, painting pictures and such.

Nathan Coll, why have you called upon me? a voice from the fires spoke to him. Why do you plea for the lord of the Underworld?

"I wanted advice… I think," Nathan said nervously. "I was offered a position for ambassador to the Greeks of Camp Half-blood."

A position of power given so freely has its benefits and rewards, the voice of Pluto responded. But know this, you must always be on guard of your peers, for they will always seek to cheat you, to put themselves above you.

"I don't think that's what Praetor Copperfield had in mind… " Nathan muttered to himself.

Indeed it is! the voice of Pluto corrected. Heed my words, Nathan Coll, son of my son! For I too have been cheated by people who sought a "fair" agreement. Exchanging words for a living is dangerous, more so than it would appear. But you must be as sharp as your tongue, and your blade sharper. Make something of yourself. Rise.

Suddenly, the flames died down, leaving a very unsure Nathan in its wake.

The following morning…

Nathan stood in front of the door to the Principia. He had thought about the offer, and what advice Pluto had to impart. He felt even more unsure than he did the previous day. He had hoped he was making the right decision.

Into the Principia he entered, finding both of the praetors preparing for a long day's work, coffee mugs on both of their desks. Nathan and Praetor Amos met eyes, of which Nathan broke, glancing toward Praetor Copperfield.

"Howard, you're scaring him," Praetor Copperfield said to her opposite. "Please, stop."

"Right… " Howard said, getting up from his seat and going into an adjacent room.

"I'm sorry about that," she said to him once they were alone. "Ever since the war, he's been on edge. He's lost a lot, you know."

"I know the feeling," Nathan commented. Hannah smiled, but not as a comical response, but a rather an empathetic gesture. "Praetor, I've made my decision."

"Now Nathan, I know it's a lot, but if you don't want to you don't have- " she began to say before she was cut off.

"I accept," he quickly said.

"What?" she asked, unsure of what she heard.

"I said 'I accept,' " Nathan repeated himself.

"Oh, that's good!" she said excitedly. "That's really good!"

Inside Nathan wanted to break down into tears. That was the first time anyone has praised something he did in a very, very long time.

"Well, I don't have an assignment yet, but I imagine I'll be sending you to Camp Half-blood pretty soon," she continued. "Thank you, Nathan. This really means a lot to us."

"I'll try not to let you down," Nathan said to the praetor.

At least I hope I won't.