I woke up to an empty room. Great, they've abandoned me again, I thought resentfully, then immediately felt guilty. They had lives outside of me and my injuries. Jason and Dakota are centurions, remember, I thought, and they have jobs to do. Everyone has a part to play for the glory of Rome, after all. No position is small. All are equally important in the grand scheme, although it sounds like total bull. I'm not stupid enough to argue with a superior officer, especially after what happened to that girl that mouthed off. And because they carry deadly weapons at all times. Actually, that's probably the most important reason.
I had slept for hours, maybe days, as the sun was setting and cast a glow through the window, washing the room in orange. My throat felt better, sore, but no longer burning. I shuddered at the memory of the pain. That had truly been Fate conspiring against me. Or was it the Fates? I wondered if that was how vampires felt. An uncontrollable burning bursting in their throats….
While their throats burn, the fire increases when humans are near, Bob's all-too familiar voice spoke into my mind. The need for blood- to quench the fire in their throats- causes them to lose control and attack.
Nice to hear from you again, I thought sarcastically. Now how would you know, if you're a figment of my imagination and only know what I know?
Bob snorted in my mind. You of little faith, he said condolingly. Who said anything about me imaginary or a part of you? Well, he reconsidered, the part of you is somewhat accurate.
Who are you, then? I mentally screamed. What are you? What the Pluto are you talking about? And what are you doing in my head? Am I going insane!
Relax, he spoke soothingly, his deep voice echoing in my brain. You're not insane. And I'm not going to hurt you. I am a part of you, and have been from the day your mother died. Your father sent me to teach, protect, and nurture you, in all the ways a good Roman should be. I am but a servant, but you are destined to save my master. And his master, indirectly. Keep strong your faith, and know this: Your father cares. And he is watching.
I felt his presence diminishing, even as I mentally responded. Let's get something straight here, I snarled. You aren't a part of me. My father doesn't care. If he did, he wouldn't have killed my mother. I don't even know who he is. You didn't even tell me your name. I don't want to be a Roman, not if it means killing those close to me. Not at the cost of life. And I don't care about him. I want him to leave me alone and stay out of my life. Everything, everything, EVERYTHING sucky that's happened to me has happened because of HIM. Now get out of my head, and stay away from me!
Beware the daughter of Iris, Bob warned, his voice getting softer as he drifted away into the furthest corners of my consciousness. She will be your undoing.
He was still there, dormant in my head. My head felt the same as it had before he had spoken to me- empty. But I knew what to look for, and I could feel him curled in the recesses of my mind. There probably wasn't a way to get rid of him. But that sure as Jupiter didn't mean I wasn't going to try.
It was early the next morning that Jason came back to my little prison, fuming. I hadn't been able to get any more sleep, and had been wide awake, thinking about what Bob had said. Iris? What was he talking about? Was he another ghost that wouldn't leave me alone? A spirit from my past? Now that I lived in the mythological world, nothing seemed too ridiculous to be fiction. Every horror novel I read had flitted through my mind, keeping me wide awake.
"Slavery was outlawed," Jason growled as he entered. "The Civil War proved it was a bad idea. We need to get out of the old ways and realize that it doesn't work. It's not punishment. It's torture. They have no right to do this. The Senate is corrupt to allow this to happen. Making slaves of the sons and daughters of gods and goddesses is a stupid idea. Rome will make immortal enemies that will smite us in an instant. "
Gwen came in halfway through his rant and made a visible effort to stay out of his way as he paced the long room. "Don't forget the legacies," she added in a dull voice, anger clearly visible on her face. "Just because we're only descendants of gods and heroes doesn't make us any less important. But, in a depressing nutshell, yes."
"If the Senate keeps this up, the gods will no longer bless us," Dakota said. Gwen and Dakota turned towards him. Evidently, I wasn't the only one that hadn't seen the older centurion enter. "Camp Jupiter will burn and die, and another civil war will break out. One that we cannot win."
"We lost the first one," Gwen gently reminded him. He glared at her, the reminder causing him to scowl. He reached toward his belt, only to remember that he had given her his flask.
"We are Romans," he said, breathing deeply to ease his anger, his voice tight. "We don't lose."
"Only to Greeks," came a voice from the door. My friends whirled toward the door, Dakota and Gwen freeing swords and knives from their belts. Jason pulled a gold coin out of his pocket and clutched it tightly, ready to flip it at a moment's notice. I felt weak because I was lying in bed, defenseless, looking like an invalid with my throat wrapped in gauze and bandages.
Octavian strutted in like he owned the place. "Greetings, centurions," he said politely, nodding in their direction. Dakota growled softly. "And Gwendolyn, of course." He smiled distractedly, his crazy eyes looking directly at me. "I'd like a word with Mark for a minute. Privately."
He turned to Jason. "If you please, Centurion," he said after a second's pause. The two bowed respectfully- with a little resentment- to one another, and Jason motioned the others out the door. The peeling white wooden door that I had unwittingly stared at while I was off in my own world slammed shut after Dakota. The bang echoed in my head, and I internally winced. Was I really alone with this guy that my friend had made an enemy of? Isn't the saying the enemy of my friend is my enemy?*
After the door shut, Octavian pulled around the curtain (that I, of course, hadn't noticed earlier, being an idiot and not looking up) that hung between my hammock and the hammock next to me. I wondered if he was nuts, or if I was about to be seriously injured. He studied me with... concern. This was highly disconcerting, and made me wonder if I was dreaming and had actually fallen asleep. Maybe the whole Roman thing was a dream, after all….
That was too much to hope for, apparently. "How are you feeling? A simple gesture will suffice, of course." I nodded and rolled my eyes. He raised an eyebrow. "Come on. You can stop being Roman in the infirmary. We don't 'die all the time and like it,' as Vitallus the Ridiculous says." He laughed bitterly at that.
I shrugged halfheartedly, still wondering why he was there, and what my friends were up to.
"That's what I thought," he smirked slightly. He got up and went to the other side of the room, and opened a wooden cabinet. I heard the clinking of little glass pill bottles and the whoosh of water as he turned on a sink that I hadn't noticed. Octavian washed out a clear plastic cup that sat on the side of the sink. He then filled it with something that looked like apple juice. The juice came in what appeared to be a wine bottle from the cabinet. He stuck a bendy straw in it, and I immediately wondered if it was poisoned.
Pluto, I was unobservant. Staring at the door for hours, memorizing the patterns of the wood, instead of looking at the corners of the room where interesting stuff was located? Then again, I was only a ten-year-old kid with next-to-no Roman experience that had ingested freaking acid….
The augur walked back to my hammock, careful not to spill a drop of the liquid, and handed the cup to me. "Drink," he commanded. I looked at him for a moment, the cup secure in my grasp. I wasn't totally weak, after all. "It'll make you feel better," he explained. I took a cautious sip. It tasted nothing like apple juice. It was somehow warm and sweet, like the liquid vanilla ice cream my aunt gave me when I earned all A's for the year in kindergarten.
Before I knew it, the glass was empty. My forehead felt slightly warm, like the beginning of a fever. "When your friends in the Fifth return, motion to the glass by the sink. If they ask if you had nectar, nod vigorously. Too much nectar- or ambrosia, for that matter- will make a demigod or legacy burn up. Literally. As to my presence…" Octavian shrugged. "I had to make sure you were ok. After all, I allowed you into Camp Jupiter, listening to your story against my better judgment."
"But why?" I spoke hoarsely. It hurt- a lot- to speak, and it was probably a stupid idea, anyway, but I had to ask.
Octavian scowled. "Shut up!" he demanded, looking at the door fearfully. "I don't have much time left to talk with you- well, to you, actually- as it is, without you talking! Your friends will approach any second. If they hear that I had you talk, I will be in so much trouble!"
It was funny, the thought of the augur scared of two centurions and a soldier from the Fifth. It probably had something to do with Jason, as he didn't appear to be afraid of Dakota in Jupiter's temple. Jason had been there, too, though… He sure acted confident and arrogant if he was actually afraid of those three.
"I'm helping you because you are going to help out this camp. I can't let you die now. Or be handicapped for life after a war game. As you heard during your acceptance into the Legion, there is a war coming. And you will play a major part in it. As will your friends, from what the gods have shown me in the stuffing. Besides that…" he trailed off awkwardly. I waited expectantly, my eyes wide.
"It's what my dad would have done. He was the augur before me, and he always tried to help the soldiers from all the cohorts. Citizens, he called them. We're all members of Rome, no matter what our occupation or stance in life." He smiled regretfully, his eyes dark. "It's my goal in life to be like him. It is expected of me, anyway. I must live up to his , for it is the duty of the son to surpass his father. His legacy was the best gift he could have given me."
He looked like he was alone, off in his own little world where no one could bring him back. I knew the feeling all too well. Octavian snapped back to reality suddenly, his face expectant.
"As part of my resolution, I want to help you in whatever way possible. Prepare you for your fate. To do this, I will contact the gods… and help you discover the identity of your father."
I was going to leave off here, but… I have been neglecting writing, and this story needs to pick up the pace. So….. MORE WRITING!
I'll admit it- I was shocked.
Who would have thought Octavian would be willing to help me find my father? I still didn't understand why. After losing his father, I sort of realized that he didn't want anyone else to have to go through what he had, but how would he know anything about my heritage? I hadn't even told Gwen, Jason, or Dakota
I opened my mouth to speak, but he put his hand up. "What did I tell you about speaking?" he hissed, then sighed. "I saw your mother and father in a vision two years ago. In almost a flashback from the future. It was a dark cave with Latin on the walls… I didn't have enough time or light to make it out. I was only concentrating on the two beings. It was the first time I was able to see the future, and my old man told me it was crucial to the fate of Rome- the first vision an augur sees always is."
My jaw dropped. He knew? But how was I important to anyone or anything? Rome was fine without me! I was just the new recruit with a demon inside his head, for crying out loud!
Hey, Bob said. I'm not a demon. And I can hear you, you know.
I had felt him stirring in my mind when Jason came in. Evidently, he wasn't one to miss out on the action.
I can go through your thoughts, hear what you've heard, see what you've seen, but that takes work. It's easier to "awaken," as it is, and observe the here and now. This way, I give you privacy as well.
Congrats, I snarled. You're gifted. Awesome. Now get the Jupiter out of my head or gods help me-
Then Dakota burst into the room, sword in hand, Jason and Gwen at his heals. "You've had your talk, slimeball," he growled menacingly. "Now get your podex out of here this instant!"
"I wasn't done," Octavian said politely, a slight edge of menace in his voice. I wasn't sure if he was scared stiff or if his earlier fears had been an act.
"You've had your minute," Gwen smiled, anger in her voice. "Actually, twenty of them. Now, out."
He sighed. "Thank you for your time, Mark." He bowed deeply, as if the pleasure had been all his. "And thank you, members of the Fifth, for your patience." This time, his bow was shallow, almost sarcastic. But I had seen a hint of genuine gratitude when he apologized- probably because he was looking at Gwen, who had most likely stopped Jason and Dakota (but mostly Dakota) from busting out the (magic) weapons and breaking down the door nineteen minutes ago.
As the door shut behind the augur, Gwen glanced at me, her eyes betraying her concern.
"What just happened?" she asked, standing by my hammock awkwardly. Whoever had designed this medical prison had neglected to add chairs for visitors. But what normal Romans visited allies in the infirmary? They would be on the battlefield, trying to extract revenge on the enemies that injured the friend in the first place…
I shrugged once, then spoke in a raspy voice. It made me feel better, despite the pain, to speak. It assured me that I wouldn't permanently lose it.
"I have no idea."
Dakota glared at me. "If you don't stop talking, I'll get a medic in here to stitch your lips shut," he threatened. Then his glare softened. "Get some rest, okay, kid? We have war games tomorrow, and everyone is required to attend."
"Even the invalids," Jason said for my benefit, smiling cheerfully. I scowled at him, sticking my tongue out childishly.
Gwen ushered the two centurions out the door. She turned the light off after they were out of the room. Before she could fully shut the door, I was out cold.
Ok, I'm gonna (try and) make this quick, because most of my AN's are ridiculously long compared to most authors'. If you like the AN's before and actually read them… Wow. I'm impressed. I have to remind myself of K.I.S.S. More story, less AN.
Sorry for not updating for so long. Between lack of inspiration and no time and lots of homework…
I also must apologize for the ending. I didn't know where to leave off, and I wanted to end after "I have no idea," but Dakota's reactions are fun to write.
Gods, I'm failing with Octavian. I'm trying to make him a good Roman- polite, respectful, and violent- with hints of the side he shows us in SoN. I'm also trying to keep my personal biases out of this… Eh. He doesn't seem like the nutcase he is in SoN, but he'll get there. Plus, I added background, so we can sympathize with him and maybe even get to like him before he goes all power-hungry on us. Which is what Romans do (best), I guess.
*Ok, I know what the saying is. Enemy of my enemy is my friend. Keep in mind, this is a ten year old. Who acts like a teenager. I need to remember this as well.
Also, I know my formatting has issues. I sometimes have multiple people talking in one paragraph. The way I do it is by length and when I feel like it works- but clearly, it doesn't always. I'm improving, though!
I thought about making Mark mute. The idea was very entertaining. But his life is going to suck enough without being unable to speak. This is his (only) reprieve. I hope he enjoys it while it lasts.
Review!
Dang, this is going to end up being 70 chapters at this rate. I planned to have the time skip by now… Maybe one more normal chapter in this timeline, then time skip, when…. Well, read on and find out.
Until then,
-33