Hi. I don't know if you can see what I can, but I know you're there. I know you can hear me.

Today, Father let us go to the Circus Maximus to see the races. Hylla seemed excited, and I was too. Father was drinking again and getting angry. Hylla told me she wanted to get me out of the house. I don't really get to go too far from the house that much. I really wanted to see the horses and the chariots, but Hylla didn't seem all that interested when we got there. She kept me close, though, and I was happy to be alone with her. I think she was just glad to not be near Father.

We didn't get to see the end of the race, though. A man approached us and started saying weird things to Hylla. She asked him to go away, but he wouldn't. He started getting too close and tried to touch her. So she did as Father taught us and fought him, even though he was a grown-up. She hit him, and he hit back. I was scared, and I didn't know what to do.

Then some soldiers came. They pulled the man and my sister apart, and then dragged her away. I ran after her, begging the men to let her go. They wouldn't. They dropped her outside and told us not to go back in. I could tell she was upset and sad, but she said she was fine. I didn't believe her. I hugged her, and she hugged me back. I never saw the man get kicked out.

Hylla took me back home. Father was angry. He said he wanted a chance to be alone for once without any burdens. He wanted to know why we were back so soon. I didn't want him to punish Hylla for getting us kicked out, so I told him the races closed early. He yelled at me for lying to him. Then he hit me. He told me to go to my room. I can still hear him shouting. I hope he doesn't hit her too.

My face still hurts, but not so much when I'm talking to you. Thanks for listening. I just wish you'd talk back.


Reyna's father sat watching the two sisters in his chair, gently pressing the tip of his dagger up against his finger. A droplet of blood ran down the blade, but he didn't seem to notice. His daughters were swinging sticks at each other like swords. He egged them on, demanding to see the skills he'd taught them. Then Reyna made a mistake, and she lost her stick.

The young girl shut her eyes tight and waited for her sister's strike to come, but it never did.

"What are you waiting for?" their father demanded. "Hit her!"

"She's already disarmed," Hylla said through gritted teeth.

"So what? The girl won't learn if she doesn't suffer for her mistakes! Hit her!"

Hylla looked her father in the eyes with a defiant expression. "No."

He lowered his dagger, then spoke in a low, deadly tone. "What?"

"No," Hylla repeated.

Alarmed, Reyna grabbed her sister's arm. "Hylla, please! Just do it!"

"No," Hylla said a third time, not taking her eyes off their father.

The former soldier let out a grunt of frustration. He pushed himself up from his chair and advanced on Hylla so rapidly that neither girl had time to react. He grabbed her stick and tried to wrench it from her hands, but she fought to keep hold. Reyna saw his dagger fall to the floor.

"I will not stand for disobedience!" their father shouted.

"It's the only thing that's gotten you to stand all day!" Hylla spat.

Smack!

Hylla tumbled back and landed on her rear, a red spot on her face. Their father stood over her triumphantly, stick in hand. Reyna had dropped hers and now stood staring, horrified. She'd never seen her sister stand up to their father before. Neither knew first hand what the consequences of doing so would be. He swung; Hylla cried out. From the corner of her eye, Reyna could still see the dagger on the floor.

"You learn —!" He hit her again. "— through discipline!"

Hylla couldn't get up; she couldn't fight back. Her father's attacks persisted too swiftly and too violently. All she could do was curl up and try to absorb the blows with her arms. Reyna stood frozen, looking between them and the dagger on the floor.

The stick snapped. The man persisted in his beating, now using his fists. Hylla's cries of agony and fear couldn't be suppressed. They came more frequently and more loudly. Reyna stared at the dagger on the floor.

A quiet, disturbing sound that Reyna would never forget seemed to reverberate around the room. At the same time, her father gasped, and the beating ceased. There was silence. Hylla, quivering and bleeding, looked up with terrified eyes. Reyna slowly backed away, her eyes widened in shock. The dagger was no longer on the floor.

He kept his balance for five seconds before falling onto his back. A pool of blood slowly formed next to him. He gripped the hilt and shakily pulled his own dagger out of his side, then it involuntarily slipped from his fingers. The crimson puddle began to grow more rapidly. He stared at his youngest daughter, and she stared back with hands shaking just as much as his. She saw no fear in his eyes — still only anger.

Not a word was said. Hylla sat frozen, staring at her younger sister with an expression she couldn't read. Tears fell from Reyna's eyes, who was in as much disbelief as everyone else.

"You. . . bitch!" The girls' father, bleeding profusely, started to get up.

Reyna looked at her sister one more time, who still didn't move. Then she turned and ran.


Hi. I know I haven't talked to you in a while, but I really need you right now. I hope you're still listening, because you're all I have left.

I don't know where Hylla is, and Father's dead. I — I'm sorry. I know you're confused, but I'm not ready to tell you about what happened. Let's just talk about something else — anything else.

I met my mother today. Her name is Bellona, and she's a goddess. Father. . . he never talked about her. He'd throw things and shout whenever I tried to ask. Hylla. . . she never tried. Maybe she'd already learned not to by the time I could talk.

Bellona, or Mother, spoke to me for a while. She told me a lot of things, some that I didn't understand. She said I'm a demigod, and that means I'm important. I have powers, and a destiny. I'm supposed to become a warrior. I told her I didn't know how to do that, and she said she knows.

I'm on a boat now, but there's no crew. I don't know why, but the boat is on land, somewhere away from the city. She left a bunch of food in the cabin, so I ate a lot of it; I've been starving these past few days. It's too bad she left before I could thank her.

I'm going to sleep now. My mother told me when I wake up, I'll be somewhere else. I'm going to meet someone who'll help me. I decided to believe her, but I don't know how this boat is supposed to move on land. I'll talk to you again in the morning. I hope you'll still be there.


Alone in the woods, hand on her sheathed sword, Reyna stood on alert. It was dim with small rays of light darting through the treeline from the full moon above. She wanted to believe the light source meant that Diana was watching over her, but felt that'd be hoping too much. If the goddess of the hunt was watching right now, she thought, it was because something else was hunting her.

The girl, a few years shy of womanhood, slowly pivoted, eyes darting about and ears trained carefully. And she waited for the unknown predator to make its move.

Her weapon was drawn within the same second she heard a deep, distinctly human, growl. A beast with a grey coat bounded from a bush toward her. She sidestepped at the perfect moment, and a hound's whimper came from her attacker. Her blade, previously clean, was now spotted with flecks of crimson. Reyna twisted so that she faced the monster in a proper stance, but hesitated to strike.

The beast turned to face her with bared fangs, and it stood up on two legs. It had a deep gash across its swollen stomach, painting its fur red, but it didn't seem to care. It glanced at her blade with intelligent eyes, in which the girl could see a burning hatred. It looked ready to pounce, but she decided to try and stall.

"Wolves are supposed to hunt in packs," she said, feigning calmness.

"I'm more man than wolf, demigod," the werewolf spat, not surprising her with its ability to speak.

"You don't look it."

"Insolent child!" It leaped toward her with astonishing speed.

Reyna rolled away, simultaneously opening a new wound on its body. It didn't wait to attack again, putting her training to the test. It lashed out with dirty, razor-sharp claws, and she responded with a swing that should have severed its hand. Instead, the blade bounced off its bone and threw a splash of blood into the air. She was left vulnerable, not adequately reacting in time to a swipe from its second paw. A chunk of fabric was severed from her tunic, but the nail missed her skin.

The young demigod began to sweat profusely. It was taking all of her willpower to suppress her fear and keep focused. The werewolf attacked swiftly and ferociously, but she had the reactions and skill to remain unharmed. She was growing tired, but the beast never slowed, despite the countless wounds it'd sustained from her blade.

"Iron can't kill me, stupid girl!" it said, now bleeding from more than a dozen lacerations.

Silver, she remembered. Silver could kill werewolves. She didn't have any silver.

Eventually, when Reyna was sure she was overdue for a slip-up she wouldn't be able to recover from, a growl met her ears — it hadn't come from the beast in front of her. A massive wolf with a hide of deep scarlet jumped over Reyna's head and tackled the werewolf away. The cursed creature, smart enough to fear the wolf goddess, instantly turned and ran, first throwing one last hateful look the demigod's way.

While it fled, the girl dropped to a knee and took a moment to catch her breath. With a bowed head, she ashamedly kept her gaze from Lupa, who was no doubt disappointed that she'd needed to be saved from her first monster encounter.

"You've done well, my cub," said the bestial goddess.

Reyna, doubting her ears, didn't look up. "I failed, my lady."

"You were ill-equipped. Not having access to one specific monster's sole weakness is not your failure. You held your own, far longer than most would have, and therefore have proven yourself."

The young demigod looked at her mentor, still not sure she'd heard correctly. "My lady?"

Lupa sat before her on her hind legs, her face stoic as usual, but eyes warm. "You're among the fastest learners I've ever trained, Reyna Arellano. You prodigiously mastered every form of combat I could teach you, and absorbed my knowledge and wisdom like fabric does liquid. You've nothing more to learn from me."

Reyna hesitated to respond. "Are you certain?"

"As ever. You're no longer the scared child that your mother delivered to me those few years ago. Soon you'll be a woman, but already you're a warrior. I repeat — you've nothing more to learn."

The girl stared. She opened her mouth to speak, but whatever she'd planned to say didn't come out, because she suddenly disagreed. Reyna may not be a child anymore, but she was scared. Since she'd killed her father, Lupa had been the only home she had. If there was nothing more to learn, that meant that'd be lost to her. How could she just move on, leave the wolf goddess behind and go off on her own? What would she do? This was all too sudden. Since that awful day, the girl had done little more than train to defeat any foe that dared face her, but she'd never prepared for this.

"There has to be," the youth said at last. "I'm not ready to leave."

"You are, my cub," said Lupa. "You know this."

"I'm not. . . Where would I go?"

"Where do you want to go?"

She didn't know. She wouldn't have asked if she did. Reyna was about to exasperatedly state as such, but then took a calming breath and a moment to think. Then the answer seemed obvious.

"Rome," she said.

"You believe you'll find your sister there?" said the wolf goddess, knowing Reyna well enough to understand her thought process.

"It's the last place I saw her. I wouldn't know where else to look."

"Then it sounds like Rome is where you must return. I do have one last piece of advice for you, though. Do not tie your destiny with hers. You've gone down different paths. If they don't cross naturally, it may hinder your own progress to try and force them to."

"She was all I had. I must find her."

"You mustn't destroy yourself in the search, my cub. It's a big world, and you could die of old age before exploring every place you thought she could be. Do what's best for you."

Although undeterred, Reyna said, "I understand."


Hello. . . I would apologize for having ignored you these past years, but I know you're not real now. Maybe I even knew then. I'm honestly not sure.

This is so stupid. I'm a trainee in Rome's greatest legion, and I'm talking to. . . I don't even know what to call you. A figment of my imagination, I suppose, is most accurate. I created you because I needed someone to share my difficulties with. I never wanted to burden Hylla with them because I knew she had too many of her own. That resulted in you. I'm still not certain why that helped me so much. I never even gave you a voice. I never pictured a face. As a child, I only needed someone to listen to me. Perhaps I just hadn't dared to ask for more. If I had, I might have done the simple thing and prayed instead. But I think I trusted your ear more than the gods'.

I suppose if I'm going to do this, I should do it right. You helped me as a child; I hope you can still help me now. I need to get you filled in so you can understand what I'm going through — at least, as well as something I fabricated can understand anything.

I can't remember the last time I spoke to you, so I'll just start with meeting Lupa. I was a terrified girl who knew little more than that I loved my sister, she was gone, and I — I had done something unthinkable. Lupa took me in as one of her own and raised me, trained me, as she had Romulus and Remus. I learned a great deal from her. On day one I improved more as a fighter than I ever had with. . . with Father. I took to combat rather quickly, mastering the sword, dagger, spear, and everything else she put in my hands. A majority of my time was actually spent sitting down, learning. She taught me of the gods, the myths, my people's history, other people's history, among other things. Most significantly, she taught me how to be brave.

One day, she decided I'd graduated her care. I had nothing more to learn from her, and so I was on my own. My life was supposed to pick up from there. I was a new person, practically a woman already, and had the world at my heel. But, as you can guess, things instead got a lot worse. I was alone with no one to rely upon — not even you — and clueless as to what I was meant to do. So I returned to Rome. I wanted to find my sister, partly just to know that she was doing fine, but more so that I could have someone to share my sad existence with.

I searched the city for weeks. I asked, I begged, I pleaded, and I prayed. There was no sign of her anywhere. The people who'd moved into our old house had no knowledge of the previous residents, and everyone else I asked was equally uninformed as to Hylla's whereabouts. Some did recognize our surname, Arellano, however. The story in circulation was that someone had broken into our home, murdered Father, and kidnapped his two daughters. I decided it was in my best interest to stick with that story.

Soon enough, I'd lost the bravery Lupa had taught me. I lost hope. My sister wasn't in Rome, and I could name a hundred cities where I'd be equally likely to find her. My search hit a dead end. Hylla was gone, and I had no way of finding her. The only chance I had left was my mother, who never responded to my prayers.

I was homeless, starving, and sick of hearing abhorrent propositions from men, most of whom were at least twice my age. I began crying in private when my thoughts got too dark. I struggled to find meaning in my life, but wasn't ready to give up on it yet. So I sought solace where most men in my situation did: the legion.

I was instantly laughed at, which didn't help my state of mind. Not only was I underage, but I was also female. They thought I was the last thing that should be enlisted into their ranks, insinuating they'd sooner put a pig in a suit of armor. I wasn't ready to give up. I hadn't yet lost my determination, so I challenged them. They thought that saying yes would bring in more entertainment, but their jaws fell when I won the duel. I told them my name, and they recognized it. They told me to come back in a week.

I did, and now I'm a trainee, a rank hitherto unheard of before me. Usually, new recruits are made probatios. My custom rank basically means I sleep in a shed refurbished for living quarters and spend my days doing chores. Near afternoon is when my personal instructor comes around to drill me on how to be a legionnaire and run me through training exercises. Since I'm already an adept fighter, he also chose to spend the spare allotted time teaching me Greek. I'm fed and supplied with a bed I can call mine, which is nice, but I'm still alone. Until I'm of age, that's my life. I still doubt it'll be improving from here.

I hope you're not waiting for me to get to the happy ending; I wouldn't be talking to you if there was one. I'm alone, only interact with a man of whom my opinion is indifference, and deal with gross remarks from the soldiers who are one day supposed to be my peers. When I'm alone, I just practice — fighting, Greek, anything at all — so I can keep my mind occupied. If I don't. . . I break down. I —

I — I thought I could d-do it. I thought I could m-make it through this with — without crying again. A l-lot of things I once thought have p-proven to be false. . .

Please stay with me. I — I know it's dumb that I'm asking that of something that d-doesn't exist, but I don't care. I just — don't want to be alone anymore.


Reyna, with a cowl obscuring her face and no sword at her hip, carefully snuck out of the castrum without being seen. She traversed the streets, posing as the lowly peasant girl no one would have a hard time taking her for. Her destination, a raised dais surrounded by a chattering crowd, soon came into view. There were soldiers all over the place, and she took care to avoid them as she attempted to get close enough to spectate the event.

From a distance, she could make out a handful of people atop the stage, but couldn't see clearly enough to identify any of them. She knew not by sight that one was an old man claiming the name Daedalus. Getting closer meant she could no longer see them, thanks to the people in front of her being taller than she.

Reyna had heard rumors about the accused in the form of differing stories. Most accepted that he was just a delirious elder who merely believed he was the real Daedalus. Due to the kept secret of why he was being executed without trial, others speculated that the old man actually was the inventor of Greek legend. None had any idea how he could have lived so long, but the theory still held popularity. Reyna didn't buy into any of the rumors. What she knew for a fact was that an elderly man named Daedalus was being publicly executed, so she was going to see for herself why. She'd been forbidden from attending the beheading but would deal with the consequences later.

The crowd went quiet, and a faint voice could be heard coming from the center of attention. The trainee continued skirting the edges of the audience, trying to get closer. She soon managed to get near enough to hear what was being said and listened intently, not stopping in her attempts.

". . . undermine Rome's authority!" one man's powerful voice said.

"I accept my fate," said an aged voice. "You could at least do me the honor of reading me my supposed crimes. . ." He spoke one last word, but too softly for Reyna to hear.

"Minos has been dead for centuries, you senile old man. And we haven't got all day to stand here repeating what everyone already knows. Legionnaire, get it over with."

The young demigod, confused and alarmed, kept trying to push close enough to see. She failed. The crowd waited with bated breath, then the sword fell. She heard it clearly slam down onto the dais, followed by the thud of an object dropping. She froze with her eyes widened, the spectators cheering.

It didn't take long for the attendees to disperse after that, but it was too late. She finally caught sight of the stage to see no one left on it — only a frail corpse, its severed head rolling along the boards. It was a sight she wouldn't soon forget.


Hello. It's been a few days since I last spoke to you, and I think this will be the final time. I don't think I need you anymore, but it felt wrong to just up and leave you behind without a goodbye. There's no reason I should feel that way, but I do. So I suppose I'll just explain why I'm doing this, for closure's sake.

I had to kill someone recently. I don't feel guilty about it, but it hadn't been my intention going into the situation, either. Long story short — a rapist put up a fight and gave me no opportunity to arrest him, which left me with only one choice. Being a legionnaire, I knew the day would eventually come that I'd have to take a life. I'd speculated how I'd feel when that day came. It turns out, I never came close to an accurate prediction.

When my sword left his body, and the blood started to pour out, I saw my father. I heard the sickening schlick of him pulling his own knife from his side. And it was too much. I relived the worst day of my life in its entirety within a singular moment. I realized that I don't deserve what little I have. I'm a patricide, who was only allowed to join the legion because of who my father was. I'm benefiting from having committed one of the Republic's most punishable crimes.

I'm trying to determine what I would have done from there had I been left to my own devices. Maybe I'd have drowned in my own guilt, committed another crime by becoming a deserter just so I could find a way to punish myself. Perhaps I'd have pushed through it and buried it all down like I'd always done before, moving forward while my mind constantly told me I should be going backward. I don't know, and I can't begin to express how glad I am that I couldn't find out.

I feel like you've been waiting for this next part — and I don't mean just during this one interaction. I trust Jason now. About time, right?

When I got back to the castrum, I was finally able to accept that I shouldn't have been pushing him away. We've been friends a while now, but there's always been this part of me that felt like I shouldn't get my hopes up. I shouldn't start to rely on him, because one day I might not be able to. And when that time comes, I'll have forgotten how to survive on my own.

I regret this way of thinking. He taught me a new way, something even Lupa couldn't have done. He said to me, "Stop letting the past define you. Every time you wake up, you're a slightly different person than you were the day before. If you stop worrying about the you from eight years ago, the you of tomorrow won't hurt as much. And neither will the people who care about you." And that's all it took. That one saying was all I needed to gain perspective on how I've been living my life. And things are better now.

Despite how I just made it sound, it wasn't instantaneous. That's why it took me until now to tell you this story. I had to spend a lot of time thinking over the past few days, and I still don't think I'm entirely "there" yet. But that's the point, isn't it? My actions today impact the person who wears my skin tomorrow, so I should do my damndest to make her life a little bit better. But I'm learning to be happy, little by little, which is a far cry better than my previous wallowing and self-pity.

I have a friend. His name is Jason Grace, and I can lean on him when I need to. I know that now, which means he can also lean on me. I don't need an imaginary mute to listen to me anymore. So, thank you. And goodbye.


A/N: If you haven't read the brand new Chapter 1 yet, go do that.

Pretty sure Reyna only needs one more chapter, so this likely won't be a three-parter.