The stillness of the afternoon air was unsettling, especially in contrast to the usual Pacific winds that swept the California coasts in late winter. It was silent save for the distinct rushing of the Tiber river some distance away and the clicking of beetles hidden in the tall grass. Hazel breathed in the crisp but not unpleasant air as she ran a gentle hand through a pure black mane. The skin was as sleek as scales but as soft as flower petals. It parted like a stream beneath her fingertips and shimmered as it reflected the uncovered sky.

Gentle now. Not a fragile horse, but old and wary, even after battle. Arion's previous captors had been cruel and hostile. He was not so willing to give himself over to a new lord so soon. She sensed the divine steed was comfortable with her, even if she couldn't talk to him like a certain son of Poseidon. But there were other ways to communicate. The comfort had come gradually, and trust would come slower still. But Hazel was patient. There now, step in front, hands low. See? Empty. Another step forward, wading through the waves of grass until she was almost nose-to-nose. The warm breath washed over her face. It was powerful but unlike other horses she had dealt with it didn't smell foul. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but if thunder could be a smell, that's what it was.

You were not meant to be kept in a cage. You were to scour the fields, untamed in the wild, until a need arose for you. Only when called to action would you once again be united with a rider. Would she be the one to master this horse? The first person since Adrastus almost 4000 years ago? The child of Pluto raised her hands and rested them on the side of the steed's face. He didn't flinch, his intelligent eyes searching her face for any hint of deception. She wished more than anything she could see what Arion was thinking.

Now for the tricky part. Yes they had ridden him before, and yes he had listened to them. But Hazel had a feeling that was more because Arion knew what hung in the balance rather than any sort of bond. He had acted as an ally, not as a friend. She knew that riding him now wouldn't be a mere joining of goals to go into battle. This would be a test of companionship, to ride for the sake of riding.

A pit in the grass, unseen. She slipped and hands flew to press against anything nearby…

Gone. Grasping air she caught herself before getting a facefull of grass, dirt, and gods knows what else. She hadn't seen him move, only felt the breeze. But Arion was standing almost 50ft away, now pacing anxiously. Hazel did her best to swallow any frustration, all her feelings twisted in a fist in the grass. It's okay, I've been here before. Get up, dust off, try again. The Senate had probably ended some time ago and lunch would be called soon. As she wasn't an officer she hadn't attended. Not that she really minded, the idea of sitting in on those long arduous gatherings was not really appealing to her anyway. Nevermind the ridiculousness of wearing one of those robes. We had better style 90 years ago. She was confident Frank would catch her up on everything later. As of now she wasn't planning on going to lunch at all.

Of course, she couldn't stay out here forever. At some point someone would come looking for her and she couldn't simply skip evening muster. Glancing up at the black stallion she wondered what she was missing. Arion hadn't let anyone ride him since the battle for New Rome. She had been out here almost every day trying to earn the horse's trust but had made little progress overall. Percy might know, he could simply ask the horse afterall. But based on the one-sided conversations she heard them have she wasn't sure Arion would be inclined to tell. This was something to figure out on her own.

Pushing to her feet, Hazel took in her surroundings. The fields north of the field of Mars were almost entirely flat, the only distinctive feature being Tiber that wrapped around the western and northern edges. Shadows danced in the grass in waves as the blades shifted to and fro. It went on and on and…

Where did the river go? No sound, no nothing. Just emptiness of air as suddenly there was nothing but the field. No, step away from the shadow, not under, not now. Her spirit teetered on the edge of reality. She could still feel the grass at her fingertips, aware of her presence alone in a still field. But ever so closer she was drawn back into the dream, the lie. This isn't me anymore, I got out, he got me out. Oh, the feeling of insignificance. The utter nothingness of the endless fields, constantly adrift until you lose your sense of self.

Her memories of that place always seemed to fail her outside of these moments. Moments when her soul knew where it belonged, where it had been destined to go. Thanatos had spared her, an unusual act of mercy in a delicate period. But Asphodel felt even emptier now, hollower. Stop, don't let it take you. The loneliness wasn't the worst part. It was when your person was eroded too much to even feel lonely. Your very will and life being ebbed away in a swirl of boredom and isolation, and your ability to care. That was the truth wasn't it? Those that had been in the fields of asphodel had faded too much to care.

Not all of them. A Roman's identity rooted deeper it seemed. Always making them just aware enough about where they were and who put them there. That was what caused them to rise again at the call of Gaea. To be given a second chance. Hazel tried to shut away the memory of a hundred souls crushed under water and ice. That was the absence. For after their crimes against Olympus, the spirits of those romans would face a far less mercyful fate than the drifts of Asphodel. Percy had to, there was no other choice. Would she have been among those numbered to take vengeance? She hadn't been a part of that expedition, to be sure. But roman blood still flowed there in her veins. The injustice of her sentence may have driven her mad, and she might have taken a chance to decide her own fate of eternity. If that was true, then Nico had saved her from for more than he realized.

The sky, she couldn't see the sky anymore. Panic seized her chest like a vice squeezing the air from her. The demigod stumbled forward. What had she been doing? It was getting darker and her legs became heavier. The world turned hazy white and gray as she blended into the endless endless fields.

"No! Help!" she tried to cry out, but it came out as a whisper, immediately carried away in the thin air. Not knowing why, Hazel continued forward, wandering the same way she had for all those years. No destination. No hope. But it wasn't the same. This time she could still feel it. The heaviness increased as she trudged forward into nothingness. The cold shocked her legs that quickly rushed up to her neck. Cold? It was never cold. Suddenly it became impossible to breathe. She opened her mouth but the pressure in her chest expanded until it felt like her lungs might pop. What is happening? The faded edges of her vision got darker.

Can't breathe, can't see. Help. But no help would come. Her heart began to settle, puttering slowly and she lost touch with all her senses. This was it, to simply fade. She was being called back, back to where she belonged. She lost all sensation except for one. A small tug on the back of her hoodie. She was wearing a hoodie?

Crash. Air! Light! Mind overwhelmed Hazel thrashed as she was dragged from the Tiber. Spinning she vomited water from her lungs in waves. Moments later she was dropped to the ground, the sound of a person coughing behind her. She tried to turn to see who it was but couldn't make out their face. When did it get so dark? Body trembling she looked up to see the glow of a sun ducked well below the horizon.

"Next time you go swimming," the figure said, "try the Thermae, at least it has nymphs to retrieve a body." Hazel stopped shaking long enough to get a good look at her rescuer.

"Dakota?" She still couldn't think quite clearly, her head hurt, but she was present enough to feel the rush of embarrassment. "Th-Thank you," she muttered out. He cocked his head to the side.

"We have been looking for you for hours, if Frank hadn't suggested you might be trying to tame that…horse…you would be miles downstream." He adjusted his normally bored expression into a scrutinizing slight. "What happened?" No way was Hazel going to confide her half-hallucination, half ghost-possession day dreams to the only demigod in camp Jupiter that people thought was crazier than her.

"I'm…I am not a great swimmer" True enough, mother had never really taken her to the beach in Louisiana. And they didn't exactly have a lakefront in the fields of Asphodel. Dakota arched an eyebrow.

"It helps if you move your arms. I watched you, you just walked into the river, went under and never popped up." He shrugged. "I thought you were just taking a dip, but when you didn't show, well…." Hazel became aware all of a sudden how cold she was. The sky was quickly darkening and her soaking frame was chilled to the bone. Dakota sighed and helped her up, wrapping an arm around her to offer some warmth. It wasn't much, seeing as he was also soaking wet. Though he wasn't shivering as much as her. "Let's get you back and into warm clothes. I gotta see Reyna tonight about one of my guys who bought the farm in the battle. Apparently no living relatives. That's not uncommon of course, but it will mean I need to stand in as next of kin for honors."

As they walked back Hazel looked around the empty field. Arion was nowhere to be seen. Then again if she truly had been hallucinating for hours, she couldn't really expect anything different. She would simply have to come back tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that. She would come as long as it took to earn his trust .

"Thank you again, I would have died if not for you." She got out, trying to sound a little more grateful. Another shrug.

"Yeah, you would have."

. … . … . … . … . …

Click Click Click. Whrrrrrrr. Raziptula typed out a series of keys on one of the larger filers in the station. It's many shelves began shifting and rotating, hundreds of metal boxes stacked all the way to the ceiling, rearranging themselves quickly. She always enjoyed the hum and buzzing of machinery. Oftentimes she found herself bobbing her head to the steady clicks and hisses that perpetuated the shop. Which was funny because most people couldn't seem to stand it in here. That was their own fault, in Razz's opinion. They came in wearing way too much clothing. Of course the humidity would get to them.

At last the desired box rolled down to her, the machine cooling down with a satisfying hiss. With a twist of knobs on each side, the drawer popped open. There were a few dozen labeled steel tabs attached to files that were on a wheel. Turning the right knob counterclockwise the wheel spun. There was a faint red light from above that caused the tab facing her to flash fire bright for a fraction of a second before moving onto the next. Razz's lightning fast eyes picked up every label effortlessly. Caprilla, Resonance, Martyris… Ah, there it was. She stopped the spin on the file labeled Funus. Pushing in on the knob, the metallic file popped up out of the wheel. She delicately removed it from its place, and moved to one of the Sherlock booths nearby leaving the box open. The booth looked like an ordinary wooden study desk with its roll up doors and smaller cabinets. It was actually fully equipped with all the tools she needed when going through most records or creating new ones. It was named after some detective, who happened to be a demigod. A son of Bacchus if you could believe it, back when the god went through a pipe and smoke phase.

It had been some time since she had personally pulled out protocol for military honors of the deceased. Ever since she became chief, there had been no major confrontations. All reported casualties had been in isolated incidents on either remote stations or minor quests. And in each of those cases there had been relatives and civil authorities to take charge of handling these sorts of things. There hadn't been many deaths in the battle for New Rome, but there had been enough. At least nine of the campers had no relatives to speak of so the job of retrieving proper honors and statements for send off fell on her. She of course had no clue how to do any of this, so she had intended tonight to be devoted to studying that very thing.

She pulled out several large parchments in the file. Water proof, of course. And, since the burning of the great library, fireproof. Each one was filled top to bottom with text written far too small to read with the naked eye. Reaching up she unlocked one of the vertical cabinets at the head of the station. A series of large glass disks attached to metallic arms folded out. She pulled the contraption horizontally so it hovered over the desk and flicked each magnifier into place until she could see the text blown up to size on the top most screen. There was so much information here, but these texts followed a specific grid/alphabetical format using a universal legend all Roman printers had to memorize. It was a simple matter of finding the correct articles. It got more complex than that though. Despite the sheer amount of text visible, there was actually so much more.

Opening yet another one of the overhead compartments the demigod pulled down a ring that dangled from some tightly knit chains. On the ring was a series of carefully cut crystals, each slightly tinted in a different color. Many of these texts actually contained layers of color coded information that could only be read under a certain light. Supposedly there were specially made lanterns that had been used to discern this at first. But flashlights made it so much easier. She adjusted the fixed reading light clipped to the side of the desk so that it showed through the magenta tinted crystal onto the document. All the plain text disappeared and was replaced by a whole new document, just as thorough as the first. Magenta symbolized military law as opposed to civil. There had been thousands of different documents at one point in Rome's history surrounding the fine details of deceased honors. It must have been nearly impossible to keep it all straight. This system had been developed by some brilliant Angolan scientist and made much more practical sense.

It took some hunting but Razz found what she was looking for. Not even looking away from the text, she simultaneously studied and wrote down all the important details and any secondary sources she needed to look into. This was crucially important to get right. Honors were not simply a gesture of courtesy to those that fell in battle. According to historical text, Roman ghosts that died in battle and were not sent off honorably could have terrible consequences. The details on what that meant exactly were a little fuzzy in her diligent research, but what she gathered, it wasn't good. She needed to get this right the first time.

The demigod lost track of time, as she often did, going through a seemingly endless amount of information. A lot of what was recorded here wasn't even regulation. There were hundreds of personal journal entries and accounts that gave recommendations surrounding a particular cause of death or the history of a family. It was fascinating beyond measure and Razz got lost in the well of information. One particular passage caught her eye. A man named Judaias had lost a brother in the battle for Thermopile, which wasn't even a Roman battle. He gave an account of his brother's spirit, betrayed on the field of battle, feeding some kind of other monster into the world. Almost like an exchange. She didn't recognize the name, an eidolon, but they seemed to be a kind of possessive spirit. Razz shuddered. Sure she had been trained for combat in the legion, she was even told she had a real talent for the gladius. But secretly the demigod hated the idea of front line combat. She would do it, if not for Rome then for her brothers and sisters in the legion. But unlike others she found no glory in the bloodshed. Just reading about the endless variety of horrendous monsters still unsettled her.

Checking her watch Razz realized she had been studying for hours. Dinner was almost over already. She let out a sigh. Hapluck steak is usually better cold anyway. As quickly as she could she put away all the instruments on the booth and returned the documents to the metal file. Her steps echoed through the thrum and his of steam engines and Razz felt a pang of loneliness. The staff for the station wasn't huge of course, just 5 demigods that worked on off shifts. But as chief she often spent long days alone on solo ques. Razz had always been comfortable by herself, but that didn't mean she didn't want friends. Her personality seemed to not quite click with everyone else.

Immediately her thoughts drifted to Reyna. Razz wasn't blind, she knew the praetor had been smitten with Jason Grace from the start. She was one of the strongest people Razz knew, but nobody wanted to walk through life alone. Few people knew just how Reyna and her sister had fallen out after the incident on Circe island. Reyna had never truly liked that place, she disliked how Circe treated others based solely on their gender. And beyond that, despite appearing to be held in esteem, Reyna and Hylla had been no more than prisoners themselves. Circe hadn't really cared about anyone other than herself, and had manipulated dozens of girls to be her servants. When their home was destroyed and the enchantments broken it had thrown everyone into confusion. Reyna had been upset, sure, but Razz knew that part of her had been relieved. Hylla remains blind to the fact she had been a slave even now.

Their disagreement had driven them apart, even with the alliance and peace, they would never truly come to terms with what had happened. Reyna had no one to go to with the weight that had been placed on her. Razz had been happy when Jason Grace had stepped into the role. She thought he would make a good leader but more than that she believed he would make a good partner. When he disappeared it was another blow in Reyna's tragic story. The praetor always strived not to show it. But those who knew her best could see the broken glass and hidden longing.

Now there was Percy Jackson. That was someone Razz was not so sure about. Oh, he was a great guy to be sure. He was brave, humble, funny, and talented. Razz distinctly remembered him vaulting over her head on the field of Mars during his first war game and knocking her out. It wasn't what she knew about him that worried Razz, it was what they didn't. The man had literally lost his memories. A son of Neptune, stumbling into camp with a goddess in his arms and spouting Greek. If that didn't scream end of the world, nothing did. There was no doubt he had saved Camp Jupiter, and Razz would be forever grateful for that. But he was still mostly a stranger, even to himself. And they had made him praetor? In a week? Were they nuts?

And that wasn't the only thing that concerned her. Reyna had been making eyes at him ever since he returned from his quest. Children of Neptune were known for their loyalty and good looks, it was not a crazy choice for a partner by itself. No doubt half the girls in camp daydreamed about him already. But Razz had a feeling it would be his loyalty that would bring the most pain. Percy had a life before this, even if he didn't remember it. Another camp, another family. Razz was convinced that sooner or later those old memories would return, and with them old loyalties. When that happened, he would leave. And Reyna would be alone once again.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

Reyna didn't know what a hapluck was and truth be told, she wasn't sure she wanted to know. After a grueling afternoon of ceremony as well as writing recommendations for the different colleges in the legion to give to the new graduates, she had dragged her feet to dinner to sit down alone at the officers table. Where are my centurions? Maybe there was a party going on that no one had invited her to. A big officers party with games, bombs, and good food. But as she sat and ate, one by one, the different members trudged through the doors. They all looked as exhausted as she felt. They had of course all had casualties in their individual cohorts. The officers in charge had to collaborate every record that was made of a legionnaire as well as write out and double check every possible relative or next of kin.

The invisible servants swept out and plated all the tables with the mystery meat, along with vegetables and cookies. The officers at her table weren't feeling particularly chatty. There were a few people still missing. Percy and Octavian of course were still in New Rome, it was not unlikely they would spend a few days there before coming back with anything. Dakota was gone, which was surprising considering she couldn't recall a time he ever missed a meal. Frank had come in only minutes ago, looking both angry and relieved. After getting his food he plopped down unhappily.

"Where were you?" Gwen said drowsily, poking at the giant piece of broccoli on her plate.

"Looking for Hazel," Frank replied quietly, "she's been spending a lot of time training with that horse recently. Dakota went to check the plains north of the field of Mars, it's where she sometimes goes." Reyna looked at the sun that was already setting below the horizon on shorter winter days. She always thought evening musters were more pleasant in the dark.

"Aren't you worried?" One of the fourth cohort officers, Samuel, said. Frank shrugged.

"Like I said, she has been doing this kind of thing a lot. I would go look in the field myself but Arion, well, he isn't very fond of me. If she still isn't here for muster I figure we can get a team together to go searching." He started eating his food quickly, evidently not interested in any more questions. Only then did Reyna notice Razz's absence. She was a centurion of the second cohort and would normally sit at the very end of the officers table. The girl wasn't often on-time for anything, but she still wasn't one to just skip meals.

The rest of the meal went by without much talk. The officers ate quickly and only stayed a few minutes longer to take a breather and lean on one another in comfortable silence. The tables were oriented low to the ground, and were surrounded by small couches or sometimes futons that allowed them to recline into the person on their right. Reyna had grown used to the other praetor place to her left being empty, although Percy had on occasion sat with the officers.

When the campers began to disperse, Reyna spotted Razz plod into the back. Reyna turned to signal Rufus as best she could to hold one more meal. While everyone else left to wash up before evening muster, Razz plopped down on Reyna's left. Rufus brought over a dish before bidding them well and trotting off.

"How far are you along on the honors?" Reyna questioned. Razz shook her head.

"I haven't even started, I spent all day in the records just learning how to do this and any special circumstances surrounding it." She met Reyna's eyes with that seemingly limitless bound of energy. "I think I have it figured out, or at least some of it. I can't really afford to get this wrong. Some of the stories I have looked through.." she shuddered.

"Would you like me to assign you some help? I will be honest and say I didn't know how much work it would be to do a send off without family. " Razz shook her head.

"No, no. I couldn't trust anyone else to do it right. Ghosts are awfully picky when it comes to this sort of thing. I just need some time. Then I need to look into that prophecy Percy gave me." Reyna shook her head.

"Don't worry about the prophecy for now, focus on what needs to be done. I will see if I can get someone else to help with anything else you need. I don't want you burning out." Reyna felt sort of bad for the girl. She seemed to love what she did, but so often it almost looked like it was going to run her into the ground. But Razz's eyes lit up and that familiar grin split her face.

"I will be okay, but thanks Rey!" She took a drink of water and nodded to herself. "All I need is some rice cakes to bring with me into the shop. Maybe I should go find Rufus to see what he can do to stop them from getting so soggy all the time. Of course, first I need to prep for muster, and get my uniform looking sharp."

"Razz," said Reyna dryly, "you have never passed a uniform inspection in your life."

"Made me really good at push-ups, didn't it?" Razz said with a wink. Reyna glanced down to see Razz's meal almost gone. She hadn't even noticed her take a bite. They both stood up and collected any dishes the invisible servants had left. Reyna had to go check on her dogs, she had neglected them all day and when Aurum got lonely he started eating the furniture.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Funus- (Latin)- means funeral or sometimes burial. Also used in ceremonies regarding deaths with military action.

Okay, I have a lot to unpack here so bear with me. First off, I really like the idea of Hazel making a bond with Arion but I really think it happened too fast. Hercules gifted the horse to Adastratus when he ruled Argos to help in the war against Thebes. It isn't clear how that worked out in mythology, but the horse had previously only been under the command of the most powerful heroes and in the most desperate time. Argos is a real city that actually still exists. The time period we are talking about here in history is 4000 thousand years, making it one of the oldest cities still inhabited in the world.

Adastratus really did exist as a historical figure although there is not a lot known about him. A lot of legend is derived from Homer's Illiad. He actually married his niece, and had three daughters. Argia married the Thebean king, that's right, the one he went to war with. And Dypiele, his second daughter, married an exile named Tydies. These two went on to have a kid named Diomedes. That's right, the same guy who waged war on Troy. Diomedes ends up supposedly marrying another one of Adastratus's daughters though it's unclear whether this would be his half-sister or not because the mother is not stated.

As we go into Mythology we discover how he received Arion during a period when he was exiled from Argos and made king of Scyion. Supposedly his father Tycus was king previously and died after Adastratus was forced away by his rival. At some point he returns to Argos and claims the throne again before going to war With Thebes, who is married to one of his daughters. It is at this point that Arion saves his life.

Okay history lesson over, I find this all super interesting as it does make some connections with a Greek rivalry. Records show that no text can agree on Adastratus's biological mother. Which would make an awful lot of sense if he were a son of a certain goddess who also blessed Helena with immeasurable beauty (Ahem, Aphrodite, Ahem). This would also make marrying his half-sister a little less weird, although not by much.

In the books, Hazel seems to tame Arion almost instantly despite not having much of that history or even a Greek background. All the heroes that had previously owned Arion had been Greek. Arion was the offspring of Poseidon and Demetry in horse form. (I don't want to think about it, no). So then why does it make an immediate connection with Hazel who is #1 Descendant of the formal mortal enemy of early Greeks and #2 A Roman demigod. IT MAKES NO SENSE. If Hazel want's lightning horse to love her, she is going to have to work for it.

Another point, I absolutely love Percy as a Roman praetor. I think it is such a brilliant direction to take that character but how Rick did it made zero sense to me. He is literally the mortal enemy of the camp, has no memories, and is still made their praetor in a week? And nobody asks any questions or feels even a little weird about it. I guess if you are just going to retcon the whole thing in the next book it doesn't matter but really? I want to see Percy as a praetor but in a way where he truly earns the hearts of the Romans over time. Not everyone is going to be super stoked about a probatio launching straight into the most powerful position at camp: so make him earn it!(Yes I know he saved them, but there still should be some issues here).

Lastly, I find the story of Reyna and Hylla interesting in a way. Their time on Circe island may not have been the paradise that it sounded like. Yes Circe was incredibly sexist but I genuinely believe it was more than just that. She was an enchantress who had a bunch of underage girls working at her salon for free. If that doesn't scream slave master I don't know what does. It makes sense that some of these girls may be vulnerable to lies after they were hurt by the men in their lives and a powerful sorceress would be fully able to take advantage of that. Hylla still believes that lie while Reyna had been free of it and you can see their differing viewpoints. They still care about each other as sisters but they simply cannot live together and not fight.

As like last time, please leave reviews. They are super helpful and go a long way to improve my writing. I also want to get a feel on how much my work is being received and how/if I should go forward with it.