make love, not war

by kneeshee

Drew never wanted to be a hero. That's what got Silena killed and yet-here she was one of the seven of the prophecy. Rue never fit in anywhere. She was stuck between life and death and yet-the seven of prophecy made her belong. Octavian didn't need a family. His first one got killed and yet-that's what the seven of the prophecy became.

19. OCTAVIAN IV

So, that was a bust.

Hercules, the most famous demigod of all time, was an asshole.

Hmp. You know what they say. Never meet your heroes.

Of course, the situation was no better because despite what everyone else thought, Jason was very protective of his Stepmother and every insult that Hercules threw her way, he took offense. It kind of reminded him of Livia who was protective of their Family and her own Stepmother. It probably didn't help that the goddesses treated the two of them as their own children, but really... what did they expect? Hercules' entire life had been ruined by the Queen. His marriage, his children, and his mind. Of course, he wasn't going to be fond of her.

They would have done better if Jason didn't have all his memories back and was still in that haze of confusion that he felt for the goddess. Oh, well. It was too late now. And they only had to sacrifice Paolo to face his stepfather for that (and the angry river god who had wanted to take Drew as his wife. The girl was infuriated.)

After leaving the Pillars of Hercules—unscathed except for a few coconuts lodged in the hull's bronze plating—the ship traveled by air for a few hundred miles. And Octavian could easily see why it was considered so dangerous. Several times an hour, something attacked the ship. A flock of flesh-eating Stymphalian birds swooped out of the night sky, and Festus torched them. Storm spirits swirled around the mast, and Jason blasted them with lightning and his Lichtenburg figures started glow on his body.

(A part of Octavian wanted to make the joke that they had matching glowing scars, but Rue did too and he figured it was kind of morbid since his were somewhat killing him.)

While Coach Hedge was having dinner on the foredeck, a wild pegasus appeared from nowhere, stampeded over the coach's enchiladas, and flew off again, leaving cheesy hoof prints all across the deck.

"What was that for?" the coach demanded. Livia had found it hilarious, laughing to the point that she fell through the deck while holding her stomach. It was nice to see that one of them was having fun while the rest of them were fighting for their lives. She disappeared on the occasion. Diving down to rest against Lina, who was not enjoying the various storms and booms that came from the attacks and hurting her extremely sensitive ears. (Jason was facing the same problem, but Octavian lent him his hearing aids. Something Pranjal glared at him for since Octavian's hearing wasn't the best anymore, but it was better than nothing. And if Pranjal truly hated the idea, he wouldn't have had Blaise help him to make sure that they fit and operated correctly for Jason.)

And when Livia wasn't with Lina or making fun of people, he could see flashes of her as they sailed through the Mare Nostrum seated atop a scarlet-colored beast that followed alongside them, but somehow all out of the range of the scanners and attacks.

At one point, a giantess had appeared before them, long tresses of seaweed and kelp in the replacement for hair. She claimed that she was Neringa, the bane of Salicia and if her husband could not kill them, then she would. An inky boil had overtaken the surf, howls of pain and furious beating waves slammed against the ARGO II. They didn't even half to lift a finger. They could only watch as the giantess was lifted into the air and their appendages fell off one by one. Neringa screamed, coughing up poison and sea water and ichor, but there was no relief until finally, the goddess hung in the air like Yehoshua on the cross.

Carved into her skin - still bleeding sluggishly - were three little words: D̵͈̪̦͇̥̻̳͍͊̆̎̋̃o̷̢̧̙̼͖͎̮̮̖͎͙̓̈́̀̿̓́̎̒́̾̀̃̀ṉ̷̛̈́͛̐̏͐̃̈̓'̷̲͎̰̪̉̾̽̓̽͊͝t̵̲̔̆̍̈́̌͂̽̓̾͘̚͝͝͝ ̷̭̿̾̎̐̾͊̈́͊̎ͅͅT̴̡͈͕̩̼̋̆̀̑̃̓͊̔́͘͜ở̶̝̼̦̃̓̆͒̇̽͑́̚͘͜͝͠u̴͉̫̮͈͍͙͖̯̖͙̾͛̔̇́͑͒͂̈͋̃͘͠c̵̮̮̊̿̈́͐͂h̸͓̝̜̤̻̯̒̊̎̊̇̄̾̕͘͘͜ͅ ̵͚͙̝̜͆̑̌͘͜M̵͓͔͇̉̉̈́̈́̉̿̑̚ą̴̫͇̲̯͕̰̳̥͉̯͊̀̃m̸̮͚̳͎̝͕̟̦̾a̶͎̫̳̹̺̯͕͛̒͂̽͋. Neringa was blubbering and hanging on desperately for life before a beautiful male specimen appeared out of the water. Octavian couldn't see his sister, but he could hear as she delightedly called out for Turmś. The Prince of the Sea gave them a nod as he produced a sword and sliced Neringa's head from her head.

Finally, around midnight, after the ninth or tenth aerial attack, he saw Jason turned to Perseus. "How about you get some sleep? I'll keep blasting stuff out of the sky as long as I can. Then we can go by sea for a while, and you can take point." The boy agreed and then Jason turned to look at him. He stepped closer into his space, brushing a hand over his cheek. "You should rest, too, Vi. You have a big day ahead of you when we reach Rome."

His words were true, but... Octavian was walking to his death once they reached Roma. This would be his last time seeing Jason. He didn't want to miss another day with him. Jason must have thought the same because his features softened almost impossibly more. "Okay. Okay," he murmured. "You can stay here with me for a little while longer, but as soon as I switch with Percy again, you're taking a nap even if I have to trap you in the bed."

Octavian felt himself flush. The last time he and Jason had been in the same bed together was the day before he went missing. The younger had dragged from his Father's temple where he had been answering everyone's request like some carnival fortune teller and dragged him to his room, stripped him of his clothes and forced him to sleep. Octavian spent the entire time with an erection and trying to fight the urge to press himself against Jason.

From the way the other boy was smirking at him, he surely remembered the same.

Octavian turned away, casting his gaze back at the sea where Livia had taken to swimming through. Jason followed his gaze, casually batting his hand through the air as some amalgamation of penguin and chainsaw chicken thing attempted to dive bomb them.

"Will she be alright," the boy asked.

Octavian inclined his head. "She's stronger than any six-year-old has any right to be." He turned to look at the younger. "You know, she reminds me of you."

Jason raised a brow.

"She used to walk around as if the fate of the world was on her shoulders," Octavian admitted, not flinching when Festus fried something that sprung from the sea. She had known that as long as she lived then the curse wouldn't go into effect. "She was brought up as a princess and she thought that she could solve everyone's issues by being stronger and faster and better. She was very mature for her age and I usually hate saying that because it's a trauma response, but it's true for her. She was insightful with an eye for detail that not many would have, but she was still child and still prone to emotional outbursts you know. Sometimes she thought things could be fix by simply overpowering the issue and other times she was like a puppet master. She was complicated and a mix of layers but at the end of it all..." He looked at Jason who turned to look at him. "She just wanted to be loved and tell her that not everything is her fault, and that no child would ever be abandoned like she was by her birth mother."

Jason inhaled sharply, tears gathering in his eyes. He curled into himself and just like that, the simmering rage that Octavian felt for Ms. Grace rushed through him placing her on the same level that he placed Ms. Jackson. What was with these people and not properly taking care of their children? He shifted and dismissed that thought because he knew how the gods could be but still... BABIES! CHILDREN! They fucking deserved better. And gods, he wished he could take away all of their pain. When the tears began stream down his face, mixing in with the light rain that was coming, Octavian decided that their shift was over.

He took ahold of his arm, turning them towards the lower decks. Livia peeked out one of the rooms. "Okto?"

"Via, do you know where Perseus' room is?"

The child nodded, phasing completely out of the door to skip down the hallway. She led them four doors down and pointed at it. "Here."

"Thank you, Liv." He told her and she gave him a bright smile before fading away from view.

Once he gets Perseus up and at it, he drags Jason back over to his own room. The boy says nothing as Octavian strips him of his clothes and changes him into his pajamas. He catches Octavian's hand when he traces over the new lichtenburg figures that decorated his chest and arms, bringing his hand up to brush his lips against it. The look in his eyes was so earnest that Octavian had to turn away, stealing some clothes for himself to change into.

In no time, he was being pulled onto the bed, and though this was supposed to be comforting for Jason, Octavian ended up as the little spoon. Hmph. He should be glad that this was one of his favorite positions. He had always been fond of laying his head over his partner — consensual ones that is— hearing their beating hearts as proof that they were still alive... that he was still alive, and the world hadn't killed him yet. Some days he wondered if it was worth, keeping him alive while taking so much away and others... well, he learned to ignore those days.

For a while, the two just held each other. Jason had his arms wrapped tightly around his waist and Octavian could pretend that this was something else. He could pretend that this was an embrace of lovers, holding onto each other as they settled in for the night. He, unfortunately, couldn't sink into that thought because well...

"I slept with Drew," Octavian admitted. The arms around his waist tightened before relaxing.

"I know. She told me," Jason replied. "I can't be mad when I've done the same and Drew's... she's awesome. Just like the rest of us." Broken. Glued together with jagged edges. "She didn't have a happy childhood. She doesn't like talking about it, but she's still going. Says she's becoming someone that her younger self would look up to." He was tracing his own lichtenburg figures across Octavian's stomach. "She also told me that you hated her because of me."

Octavian tensed in his arms.

"Octavian..." Jason started. "I love you. I won't deny that I like Drew and Leo also, but I've been in love with you for years. It's... it's just so confusing with you. It's easier with her. I love you, Tav. But everything is so damn hard. it shouldn't be so hard and now I know about the curse... you wouldn't have said anything."

"I was trying to protect you," he murmured.

"It would've hurt more if you died without saying anything and leaving nothing but what ifs. What if I said something sooner? What if I did something different? What if I was there to save him? What if he didn't know that I've been in love with him since he knocked me out with a single punch during our first war games while we were on the same team."

"You snuck up on me!" Octavian protested.

"All that power in that little body," Jason teased. "It's no wonder that people don't believe you're a real threat."

That was something that Octavian used to his advantage. It made him unassuming. It made people lower their guards and loosen their tongues. Who would see the boy that cowered behind his Praetorian Guard, quindecimviri sacris faciundis, and very powerful friends like Jason himself as threat? It was joke, but Octavian was the one to have the last laugh.

"I'm sorry," Octavian said after a moment. "I love you too. I just... Jason, it won't work. Even if I somehow live, I've spent my entire life and the last two years since Gus' death, under the assumption that I was going to die. And the curse accounts for people that are married into the family even if we do take our spouses' name. I don't want to be the reason you die. Please. Sutor, ne ultra crepidam. Please."

"You're so much like Drew it's weird," Jason stated. "Both of you have this complicated outlook on love though in Drew's case, she's only had five examples of positive relationships."

"The world didn't love us so..."

"Then let me love you," Jason pleaded. "Stop pushing me away."

"You will end up hurt," he deflected.

"Then let me," Jason stated fiercely. "It's my choice. Let me deal with the pain. Was it not you who said—" and in a bad imitation of Octavian's voice, "Nescit cedere."

"And you still don't know how to give up," Octavian grumbled, knowing it was losing battle. "Fine. If we survive this, then we can give this a try."

"That's all I ask," Jason replied, and Octavian could hear the smile in his voice. "Go to sleep, Lightning McQueen."

Octavian's nightmares, of course, were anything but restful.

---

He found himself at a party in ancient Rome. Apparently, Emperor Caligula had just opened his newest palace at the base of the Palatine Hill, making a daring architectural statement by knocking out the back wall of the Temple of Castor and Pollux and using it as his front entrance if the whispers he was overhearing were correct. Since Caligula considered himself a god, he saw no problem with this, but the Roman elites were horrified. This was sacrilege akin to setting up a big-screen TV on a church altar and having a Super Bowl party with communion wine. That didn't stop the crowd from attending the festivities even if Octavian was burning with fury. How dare he disrespect them so?

Throngs of costumed revelers moved through vast torchlit halls. In every corner, musicians played songs from across the empire: Gaul, Hispania, Greece, Egypt. Octavian found himself dressed as a gladiator, mingling with senators who were disguised as slave girls, slave girls who were disguised as senators, a few unimaginative toga ghosts, and a couple of enterprising patricians who had crafted the world's first two-man donkey costume.

Octavian felt powerful. He could feel brewing under his skin as if it were encompassing the entire world. He wandered the party incognito, enjoying being among all the pretty people, when he finally appeared: the young emperor himself, in a golden chariot pulled by a white stallion, Incitatus. The animal that he was going to make consul.

Flanked by praetorian guards—the only people not in costume—Gaius Julius Caesar Germanicus was buck naked, painted in gold from head to foot, with a spiky crown of sun rays across his brow. Octavian was sure that if he were in his own body then his eyes would be gleaming as bright as the sun with how furious he was. This idiot was pretending to be his Forefather, pretending to be Phoebus Apollō as if he was anywhere near worthy. It was a good thing that Octavian wasn't born in AD 37 through AD 4. He killed people for less and he wouldn't have failed in the first attempts to get rid of the idiot... permanently. His Mother had taught him and Livia the perfect mixture to create a poison that still torments a person long after they had already died. (Mercurius had come to visit the family with Neptūnus on one of the days Livia was to train at sea with an order to stop using it because it made processing irritable in the Underworld when the souls wouldn't stop twitching.)

"I am the New Sun!" he announced, beaming at the crowd as if his smile were responsible for all the warmth in the world. "I am Helios. I am Apollō. I am Caesar. You may now bask in my light!"

Nervous applause from the crowd. Should they grovel? Should they laugh? Octavian inwardly growled. Pick a sun god, you fucking idiot.

The emperor climbed down from his chariot. His horse was led to the hors d'oeuvres table while Caligula and his guards made their way through the crowd.

Caligula stopped and shook hands with a senator dressed as a slave. "You look lovely, Cassius Agrippa! Will you be my slave, then?"

The senator bowed. "I am your loyal servant, Caesar."

"Excellent!" Caligula turned to his guards. "You heard the man. He is now my slave. Take him to my slave master. Confiscate all his property and money. Let his family go free, though. I'm feeling generous."

The senator spluttered, but he could not form the words to protest. Two guards hustled him away as Caligula called after him, "Thank you for your loyalty!"

The crowd shifted like a herd of cattle in a thunderstorm. Those who had been surging forward, anxious to catch the emperor's eye and perhaps win his favor, now tried their best to melt into the pack.

"It's a bad night," some whispered in warning to their colleagues. "He's having a bad night."

"Marcus Philo!" cried the emperor, cornering a poor young man who had been attempting to hide behind the two-man donkey. "Come out here, you scoundrel!"

"Pr-Princeps," the man stuttered.

"I loved the satire you wrote about me," Caligula said. "My guards found a copy of it in the Forum and brought it to my attention."

"S-sire," said Philo. "It was only a weak jest. I didn't mean—"

"Nonsense!" Caligula smiled at the crowd. "Isn't Philo great, everybody? Didn't you like his work? The way he described me as a rabid dog?"

The crowd was on the verge of full panic. The air was so full of electricity, Octavian wondered if Lord Iovis was there in disguise.

"I promised that poets would be free to express themselves!" Caligula announced. "No more paranoia like in old Tiberius's reign. I admire your silver tongue, Philo. I think everyone should have a chance to admire it. I will reward you!"

Philo gulped. "Thank you, lord."

"Guards," said Caligula, "take him away. Pull his tongue out, dip it in molten silver, and display it in the Forum where everyone can admire it. Really, Philo—wonderful work!" Two praetorians hauled away the screaming poet. Octavian fought to keep the scowl off his face. Of course, of course! His own creative thinking for punishments had to be similar to the mentally ill emperor with delusions of grandeur and suffered from megalomania.

"And you there!" Caligula called.

Only then did Octavian realize the crowd had ebbed around him, leaving him exposed. Suddenly, Caligula was in his face. His eyes—while insanely beautiful; emphasis on insane— narrowed as he studied his costume. "I don't recognize you," he said.

Somehow, he managed a bow. "I am a mere actor, Caesar."

"Oh, indeed!" Caligula brightened. "And you play the gladiator. Would you fight to the death in my honor?"

Octavian drew his gladiator's sword, which was nothing but a costume blade of soft tin. It was no better than a sword made of cotton. "Point me to my opponent, Caesar!" He scanned the audience and bellowed, "I will destroy anyone who threatens my lord!"

To demonstrate, he lunged and poked the nearest praetorian guard in the chest. The sword bent against his breastplate. He held aloft my ridiculous weapon, which now resembled the letter Z.

A dangerous silence followed. All eyes fixed on Caesar.

Finally, Caligula laughed. "Well done!" He patted Octavian's shoulder, then snapped his fingers. One of his servants shuffled forward and handed him a heavy pouch of gold coins. Caligula whispered in his ear, "I feel safer already."

The emperor moved on, leaving onlookers laughing with relief, some casting envious glances at him as if to ask What is your secret?

The dream changed and Octavian was in a dark cavern. He could only see a few feet in front of him, but the space must have been vast. Water dripped from somewhere nearby, and the sound echoed off distant walls. The way the air moved made Octavian suspect the cave's ceiling was far, far above. Before him stood the twin giants; the ones Perseus called Ephialtes and Otis. He felt sick just looking at them. One with green locks braided with silver and gold coins and the other with a purple ponytail braided with...were those firecrackers? Otherwise they were dressed identically, and their outfits definitely belonged in a nightmare. They wore matching white slacks and gold buccaneer shirts with V-necks that showed way too much chest hair. A dozen sheathed daggers lined their rhinestone belts.

Their shoes were open-toed sandals, proving that—yes, indeed—they had snakes for feet. The straps wrapped around the serpents' necks. Their heads curled up where the toes should be. The snakes flicked their tongues excitedly and turned their gold eyes in every direction, like dogs looking out the window of a car. Maybe it had been a long time since they'd had shoes with a view.

The small cluster of Venus' children that ran the Love in the Air galleria would have something to say about that.

"There is little left holding this place together," a voice cautioned in the darkness. The voice made Octavian's stomach drop about six inches. It sounded vaguely female, but not at all human. Each word was a garbled hiss in multiple tones, as if a swarm of African killer bees had learned to speak English in unison. It wasn't Gaea. But whatever it was, the twin giants became nervous. They shifted on their snakes and bobbed their heads respectfully. "Except, of course, my own skill. Centuries of Athênê's rage can only be contained so well, and the great Earth Mother churns below us in her sleep. Between those two forces, well...my nest has quite eroded. Athênê has done nothing but pour power into the connection that she has with it and now look, it is over 40 feet tall. We must hope this child of Athênê proves to be a worthy victim. She may be my last plaything if the Son of Troy doesn't manage to find us somewhere more worthy to go."

Ephialtes gulped. He kept his eyes on the crack in the floor. "Soon it will not matter, Your Ladyship. Gaea will rise, and we all will be rewarded. You will no longer have to guard this place, or keep your works hidden."

"Perhaps," said the voice in the dark. "But I will miss the sweetness of my revenge. We have worked well together over the centuries, have we not?"

The twins bowed. The coins glittered in Ephialtes's hair, and Octavian realized with nauseating certainly that some of them were silver drachma, exactly like the one Annabeth had gotten from her mom. Each generation, a few children of Athênê were sent on the quest to recover the missing statue. The giant Ephialtes had centuries' worth of coins in his braids—hundreds of trophies. This was proof that none of his family's sacrifices had been in vain and yet...

"Uh, Your Ladyship," Ephialtes said nervously. "I would remind you that Gaea wishes the girl to be taken alive. You can torment her. Drive her insane. Whatever you wish, of course. But her blood must be spilt on the ancient stones."

Her Ladyship hissed. "Others could be used for that purpose."

"Y-yes," Ephialtes said. "But this girl is preferred. And the boys—the son of Poseidón or the son of Troy. You can see why those two would be most suited for the task."

Octavian would tear the planet apart with his bare hands before he let Gaea spill his blood for any task. He sacrificed enough in life... he would be damned before he did it in death also.

"We will see," Her Ladyship grumbled. "Leave me now. Tend to your own preparations. You will have your spectacle. And I... I will work in darkness."

The dream dissolved.

---

Octavian only had a brief moment of confusion before he realized that they were being attacked.

Because Livia was darting in out of the masses that had filed into the room, biting at their opponents like an actual ankle biter. Absently, he could hear Festus blowing fire and Lina's furious growls ringing throughout the air. The floorboards were moving, and he could almost taste the magic that was in the air.

He couldn't see that well in the dark, but Jason had managed to garner enough strength for Shield of Electricity allowing them a little light and some breathing room. The invaders seemed to be humanlike dolphins, or dolphin like humans. Some had gray snouts. Others held their swords in stunted flippers. Some waddled-on legs partially fused together, while others had flippers for feet. They seemed to be everywhere, overrunning the ship and every single last one of them through the strength of numbers alone.

The alarm bell was ringing irritably over throughout the ship, but he and Jason moved forward as best as they could. The shield was powering down bit by bit as Jason tried to conserve his strength as the little rest that he had did not do well for his exhaustion. Some of them seemed a little unnerved when Octavian's eyes started to gleam gold, but they didn't take heed to the warning, so he kept moving forward. Lina let out a mournful howl and Octavian—he went ballistic.

He tore into the freaks, dagger cutting through them without any remorse. Jason stood at his side, lightning shooting from his claws and every step a clap of thunder followed, but it was no good. It was too many and the sounds of fighting tapered off from the others. They dragged him up first and a couple of them got a little handsy as they tied him up and throwing him near where Leo was half-conscious and groaning on a pile of ropes. He landed in a way that he knew was purposeful giving that the ropes emphasize the curve of his ass and thighs.

He always knew dolphins were perverts.

Octavian rolled over, inwardly snarling at the way the ropes grip his pecs. Oh, they were dead. They were so fucking dead.

(In the back of his mind, he was doing his best to ignore the sight of New Roma University's department of social sciences as they paraded him around the room and showed him off to their equally creepy friends. He was going to eat their hearts out.)

There was another boat: another trireme; black sails painted with a gorgon's head; hulking warriors, not quite human—more of those damn perverts!—, crowded at the front of the boat in Greek armor, swords and spears ready. Several dozen warriors lowered their spears and made a ring around Perseus and Malysia while another was surrounding Annabeth and Jake, wisely keeping out of striking distance of Perseus and Malysia's swords. The dolphin-men opened their snouts and made whistling, popping noises.

One by one, the others were dragged forward. Lina had clearly clawed and mauled a few of them from the looks of things, but he still couldn't help the growl that ripped out of his throat seeing her hanging limply in one of their arms, blood coating her mouth as whatever they did her made her revert to her human form. He heard a small laugh coming from one of the circles and he took note of who was clearly the leader. He appeared to be fully human, dressed in Greek combat armor—sandals, kilt, and greaves, a breastplate decorated with elaborate sea monster designs—and everything he wore was gold. Even his sword, a Greek blade, was gold though Octavian could get behind. His visor was a full-face mask fashioned like a gorgon's head—curved tusks, horrible features pinched into a snarl, and golden snake hair curling around the face.

But everything else?

It totally didn't look like a show of power and might.

Not at all.

It was kind of tacky. He could break up all the shiny a little, you know; a contrasting colour or something. Invest in some silver or try white or rose gold or something.

It was something about that visor that irritated the hell out of him though.

"Who are you?" Perseus demanded. "What do you want?"

The golden warrior chuckled. With a flick of his blade, faster than Octavian could follow, he smacked Riptide out of Perseus' hand and sent it flying into the sea.

"Hello, brother." The golden warrior's voice was rich and velvety, with an exotic accent— Middle Eastern, maybe. "Always happy to rob a fellow son of Poseidón. I am Khrysaôr, the Golden Sword. As for what I want..." He turned his metal mask around the ship. "Well, that's easy. I want everything you have."

Octavian's heart did jumping jacks while Khrysaôr walked back and forth, inspecting them like prized cattle. Lina was dropped onto the ropes beside him and Leo. He wished that her magical girl transformation left her in semi state because he could have really used her claws right then to untie himself. He sighed inwardly. It looked like he was going to have to do it the hard way and from the way that Pranjal was looking at him from where he was strung up, the medic didn't like it in fashion.

A dozen of his dolphin-man warriors stayed in a ring around the others, spears leveled at their chest, while dozens more ransacked the ship, banging and crashing around below decks and all the while paying Octavian no mind as he braced himself to break his own wrist. He didn't care what television or fanfiction or whatever other bullshit said. It was hard to do, and it hurt like hell! It took all of his strength to not cry out and even then, he was sure he gave a few pitiful whimpers if the way one little dolphin made unsubtly adjusted his trousers.

Octavian was not a furry, thank you very much.

One carried a box of ambrosia up the stairs. Another carried an armful of ballista bolts and a crate of Greek fire.

"Careful with that!" Annabeth warned. "It'll blow up both our ships."

"Ha!" Khrysaôr said. "We know all about Greek fire, girl. Don't worry. We've been looting and pillaging ships on the Mare Nostrum for eons."

"Your accent sounds familiar," Perseus said. "Have we met?"

"I haven't had the pleasure." Khrysaôr's golden gorgon mask snarled at him, though it was impossible to tell what his real expression might be underneath. "But I've heard all about you, Percy Jackson. Oh, yes, the young man who saved Olympus. And his faithful sidekick, Annabeth Chase."

"I'm nobody's sidekick," Annabeth growled. "And, Percy, his accent sounds familiar because he sounds like his mother. We killed her in New Jersey."

Perseus frowned. "I'm pretty sure that accent isn't New Jersey. Who's his—? Oh."

Ahh that's right. He was also the son of Medousa. Octavian wondered which one because there was the one that was born a monster to Ketô and Phorkys and then there was the mortal that was born to Aix, the daughter of Echidna. The myths got a little confusing at times when it came to parentage. Late classical poets claim that Medusa was once a beautiful woman who was transformed into a monster by Minerva as punishment for lying with Neptūnus in her shrine.

Earlier Greek writers and artists, however, simply portray her as a monster born into a large family of monsters. (Easily to tell the difference as Hesiod, an actual greek poet noted that Poseidón laid with Medousa, in a soft meadow and among spring flowers while Ovidius—the ass—stated that Medusa was violated in Minerva's shrine by Neptūnus.)

"Medusa is your mom?" he asked. "Dude, that sucks for you."

Judging from the sound in Khrysaôr's throat, he was now snarling under the mask, too.

"You are as arrogant as the, first Perseus," Khrysaôr said. "But, yes, Percy Jackson. Poseidón was my father. Medusa was my mother. After Medusa was changed into a monster by that so-called goddess of wisdom..." The golden mask turned on Annabeth and Octavian paused from where he was trying to untie the knots around his wrists. That was... living for so long and believing his own bullshit must've twisted the details in his head. Whatever. Not his circus. Not his monkeys. "That would be your mother, I believe.. .Medusa's two children were trapped inside her, unable to be born. When the original Perseus cut off Medusa's head—"

"Two children sprang out," Annabeth remembered. "Pegasus and you."

Perseus blinked. "So, your brother is a winged horse. But you're also my half-brother, which means all the flying horses in the world are my... You know what? Let's forget it. But if you're Medusa's kid," he said, "why haven't I ever heard of you?"

Khrysaôr sighed in exasperation. "When your brother is Pegasus, you get used to being forgotten. Oh, look, a winged horse! Does anyone care about me? No!" He raised the tip of his blade to Perseus's eyes. An apparition flickered in Octavian's peripheral, and he turned his head just a bit to see that it was Livia, blue eyes swirling to the point that Octavian knew to look away. "But don't underestimate me. My name means the Golden Sword for a reason."

"Imperial gold?" Jake guessed.

"Bah! Enchanted gold, yes. Later on, the Romans called it Imperial gold, but I was the first to ever wield such a blade. I should have been the most famous hero of all time! Since the legend-tellers decided to ignore me, I became a villain instead."

"That's not true," Octavian called out. "You're the father of Gêryôn by Kallirrhoê. He was the most powerful of all men mortal and you were named as dear to Árēs. The Boy with the golden sword though in some cases you were described as a winged boar and other times as a giant and everyone knows that Poseidôn is infamous for his own giant sons though you're looking a little small for one. Six feet at best."

"Well, I am glad that someone knows their history," and while Octavian couldn't see it, he had could hear the leer in his voice and next time, Octavian was sleeping with a shirt on. "Anyway, I resolved to put my heritage to use. As the son of Medusa, I would inspire terror. As the son of Poseidón, I would rule the seas!"

"You became a pirate," Annabeth summed up.

"The best pirate," Khrysaôr said as he spread his arms. "I've sailed these waters for centuries, waylaying any demigods foolish enough to explore the Mare Nostrum. I had a younger sister before. A mere babe compared to you all who entered here. She was feisty for her age and surprisingly strong but well, she's dead now and this is my territory. And all you have is mine."

Livia appeared at Octavian's side with a look of disgust and offense on her face. "Cheater," she grumbled. "Akmon and Turmś better."

"You got beat up by a kid," Perseus asked.

"No," Khrysaôr snarled as if his teeth were gritted. "She was dragged back from here by our darling brother."

"Liar," Livia murmured. "Snitch."

One of the dolphin warriors dragged Coach Hedge up from below. "Let me go, you tuna fish!" Hedge bellowed. He tried to kick the warrior, but his hoof clanged off his captor's armor. Judging from the hoof-shaped prints in the dolphin's breastplate and helmet, the coach had already made several attempts.

"Ah, a satyr," Khrysaôr mused. "A little old and stringy, but Cyclopes will pay well for a morsel like him. Chain him up."

"I'm nobody's goat meat!" Hedge protested.

"Gag him as well," Khrysaôr decided.

"Why you gilded little—" Hedge's insult was cut short when the dolphin put a greasy wad of canvas in his mouth. Soon the coach was trussed like a rodeo calf and dumped with the other loot— crates of food, extra weapons, even the magical ice chest from the mess hall.

"You can't do this!" Annabeth shouted.

Khrysaôr's laughter reverberated inside his gold face mask. Octavian wondered if he was horribly disfigured under there, or if his gaze could petrify people the way his mother's could.

"I can do anything I want," Khrysaôr said. "My warriors have been trained to perfection. They are vicious, cutthroat—"

"Dolphins," Perseus noted.

Khrysaôr shrugged. "Yes. So? They had some bad luck a few millennia ago, kidnapped the wrong person. Some of their crew got turned completely into dolphins. Others went mad. But these...these survived as hybrid creatures. When I found them under the sea and offered them a new life, they became my loyal crew. They fear nothing!"

One of the warriors chattered at him nervously.

"Yes, yes," Khrysaôr growled. "They fear one thing, but it hardly matters. He's not here."

More dolphin warriors climbed the stairs, hauling up the rest of the crew. Jason was unconscious and oh, when Octavian got his hands on those bastards. Judging from the new bruises on his face, he'd tried to fight even after he had pulled there. All of them were bound hand and foot. Drew and her sisters had gags in their mouth, so apparently the dolphins had discovered they could charmspeak. Ironic since Lilith did not have that ability. Lou Ellen and Terrell were knocked unconscious, probably in attempt to keep them from using any magic. Frank was the only one missing, though two of the dolphins had bee stings covering their faces.

Could Frank actually turn into a swarm of bees? Octavian hoped so. If he was free aboard the ship somewhere, that could be an advantage.

"Excellent!" Khrysaôr gloated. He directed his warriors to dump Jason by the crossbows. Then he examined the girls like they were Christmas presents. Oh, great. A misogynic asshole.

"Lycaon would love his little wolf-pup back and the boys are no use to me," Khrysaôr said. "But we have an understanding with the witch Kirkê. She will buy the women—either as slaves or trainees, depending on their skill. But not you, lovely Annabeth."

Annabeth recoiled. "You are not taking me anywhere."

The golden warrior tutted. "Oh, sadly, Annabeth, you will not be staying with me. I would love that. But you, the darling Drew, Perseus and the Son of Troy are spoken for. A certain goddess is paying a high bounty for your capture—alive, if possible, though she didn't say you had to be unharmed."

At that moment, Drew and Piper caused the disturbance they needed. They wailed so loudly it could be heard through their gags. Then Piper fainted against the nearest guard, knocking him over. The others got the idea and crumpled to the deck, kicking their legs and thrashing like they were having fits.

Perseus drew Riptide and lashed out. The blade should have gone straight through Khrysaôr's neck, but the golden warrior was unbelievably fast. He dodged and parried as the dolphin warriors backed up, guarding the other captives while giving their captain room to battle. They chattered and squeaked, egging him on, and Octavian got the sinking suspicion the crew was used to this sort of entertainment. They didn't feel their leader was in any sort of danger. That was fine by him. Livia had stayed solid long enough to untie him and set his fingers back in place.

They battled back and forth, thrusting and parrying. Perseus feinted and thrust at Khrysaôr's gut, but Khrysaôr anticipated the move. He knocked Perseus sword out of his hand again, and once more Riptide flew into the sea. Khrysaôr laughed easily. He wasn't even winded. He pressed the tip of his golden sword against Perseus' sternum.

"A good try," said the pirate. "But now you'll be chained and transported to Gaea's minions. They are quite eager to spill your blood and wake the goddess."

"Aw," the sound of Livia's voice echoed all around them in the fog. "It was just getting good."

All of them turned to look around them. The dolphin warriors drew weapons as her familiar eerie laugh sounded through the fog. The water from where the pirate's ship must have slammed against theirs began to move across the deck. A flash of fear appeared on their faces at the way it continued to move no matter how many times Perseus and Khrysaôr waved their hands. Some of them jumped when more water splashed onto the deck. No one appeared and yet— and yet, more splashes of water appeared like footsteps as it moved to join the puddle in the middle.

It began to shift, and Octavian's sure he isn't the only one who sees it glowing red.

"Show yourself," Khrysaôr demanded, sword pointed at the puddle.

"I don't think you're ready," her voice whispered through the wind. Still, it was like something right out of a horror movie as a head began to rise out of the water, eyes dark and was that a dagger in her mouth? He really needed to know exactly how long she had been out of the Underworld as she looked almost exactly like Samara from the Ring. She was her teenage form. Her hair was waterlogged, covering her face from view and her previously tanned skin was a murky grey. She was wearing a white dress that was tattered and soaked with water, turning it brownish-yellow, grey, and black. And then like an actual glitch, a skeleton form of her was seen with sunken eyes and burnt skin before she appeared whole again, though this time different. She was still in her teenage form; her hair was braided down her back with a burette that looked more like an imperial gold battle axe. She was dressed in interlocking chains that were splayed in a way that none could see her body but were still at risk of dying from the spiked ends that he just knew were capped with poison.

"Who... who are you," the pirate asked.

"A foe who won't run," The smile on her face was just as dark as it was eerie. She prowled forward slowly, letting the tip of his sword touch her chest. "Unlike any you have faced before." She glitched again only to reappear at his back, one hand cupping the side of his head. "One filled with rage as you're consumed by age." She leaned in closer, voice dropping to a whisper, yet it still seemed to echo around them. "You cannot be saved."

She cackled loudly, moving away as Khrysaôr spun around towards her. "Different mothers within the spirit of the same womb. May the gods strike me down if I forsake you." The puddles on the ground began to steam as she stepped back closer to him, smiling as he backed away from her.

"Who am I," she hummed, tapping a finger against her chin. Her canine teeth seemed to elongate into actual fangs as she opened her arms wide. "Maybe my name could also be known that I helped return good to the people and restored greatness to ROME!"

Thunder boomed around them. Livia cackled, madness in her eyes as she looked to the sky, laughter not unlike the Joker sounded around them. "Frater meus, something wicked this way comes. And what's more wrong, that I too wish to be great or that my mother wished that she'd had a son?"

Octavian gulped and he could see the pale faces of their crewmates as they watched her performance. "I too have a destiny," she murmured, waving her hands to those around her before pointing her finger at Annabeth. "And this death will be art. The people will speak of this day from near and afar. This event will be history and I'll be great too. Get away from this ship or her nephew will come for you."

"She's right!" Perseus shouted, so loudly that he got everyone's attention. "Take us away, if our captain will let you."

Khrysaôr turned his golden mask. "What captain? My men searched the ship. There is no one else."

Perseus raised his hands dramatically. "The god appears only when he wishes. But he is our leader. He runs our camp for demigods. Doesn't he, Annabeth?"

Annabeth was quick. "Yes!" She nodded enthusiastically. "Mr. D! The great Dionysus!"

A ripple of uneasiness passed through the dolphin-men. One dropped his sword.

"Stand fast!" Khrysaôr bellowed. "There is no god on this ship. They are trying to scare you."

"You should be scared!" Perseus looked at the pirate crew with sympathy. "Dionysus will be severely cranky with you for having delayed our voyage. He will punish all of us. Didn't you notice the girls falling into the wine god's madness?"

Octavian knew one thing for sure. The girls and Rue, Chelsea, and Daniele were quick on the uptake. They started trembling and flopping around like fish. The dolphin-men fell over themselves trying to get away from their captives.

"Fakes!" Khrysaôr roared. "Shut up, Percy Jackson. Your camp director is not here. He was recalled to Olympus. This is common knowledge."

"So you admit Dionysus is our director!" Percy said.

"He was," Khrysaôr corrected. "Everyone knows that."

Perseus gestured at the golden warrior like he'd just betrayed himself. "You see? We are doomed. If you don't believe me, let's check the ice chest!" He stormed over to the magical cooler. No one tried to stop him. He knocked open the lid and rummaged through the ice. He brandished a silver-and-red can of soda at the dolphin warriors as if spraying them with bug repellent.

"Behold!" Perseus shouted. "The god's chosen beverage. Tremble before the horror of Diet Coke!"

The dolphin-men began to panic. They were on the edge of retreat.

"I doubt that Lord Līber would be happy to know that you've taken his daughter captive just as you did him." This time even Khrysaôr froze in shock, turning to look at Octavian smiled to himself as he pointed towards where Livia was checking over Esra who had managed to push herself into a corner.

"aphòdeuma," Khrysaôr muttered.

"The god will take your ship," Perseus warned. "He will finish your transformation into dolphins, or make you insane, or transform you into insane dolphins! Your only hope is to swim away now, quickly!"

"Ridiculous!" Khrysaôr's voice turned shrill. He didn't seem sure where to level his sword —at Perseus or his own crew. They didn't seem to notice the puddle that Livia had left swirling around the deck.

"Save yourselves!" Perseus warned. "It is too late for us!" Then he gasped and pointed to the spot where Frank was hiding. "Oh, no! Frank is turning into a crazy dolphin!"

Nothing happened.

"I said" Perseus repeated, "Frank is turning into a crazy dolphin!"

Frank stumbled out of nowhere, making a big show of grabbing his throat. "Oh, no," he said, like he was reading from a teleprompter. "I am turning into a crazy dolphin." Octavian wanted to facepalm. He desperately needed classes in espionage.

Frank began to change, his nose elongating into a snout, his skin becoming sleek and gray. He fell to the deck as a dolphin, his tail thumping against the boards. The pirate crew disbanded in terror, chattering and clicking as they dropped their weapons, forgot the captives, ignored Khrysaôr's orders, and jumped overboard. In the confusion, Annabeth moved quickly to cut the bonds on everyone. Within seconds, Khrysaôr was alone and surrounded. None of them had weapons except Annabeth's dagger, Hedge's hooves, Lou Ellen and Terrell's magic, and Lina's very sharp claws, but the murderous looks on their faces evidently convinced the golden warrior he was doomed.

He backed to the edge of the rail.

"This isn't over, Jackson," Khrysaôr growled. "I will have my revenge—"

His words were cut short by Frank, who had changed form again. An eight-hundred-pound grizzly bear can definitely break up a conversation. He sideswiped Khrysaôr and raked the golden mask off his helmet. Khrysaôr screamed, instantly covering his face with his arms and tumbling into the water. They ran to the rail. Khrysaôr had disappeared.

"Brilliant," a musical voice stated from behind them. As one they all turned around to see a beautiful, dark-haired woman whose head appeared from Livia's puddle. She flew up from the water as a seagull might, sat on the strong-bound raft. She was dressed in a mix of seaweed and ivy that she somehow made look fashionable. "That was brilliant," she continued.

Livia smiled widely, shrinking down back to her child form and throwing herself at the woman who caught her and placed her on her hip. She walked around them, waving her hand every which of way and he could see how Perseus shuddered and seemed to glow a bit brighter.

"Nice touch," the woman said— or well, the goddess because it was clear that she was one—to Frank, patting him on the head. She kept moving until she was in front of Esra. "Look at you girly. You remind me very much of your Father back when we were in Thêbai. He was just as small as you and his curls fell just a bit longer than your braids. Macris and Ḗpeiros used to love braiding his hair also. A child born of the divine always had the better hair.""

"Who... who are you," Hank asked, protective as the other legionnaires of their beloved former praetor.

"Hm," the goddess said. "Well, Princess Livia already gave you a clue."

They turned to the phantom, who smiled sharply, canines glinting under the moonlight. The child pointed at Khrysaôr's boat. "Get away from this ship and her nephew will come for you."

"Nephew," Esra murmured. "You are Inô. I mean Leukothéa. Daughter of Harmonia and Kádmos. The aunt of Lord Dionysos."

"Very good," Inô said. "I was Inô once. But I am now, Leukothéa, the goddess of the Ionian Sea and Protector of sailors."

"Why are you here," Drew asked, moving closer to the goddess.

"I originally came to capture the Tyrrhenian pirates," Leukothéa informed them. "None of them have learned the lesson that my nephew taught them so long ago." Her dark eyes flickered towards Octavian. "They had plans, you know. To captured one of you and violate such a pretty boy and then sell you to the Great Mother. It certainty did not help their cause that they had his daughter on this ship and planned to sell her into slavery. I fear that Kirkê may have to find another way to acquire her helpers. Still, you all did brilliantly."

"It was desperate," Perseus corrected. Leukothéa shrugged, "What will you do now, my prince?" Her eyes seemed to sparkle as she looked at Perseus. The boy blanched at the title before looking away cautiously. Livia scowled. "We need to get rid of this pirate trireme."

"Burn it?" Annabeth asked.

Perseus looked at the Diet Coke in his hand. "No. I've got another idea."

Leukothéa watched them as they all worked. She whispered words with Livia, throwing her into the air and catching her delighting in her giggles as she did so. Octavian wondered if Khrysaôr and his pirate dolphins would return, but if he doubted that they would if Leukothéa was really after them. Leo got back on his feet, thanks to a little nectar. Pranjal tended to Jason's wounds, but he wasn't as badly hurt as he looked. Mostly he was just ashamed that he'd gotten overpowered again. They returned all their own supplies to the proper places and tidied up from the invasion while Coach Hedge had a field day on the enemy ship, breaking everything, he could find with his baseball bat and Drew carved everything up because apparently someone destroyed a pair of her balenciaga and her scarf that she got from Hermès that was a gift from her foster-father. When they were done, Perseus loaded the enemy's weapons back on the pirate ship. Their storeroom was full of treasure, but Perseus insisted that they touch none of it.

"I can sense about six million dollars' worth of gold aboard," Rue said. The children of the Herald and even the daughters of doves hands were twitching as Rue continued. "Plus diamonds, rubies—"

"Six m-million?" Frank stammered. "Canadian dollars or American?"

"Leave it," Perseus said, ignoring the way that Travis, Mark, Hank, and Cecil were all giving him puppy-dog eyes. "It's part of the tribute."

"Tribute?" Lilith asked.

"Oh." Drew nodded. "Kansas."

Jason grinned. He'd been there too when they'd met the wine god. "Crazy. But I like it."

Finally Perseus went aboard the pirate ship and opened the flood valves. He asked Leo to drill a few extra holes in the bottom of the hull with his power tools, and Leo was happy to oblige. Leukothéa smiled the entire time. The crew of the Argo II assembled at the rail and cut the grappling lines. Drew brought out her new horn of plenty and, on Perseus's direction, willed it to spew Diet Coke, which came out with the strength of a fire hose, dousing the enemy deck. The ship sank remarkably fast, filling with Diet Coke and seawater.

"Dionysus," Perseus called, holding up Khrysaôr 's golden mask. "Or Bacchus, Līber—whatever. You made this victory possible, even if you weren't here. Your enemies trembled at your name...or your Diet Coke, or something. So, yeah, thank you." The words seemed hard to get out, but Perseus managed it. "We give this ship to you as tribute. We hope you like it."

"Six million in gold," Leo muttered. "He'd better like it."

"Shh," Rue scolded. "Precious metal isn't all that great. Believe me."

Perseus threw the golden mask aboard the vessel, which was now sinking even faster, brown fizzy liquid spewing out the trireme's oar slots and bubbling from the cargo hold, turning the sea frothy brown. Leukothéa stepped forward, glowing just a bit. "Be favourable, O Insewn, Inspirer of frenzied women! we singers sing of you as we begin and as we end a strain, and none forgetting you may call holy song to mind. And so, farewell, Dionysos, Insewn, with your mother Semelê whom men call Thyônê." A wave rose from the sea, slamming down harshly. They all turned their heads away as the ARGO II rocked from the strength of it. When they turned back to look, the enemy ship was swamped and Leukothéa and Livia were nowhere to be found.

"Isn't that polluting?" Piper asked.

"I wouldn't worry," Jason told her. "If Līber likes it, the ship should vanish."

After their bout with the pirates, they decided to fly the rest of the way to Roma. Jason insisted he was well enough to take sentry duty, along with Coach Hedge, who was still so charged with adrenaline that every time the ship hit turbulence, he swung his bat and yelled, "Die!"

They had a couple of hours before daybreak, so Jason suggested Perseus try to get a few more hours of sleep.

"It's fine, man," Jason said. "Give somebody else a chance to save the ship, huh?" He then turned to Octavian, stepping into his space. "You should get some more sleep too, Tav."

Octavian reluctantly agreed, stopping by the infirmary to check on Lina who was being treated for the drugging and to heal his own broken bones, though once in his cabin, he had trouble falling asleep. The Son of Troy is spoken for. He wondered if that was all he was going to be known as ... he wondered if all there to him was the power that was locked in his blood. He didn't feel powerful. Octavian was just good for reading the future and his orator abilities. He didn't feel powerful enough to be a part of such a legacy. His little sister — a dead version of her at that — was more help on this quest than he had been. What good was he when he was forced to hide away on this ship like a damsel in distress? He felt like a fraud. So many people in his family that did incredible things, both good and bad... He was born to the same line as Emperor Augustus, followed by Emperor Tiberius, then Emperor Claudius, and the vilest of them all Emperors Caligula and Nero. There was Remus and Romulus further onwards to Aineíās and of course, Ariadnê. Hektōr. Ankhísēs. Capys. Assarakos. Tros. Erichthonius. Ilos. Dardanos.

And he was just Octavian, the auger that was better at consulting the hostiae than the consult the auspices. Octavian knew himself very well. He knew that his fatal flaw was his húbris and maybe Rue's words held some meaning when they told him that his pride blinded to the things around him but now he wondered if a person could have more than one. He wondered if holding a grudge was a fatal flaw because he knew that he held one against Athena and Diomedes that was leading him to his death. There was also his temptation to deliberate. For years in Camp Jupiter, he always relied on careful choices, compromises, and hearing both sides of a debate to manipulate to his liking. He did what he could to make sure that he was one step ahead and for what? To outlive a curse that he was walking into willingly. In a way, Drew was right. He did keep his head in the clouds. He never chose what he wanted. He never knew where he wanted to belong. He always felt as if he was blown place to place, undecided, changing from day to day because... because it was better than facing the reality that he was all alone.

Even when he was surrounded by people, he was alone.

Now, though, he was starting to doubt himself just a bit. Despite how much he tried to casually disregard it, he knew that the other people on this ship cared about him. Drew with her weird way of comfort that spoke of being broken in a way so similar to himself. Rue who looked at him as if they could see his soul and didn't pity him for how badgered it looked. There was Frank who still looked at him as if Octavian would— and let's be honest, he will—uncover all his secrets. There was Perseus and Leo whom were connected to him by the people that have loved him since he was but a child even if one of them was dead. And Jason was... Jason was Jason.

Octavian didn't need a family. His first one got killed, but... there was Pranjal who would come to the Iovis Optimi Maximi Capitolini to make sure that he was wearing his hearing aids or to drag him out of the temple so that he could force feed him soup— or strap him down to the infirmary bed until he felt better. Esra was his former praetor who had always taken time out of her schedule to talk to him after the war — after the death of Augustus and the disappearance of Jason; always checking in to make sure that he was okay to keep going. Daniele who snuck into his bed and cuddled him when the nightmares became too much. Chelsea and Lavinia who would corner him at different times asking for his opinions on songs when all three of them knew that he was nowhere near as gifted as the children of the Mneiae.

They weren't his family, but they were scarily resembling one.

Exhaustion finally overtook him.

---

He fell asleep, and in his nightmare, he was standing in the ruins of an ancient city. Hissarlik, if he could guess. It had to be. The way that he could feel it as if the city was actually alive. The sleeping face of who could only be Mother Earth, Gaea herself, appeared before him. Her massive features formed from the shadows on the grassy slopes. Her lips didn't move, but her voice echoed across the valley.

"This is your legacy," Gaea murmured. "This is all that is left of you. You should have returned to your people. At least then you could have died with your comrades when the Romans invade. Now your blood will be spilled far from home, on the ancient stones, and I will rise."

The ground shook. And it was as if Schliemann had returned again with his piles of dynamite, doing to Troy what the Greeks could not do in their times, destroying and levelling down the entire city walls to the ground. Disruption rolled across the valley—grass turning to sand, the stone walls crumbling to dust. The river and the lake dried up. When the tremor stopped, Hissarlik looked like a wasteland after an atomic blast. The only thing left was plaque where what people believed to be Hektōr's footprint that Octavian was standing on.

Next to him, the dust swirled and solidified into the figure of a woman. Her eyes were closed, as if she were sleepwalking. Her robes were forest green, dappled with gold and white like sunlight shifting through branches. Her hair was as black as tilled soil. Her face was beautiful, but even with a dreamy smile on her lips she seemed cold and distant.

"When I reclaim the earth," Gaea said, "I will leave this spot barren forever, to remind me of your kind and how utterly powerless they were to stop me. It doesn't matter when you fall, my sweet little pawn—to Phorcys or Khrysaôr or my dear twins. You will fall, and I will be there to devour you. Your only choice now... will you fall alone? Come to me willingly; bring the girl. Perhaps I will spare this place of trials and tribulations. Otherwise..."

Gaea opened her eyes. They swirled in green and black, as deep as the crust of the earth.

Gaea saw everything. Her patience was infinite. She was slow to wake, but once she arose, her power was unstoppable.

Octavian's skin tingled. His hands went numb. He looked down and realized he was crumbling to dust, like all the monsters he'd ever defeated.

"Enjoy Tartarus, my little pawn," Gaea purred.

---

A metallic CLANG-CLANG-CLANG jolted Octavian out of his dream. His eyes shot open. He realized he'd just heard the landing gear being lowered. There was a knock on his door, and Jason poked his head in. The bruises on his face had faded. His blue eyes glittered with excitement. Octavian's heart fluttered in his chest.

"Hey," he said. "We're descending over Rome. You really should see this."

The sky was brilliant blue, as if the stormy weather had never happened. The sun rose over the distant hills, so everything below them shone and sparkled like the entire city of Roma was freshly placed upon the earth. Octavian's knees nearly buckled, feeling the ancient power that flowed through the city. He could feel it calling out to him. Roma grabbed him by the throat and made it hard to breathe. This is where you belong. This is your real legacy.

It spread through hills and valleys, jumped over the Tiber with dozens of bridges, and just kept sprawling to the horizon. Streets and alleys zigzagged with no rhyme or reason through quilts of neighborhoods. Glass office buildings stood next to excavation sites. A cathedral stood next to a line of Roman columns, which stood next to a modern soccer stadium. In some neighborhoods, old stucco villas with red-tiled roofs crowded the cobblestone streets, so that if Octavia concentrated just on those areas, letting the gold bleed into his eyes, he could imagine he was back in ancient times.

Everywhere he looked, there were wide piazzas and traffic-clogged streets. Parks cut across the city with a crazy collection of palm trees, pines, junipers, and olive trees, as if Roma couldn't decide what part of the world it belonged to—or maybe it just believed all the world still belonged to Roma. It was as if the city knew about his dream of Gaea. It knew that the earth goddess intended on razing all human civilization, and this city, which had stood for thousands of years, was saying back to her: You wanna dissolve this city? Give it a shot.

"We're setting down in that park," Blaise announced, pointing to a wide green space dotted with palm trees. He was standing next to his brother dressed in a flight attendants' outfit. "Let's hope the Mist makes us look like a large pigeon or something."

"You know they make male flight attendant clothes," Leo asked, eyeing his brother.

Blaise flipped the hair of his wig. "Yeah, but I like height that the heels give me." Octavian snorted at the looney tunes quote.

The Argo II set down in the grassy field and the oars retracted. Pranjal found his way to Octavian's side, a soothing hand pressing against his back and easing his nerves. The noise of traffic was all around them, but the park itself was peaceful and deserted. To their left, a green lawn sloped toward a line of woods. An old villa nestled in the shade of some parasol pines. To their right, snaking along the top of a hill, was a long brick wall with notches at the top for archers—maybe a medieval defensive line, maybe Ancient Roman. To the north, about a mile away through the folds of the city, the top of the Colosseum rose above the rooftops, looking just like it did in travel photos. His beating heart sped in its song. This was home just as Camp Jupiter was home just as Hissarlik was home and just as Dardania was home.

Livia appeared in front of them, once more in her teenage form. Dressed in purple and scarlet colour, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, having a golden cup in her hand, she looked so much like a genderbent Perseus with long, dark hair that fell to her back and blue eyes so cold they made the Artic look like the Sahara Desert. She tipped her chalice towards them, smiling darkly just a bit. "Welcome to Roma," she mouthed before fading away like the Cheshire Cat.

Jason pointed to the base of the archers' wall, where steps led down into some kind of tunnel. "I think I know where we are," he said. "That's the Tomb of the Scipios."

Perseus frowned. "Scipico. Reyna's pegasus?"

"No," Annabeth put in. "They were a noble Roman family, and... wow, this place is amazing."

Jason nodded. "I've studied maps of Rome before. I've always wanted to come here, but..."

Nobody bothered finishing that sentence. Everyone was in awe just as he. They'd made it. They'd landed in Roma— the Roma.

"Plans?" Rue asked. "Nico has until sunset—at best. And this entire city is supposedly getting destroyed today."

Perseus shook himself out of his daze. "You're right. Annabeth... did you zero in on that spot from your bronze map?"

Yes," she said carefully. "It's on the Tiber River. I think I can find it, but I should—"

"Take me along," Jake finished. "Yeah, you're right." Annabeth glared daggers at him.

"That's not—"

"Safe," he supplied. "One demigod walking through Rome alone. I'll go with you as far as the Tiber. We can use that letter of introduction, hopefully meet the river god Tiberinus. Maybe he can give you some help or advice. Then you can go on alone from there."

They had a silent staring contest, but Jake didn't back down. It was Perseus who broke the silence. "I agree," he said, turning his eyes on Octavian. He inwardly groaned. He should have figured that this would happen. "I can go with you to speak with the guardians of the fire."

"Do you even know who that is," Octavian questioned.

Perseus shook his head and shrugged. "No, but you probably do and even if you sneak off, I'll just follow you."

Octavian rolled his eyes, casting a glance to Jason who wasn't saying anything, but Octavian knew was going to come anyway. He gave up all hope of arguing when Lina stepped up to his side and clasped her hands in his. He would have thought that she would have stuck to Leo's side instead of following him to the start of his epic solo death quest.

"Fine," Octavian muttered. "Rue, now that we're in Rome, do you think you can pinpoint Nico's location?"

"Um... hopefully, if I get close enough. I'll have to walk around the city. Frank, would you come with me?

Frank beamed. "Absolutely."

"And, uh...Leo," Rue added. "It might be a good idea if you came along too. The fish-centaurs said we'd need your help with something mechanical."

"Yeah," Leo said, "no problem."

Frank's smile turned into something more like Khrysaôr's mask.

Drew drew her knife and set it on the rail. "The rest of us can watch the ship for now. I'll see what Katropon can show me. But, Rue, if you guys get a fix on Nico's location, don't go in there by yourselves. Come back and get us. It'll take all of us to fight the giants."

She didn't say the obvious: even all of them together wouldn't be enough, unless they had a god on their side. Percy decided not to bring that up.

"Good idea," Perseus said. "How about we plan to meet back here at... what?"

"Three this afternoon?" Jason suggested. "That's probably the latest we could rendezvous and still hope to fight the giants and save Nico. If something happens to change the plan, try to send an Iris-message."

The others nodded in agreement, but Octavian noticed several of them glancing at him and Annabeth. Another thing no one wanted to say: they would be on a different schedule and chances are only one of them were going to come back.

Coach Hedge grunted. "That'll give me time to eat the coconuts—I mean dig the coconuts out of our hull. Jake, Annabeth...I don't like you two going off on your own. Just remember: behave. If I hear about any funny business, I will ground you until the Styx freezes over."

"We'll be back soon," Perseus promised watching as Jake and Annabeth flushed just a bit. Percy looked around at them all, probably trying not to feel like this was the last time they'd ever be together. "Good luck, everyone."

Leo lowered the gangplank, and Jake and Annabeth were first off the ship.

And once Octavian changed into some light armor and stocked up on a few weapons, he followed right after them with a trio of guard-wolves.

---

Under different circumstances, wandering through Roma with Jason would have been pretty wonderful. They held hands as they navigated the winding streets, dodging cars and crazy Vespa drivers, squeezing through mobs of tourists, and wading through oceans of pigeons. The day warmed up quickly. Once they got away from the car exhaust on the main roads, the air smelled of baking bread and freshly cut flowers. It was almost like walking through New Roma.

They aimed for the Colosseo because that was an easy landmark but getting there proved harder than Octavian anticipated. As big and confusing as the city had looked from above, it was even more so on the ground. Several times they got lost on dead-end streets. They found beautiful fountains and huge monuments by accident. And it wasn't long before they caught up with Jake and Annabeth.

Annabeth commented on the architecture, but Octavian kept his eyes open for other things.

Once he spotted a glowing purple ghost—a Lar—glaring at them or well, his companions from the window of an apartment building. Another time he saw a white-robed woman—maybe a nymph or a goddess—holding a wicked-looking knife, slipping between ruined columns in a public park. Nothing attacked them, but Octavian felt like they were being watched, and the watchers were not friendly. It didn't help that he was starting to see glimpses of Livia darting between the buildings, jumping across the roofs like a knock off Peter Pan.

Finally, they reached the Colosseo, where a dozen guys in cheap gladiator costumes were scuffling with the police—plastic swords versus batons. Octavian wasn't sure what that was about, but they kept walking. Sometimes mortals were even stranger than monsters though admittedly even demigods confused him. It was there that they split up but not before Perseus stopped to give Annabeth some encouraging words. She and Jake then went west while they continued on north. The few times someone approached them on the street and asked a question, Perseus and Lina just looked at them in confusion, and they switched to English or Jason and Octavian replied back in Italian from the lessons that they had while attending Aeneas Academia.

Next discovery: the Italians used euros, and while Octavian didn't have that... he did have his Family's bank card that was associated with the account that they had in New Roma. It didn't take much to buy a few items and he thought it would do just as well. He was walking to his death either way. He might as well spend the money.

"So, the guardians of the fire," Perseus asked, snacking on a meatball trapizzino. "Who are they?"

Octavian shrugged, smiling to himself as Jason swung their hands. He was surprised that no one was glaring at them as they did so until he realized that they were strolling down Gay Street di Roma. They were a lot of smiling faces that gaze at them. It was pretty chill and reminded him of the Gayborhood back in New Roma. "It could mean a lot of things, but I'm more willing to bet that it's about the Vestālēs. The Vestal Virgins."

"Vesta," Lina started. "She is the goddess of the hearth, yes? The latin equivalent of Hestia."

"Yes," Jason nodded his head. "The Vestālēs were her priestesses. They vowed to serve her for at least thirty years, to study and practice her rites in service of the Roman State, and to maintain their chastity throughout. They were chosen before puberty from a number of suitable candidates, freed from any legal ties and obligations to their birth family, and enrolled in Vesta's priestly college of six priestesses. They were supervised by a senior vestal but chosen and governed by Rome's leading male priest, the Pontifex maximus."

"Octavian," Lina questioned, looking at him. He hunched his shoulders just a bit.

"Wait, what," Jason asked, pulling him to a stop. "The pontifex maximus is like calling yourself the emperor. Octavian, what?"

"It didn't start like that," Octavian protested. "The pontifex maximus was the chief high priest in Ancient Roma before my namesake politicized it and thus it became associated with the Emperor. And while it ranked fifth of the highest Roman ordo sacerdotum. In the human world, the Pontifex Maximus was the most influential and powerful of all sacerdotes. Though, I also could have been the rex sacrorum but I am not married, and I would have barred from a political and military career."

"The others won't see it that way," Jason warned.

"Yeah, well I'll be dead, so it doesn't matter," Octavian shot back before he stormed away. They caught him to quickly and it was a little awkward at first, but there was nothing to say when Livia in her child form reappeared in front of them doing cartwheels.

"I don't like when you say things like that," Jason murmured. "I missed you," he confessed. "For months. A huge chunk of our lives was taken away. If I lost you again—"

"You'll have to trust me," Octavian said, casting his eyes away. "You've got to believe I'll come back."

I did even when I knew that you would come back different. Even when I know that for all that you are Jason, not all of you is the same, he thought to himself.

"I believe in you. That's not the problem," Jason assured. "But come back from where?"

Octavian didn't say anything.

"So, uh," Perseus started once more. "The Vestālēs. What else is there about them?"

"Well, they stayed in the The Temple of Vesta, or the Aedes Vestae as it was called. It's located up ahead in the Forum near the Regia and the House of the Vestal Virgins. The Temple of Vesta housed Vesta's holy fire, which was a symbol of Rome's safety and prosperity."

"The House of Vestal Virgins?"

"The House of the Vestal Virgins, yes. The Atrium Vestae was the residence of Vestal Virgins, located behind the Temple of Vesta at the eastern edge of the Forum, between the Regia and the Palatine Hill," Jason said. He shot a look at Octavian before continuing. "The domus publica, where the Pontifex Maximus dwelled, was located near the Atrium until that role was assumed by the emperors."

"They took turns to supervise Vesta's hearth, so that at least one Vestal was stationed there at all times. Vestals who allowed the sacred fire to go out were punished with whipping. Vestals who lost their chastity were guilty of incestum—which meant not pure in Latin—, but anyway, the offenders were sentenced to living burial, a bloodless death that must seem voluntary. Their sexual partners, if known, were publicly beaten to death. These were very rare events; most vestals retired with a generous pension and universal respect. They were then free to marry, though few of them did. Some appear to have renewed their vows." Octavian turned to look at Livia as her form flickered once more to her teenage form, eyes glinting dangerously as she turned and prowled away. "Mother was thinking of entering Via into the order. She had hopes that she would become the chief vestal, the Virgo Vestalis Maxima or Vestalium Maxima, 'greatest of the Vestals'. If she joined and became the chief vestal, then she would have overseen the work and morals of the Vestals and would be a member of the College of Pontiffs alongside me. The chief Vestal was probably the most influential and independent of Roma's high priestesses, having commitment to the maintenance of several different cults, maintaining personal connections to the family and cultivating the society of her equals among the Roman elite."

"I don't think Livia would have liked that," Lina laughed.

Octavian snorted. "Oh, no. She would have hated it. She would have been honored to serve Lady Vesta, but she would have hated it all the same."

"You were close to her too," Perseus asked Lina. She nodded her head. "Yeah. The Verus Family was more of a family to me than my own and I only knew them for about three years and some change since we lost touch."

"We still thought about you," Octavian assured her. "When it was down to just me, Gus, and Nia, she would always say that she wished that you were there to even it out." Mainly because they all knew that Livia wasn't going to be able to come back.

"You got any stories about her," Perseus asked. Lina nodded, a soft yet pained smile on her face.

"When I got bit," Lina started. "I could barely see through the pain and my own tears. But I could never forget the sight of Livia lifting the beast above her head with her bare hands and brutally jab her knee into its ribs. A full-grown wolf about 200 lbs and she just lifted him as if he were a feather."

Octavian chuckled. "She was always freakishly strong."

"She was talented and really overpowered," Lina said no doubt remembering the things she saw Livia do once she was let in on their secret. "I know none of us really fit the standard for human, but she was something different all together."

"She was divine," Octavian said as they came to a stop by the Forum. He gestured towards some trees, pulling out a few mistform necklaces that Terrel had taught Rue how to make. The child of Pluton had been getting better at using their powers, summoning gems directly from the ocean floor and utilize Terrell and Lou Ellen to show them how to make protection charms with the gemstones; something that the children of Doves joined in on.

"What are these for," Lina asked.

"You have to pay to visit the Forum usually months in advance. This way we won't have to waste extra time in the purchasing queues and can breeze through into the ancient site," Octavian smiled wryly. He looked around them, catching sight of a tourist map. "It's closer than I thought. We should have turned off on Via Nova instead continuing on Via dei Fori Imperiali. Via Nova would have put us much closer to the Atrium Vestae that we wouldn't have to do all this extra walking towards it." With another look around them, he led the other three in the direction of the residence.

At some point, Livia appeared at his side, holding his hand and swinging it back and forth. She was still dressed in purple and scarlet colour, and decked with gold and precious stones and pearls, but she looked more like a fashionably dressed kid now as if she belonged on Toddlers & Tiaras. Octavian hadn't even noticed when his eyes started to bleed gold and the ruins were overlaid with the images of the Forum as it was at the height of Roman power.

They came to a stop before the statues that stood outside the House of Vestals. In the overlapping images, he could see how they all stood grand, made of ivory and tended so carefully. As he looked around them, a steady stream of relatives, clients and supplicants looking for favours from these powerful women. It reminded him that despite them not having husbands or children, they were not cloistered away like nuns. The Vestals, who, despite their role as guardians of ancient and arcane rites, were both powerful and worldly figures in the ancient city. To the east of the atrium, there was a vaulted hall where a statue of Numa Pompilius, the founder of the cult, proudly sat.

"Let's go," Livia suddenly said, eyeing the statues in suspicion. They all turned to her, watching as she flickered through ages but the sneer on her face could curdle dairy. "There is no need to be here," she said. "I can take you to the statue." She looked towards Octavian. "And you can destroy it."

"I'm not going to destroy the statue," Octavian told her.

"What's the point of saving it," she scoffed, appearing as a teenager. "What? You wish to help the Graeci who have caused nothing but pain to our Family." There was a look of rage on her face.

"And what of Leo and Percy," Lina asked. Livia turned to look at her then looked at her twin brother. "My dear Lina, you must learn who is gold and who is simply gold plated."

"I'm doing it, Livia," Octavian told her. "I have to see this curse to the end and I shall get my answers here."

"And do you propose as a plan?" Her head tilted to the side. "The abomination searches for it also. What shall do you if she finds it first or if it you are too?"

"I'm going to destroy it," he swore, changing tune just as easily. The others startled at his words, but this was Livia. She never got to live a full life. How can he deny her something so simple? "This curse ends with me. Life dissolves, leaving not a mark." Livia stared at him, eyes glittering like the sea at high noon. She smiled at him once more before disappearing from sight.

"Well that is such a shame," a voice stated, cutting through the silence that had followed behind Livia's departure. The living quartet spun on their feet to see almost a dozen women shimmering before them, all dressed in ivory imperial toga pictas of differed shades. The one that stood in middle had hair that was divided and piled high and shaped into a bun, after which it was tied with purple fillets of wool. She was also wearing a palla draped over the back of her head as a veil. "I am afraid that as not a protector of the holy fire but also as Vestalium Maxima then I am unable to help you destroy such a sacred token that I gave my life to protect as long as it resided within this temple."

"You are a Vestal Virgin," Jason gulped.

"I am," the woman stated, moving to sit at the feet of what they presumed to be her statue. "I am Gegania, one of the two first Vestals."

Octavian and Jason dropped to their knees so fast in reverence that it still took a moment for Lina and Perseus to realize what was going on. Octavian's mind was racing... if she was one of the Vestals, then that mean the other women around them were Vestals also. Hands appeared in his line of sight as if they could touch him. "Rise, child of Roma. You need not to bend for I, divi Iuli filius." Son of the divine Julius. That was also not something that Octavian liked to flaunt considering that a lot of people still considered Julius Caesar as an actual dictator without realizing that was a military position that was abolished after his assassination. Considering that by abandoning the time restrictions usually applied in the case of the Roman dictatorship, it elevated Caesar's dictatorship into the monarchical sphere. And while New Roma did observe the mourning day marking the death of the divine Julian, none of them actually liked the man aside from admiring his battle record.

He stood to his feet. He also wasn't sure why she called him that since she came long before Julius Caesar was even a thread on the tapestry. She was one of the first right after Romulus established the kingdom.

"I do not believe that you truly want to destroy the Palladium," another one stated. She appeared right beside Gegania, dressed almost exactly like her. "Honestly, I believe that you are so blinded by the flames of war that you cannot see the things around you."

"War is what we are trying to stop," Perseus murmured.

"Is it," a third woman questioned. "What do you think will happen when either he or when the other child finds the Palladium? Do you believe the bonds that you have forged on your odyssey shall hold or will bitterness and pain and grief that has grown over millennia overtake either of them? If one of them were to die, this quest shall fail."

The other shades nodded. "If she were to return and the son of Troy was to descend in Pluton's house, would the son of Iovis not rage against it? Would you not wish to rip apart the earth if he were to return and your Wise Girl was lost to the dead?"

Gegania turned back to Octavian, "What are you fighting for? What reason do you have to alight these flames?"

"You called me the Son of Troy," he murmured. "You called me a child of Roma. What else can I am supposed to fight for other than my people? I wish to save them and I wish to break this curse on my family."

"What family do you fight for," a fourth one questions. There was anger in her eyes as she looked at him. Octavian paused. "I have none," he murmured. The other three opened their mouths to protest. "This curse will die with me."

"Even those in hell will suffer," she sneered. "They will burn as they should." Octavian felt fury overcome him, but before he could retaliate another one shushed her. "Quiet, Sister Rubria."

Rubria. The Vestal that was said to have been raped by Nero. Octavian pushed his anger down. As much as he didn't like the slander on his family, he could admit that anyone should burn it would be that member of the Julio-Claudian family. He looked at her, in the eyes instead of avoiding them as it was polite to do; "Then they will... I will just have to burn if it meant protecting my people."

They look at him... all eleven of them before pointing towards another temple. "He awaits you there. You must go alone."

"What, no," Jason immediately protests. His eyes were wide in panic. "Please. Lady Gegania. Please. Let me—let us go with him. Just a little further."

The other Vestals tittered small laughs as they looked between them knowingly.

"You cannot, child," the second woman states. "Octavian Verus has a different path that he must walk alone. And you all have less time than you realize to rescue your friend in the jar."

Perseus seized as if he couldn't believe that he had forgotten Nico.

"You must return to your ship and gather your other friends," she continued. "And watch for the Gigante. The twins aren't the only ones that linger. The way will appear in your friend Drew's knife."

"It's all right, you guys." Octavian said, reaching out to squeeze Jason's hand. "I need to do this."

'You're right," Jason said, forcing out the words into something that resembled a growl more than a voice. "Be safe."

Rubria giggled like it was a ridiculous comment. "Safe? Not at all! But necessary, I suppose. Go, Octavian, my dear. He awaits you. After that, you're on your own."

Octavian hesitated for a moment before turning to hug Lina tightly and clasping Perseus on the shoulder. He turned to Jason, pressing a deep kiss to his lips, pouring all his frustration and regrets and unsaid words into it before pulling away. Then he fixed his clothes and turned towards the ruins of the next temple.

---

He didn't have to go far, and with the way his eyes were still bleeding gold, giving him double vision... he realized that he had come across the Temple of Concordia. A lone figure stood outside, lounging gracefully against the wall. Octavian took the moment to assess them, weighing them up just in case of a threat. He didn't doubt that this was Indiges, but he still had to be cautious. He was somewhat auburn-haired in the way that the strands seemed dark until he tilted his head, and the sun reflected it like a halo. Somewhat of a ruddy complexion, broad face, a good nose, tanned skin as if he spent most of his days under the sun. His eyes were kaleidoscope in nature, shifting between black and grey and mixture of the earth, sea, and sky in-between.

A smile graced his face making him impossibly more attractive as his gaze pierced Octavian's soul. "Hello, my child."

Octavian lowered himself into a bow once more. Feet appeared in his vision, before fingers were carting themselves through his hair gently. "Rise, little one. There is no need to kneel for me. We are family, yes." Octavian couldn't find his voice, so he only nodded his head. The god laughed in amusement as he pulled him to his feet. "I suppose you already know who I am, but if not... I am Aineíās, progenitor of Roma and the begotten son of Venus Genetrix."

"Well met," Octavian croaked. He could understand old christian saints who were blinded by Yehoshua's presence. One of his curls fell into his eyes and his hand twitched with the need to brush it away. The god smiled, waving his hand towards the steps for them to sit.

"I hope that I am not taking up much of your time," the god continued. Octavian quickly shook his head. "No, mi'lord. Tis fine. Um, I would like to thank you for um... telling Rue about the snow owl's heart so thicken the texture of my paste. It was very helpful."

The god waved his words away. "Of course. You are family."

"If it's not too much to ask, mi'lord," Octavian stated. "The Vestālēs said that you were awaiting me and Drew said that Mother Ariadnê gave her the message to tell me that you will find me here."

"Ariadnê," the god murmured reverently. "You know, I try not to speak her name considering Ariádnē, wife of Dionysos, resides in heaven. You know her as Areatha." His eyes gained a distant look. "But my sister, your foremother, she was my best friend. She was what you all called a tom-boy, but she was easily the most beautiful person in the world and I mean more than Helénē in my own personal opinion. There were certain days of the year where her hair glistened as if the Hesperides had placed the sunset within the strands. Her eyes would sparkle as like the stars in the night sky. And for someone that was usually under lock and key, she had the most beautiful, tanned skin which we all accounted for the fact that Apóllōn embraced her every night. She was the closest thing to perfection, and I should know. My Mother is after all the embodiment of beauty itself. Still, my sister was the wittiest person that I ever had the pleasure to know. In fact, before your Family destroyed all traces of her presence, she had been regarded as one of the most cleverest mortals to ever live."

"Really," Octavian said. Even though his Family carefully preserved all of their history, anything about their Foremother had been destroyed to maintain the mystery around her.

"Oh, yes. While she had not been raised in warfare, she was skilled strategist. Twas a skilled that was only exemplified when she became a priestess to Apóllōn and showcase revealed her talent as a seer. Following her plans alongside the support of the gods is what kept the war going for those nine years though I doubt any of the others knew it. Hektōr and I took great care to protect her and she found it amusing considering she could handle herself."

"Why did my ancestors destroy any knowledge of her? I think that's something that a lot of people would have benefitted from."

"Well, a lot of them were misogynic males who thought that a woman's worth was only good for the household and being a breeding mule. There was also the fact that she never married instead dedicated her love and devotion to Apóllōn and Apóllōn only. None, not even other gods, could compare to him in her eyes and that lowered her worth to your ancestors also. And lastly, she was heavy with child when we escape Troy. Some believed it was better to leave her in obscurity than to think that a woman could have survived the travel while with child."

"Lady Lētṓ was in labor, chased across the lands and unable to rest for just the slightest relief to give birth to Lady Artemis and Lord Apóllōn. If that is not an inspiring tale of womanly endurance, goddess or not, than I don't know what is."

"And I agree with you," Aineíās said. "Tis only what I can infer. But back to my sister, yes she was very clever and very shrewd for a woman. She had once gone undercover in one of their camps as a prisoner of war and then poisoned every soldier before escaping back to Troy. Nowadays, people speak of Palamedes and Odyseús as being two of the smartest men in their age. In fact, Palamedes outsmarted Odyseús during the Trojan War where the latter tried to plead madness to get out of his summons, but Palamedes saw through his charade and placed his son in front of a plow pulled by a donkey and an ox that caused it pull chaotically. Odyseús stopped working and revealed his sanity. My sister enjoyed that tale very much and regular sent paintings to Ithakē of an ox and donkey in the aftermath. Odyseús never forgave Palamedes for ruining his attempt to stay out of the Trojan War. When Palamedes advised the Achaeans to return home, Odyseús hid gold in his tent and wrote a fake letter purportedly from Príamos. The letter was found, and the Achaeans accused him of being a traitor. Palamedes was stoned to death by the Achaeans. And despite the fact that Palamedes was our enemy and she despise him too, she still held a private service for him when word reached Troy of his death. Following their deaths, it left only she and Diomēdēs as the two most clever mortals to live."

"I am proud to be of her lineage and hope that I have lived a life worthy of her glory."

"She would have loved you," Aineíās swore. Octavian flushed, looking away at those words. "I had wanted to raise her to godhood with me, but she refused, wishing to await her descendants and the gods agreed that she must remain in Elysian. Some had wanted to gift her away in a posthumous marriage, but even in death, she refused to love any that was not Apóllōn."

He wondered how Perseus would react to that, knowing that someone loved his boyfriend so much that not even death could tame her heart.

"Alas, my sister, though one of my favored people, is not why I awaited you here," Aineíās sighed. He turned to look at the teen. "Let's talk about curses. Though this one would deal with another sister. As you can rightly assume, we are in the temple that belongs to my maternal sister, Concordia, but when I was a mortal, she was known as Harmonia. Do you know her story?"

"She married Cadmus of Thebes and got a cursed necklace on her wedding day from Lord Hḗphaistos."

"Mm. Yes," Aineíās said. "The necklace. The most dangerous piece of jewelry in history. The story of this necklace begins with a bit of divine drama. Get comfortable. Tis a long one." The god stretched his legs out, twirling pearls between his fingers. "It all started when Queen Hḗrē was very angry and quarrelled with Father Ζεύς. And because of this strife she bare without union with Ζεύς, Hḗphaistos, who excelled all the sons of Heaven in crafts. But Ζεύς lay with Mêtis and from this union Athênê was born. Of course, Father Ζεύς swallowed Mêtis and then he birthed Athênê. While she technically does have a mother, she was regard to have been a parthenogenesis birth. It was Hḗphaistos that helped free Athênê from Ζεύς' head."

Octavian knew of this somewhat from the various myths that had been recorded and piece together. The best understanding of the myths though were those who combined them into something sensible considering that most places in Ancient Greece had their own records that while incredibly similar had minor differences.

"Of course, after that moment, Queen Hḗrē had been infuriated once more and prayed to Gaia to give her a son as strong as Ζεύς," the god continued. "Gaia, angry at the destruction of the Giants, slanders Ζεύς to Hḗrē riling her up even more. So Hḗrē goes to Kronos, slapping the ground to get his and Gaia's attention. Kronos gives her two eggs smeared with his own semen, telling her to bury them, and that from them would be born one who would overthrow Ζεύς. Hḗrē, angry at Ζεύς, buries the eggs in Cilicia. When Typhōeús is born, Hḗrē gave the infant Typhōeús to the drakaina, Delphyne, who you mortals tend to call Python and change her gender, to raise, and Typhōeús grew up to become a great bane to mortals. And Apollôn then goes on to slay Delphyne but an entirely different story. To the main point, Hḗphaistos, despite being there for the birth of Athênê, did not live on Olympos. He lived in the sea being reared by Thetis and Eurynome. He lived with them for almost a decade, about nine years, where he worked as a smith."

"The number of completion," Octavian noted. "The Styx was said to wrap around the Underworld nine times. And for breaking an oath on her waters, the god falls into a coma for about a year where no nectar or ambrosia to help them. Then for the next nine years, they're cut off from the gods, have nothing to do with their counsels or their festivals until the tenth year when they return back to Olympos and mingle with the other gods."

"You've done your homework," Aineíās notes approvingly. "Yes, that is all true. And in a similar way, Hḗphaistos was cut off from the gods for nine years, stewing in his rage and during the tenth, he sent gifts up to Olympos. Beautiful thrones all finely made as his stature. And for Queen Hḗrē, she was gifted a golden throne so wonderous that it was no surprise she took a seat immediately. Twas probably one of the first instances of the saying Non omne quod nitet aurum est."

"All that glitters is not gold."

"Exactly," he said, pleased. "It's a wonder how another golden object that deals with Queen Hḗrē and Mother can also be applied to that saying. But anyhow, When Hḗrē sat down she was held fast by invisible fetters, and Hḗphaistos refused to listen to any other of the gods as they begged Hḗphaistos to return to Olympus to let her go, but he refused, saying 'I have no mother '."

Octavian winced. Saying something like that would have hurt his Mother's feelings, but he knew that Livia probably would have approved of it regards to her egg donor.

"Ζεύς petitioned the gods to help free Hḗrē from her predicament, offering the goddess Aphrodítē in marriage to whomsoever could bring Hḗphaistos to Olympos. Poseidón had tried to get him to offer Athênê considering the two were hostile to each other, but Mother had already agreed to this arrangement in the belief that her beloved Arês would prevail. It was Arês who undertook the task of fetching Hḗphaistos at first, but he was threatened by the fire god with torches. At last, Dionysos, the god of wine, fetched him, intoxicated him with wine, and lead the subdued smith back to Olympus on the back of a mule accompanied by revelers. Now some would say that Dionysos won the challenge, but Hḗphaistos returned to Olympos and freed Hêrê all on his own and was thus granted Mother's hand in marriage."

"I'm a little confused. Did Hḗphaistos leave Olympos again and Dionysos brought him back another time? I thought Hḗphaistos married Aphrodítē and she had affair with Arês that led to the birth of Harmonia who was Dionysos' grandmother?"

"Ah, I am getting to that part," Aineíās said. "Now where was I? Oh, yes. Hḗphaistos did not love Mother the same way Arês did. He loved her, but he was not in love with her just as Mother loved him, but she wasn't in love with him. She was stuck in an unhappy marriage, and they both tried to make it work but it just didn't. He forged her beautiful jewelry, including a strophion, a saltire-shaped undergarment which accentuated her breasts and made her even more irresistible to men. She continued on her affair with Arês where Lord Hêlios caught them together and Hḗphaistos caught them within a net. It was from this union that Harmonia was born."

The sun seemed glimmered gracefully over the temple, and with his double sight, it looked even better in its prime.

"Because Harmonia was conceived during Aphrodítē's marriage to Hḗphaistos," the god continued. "Hḗphaistos gifted her with a finely worked necklace bequeath with the finest of jewels on her wedding day. The necklace offered eternal youth and beauty to the wearer, but this necklace had a secret since in his revenge against Mother and Arês, he placed a curse on the necklace that brought immense suffering to her descendants. You'll find that Perseus' has a few siblings under the sea that are currently chasing after its remnants."

He wondered if Livia knew these mysterious siblings.

"The curse started with Harmonia. First, she passed the necklace down to Semelê, although youngest of her daughters, she alone was given by nature the prerogative of unconquerable beauty. As you may know, Dionysos is a god reborn and as such worshipped as twice born and on the occasion thrice-born. In his first life, he was a son of Ζεύς and Persephónē named Zagreus though many believe that it was actually Dēmḗtēr in whom which was his Mother. And now I hear whispers that many believe that Semelê was an aspect of one of the goddesses though many would say she would be an aspect of Persephónē from her previous name Kore as Persephónē is a goddess of the earth and Semelê's name meaning 'earth' and relates it with Thracian Zemele, 'mother earth'. I am getting off topic."

He waved his hand about as if to rid the words he had spoke.

"Semelê was killed in the face of Father Ζεύς glory for no mortal could bare to look upon the gods without incinerating, and she perished, consumed in a lightning-ignited flame. I fear this is where the confusion comes as Zagreus died as an infant and was reborn where in this case, the earth-born tore him apart and boiled by the earth-born, Dēmḗtēr gathered together his remains, allowing his rebirth. Here, he is named Sabázios reared by Mothers Kybêlê and Rheia. And that is who lead Hḗphaistos to the heavens and he dies once more in a similar fashion where Ζεύς saved his heart and through Semelê was he reborn once more. After the death of Semelê, the necklace was inherited by Inô. After Queen Hḗrē found that Inô and her husband raised Dionysos for a time, she drove Athámas mad, and he killed Learchus. Inô was able to escape with Melikértēs and they leapt into the sea where they were transformed into gods now known as Leukothéa and Palaimon. The necklace was then gifted to Agaúē, another one of the sisters, who alongside her last sister Autonoë and her son Pentheús refused to recognize Dionysos' divinity and did not grant him the proper worship as a god of great stature. They were then killed by the god. The disrespect may have been able to be excused. Maybe, but I fear that Dionysos was more enraged by the fact that his aunts spread the rumor that Semelê endeavored to conceal unmarried sex with a mortal man, by pretending that Ζεύς was the father of her child and said that her destruction... her death was a just punishment for her falsehood. Harmonia came back into possession of the necklace and then she herself fell victim to it when she pleaded with the elder gods to be transformed to a serpent alongside her Husband. The two now resided within the Eleusinian fields though Harmonia does leave on occasion to visit Mother and her children. The necklaces then made his way further down to Iokástē and Oedipus and well you know their story."

Who didn't? There was an entire complex named after him even if Freud was wrong in his findings. Octavian certainly never wanted to sleep with Aelia Verus, and he knew that Augustus didn't want to have sex with Aunt Prudence either.

"Polyneíkes then received it who gifted it to Eriphȳla to persuade her husband Amphiaraus to join the expedition of the Seven against Thebes where he perished and then she found her end at the hands of her own son, Alkmaíōn one of the Epigoni. The same Epigoni that Diomēdēs, son of Tūdeus was apart of. Through Alkmaíōn, the necklace came into the hands of his wife, Arsinoe, next into the hands of her brothers, Phegeus, Pronous and Agēnor, and lastly into those of the sons of Alkmaíōn, Amphoterus and Acarnan of his second wife, daughter of Akhelôios, who dedicated it in the temple of Athênê Pronoea at Delphi. The necklace had wrought mischief to all who had been in possession of it, and it continued to do so even after it was dedicated at Delphi. Phayllus, the tyrant, stole it from the temple to gratify his mistress, the wife of Ariston. She wore it for a time, but at last her youngest son was seized with madness, and set fire to the house, in which she perished with all her treasures."

Akhelôios who was now hornless after trying to force Drew to marry him. Octavian highly doubted that he'd be willing to help any of them.

The god turned to look at him, brushing a few blond strands away from his face. "I say all this to tell you, young one that god's anger is deadly thing. It can kill generations and that is something you know intimately. Even after Harmonia left the mortal plane and ventured to the Underworld, Hḗphaistos' anger continued to affect those that came after her. Look at Dionysos who was plagued by madness throughout his life, chased to the end by Queen Hḗrē until he ascended to godhood. He whose genealogy was filled with the divinity, tracing it back thrice-over to Father Ζεύς without even accounting for his rebirths. You have a lot of gods in your lineage, child even moreso than child of Mārs who descends from Poseidón. Ζεύς is the father of Dardanos who was the progenitor of dardanii and trojans. Êlektrê, the Pleiad, was his mother. Dardanos was also the foster brother of Harmonia as Lady Êlektrê reared her. And thus, my Father, Ankhísēs, descends from the line of Ζεύς. My sister, Ariadnê, was born to Lady Kymopoleia whom was a daughter of Poseidón and Amphitrítē, the nereid daughter of The Old Man of the Sea, Nêreus who is a famed seer. and I, of course, am the son of Her Lady Aphrodítē, the adopted daughter of Diônê of the Dodona oracle. Lord Apollôn started your line with my sister and my lineage joined with hers in the descendants that followed. Down to the kingdom, Mārs fathered Romulus and Remus. And even further down to your namesake who was a son of Apollō. You are a child born with a glorious purpose." He tilted Octavian's face to gaze at him directly in the eye. "Is there anyone other mortal that represents the foundation of two powerful heritages than thee? Is there any that could heal this rift between it? The child of Diomēdēs that walks the path of wisdom may not have your lineage, but she is to you whom Odyseús was to Palamedes; who Hektōr was to Ahkilles; who I was to Diomēdēs. She is your greatest foe, but mayhaps you can be different than us all rid our families of the hatred that they bore when Aléxandros forsake the rules of xenia and stole away the wife of a master spearman."

"That's a lot of pressure," Octavian murmured. "Things would be simpler if I just destroy the statue."

"Athênê would punish you," Aineíās chastised. "And mortals have been turned immortal for less to forever live out their crimes. You must find another way. Something different, but first, before you continue on your quest, I leave you with a gift. It may not be a necklace, but what of a robe? This is the robe presented to Harmonia by Kádmos given to him by Hḗphaistos and Hḗrē. The robe was dipped in crime and also played a part in the ill fate to the descendants of my sister. At the end of your journey, you will find need of it, I assure you."

It was a beautiful robe. Pastel blue and creamed threads woven so intricately together with subtle touches of gold and blush to create images of rose petals either flying through the wind or floating elegantly across the waters. He could understand why it was sought after even if to a lesser extent than the necklace. "I take my leave now, child." the god said, as he stood to his feet and began to gleam a gentle glow. Octavian cast his eyes away. "And I impart one last word of advice, take heed of Aesop's words for it is true that everything that glitters is not gold. lux aeterna, Octavius."

And in the silence that followed, Octavian whispered, "Ad infinitum, Aeneas Indiges."

---

When Octavian made his way back to the Atrium Vestae, the others were gone and the Vestālēs were once more just statues. He didn't know where to go from there. Livia hadn't showed back up. Wasn't she supposed to be his guide?

His vision doubled once more, and a light began to shine out of his peripheral. He turned, noting that it was the Aedes Vestae. He paused as entry to the temple was permitted only to the Vestālēs, and to no man at all, but it was calling to him and demanding his presence.

He hesitated for a second before making his way into the temple, smiling lightly at each lamp that lit with every step he took. He paused on the top steps and the door did not open so he stayed where he was. He knelt at the doors, inwardly sobbing as the warmth of hearth reached out to him and greeted him like an old friend. He could almost see the Family Hearth that resided in his Grandparents' home; see the way that they huddled around it, singing songs or reciting hymns despite the thoughts that the imperial romans thought of it. He remembered the snowball fights and making snow angels and snowmen then venturing over to the hearth and feel as the warmth sank into his bones. He remembered how the flames made his Mother seem younger than ever.

"Goddess, as men are not allowed to see or know you, it is thus necessary that I speak to you."

Fingers brushed against his hair and when he glanced upwards, a woman wearing a modest, full-coverage dress sat before him using a clearly beloved torch to tend to the flames. "Hello, child," she murmured. "I am Vesta. Goddess of the Hearth, Home, and Family. I bring forth the ignes aeternum. I am Vesta, the Phallic Mother. A Goddess of Every Aspect of Domestic Life and A Goddess of Marriage and Motherhood. I am the purest of the Dii Consentes. I am the Patron of Bakers and Millers. Explain to me, why have you come here, child of Roma?"

"My Family, mi'lady. We're facing the effects of a curse through no fault of our own."

"Is it not," Vesta questioned rhetorically. "Did your ancestors... your Family not enter the city of Athênai, kill several guards and and one or more priests of Athênê's temple and stole the Palladium with their bloodstained hands. You said it yourself the gods were very angry over the destruction of their temples and other sacrilegious acts by the Achaeans, so tell me how do you think Athênê would have felt for it to happen once more? For the Romans who would go on to loot her city, steal away her best friend and steal her. Returning to Roma, where they stripped her of her might to bring her down."

Octavian shook his head. "While that is true. mi'lady, they loved her also. As the most important Roman goddess, she is highly revered, honored, and respected. Marcus Terentius Varro considered her to be ideal and the plan for the universe personified."

"But she would never be Athênê in your eyes," Vesta admonished. "Your ancestors could not see her as both. In fact, she did not return to being a goddess of war and until she was Hellenized in the fourth and third centuries BCE."

"And I have to pay for their actions," he sighed. "To prove that I am either like them or better for bad blood always shows."

"Precisely," Vesta smiled. "I know Aeneas told you the story of Harmonia but let me be the one to tell you about the House of Atreus."

"That's the house that Menelaos and Agamémnōn descend from."

The goddess nodded her head, "A cursed line. One that started with their Forefather, Tántalos. He was a son of Ζεύς. A favored amongst the gods until he decided to abuse Ζεύς' hospitality and stolen ambrosia and nectar to bring it back to his people in an attempt to reveal the secrets of the gods. Ζεύς was content to leave it with him banished from the halls of Olympos yet the mortal made it worse for himself."

"He slayed his son and tried to feed him to the gods."

"Yes, little Pélops had been served to us," she said as her form flickered to one of a child. "We knew immediately what had happened the moment we sat down to dine with him. We were appalled and did not partake in it, all of us except Dēmḗtēr, who was distracted due to the abduction by Háidēs of her daughter Persephónē, obliviously ate Pélops's shoulder. The gods threw Tántalos into the underworld to spend eternity standing in a pool of water beneath a fruit tree with low branches. Klôthô, one of the Moirai, was ordered by Ζεύς to bring Pélops back to life, replacing the bone in his shoulder with a bit of ivory with the help of Hḗphaistos, thus marking the family forever afterwards. And well any child or legacy of Apóllōn knows the story of Niobe and her children."

Octavian felt his lips curl in disgust. He hated it mainly because of the similarities. He hated how her children had to suffer for her arrogance though when he stopped the comparisons, he would be the first to admit that she got what she deserved. Oh wow, she gave birth to fourteen children in her nice and safe palace while Mother Lētṓ was hunted down her entire pregnancy and wasn't there rumors that she gave birth prematurely from the stress? Wooow, how deserving she is to be worshiped while also insulting the gods. Please. Octavian felt more sympathy for her Husband than anything he could feel for her. Hmp. Now that he thought about it, she was a Queen of Thêbai before Iokástē. Maybe the Curse of the Necklace and the Curse of her Family just doubled up on her.

Gods above, don't make him have sympathy for her.

"Pélops would go on to marry Hippodamia after winning a chariot race against her father, King Oἱnómaos, by arranging for the sabotage of his would-be-father-in-law's chariot which resulted in his death. The sabotage was arranged by Myrtilus, a servant of the king who was killed by Pélops for attempting to rape Hippodamia after Pélops retracted his promise that Mrytilus would be the one to take her virginity. As Myrtilus died, he cursed Pélops and his line, further adding to the house's curse."

Octavian stared blankly. He was so glad that women's rights had come so far from those days. Of course, they could be better, but he knew how Livia and Annia would have reacted if people were treating their virginity like business transactions.

The goddess laughed at his expression, nodding her head in agreement to his unspoken words.

"Pélops and Hippodamia had many sons; two of them were Atreus and Thyestes. They murdered their half-brother Khrýsippos, since out of all his children Pélops loved Khrýsippos best. Khrýsippos, himself, was not spared from the curse either." She gave him a pitying look and he found himself bristling. He was not something to be pitied. He survived. And he'd do it all again for his Family. "Khrýsippos was kidnapped by the Theban prince Laius, his tutor, who was escorting him to the Nemean Games, where the boy planned to compete. Instead, Laius carried him off to Thêbai and raped him, a crime for which he, his city, and his family were later punished by the gods. In fury, Pélops cursed Laius to be killed by one of his own children after the return of his son. Something that was confirmed as Laius received an oracle from Delphi which told him that he must not have a child, or the child would kill him and marry his wife and that he could save the city only if he died childless. One night, however, Laius was drunk and fathered Oedipus with Iokástē. And you know how that story ends."

Octavian wondered if the fact that the rest of that family line was met with so much death because Laius violated the laws of hospitality and marriage by carrying off his host's son and raping him, or because he ignored the Oracle's warning not to have children. The Necklace of Harmonia probably didn't make it any better so in a way Thêbai was doomed from the moment Kádmos killed the serpent of Arês and married Harmonia who was the daughter of Arês and Aphrodítē who was cursed by Hḗphaistos.

"Because of Khrýsippos' murder, Atreus, and Thyestes were banished. They took refuge in Mykē̂nai, where they ascended the throne upon the absence of King Eurystheus, who was fighting the Heracleidae. Eurystheus had meant for their lordship to be temporary; it became permanent because of his death in conflict. The issue then came from them both wanting the throne but were unwilling to share. Atreus vowed to sacrifice his best lamb to Artemis. Upon searching his flock, however, Atreus discovered a golden lamb which he gave to his wife, Aerope, to hide from the goddess. She gave it to Thyestes, her lover and Atreus' brother, who then persuaded Atreus to agree that whoever had the lamb should be king. Thyestes produced the lamb and claimed the throne."

Octavian raised a brow. He tried to hide an animal from the goddess of the hunt, the wilderness, and wild animals.

"Atreus, however, retook the throne using advice he received from Ζεύς, who sent Hermês to him, advising him to make Thyestes agree that if the sun rose in the west and set in the east, the throne of the kingdom should be given back to Atreus. Thyestes agreed, but then Hêlios did exactly that, rising where he usually set and setting where he usually rose, not standing the injustice of Thyestes' usurpation. The people then bowed to the man who had managed to reverse the circuit of the Sun. Atreus then learned of Thyestes' and Aerope's adultery and plotted revenge. He killed Thyestes' sons and cooked them, save their hands and feet. He tricked Thyestes into eating the flesh of his own sons and then taunted him with their hands and feet. Thyestes was forced into exile for eating the flesh of a human. Thyestes responded by asking an oracle what to do, who advised him to have a son by his daughter, Pelopia, who would then kill Atreus. However, when Aegisthus was first born, he was abandoned by his mother, who was ashamed of the incestuous act. A shepherd found the infant Aegisthus and gave him to Atreus, who raised him as his own son. Only as he entered adulthood did Thyestes reveal the truth to Aegisthus, that he was both father and grandfather to the boy. Aegisthus then killed Atreus, although not before Atreus and Aerope had had two sons, Agamémnōn and Menelaus, and a daughter Anaxibia. Agamémnōn married Klytaimnḗstrā, and Menelaus married Helénē. Helénē was later kidnapped by Paris of Troy, and Menelaus called on all of his wife's former suitors to help him take her back."

When they were younger, Octavian, his cousins, and sister used to make note of just about everything that was involved in the fate of Troy and how they could have prevented it. This was an angle that he never considered, but man did it put things into perspective. It's like no matter how they looked at it… the Fate of Troy had been planned generations before any of the players were on the board.

"Prior to sailing off to war against Troy, Agamémnōn had angered Artemis because he had killed a sacred deer in a sacred grove and had then boasted that he was a better hunter than she was. When the time came, Artemis stilled the winds so that Agamémnōn's fleet could not sail. A prophet named Kalkhas told him that in order to appease Artemis, Agamémnōn would have to sacrifice the most precious thing that had come to his possession in the year he killed the sacred deer. This was his first-born daughter, Iphigéneia. He sent word home for her to come under the pretense that she was to be married to Akhilles. Iphigéneia accepted her father's choice and was honored to be a part of the war. Klytaimnḗstrā tried to stop Iphigéneia but was sent away. After doing the deed, Agamémnōn's fleet was able to get under way."

Unfortunately, he knew exactly how Livia would have grown up to be like in comparison to that. She was desperate for Neptūnus' approval even then and would have done the same as Iphigéneia if it meant acknowledgement from the god.

"While he was fighting the Trojans, his wife Klytaimnḗstrā, enraged by the murder of her daughter, began an affair with Aegisthus. Of course, Nauplius the Wrecker had a hand in this also as his son, Palamedes, fought in the Trojan War, but was killed by his fellow Achaeans, as a result of Odysseus' treachery. Nauplius went to Troy to demand justice for the death of his son but met with no success. Consequently, Nauplius sought revenge against King Agamémnōn and the other Argive leaders. Nauplius also somehow induced the wives of three of the Greek commanders to be unfaithful to their husbands: Klytaimnḗstrā with Aegisthus, Diomēdēs' wife Aegiale with Cometes, and Idomeneus' wife Meda with Leucos though in Aegiale's case she was also influenced by Aphrodítē for the wound that her Husband gave her. Nauplius also convinced Odyseús' mother Anticleia that her son was dead, whereupon she hanged herself."

Octavian stared with wide eyes and every moment that Livia stated that he was one of her favorite ancient greek heroes flashed through his mind.

The goddess was not finished.

"When Agamémnōn returned home he brought with him a new concubine, the doomed prophetess, Kassandra. Upon his arrival that evening, before the great banquet she had prepared, Klytaimnḗstrā drew a bath for him and when he came out of the bath, she put the royal purple robe on him which had no opening for his head. He was confused and tangled up. Klytaimnḗstrā then stabbed him to death. Agamémnōn's only son, Orestes, was quite young when his mother killed his father. He was sent into exile by Klytaimnḗstrā to avoid having him present during the murder of Agamémnōn as he was the legitimate heir apparent and as such a potential danger to his usurper uncle. Goaded by his sister Ēléktrā, Orestes swore revenge. He knew it was his duty to avenge his father's death but saw also that in doing so he would have to kill his mother. He was torn between avenging his father and sparing his mother. 'It was a son's duty to kill his father's murderers, a duty that came before all others. But a son who killed his mother was abhorrent to gods and to men '."

The look that she gave him was quite significant. It was his duty to avenge the death of his Father and Family. A duty that came before his pandering of Livia.

"When Orestes prayed to Apóllōn, the god advised him to kill his mother. Orestes realized that he must work out the curse on his house, exact vengeance and pay with his own ruin. After Orestes murdered Klytaimnḗstrā and her lover Aegisthus, he wandered the land with guilt in his heart. After many years, with Apóllōn by his side, he pleaded to Athênê. No descendant of Atreus had ever done so noble an act and 'neither he nor any descendant of his would ever again be driven into evil by the irresistible power of the past.' Thus, Orestes ended the curse of the House of Atreus."

Octavian stared. Yeah, no. Fuck that. He was not praying to the same person that cursed them. Please. He'd rather die than run to her for comfort.

"You must understand what your own noble act shall be for the House of Verus." the goddess stated, turning back to her flames. "You must find your way. But first, before you continue on your quest, I leave you with a gift. At the end of your journey, you will find need of it, I assure you." She reached into the fire and pulled away a small flame. It was warm without burning as it traveled alongside his arms, dancing across his skin before centering itself around his Mother's necklace.

"I must take my leave now, child," the goddess stated, as she began to gleam a gentle glow. The flames of her hearth reached out to her as if awaiting a hug. Octavian cast his eyes away. "And I impart one last word of advice, one that your friend Perseus knows very well. Hope survives best at the Hearth. lux aeterna, Octavius."

And in the silence that followed, Octavian whispered, "Ad infinitum, Vesta Polyolbos."

Octavian stood and turned to leave. By now, the sun was low on the horizon and the Forum had closed long ago. He made his way out of it, hoping to find either Livia to finish this stupid quest or just go back to the ship to await his death while Annabeth found glory.

It's when he passed the Aedes Divi Iuli that he sees him. A tall man of stature with a fair complexion, shapely limbs, a somewhat full face, and keen black eyes. Octavian didn't need his gift of sight to know who this was. He didn't need the image of a comet, bright enough to be visible in daylight, to know this was Iulius Caesar. The man says nothing, just stared at him as if he was looking into his soul. Octavian walked around him.

"Careful, son of Troia," the man muttered as he passed him. "It is more shameful to distrust our friends than to be deceived by them. But take it from me, betrayal never comes from your enemies." Octavian turned to look at him finding the man staring back with those same unnerving eyes. "Take the old roads," he says. "It's like a labyrinth and it's not a friend to foes of the sea."

"Take it from us," another voice said. Octavian turned, voice catching in his throat because this one… this one reminded him very much of Jason and Lina. His canines were inhumanly sharp and there was a wild look to his eyes; one filled the type of the intelligence of how to rip a throat out easily. "I am Remus. Come, son of Troia. Your… sister awaits."

"I… what?"

One of the most infamous men in the history of Ancient Roma was standing before him. He could be forgiven for his shock. Remus was more than Iulius if you let Octavian tell it — though that may be because he liked to compare the story of Remus and Romulus to Livia and well it was her Mother but now Perseus fits the bill.

"My Mother and Stepfather have already helped the child of Wisdom," Remus stated, waving his hand and a screen of smoke appeared.

It was an image from what looked to be earlier in the day where Annabeth was riding on the back of a bike with two people.

The man had chin length brown hair dressed in a long brown trench coat and it took Octavian a split second to realize that he looked like Gambit from the X-Men. The woman looked about twenty-one, sunset curls falling about her head with a pair of skunk bangs that fell elegantly around her face. Like him, she looked annoyingly like Rogue from the X-Men and he realized that Livia's obsession with superheroes transferred to him.

"Tiberinus is ever so helpful. He saved my brother, Romulus, and I and took us to the wolf goddess Lupa." The man said. "And later when one king or another tried to kill Mother, Tiberinus took pity on her and made her his wife. She's been ruling the river kingdom at his side ever since though she tends to help Anio, another river god out sometimes when she gets bored. And Tiberinus helps the children of Wisdom begin their journey safely. Our Family line however made sure that they all died painfully later on."

He smiled, and his fangs glinted under the setting sun. "Come now, Octavius. We must find your sister. The Curse of Athênê awaits! Will you be the one to restore greatness to Roma or will you allow another Achaean to steal glory from another Trojan?"

---

Octavian didn't really want to follow the wolf man down into the catacombs of Roma.

And Octavian may have been going blind (a fact that he was deliberately hiding from Pranjal and the others), but he wasn't stupid. He knew what Julius and Remus were implying about "betrayal never comes from your enemies" and "it's not a friend to foes of the sea". It certainly didn't help that Livia hadn't appeared except for small flashes.

"So why are you here?" Octavian asked the son of Lupa. He reminded him so much of Jason. It was mainly in the way that they carried themselves. They were truly Lupa's sons regardless of who birthed them or, well, raised them in Jason's case. "I would've thought that you moved on."

"Truthfully, I almost did," he shrugged. "Historians don't know it, but my brother did perform funeral rites once he learned of my murder. And while he didn't outright avenge my death, well... we are wolves. We show our dominance to our enemies. He needs not to be so aggressive when he can just make their lives harder. They came to him begging for forgiveness. He made them build a city five miles from Roma and name it Remuria." He laughed, a sort of throaty kind of laugh like dogs do. "But I never left because well... you've seen Roma. This city is eternal and will outlive even the people that live here. I have seen it grow from a Kingdom to an Empire to the heart of the Western Civilization and now I want to see it to the end. The day this city dies will be the day that I accept the hands of Mors and Mercurius and be led to the kingdom of Pluto."

They came to a stop in front of a door that Octavian wouldn't touch even with gloves on.

"And this is where I leave you," Remus stated. Octavian looked between him and the door. He couldn't be serious. "And a word of advice, Family does not end in blood and even then bonds made of water can drown you." He shook his head, starting to fade away at the edges. "The Tiber reached alive, Apollo must now jive, There are three within, spirits of a thousand years. So long as they live, several oracles shall go dark, and now alone you descend into the heart."

And then, Remus was no more.

Octavian stood there silently for a moment before he finally decided to plunge into the dark corridor. The brick tunnel was long and looked made of ancient marble slabs. With his golden sight, he could view how they looked in the olden days just as easily he could see the way that they had been painted and built over in the modern years.

His steps echoed off the walls and Octavian thought about the curse. He wondered if "The Son of Troy walks alone" meant something different than what he inferred because the loneliness would drive him crazy. It was quiet. Too quiet. He was used to having someone pattering about for his attention, consensually or not, but there was always someone around.

And even still, he was alone.

No family. No real friends... well, Lina, Rue, and Pranjal may disagree with that. No Jason.

Octavian shuddered, continuing on with no real direction.

It was as he was walking through the catacombs with eyes of gleaming gold that it had happened. One moment, he was viewing a sight as if it were the early years of the empire. And like a snap of fingers, he was back witnessing ruins and evidence of a time well passed. Absently, as his prophesied vision faded from his hands, he could hear the sound of scales slithering about.

Something moved behind him and Octavian turned, sword already in hand as it moved with him.

Livia stared back at him, entirely unimpressed and once more in her child form.

"You know better than to sneak up on me," he told her. She had some of the same training after all. She rolled her eyes.

"Get lost," she said. "Bad men want you gone."

"What bad men?"

"Beasts!" She raised her hands in resemblance of claws and then deepened her voice. "Apollo's flesh and blood shall soon be mine. Alone he must descend into the dark." And she gazed at him, with a wide, unnatural grin that unnerved him more than he cared to admit, amusement and malice darkening her eyes. "Life dissolves, leaving not a mark."

Octavian would have crossed himself if he believed in it.

"Don't do that," he said instead, fixing her with the same chastising look their Grandmother had given when the four of them were misbehaving. It worked a lot over the years and the First Cohort was always muttering complaints about how it reminded them of their own parents. And as always, the look struck true, and she crumbled in the face of it. "That's creepy."

He kneeled before her. "Come on, show that pretty smile. How did Mother's song go? Ahh, that's right. Pretty, pretty Livia. Pretty, pretty Livia." A flushed danced on her cheeks as she turned her head in an attempt to hide her smile. "Pretty, pretty Livia." She laughed delightedly, throwing her arms around him as a wide beautiful smile danced along her face. "Come. Let's go stop the bad men and get the statue."

"And avenge our family?"

"And to avenge our family," he assured her. She looked into his eyes, and he wondered what she saw. The hesitance that he felt in regard to those words. The lie he told himself and which lie that it was.

She said nothing though instead, tugging at his hand and leading him through Roma. He followed her, of course he did. She was his sister, and he would follow her to the ends of the earth. No matter what Remus and Caesar thought. Livia wouldn't hurt him.

He kept his eyes on her as they walked. She moved with confidence as if she had walked these pathways the entirety of her short life. And yet, she still behaved much like a kid as she darted to things that caught her insatiable curiosity. She led him to the right, then the left, through a corridor of stainless steel like some kind of air shaft. He was walking through the bare bones of Ancient Roma. He knew some historians that would kill to see these old mosaics and were mourning the fact that they couldn't get to them without damaging the infrastructure that had been built on top of it. The floor beneath them changed from cement to mud to bricks and back again.

And then they came across the first person... or well, first "spirit" though he was looking a bit too solid to be some kind of spirit.

Octavian knew who he was before he even introduced himself.

He looked almost exactly as he did in his dream—young and lithe, handsome enough, though his eyes were too far apart, his ears too prominent, his smile too thin. He looked like a botox gone wrong. He was dressed in white slacks, white boat shoes, a striped blue-and-white shirt, a blue blazer, and a captain's hat. Octavian would say that he reminded him of Popeye, the pugnacious, wisecracking cartoon sailor who possesses superhuman strength after ingesting an always-handy can of spinach, but that would be an insult to the cartoon.

Talk about a ghost of christmas past.

Octavian wasn't sure if his sight was going in and out or he was just lost inside of his head because it felt like he was back in that dream at the party in ancient Roma. And then Octavian remembered how thirsty Caligula was for power and how it drove him mad. He was the first Roman emperor to ever try to become a living god. He wanted to be the center of creation, the new god of the sun. He wanted to supplant Apollo, the way he supplanted Helios. He saw his ancestors immortalized after their deaths: Julius, Augustus, even disgusting old Tiberius. But Caligula didn't want to wait for death. He was the first Roman emperor who wanted to be a living god.

(Caligula also claimed to converse and to enjoy sexual congress with Luna or well, Selene since that's the name he used which Octavian didn't understand how. If he wanted to be the new sun, then that relationship wasn't going to work. Not only would she be infuriated by the acts against her twin brother, but also, no sun and moon goddess of the greco-roman gods ever had a relationship like that.)

Octavian really hoped he got over those delusions of grandeur.

(Octavian was pointedly ignoring the fact that the man was technically related to him, a couple hundred generations removed, but he was in the family tree. It felt sacrilegious to even think about like setting up a big-screen TV on a church altar and having a Super Bowl party with communion wine. Though admittedly, Octavian and his cousins had done that before and were promptly banned from like forty churches in the state of Nevada because of it and like fifty within Arizona though that was because they threw black and red bath bombs into baptism pools.)

Ugh, just thinking about the emperor conjured the darkest, most depraved images. His reign was bloodier and more infamous than Nero's, who had grown up in awe of his wicked great-uncle Gaius Julius Caesar Germanicus. (And that one was an idiot also with his desire to be the New Sun. Octavian had seen the sculptures of both men. Neither of them were attractive enough to be even a minor god!)

Still Caligula's name became a byword for murder, torture, madness, excess. Caligula: the villainous tyrant against whom all other villainous tyrants were measured. Caligula: who had a worse branding problem than the Edsel, the Hindenburg, and the Chicago Black Sox put together. Though, he hated the name. His father's soldiers gave him the nickname when he was a child. Octavian didn't really understand why. It was a sign of affection that the soldiers had for him considering that they gave the name when he was like two or three, accompanying his father on campaigns in the north of Germania, and the child wore a miniature soldier's outfit, including army boots which were called caligae and armour.

What did Remus say? There were spirits of a thousand years within these catacombs.

Octavian remembered how the emperor Caligula had died. He'd been on the verge of leaving Rome, planning to sail to Egypt and make a new capital there, in a land where people understood about living gods. He had meant to make himself a living god: Neos Helios, the New Sun—not just in name, but literally. That's why his praetors were so anxious to kill him on the evening before he left the city. His own guards killed him.

He could almost see it. In the back of his mind, he could see flickers of a dark tunnel packed with praetorian guards, crowding around the emperor, their knives flashing and glistening with blood.

But with the Doors of Death opened, Gaea just let one of the few within enough insanity to actually try and probably succeed in doing so if the giants actually win.

If he wanted to become the new god of the sun, he would have to destroy Phoebus which the giants were attempting, then destroy Helios who Octavian knew was still alive; one cannot kill a god, and quite possibly have to go further and destroy Hyperion down in Tartarus depending on how far he wanted to go. It didn't help that the emperors of Rome had made themselves semi divine simply by instituting worship among the populace. Over the centuries, several mortals had made themselves gods, or were promoted to godhood by the Olympians. It would take a lot of power to do that, but if the gods wouldn't come down from the heavens and were soon to be destroyed, he would have to take power from elsewhere and... and what better way than to go get the blood and essence of the entire Western Civilization that dated all the way back to the days of Ancient Greece and trapped in one very handsome boy that was walking all alone with no backup but the phantom form of his sister.

His sister that led him directly to him.

What did that damnable bird say?

Friend or foe risen from the sea you must face.

He sincerely hoped that Livia was his friend, but Remus and Caesar's words danced around his head also.

He was strapping on the most gaudiest armor and honestly, the sailor boy outfit was much better than that. Everything was in Imperial gold: greaves, kilts, breastplates, gloves, helmets, all with elaborate gorgon and Fury designs, encrusted with precious gems. It was like looking at Khrysaôr except worse and Octavian did not think that was possible.

"Ahhh, the Son of Troy. Octavius," he said. "I am Gaius Julius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, emperor of Roma and Neo Helios."

"Caligula," Octavian said, tilting his head at him. The emperor's eyes flashed with annoyance. "Well met. How may I be of service?"

Livia skipped past him to lean against the wall.

Caligula's eyes twinkled with a madden formed of happiness. "To be of service... yes, I like those words." He stared at Octavian, a bit of amusement on his face. "I hear that you're on a quest. The Curse of Athênê. Thankfully, I hadn't been the one chosen for it."

Octavian raised a brow. He had been too sick as a boy to even be considered for it. It would have been a waste of time.

"I can get you away from this, of course. Let the statue disappear into the background. The daughter of Athênê won't succeed considering who's waiting on her so there's no need for all of this. Instead, you can join me," the emperor smiled. "I can grant you the abilities of the greatest warriors."

"Why would I do that," Octavian asked amusedly, ignoring his words about Annabeth.

The emperor shrugged with a pleasant smile. "I would have thought that you would seek to rise above your station, of course. Your friend, Dodie, has told us some interesting stories, you know. I feel connected to you. I, too, believe that people should never accept their lot in life if it was given to you unfairly."

Octavian kept quiet. He and Caligula may have believed in that, but it was clear that they had two different mindsets in how to fight against it.

(A bit of similarities also. Octavian wasn't afraid to stain his hands with blood if some asshole was being a bit... difficult.)

"What's the point of this," Octavian asked. "Why are you here?"

"To finish what I started of course," the emperor said, radiating heat. Malevolent heat, as if it had a personality. Fitting. The nickname of the emperor: Neos Helios, the New Sun, Caligula's bid to brand himself as a living god. "Once the giants destroy those upstart gods, I will drag the power of Helios and Apollo from the depths of hell and fully ascend and take on my title as Neo Helios." He spread his hands wide as if he were awaiting applause.

He wasn't going to get it from Octavian. The boy had never felt more offended in his life. This scrawny idiot thought he could be the next sun? Please, if he was the next sun then Octavian was moving to the sea.

"Join me, son of Troy. I can make you the next Caligula."

Never mind. This was more offensive than him trying to replace Apollo.

"Well, Octavius Verus? You have a chance to surrender with honor. Bow to your emperor and join me! You are dutybound to recognize Roman authority, and we are it!"

"We?"

The emperor waved his hand. "My nephew and some idiot that's related to us through a bunch of marriage and adoption." He shook his greasy head. "But that is besides the point, together, we can rebuild the camp and raise your legion to glory! No more hiding. No more cowering behind Terminus's weak boundaries. It is time to be true Romans and conquer the world. Join us. We can bring back the rest of your family and get revenge on those greeks."

Octavian stared at him. He remembered that vision that Livia showed him.

"No," Octavian said, shaking his head. "Enough blood has been shed."

"What," Caligula snapped. He did not look delighted. In fact, he looked downright murderous. His eyes glittered, his mind no doubt racing as he thought over all the angles.

Octavian shrugged. "To kill the greeks would mean you'd have to kill a few of my friends and their family members. I can't let you do that."

"I can kill you right now."

"Really," Octavian said with a fake gasp. "You're challenging me to single combat. A spolia opima. I accept!"

"I didn't agree to that!"

"Of course you did," Octavian smiled, waving a hand at him. From the other side of the room, Livia stood in her teenage form with a raised brow. "You offered the challenge."

"Single combat?" She grinned. "I love this idea! Do it, Lord Helios."

"If I die, then it would be of no importance. You'd be giving Gaea the blood that she needs and you could pull the divine essence from my blood." He paused, leaning in with a musing frown. "You do have a way to get my essence, don't you?"

"Some sorceress from Chicago owes me a favor or two," Caligula said, waving his hand. He frowned. "Spolia opima. It's so primitive. It hasn't been done since the founding of Roma."

The first king, Romulus, had personally defeated an enemy king, Acron, stripping him of his armor and weapons. For centuries after, Roman generals tried to emulate Romulus, going out of their way to find enemy leaders on the battlefield for single combat, so they could claim spolia opima. It was the ultimate display of courage for any true Roman.

He knew that was how Livia had always wanted to go out. A battle for the glory of Roma.

"It's the most honorable way for a leader to win a battle." Octavian nodded. "One that's still practiced within New Roma and within the seas."

Livia's eyes were focused with laser intensity. If the emperor planned to raise her from the dead and gain her loyalty, then he would have to fight. Though of course, if he did fight and managed to kill Octavian and still raised her from the dead then he would have an entirely different problem on his hands.

"So, are we doing this or are you a bit too afraid?"

Caligula's nostrils flared. "I have lived for thousands of years," he said, as if explaining a simple fact to a slow student. "I am a god. I am Neo Helios."

"I really don't give a shit if you were Jesus and the seven dwarves," Octavian sneered. "I worship no other gods other than Dii Consentes. But if we're doing all of this boasting then, fine." He straightened his shoulders and looked the emperor in the eye. "I'm the son of Aelia and Ovidius Verus, grandson of Rosalia and Aquilo Verus. I am the legacy of Phoebus Apollo, son of Jove and Latona, brother of Diana. I am the pontifex maximus of New Roma. I am the Legacy of the Julio-Claudian, the Flavian, and the Nerva–Antonine dynasties. Heir to the throne of the Roman Kingdom, to the throne of Troy and to the throne of Dardanium." He smiled pleasantly at the emperor. "I am not afraid to die. Are you?"

The emperor stayed silent for a count of five.

"Very well." He gave a smile as bright and cold as his jewel collection as he drew his sword. "Shall we?

Octavian reached into his utility belt and pulled out his own sword. Well, it looked more like the hilt to a lightsaber until he flicked it and a thirty-inch blade, double-edged and rounded at the tip appeared in its place. It was a mixture of imperial gold and celestial bronze, fused with the blood of his family and shaped within a flame of greek fire. It was the last thing his Aunt Valorie had ever made even if she hadn't known that the random piece of bronze metal that she had found in a thrift store was celestial bronze.

He and Caligula circled each other, occasionally trading blows, testing each other's defenses. Up close, his armor was even more hideous. The breastplate looked like it had been coated with glue, then rolled through the display cases at Tiffany & Co.

If he stood any chance of winning a death match against Caligula, it wouldn't be on account of superior strength and charming personalities. Octavian was skilled and it served him well to be underestimated so not even the entirety of New Roma knew his skillset, but Octavian had to be smart about this. He didn't know how much of the emperor's words were true if he had somehow achieved it though how Octavian wouldn't know. He most certainly wasn't deified by the senate. But he could also be a soul that escaped through the Doors of Death (and really, they needed to figure out how to close them. There was no telling who would be next.)

He needed some serious, industrial-strength cheating.

Fortunately, Octavian was skilled in that too.

Caligula prowled around him, supremely confident. He wore the same self-satisfied smile he'd had when he had Marcus Philo killed.

Caligula's been alive for thousands of years. He was essentially a minor god, but being a minor anything isn't enough for Caligula. He always dreamed of replacing one of the Olympians. He toyed with the idea of becoming the new Jupiter or Mars. In the end, he set his sights on being Apollo and Helios. (Though, at least it was a bit better than Nero actually declaring himself Apollo.)

Octavian just had to figure out a way to kill him that would destroy any chance of reforming.

The two of them met in a clash of blades.

He cleared his mind, just letting himself be. He ducked under the defense and bounced away from his offense. Octavian was good, but so was Caligula. He supposed that was understandable if he had truly lived for thousands of years. He would have trained with kings and legends and learned all forms of combat that Octavian had probably never seen before.

He felt like he should change the lines of that stupid prophecy. Through mazes dark to land of scorching death where the Son of Troy gives his final breath.

But Octavian would not die here. He had a mission to complete and truthfully, he would be embarrassed to face his Aunt Prudence and tell her that he got beat by such a lame dude.

The two of them continued to exchange blows. Metal upon metal echoing within the empty cavern. The emperor's sword slashed against his wrist and if he hadn't moved it in time, it would have sliced his vein open.

Octavian performed a side-step that Jason had shown him once or twice before and slammed the butt of his sword into the emperor's eye. The two of them fought fiercely. His mind blanked. Minutes, hours, even days faded away as he fought with all his might.

Eventually, Caligula jabbed under Octavian's guard and disarmed him. The sword skittered across the ground too far for him to reach. There was an insane amount of joy in the emperor's eyes as he knocked the boy to the ground. Caligula grinned at the heavens, his wounded eye closed tight, his voice filled with hideous glee. "Are you watching, Apollo? Does your all-seeing eye know what comes next?"

Octavian was overcome with the thought that the sun would look that hideous for the rest of eternity if Caligula became the new solar god. That... no. That couldn't happen. He would not force the world to suffer from such... ugliness was a bit too kind.

His body screamed in protest as he reached into his belt and grabbed the dagger. Caligula didn't even notice. Well, he didn't until Octavian stabbed him in the back of the left knee, then the right before he had even registered the pain. He screamed and toppled forward, spewing Latin obscenities that would have gotten bleached poured down his throat by his Mother.

"You could never be the sun," Octavian told him. "There's nothing sunny about you. You don't have the brilliance or the warmth. You could never have a real friendship with the gods or the mortals on earth. You would take the sun from being the glorious and divine symbol that it is and turn it into a weapon. You couldn't even be a light switch let alone the sun. You are not Neo Helios!"

Caligula snarled in frustration. He drew his dagger, but Octavian had recovered enough strength to stand. He slammed Caligula against the wall and wrapped his good hand around the emperor's throat.

"It's over," Octavian growled before he paused as Caligula buried his dagger in his belly.

"Yes, it is," Caligula croaked. "For you."

Octavian shook his head and squeezed harder, crushing the emperor's throat, making Caligula's face turn a bloated purple. Using his wounded arm, which must have been excruciating, Octavian pulled the sacred flame from within his pouch.

The emperor fought and thrashed, but Octavian had trained with Livia and then Jason and he was drawing on the full strength of his determination to not die by this lame dude. Please, Octavian had standards even for death.

"You will never be a god," Octavian rasped and then he plunged his hand into the emperor's chest.

The fire spontaneously combusted, as if it had been waiting years for this chance. Caligula's eyes widened with panic, perhaps just now beginning to understand. Flames roared around Octavian's body. There was screaming. Lots of it. Some from him. Some from Caligula. And a lot from the people of Roma above them as the flames roared and clawed its way to the surface.

The gates of the heavens flew open, pouring into Octavian like a roaring waterfall. Power sank into his belly, ancient in a way that not even time could touch. A legacy of that surpassed the rise and fall of empires. The touch of a god.

As Octavian became a column of flame, and the emperor Caligula was engulfed into white-hot embers, he felt nothing but pain. Pure pain. And it was an interesting thing. You think you have reached your limit and you can't possibly feel more tortured. Then you discover there is still another level of agony. And another level after that. Caligula shifted in his hold, but Octavian barely paid attention to that, tears drying as fast as he cried them as the boy wanted nothing more than for the pain to stop.

He vaguely remembered wishing that Perseus' felt pain getting his SPQR tattoo. Now, Octavian wished for that instead of going through this.

The emperor's face could barely be seen through the flames, but now it looked like a burnt loaf of tomato bread. It was a little disturbing how it managed to make him look better. His armor half-melted, his skin coated with ash.

Caligula was gone. Octavian could feel it—like the earth heaved a sigh of relief as his consciousness disintegrated in a blast of superheated plasma. He wanted to bang his fist against the ground and ask why Gaea allowed him to live if she didn't want him. Why didn't she drag him back through the Doors of Death or open a pathway directly to Tartara, but the pain was a bit too much and he didn't want to give her ideas for him either.

The heat dissipated slowly. Octavian collapsed, shaking and cold, on the stone floor. The stone tiles disintegrated into dust and rained into the empty pit. Above him, he could hear the sound of emergency vehicles and various voices speaking in different dialects of italian.

Livia was nowhere to be seen.

A glowing face appeared before his own as bright as the sun that was peaking through the cracks.

The face smiled at him. "You were right when you told him that he could never be me. He would never be able to drive the sun chariot as Apóllōn does nor as I do. He did not understand that the fires of the sun do not belong on the earth. They were not meant to destroy the land, but to warm it. I do not understand how he thought he would be able to complete his mission and hold favor with Grandmother. She would have not allowed it."

Octavian shrugged as best as his bruised body allowed. "I don't know either. I know actual people that suffer from megalomania that make better sense than him."

"You are already one day into your quest and you still have ways to go." The face said solemnly. One day. That means the others should have hopefully rescued Nico by that. "Have strength, Son of Troy. Your journey is not finished." A finger pressed against his head and he felt something warm settle over him like a cloak before it faded away.

Octavian laid there for a little while longer before he forced himself to his feet. If he stayed any longer, he would have never moved and the world would be destroyed.

He did a quick stock of his body but truthfully, the only thing he could identify was pain and more pain and oh, look at that even more pain. Still, a third-degree burn was the least painful thing that he carried from that tunnel. His golden eyes focused as much as they could at the piercing blue eyes ahead of him. Octavian staggered through the tunnels, his body sizzling, his hands steaming, every muscle in his body feeling like it had been scored with razorblades.

And yet, The Curse of Athênê burns through Roma.

---

WORD COUNT: 27,249

Words to Know:

1) quindecimviri sacris faciundis - fifteen members of a college with priestly duties.

2) The ordo sacerdotum observed and preserved ritual distinctions between divine and human power.

3) The rex sacrorum was a senatorial priesthood reserved for patricians that were actually chosen by the pontifex maximus.

4) Venus Genetrix - Venus, the progenitor

Roman Gods:

1) Turmś - Tritôn

2) Akmon - Atkis

Things to Know:

1) Although the Delphic monster killed by Apóllōn is usually said to be the male serpent Python, in the Homeric Hymn to Apóllōn, the earliest account of this story, the god kills a nameless she-serpent, subsequently called Delphyne. Honestly, I cannot believe that assholes were misgendering people even back then.

2) Ḗpeiros - a member of the Theban royal family. Dionysos/Bacchus' maternal cousin.

3) Macris - a member of the Theban royal family. Dionysos/Bacchus' maternal cousin.

4) Trapizzino: the iconic Italian pizza pocket and is the Roman street food.

---

Translation:

1) Sutor, ne ultra crepidam - literally means 'Shoemaker, not beyond the shoe', used to warn individuals not to pass judgment beyond their expertise. Latin phrase.

2) Nescit cedere - He does not know how to give up.

3) Frater meus - My Brother

4) sacerdotes - priests

5) Ad infinitum - forevermore

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The Vestals:

1) Gegania

2) Veneneia

3) Canuleia

4) Tarpeia. Daughter of Spurius Tarpeius in the Sabine-Roman war, as a treasonous Vestal Virgin. While her status as virgin is common to most accounts, her status as a vestal was likely the mythographer's invention, to cast her lust, greed and treason in the worst possible light.

5) Claudia, daughter of Appius Claudius Pulcher, consul in 143. During the triumph of her father, she walked beside him to repulse a tribune of the plebs, who were trying to veto his triumph.

6) Fonteia, recorded as a Vestal during the trial of her brother in 69, but she would have begun her service before her father's death in 91

7) Fabia, chief Vestal, half-sister of Terentia (Cicero's first wife). In 73 she was acquitted of incestum with Lucius Sergius Catilina. The case was prosecuted by Cicero.

8) Licinia, a Roman Vestal Virgin. She known in history for the case against her for incest with her cousin Marcus Licinius Crassus, who allegedly attempted to frame her for breaking her vow of chastity in order to acquire her property.

9) Occia, vestal for 57 years between 38 BC and 19 AD

10) Rubria, said by Suetonius to have been raped by Nero.

11) Aquilia Severa, whom Emperor Elagabalus married amid considerable scandal.

12) Coelia Concordia, the last head of the order.

---

Comments from the Author:

1) Some mythographers had attempted to harmonize the various accounts of Dionysos' birth into a single narrative involving not only multiple births, but two or three distinct manifestations of the god on earth throughout history in different lifetimes. The historian Diodorus Siculus said that according to "some writers of myths" there were two gods named Dionysos, an older one, who was the son of Ζεύς and Persephónē, but that the "younger one also inherited the deeds of the older, and so the men of later times, being unaware of the truth and being deceived because of the identity of their names thought there had been but one Dionysos." He also said that Dionysos "was thought to have two forms...the ancient one having a long beard, because all men in early times wore long beards, and the younger one being long-haired, youthful and effeminate and young." And from there, is where this origin story comes from.

2) Anything by Nónnos of Panopolis is to be treated as complete fiction. I'm talking the same way we read PJO kind of fiction. His epic, Dionysiaká, is something of an acquired taste and also plays a big part in the villanization of Hḗrē. He disrespects her so bad and the way he wrote Semelê? Like... the way he wrote her you would think the gods would have struck her down because of her tongue, but according to him, she got passes for it. And also, he wrote that Dionysos and Hḗrē have a daughter together? like how? Hḗrē has never and will never cheat on Ζεύς? Even in the Trojan War, Hermês said bad things happen to those target the brides of Ζεύς and we all know what happened to Ixion for lusting after Hḗrē. Dionysos has a frenemy relationship coming on with his stepmother like most of his half siblings? So, yeah. Nónnos' writing is basically fanfiction that gets treated as fact.

3) Aineías has three different ways to spell his name because I'm fun like that. Also, because one is translated from Ellinika, the other is Romanized, and the last is modern spelling.

4) Did you catch that The Sea Kids mention? Hehehe.