AN: I HATE being sick. I feel like death warmed over and even when I'm on the mend I can never write. Does anyone else have this issue? When I'm in any way sick, even if I have ideas that I want to write, if I actually try it's a struggle to get out more than a sentence.

Wait, I reincarnated as a WHAT?!

Chapter 11

-Percy-

"And that's what happened after you…after Gaea." Reyna flinched at the mention of his Death as the two sat alone in a hut she'd been using. After the naming she'd fallen asleep for her metamorphosis to be done. So, he'd used that time to name the small army of goblins that had shown up in his absence and help the dwarves settle in.

She'd finally woken up about an hour ago and they'd been using that time to catch up…once she got over her change anyway. Before she'd looked distinctly like a minotaur, a bovine face, cloven hooves, short hair all over her body, a tail, the works. She still had features that made her clearly Reyna to him of course. The shape of the eyes, even if not the color, the color and style of her hair, how she carrier herself, and the distinct Legion Brand on her forearm.

Now she looked far more human. Granted, she was still utterly massive and with muscles that Rigurd would have to work to outdo, but that wasn't all. She still had her horns but now they were larger and shinier. The short hair all over her body was skin again apart from the cloven feet and the tail she still possessed.

"I'm sorry about Hylla." Percy gave Reyna's hand a squeeze, knowing that would have hurt Reyna more than the legion being how she already knew them to be. The Legion had been quick to accept him as Praetor and just as quick to hoist up Octavion, to rally for war, to say they trusted him then stop trusting him. To scream for blood and then blame the leader they pledged themselves to the second the fight was done.

"And I'm sorry you were separated from your family." Reyna nodded somberly.

"Well…not all of them." Percy gave a tired smile, giving Reyna's hand a squeeze "I mean, I have you with me now, right?"

"Yeah." Reyna gave him an equally tired smile as they rose together, new determination rising. Exiting the hut, he saw Rigurd working with the other Hobgoblin Chiefs, organizing what had apparently become the largest Goblin, now Hobgoblin, settlement in living memory.

"Ah, Lord Perseus." Rigurd spotted them instantly "Are you and your companion finished speaking?"

"Yes, thank you Rigurd." Percy gave a small smile to the loyal but gentle giant, "We…had a lot to catch up about."

"So, you two did know each other." Rigurd nodded, clearly glad for the clarification.

"Reyna and I are old friends, who have fought at each other's backs." He nodded, knowing that statement would earn her the trust of those who'd been at the village before her arrival.

"Is that why your arms both have those tattoos?" Gobta asked, the short hobgoblin's head tilted alongside his wolf companion's "Are we getting those too?"

"No." Percy's voice was firm, making several of his green skinned allies flinch, "Sorry." Percy sighed, having not intended to sound so harsh "But these marks aren't something you should want. Reyna and I…didn't have the best or safest time growing up. These marks are brands that go down to our soul. Our homeland was a dangerous place and joining was the only way we had to stay alive."

"The fact that we became as strong as we are, was simply luck and fate." Reyna admitted, "Most didn't reach our level…if they even survived." Rigurd clearly looked curious but didn't push further.

"But for now we have more important things to do." Percy clapped his hands together, grinning "We've got a small army of citizens now as well as four new people with the skills to help us make this place a proper home. Let's say we get started?"

-Rigurd-

Standing on the village wall, Rigurd looked out toward the fields that sat between the settlement and the forest. He could see Lord Perseus and the Lady Reyna sparring out there, their blows strong enough to level buildings if they sparred in the still building built city.

"They're still going at it?" Rigur asked, his son stepping up beside him, adjusting his new armor as Rigurd tried not to gush in pride at his boy.

Centurion.

It was a title that didn't mean anything to him only a few short weeks ago, but now had a great deal of importance here in the village. His youngest boy, bearing and honoring the name of his Rigurd's firstborn, was considered a leader of the village's forming militia alongside Gobta.

With the appearance of Lady Reyna, he'd seen a change in Lord Perseus. The Great One had always been full of life and welcoming, but there had been a slight distance to him. A pain and longing that Perseus had done his utmost to hide regardless. It reminded him of himself whenever he thought of his late wife, remembering their years together.

But now, with Lady Reyna, that gasp seemed to be shrinking. The once Minotaur, now Asterian, woman also was more open and livelier than she had been before Percy had returned from Dwargon.

The two would often sit with him and the other chiefs in the evening. It had started as Perseus holding council, planning out the city and its growth, welcoming any ideas anyone had. If it was not one, he would implement he would say so, but he was willing to listen to any idea given and many were still implemented. Those from himself and Reyna, ones from their apparent homeland, were often questioned by himself or the other chiefs.

Not because they doubted the ideas, but because they didn't understand them.

The picture that his Lord and the Lord's Lady painted of their homeland was astonishing. They spoke of towering buildings, of stone aqueducts with clean running water, of a place with enough peace to allow those who wished to dedicate themselves to the arts. They spoke of mages who could command the elements to their whims, of warriors refusing to yield against any odds, of healers who refused to lose to the foe that was death.

But they also painted a picture of tragedy and fear. Of children having to learn to fight so as to not die. Of enemies who sought the strong while seeing them as nothing more than food. Of civil war, of death, of the burning of shrouds.

His Lord and Lady were not so far apart in age from his youngest, a fact that had truly shocked him when he learned of it. And the shock of knowing just what the numerous bars on their arms meant, how long they had fought and led, told him an important lesson.

Lord Perseus was the great one. He was the leader of their still nameless village. He'd saved them from death, granted them names, put them on a path to prosperity.

But he was also young. He had suffered loss. And Rigurd could tell that despite how little Perseus seemed to want power, he would take every burden there was on his shoulders if it meant lessening the load of those he cared for.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he nodded to Rigur "Yes, they're testing out the new armor and weapons that Gaijin and the others made for them both." And it was certainly interesting seeing the new style of armaments. Even the Dwarves had apparently not seen the style before.

"We've finished the three buildings Lady Reyna had laid out for us so far." Rigur nodded, "And any broken materials have been collected as Lord Perseus ordered." Nodding, he clapped a hand to his son's shoulder "I'll go inform them then, allow Lady Reyna time to meet with Myrd about what buildings to begin next."

"Can you pass on word to Lord Perseus about another matter too?" Rigur requested before Rigurd could depart, "Gobta came back from patrol and commented that the giant ants are more agitated than usual."

"Lord Perseus will likely want to look into that himself then." Rigurd nodded, "I'll tell him then, than you Rigur." His son grinned at hearing his name before saluting and heading off to train with the cohort he had been assigned. Yes, their village was truly growing well.