Fate and Desired (A Percy Jackson Fan Fiction)

Fresh Beginnings in Another Universe | Chapter II

Chapter II

~Irena~

Fire.

My heart pounded, palms sweated as the bitter taste of iron rose in my mouth. Frantically, I dashed from room to room of the mansion , a small light of hope for its residents dimmed as no familiar faces were found. Tears spilled like tsunamis from my honey-brown orbs as all I knew, all I grew up with, burned to ashes. The blood in my ears roared, the wooden beams above me screeched and moaned, flames cornered me in a wall, heat scarring my skin, until,

"Ahh!"

I shot up from the nightmare, knocking my head in the process. I hissed in pain, my hands flying to my face as they familiarized themselves with the smooth skin.

No burns.

It was all a dream. If you even call it that.

My hands traveled down to my neck, shoulders, and eventually down my arms, until they felt an unfamiliar roughness on my right forearm. I glanced downward,

"Ahh!"

and noticed the burn marks.

I jumped in the initial shock of before, and hit my head on the bunk above me, again. The markings were still new to me. My hitched breath slowed after a while before I glanced at the scars again. S.P.Q.R, the letters of the legion, and Pluto's symbol were all that was on my arm. A brand that proved who I was, where I came from , and possibly, my destiny. My left index finger traced over the skin, and I winced on contact.

These markings were still fresh. Only a weeks time.

This is who we are now. This is who we have become.

I lingered in my bed, just trying to grasp the situation I and Catalina were now in. Catalina, my best friend since, well, forever, had the same scars I did. Well, not exactly. To put it lightly, her past was, erm, darker than mine. But about the roman brands, her arm beared the symbol of Minerva. Many were astonished when we arrived to the branding ceremony, for a child of Minerva simply didn't exist. Only Greek children could be of the wise lineage. Apparently, Cat was an exception.

Anyways, it was still creepy no matter how tough it made us look.

My thoughts traveled back to our lives as they are now. Our burns, our introduction to everyone and everything, what we had to learn like the protocol, and schedule. Most importantly, about what was happening outside the camp. There was a war going on between the Giants and Gaea and the Great Seven, or now, Five. Two had gone missing and everyone was frantic to find them, or at least the most endangered one, Percy Jackson.

Everything we knew is not what we were. Or, what we are.

Suddenly a voluminous cloud of dark, curly, wild mahogany locks popped into my sight. With that mane also came blue-grey-green irises to contrast. The next unmissable feature was the ear-to-ear grin on her pale face that could make even the coldest of hearts smile.

"Gooooooooood Morning, Irena!" She said gleefully, which was difficult to muster with the fact that we could possibly perish.

"Good Morning, Cat." I responded, reciprocating her smile. She giggled slightly, before a look of question with a hint of mischief shrouded her face.

"Why are you upside-down?" She said in a childish tone. I rolled my eyes playfully. How does she always seem to make herself goofy and then laugh at herself again? Not many people can accomplish that. Its rare to find those people now a-days.

I gave her a stoic look, but maintained the contagious smile.

"Umm, I won't answer that." I replied. With that, I leaned around her head and slid out of my bunk. She laughed and tossed her head back up to her bunk, before jumping over the railing and landing on her feet. She recovered from her crouched position, bright eyes and smile still plastered to her face. I looked back at her and shook my head whilst keeping my own grin. We walked out of the Fifth Cohort's sleeping quarters and made our way to the Field of Mars. Tonight was yet another 'war' game. So far, the Fifth Cohort hadn't lost a game. It was, as Vitellius said, because the trio of demi-gods, Hazel Levesques, Frank Zhang, and Percy Jackson, had brought back their golden eagle. Not just to Cat and I, but the great Seven were heroes to all Romans and Greeks alike. When the war is over, Cat said she was going to do everything it took to get an autograph from them.

Yeah. That's Cat for you.

I glanced at Cat, and she was singing a random song, with her eyes closed. This was her habit that formed whenever she got nervous. Singing and music was a past-time she and her father shared. It kept her head in the game. But ever time I tell her she's talented, her naturally flushed face glows red and her 'modest-walls' (as she calls them) go up.

We continued our walk until made our way to the dining hall and sat down with the Fifth Cohort. We knew no one but Gwen, so we sat by her. Once we did, I noticed another Fifth member approaching us, his mouth was stained red and he held a goblet of, supposingly, Kool-Aid.

Ok...not weird at all...

"Hey! These the two new kids?" The kid asked, taking another sip from the glass. Gwen rolled her eyes.

"Yes, Dakota. They've been here for a week now." she responded. "Talk about slow," she muttered to us. Cat and I stifled laughter.

"Did you train them for the war games tonight?" He asked, raising a brow. Gwen exhaled, getting slightly annoyed.

"Dakota, how about you let us eat, and no, I will train them in the afternoon." With that, Dakota shrugged , seemingly satisfied with her answer and walked off.

She glanced at us. "You guys done?" I glanced from her to Cat. She looked to me and shrugged, then nodded. I turned back to Gwen.

"Yeah. We are."

"Good. Go get your weapons. A little more practice won't hurt." She smiled before getting up from the table and exiting the hall.

We both followed her after finishing our breakfast. Right about half-way to the shed, I noticed Cat was holding something;

a bagel.

I gave her a 'really?' look. She had a deer- in-headlights look before simply shrugging.

"What? I had to agree on something. Plus, the food there's great!" She said with a mouth full of dough. I shook my head at her antics, laughing nonetheless.

We got to the weapon shed and began rummaging through the throngs of weapons to find ours'. Ironically, Cat chose a bow and quiver full of arrows. She was pretty good, excepts that time she accidentally shot Hannibal's water tub. No child of Neptune could control that puddle. I had a more traditional Roman weapon, a spatha. It was light with an interesting silver hue, longer than a dagger but shorter than a sword. Every practice doll I rehearsed with never got sown back together.

It was that sharp.

On our way to the practice round, Cat started talking about how the other camp may be like. The Greeks Camp. I wonder if they have 'new demis' like us, and if they do,

what are they doing now?