Spectres

Jason

"Rosalyn!" Reyna roared. Motioning to one of my best friends to run, I watched as a spear stabbed the ground where she's been standing just seconds before. Dark hair originally pulled into a beautiful braid, it was now limp with the water it absorbed, my fellow praetor dripping water all over from head to toe.
"Is it my fault you were standing next to the pipes?" A girl with wavy brown hair asked. Even though she was twelve, she looked eight, standing at around half a foot shorter than me. Her eyes usually stayed your normal dark brown, but she seemed to be in her Romani mood today-heterochromatic eyes proudly displaying green from Neptune and grey from Minerva. She hid behind me, occasionally dodging left or right as Reyna darted forward, trying to catch her for some diabolical torture plan.
"Garden of Bacchus?" She asked.
"Why not." I replied.
"I'm heading to the bathhouse." Reyna declared. I saw a little quiver in her bottom lip, showing she was more upset by Rosalyn's stunt that she let in on. I'd have to check in on her later.
"At least we won!" Rosalyn quipped. Lightly smacking her in the arm, I hoped she got my message: shut up before Reyna kills you.

A few minutes later, we were sitting in the Garden of Bacchus, each holding a cup of chocolate; breath making little puffs in the air. "Jase, you got any peaches?"
"Rosalyn, that's an unhealthy obsession for chocolate and peaches." I stated.
"So?" She asked. "Reyna's already in the barracks, so I think we're clear."
I snorted. "Typical you."
Rosalyn nodded enthusiastically, like a kindergartener listening to a teacher explain rules before snack time.
"So do you have them?" When I shook my head, she groaned and playfully punched me in the arm. "Of all the days to forget peaches. They're easy enough to carry around, you know."
"They make weird noises during senate meetings."
"Your point?"
"I'm praetor. Are you trying to embarrass me?"
"Duh."
A typical conversation between the daughter of Neptune and the son of Jupiter, the so-called "stars" of the Fifth Cohort. We sipped our chocolate, occasionally looking up to make a snarky comment about the statue of Bacchus, perched on a fountain.
Everything was okay in life. Sure, my best friend disappeared from camp sometimes without any clear reason, but she always came back with only a few bruises. For all I knew, she'd been sparring with Cyclopes.
Her mother's arrival ruined everything.