Silenced (Demigod Story)

Camp Cleopatra

My bag was filled to the top with random shirts, pants, and basically any other survival think that you could possible think of.  My head ached from grasping all of the information that I could find about Romans.

I started off my quest by walking along the water front because I knew that the Romans would likely avoid that area.  From all of the facts that I had learned about Roman, I found out that Romans had bad luck around water.

I looked down at my black boots to see that they made deep footprints in the mushy ground.  The prints made me nervous, reminding me of how Romans or anyone could find someone just by following their footprints.  I quickly got onto the grass that was a little ways from the water, but would probably be my best bet if I didn’t want to be found.

I stared forward, thinking my plan through in my head.  Get to Roman leader.  Find a way to weaken the tree.  Find the location.

I wore a purple shirt and didn’t bring any camp shirts because I was fully aware that if the Romans had any reason to think that I was Greek, I would surely be killed

“What are you doing?” a commanding voice yelled from the darkness of the trees.

I stopped walking and my heart pumped so hard in my chest that I was afraid that whoever was in the trees would hear me.  “I, erm…” I stuttered.

“Aren’t you supposed to be guarding the catapults?” they asked.

“I…um…got distracted,” I struggled to speak.

Out from the trees, a large figure emerged.  It was a teenage boy, but extremely buff.  The tattoo of a dove on his arm didn’t make me feel any less afraid of him.  He wore a purple camp shirt, jeans, and running shoes.  There was no visible weapon on him, but I knew that he probably wouldn’t need them to kill me.

“What legion are you from?” he asked.

I frantically tried to think of what he meant and what would be the most believable explanation.  “The fifth.”

“The fifth?  I know every demigod in Leila’s legion and I don’t know you.  Who are you?” he demanded.

“I’m a daughter of Ceres.  My name is Floret?”

He looked me up and down with disgust.  I did the most Roman that that I could think of.

“Do you have a problem with the way I look?  I will have you know that you aren’t much of a looker yourself,” I spat.

He glared at me.  “You are calling a child of Venus ugly?  Are you really that much of an idiot?"

“Um…” I thought for a moment.  “I haven’t had any Roman noodles for a few days, you know.  The only way that Romans can get their source of vitamins.”

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“Yeah! I know, I should keep track of how much time has past sense I last had some Roman noodles.  I’m going to get some now.”

“You do realize that Romans don’t eat Roman noodles, right?  We don’t even eat roman noodles.  That is like me saying that Greeks must have Greek yogurt.”

“They need that too!” I exclaimed, giving up on making sense.

“I’m done playing your little games, you little daughter of Demeter,” he grunted.  He started walking over to me and I backed away.

“You dare insult me by calling me a child of Demeter?” I asked, trying to sound offended.  Instead my voice quavered in fear.  The Roman ignored me as he kept stomping towards me.  “I will have you know that I will not stand that kind of insult.  Shame on your cow for thinking that I am a Greek!”