Catch Fire || P. Jackson

𝟏.𝟎𝟒

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐀 had seen the Legion assemble, she'd been so intimidated, she'd almost slunk back to the barracks to hide. Even after being at camp for ten years, she still found it an impressive sight.

The first four cohorts, each forty kids strong, stood in rows in front of their barracks on either side of the Via Praetoria.

The Fifth Cohort assembled at the very end, in front of the Principia, since their barracks were tucked in the back corner of camp next to the stables and the latrines. The campers were dressed for war. Their polished chain mail and greaves gleamed over purple T-shirts and jeans. Sword-and-skull designs decorated their helmets. Even their leather combat boots looked ferocious with their iron cleats, great for marching through mud or stomping on faces.

In front of the legionnaires, like a line of giant dominoes, stood their red and gold shields, each the size of a refrigerator door. Every legionnaire carried a harpoon-like spear called a pilum, a gladius, a dagger, and about a hundred pounds of other equipment.

If you were out of shape when you came to the Legion, you didn't stay that way for long. Just walking around in your armour was a full-body workout.

Lea was busy adjusting her Cohort millimetres to each side. "Lea, we're fine." Austin Burke rested his hand on Lea's shoulder. Ever since Lea became Centurion, Austin became her voice of reason, somewhat helping to ease her neverending anxiety.

The son of Mercury smiled as Lea stopped making the forty kids shuffle from side to side. "Sorry." She mumbled.

"Actually—" Octavian piped up, sticking his plumed Centurion helmet in Austin's face.

Austin, very politely, shoved Octavian away. Hard. "No."

Before Octavian could reply, a sprinting figure caught his attention. Hazel Levesque ran past Reyna, who was cantering back and forth on her pegasus Scipio—nicknamed Skippy because he was the colour of peanut butter. The metal dogs Aurum and Argentum trotted at her side. Her purple officer's cape billowed behind her. "Hazel Levesque," she called, "so glad you could join us."

Hazel knew better than to respond. She was missing most of her equipment, but she hurried to her place in line next to Frank and stood at attention. Their lead centurion, a big seventeen-year-old guy named Dakota, was just calling her name—the last one on the roll. "Present!" she squeaked.

Technically, she wasn't late.

Nico joined Percy Jackson, who was standing off to one side with a couple of guards. Percy's hair was wet from the baths. He'd put on fresh clothes, but he still looked uncomfortable. Lea gave him a soft smile, before taking her place beside Octavian.

The Lares were the last ones to fall in. Their purple forms flickered as they jockeyed for places. They had an annoying habit of standing halfway inside living people, so that the ranks looked like a blurry photograph, but finally the Centurions got them sorted out.

Octavian shouted, "Colors!"

The standard-bearers stepped forward. They wore lion-skin capes and held poles decorated with each cohort's emblems. The last to present his standard was Jacob, the legion's eagle bearer. He held a long pole with absolutely nothing on top. The job was supposed to be a big honour, but Jacob obviously hated it.

Even though Reyna insisted on following tradition, every time the eagleless pole was raised, Lea could feel embarrassment rippling through the legion.

Reyna brought her pegasus to a halt. "Romans!" she announced. "You've probably heard about the incursion today. Two gorgons were swept into the river by this newcomer, Percy Jackson. Juno herself guided him here, and proclaimed him a son of Neptune."