Hello! I don't have much to say really, except that I'm sorry for any grammatical mistakes or typos, because, though I've checked, I'm sure a few have slipped past without me noticing. I'm also sorry for anything historically inaccurate, and if you have any corrections I'd love to know. Apart from that, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

Disclaimer: Hey, the word to the left says it all!

Jason Grace, praetor of Rome and commander of the seventh fleet, stood at the bow of his ship, staring at the way they were going. It had been two days since they'd set sail from the small town of Siderno, on the South-East coast of Italy, and not one of his men were pleased to be sailing in Neptune's realm. The Ionian sea was well know to be treacherous and deadly to any Roman, yet it was the fastest and most strategic way to get to Greece.

His fleet was set for Crete where the Athenian King and Queen were staying. His, and four other fleets would close in round Lentas. Jason wasn't all that pleased about the attack. Every time the Romans conquered another people, he felt more like he was evil. These were powerful people. The Greeks has always resisted Rome, but they wouldn't be a threat. For the third time that morning, Jason pondered the emperor's, Regulus, decision.

They'd never attacked by sea before. It was never the Roman's forte; the Greeks were strong in the waves. It was even rumoured that their King's son, Perseus, was really son of Neptune. Strange things happened in the sea when he was around. He eyed the sea warily. Anything could be under those waves, waiting to attack...

Jason hated the sea more than any ordinary Roman. That was saying a lot, since a few emperors ago (around ten years) Caligula had ordered the sea whipped. But Jason's hat ran much deeper than a childish tantrum. He felt he should be superior of the sea, but knew it had a power that could well match his.

"Are you okay, Legatus?" Frank, the Optio (second in command) asked Jason, standing at his side. Jason realised he had be gripping the side of the ship, his knuckles white, and shacking tensely. He shot a look at his Optio.

"I no longer trust the Emperor's decisions. This – this is..." he cut himself off from saying madness. A man would be crucified for less. "This feels dangerous. You know?"

"The sea has never been our friend," Frank clarified. Frank had only just joined the legion a year ago, but had showed almost in-human ability at fighting. His bulky stature was never far from Jason, and the two young men had developed a strong bond which could only be made from being in life-or-death situations together. Around each other, they felt less like the boys people accused them of being. It was true, both were only just breaking the eighteen mark, but youth had proven very valuable in the Roman army recently.

"Sir?" Frank's African freed-slave addressed Jason timidly, "Octavion requests your presence. Yours too," she said to Frank. Jason smiled kindly at the girl. She was beautiful, and one day Jason hoped Frank would settle down in retirement with her as a wife. He wanted him to be happy, if he didn't die first.

"Thank you Hazel," he said gently. Hazel was one of the only people besides Frank who could get to his soft side. She was nervous of him, which saddened him a little, but was such a sweet thing amongst some of the things he saw every day.

Jason searched the deck for Octavion. He saw him 'consulting' the sacred chickens. He didn't look happy. As Jason walked to the Auger, he saw why. The chickens round his feet ignored the seeds scattered on the floor. One lay dead. The omen was clear: this battle would be lost. Behind him, Frank gasped, making the mano fico (fig hand) to ward off evil.

"Holy Jupiter," Jason breathed. Octavion smiled gravely.

"This is not a battle you want to engage in," he said to Jason, and Jason noticed how he didn't address him 'Legatus' as was the proper was.

"Frank?" Jason asked, panic rising in his throat, "what – what should we do?"

""We will surely perish if we don't turn round now!" Octavion cried, turning the heads of the neared slaves rowing.

"Perish?" One called before getting a lash from the slave-master.

"What of the emperors orders though?" Frank asked, "I don't think he'd be all that pleased – or believing."

"We could..." Octavion started, but was cut off by the call from the crow's nest.

"A ship, a Greekship!" The soldier called.

"By Mount Olympus, turn round now!" Octavion cried in panic.

"We can't, their ships are lighter; can sail faster!" Jason said, "hold!" The slave-master ordered the slaved to stop rowing. The whole Roman ship was silent. The soldiers below deck had quickly caught onto the situation, and awaited instruction. The slaves were terrified. Everyone on deck regarded the single Greek ship as it approached. They had spotted them. Their flag didn't single peace.

"We are surely all going to die," Jason muttered under his breath...

"This is a Roman ship, my Prince. Armed. Surly their intent to attack Crete," a lookout informed Perseus. He shook his head.

"Why can't they just accept peace?" He asked, " can we defeat them now?" Annabeth, his betrothed, answered.

"Our arches can pick off those on deck, but there's half a legion below. We'd just be killing slaves most likely. Their numbers – probably around forty. They outnumber us, but, you could – you know..." She was the only one set his mother and step-father, who knew of his abilities. Who his real father was. Percy really didn't want it to be common knowledge, but if it saved lives...

"Can we defeat them?" he asked again, trying to swallow his annoyance at Annabeth's long lectures.

"Probably, yes. It is known we have skill on sea."

"Good," he said, then raised his voice so the ship could hear, "archers, climb the rigging. Don't shoot the slaves; wait for the soldiers to come out. Swordsmen, ready!" The thirty men assembled as practised.

"A warning shot!" He yelled, and one man fired his arrow, hitting the mast with the precision of someone assisted by Apollo.

The arrow vibrated in the wood behind Jason. He spun round. Had they identified him as the leader? No, if they had, he'd be dead by now.

"You should get below deck, sir!" Frank called as if reading his thoughts, but Jason shook his head, "it's my duty to protect my legion." He drew his sword. Frank did the same.

"Should we arm the slaves?" Frank asked.

"No, they could turn on us. Keep them chained." Jason said. He hoped the Greeks weren't as barbaric as some said. He hoped they wouldn't kill the innocent and defenceless men. The Greek ship was only thirty meters away now. Jason could make out the face of their leader.

"Perseus," he muttered under his breath. The prince of Athens. Emperor Regulus would be very pleased with his capture or death. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he angrily shoved it away. He was not doing this for his own glory. He didn't want to do this at all. The ship continued to advance. Twenty meters, fifteen, fourteen...

Bam! Before the humans could engage in battle, a horrific shadow passed over the ships. The presence behind Jason was so terrible, he knew he'd met his match. Fighting armies was one thing. Fighting monsters... Such had only been told in the old stories. Had Perseus actually summoned?..

The creature was terrifying. It looked a lot like a dragon, but was obviously adapted to the sea. It's head was ringed with an intimidating collar, which it extended and drew in casually, and it's teeth were long and sharp, like a million haphazard daggers had been chucked into it's mouth. It was the size of three long, Greek ships, and twice as wide.

Beside him, Frank whimpered. The slaves were screaming, straining against their tethers. Octavion had fled below deck.

The Ketos Aithiopios raised it's tail. And with one swipe, destroyed the two ships.

Leo was blinded with salt water. The chains and the other slaves were dragging him into the dark nothingness below. It was a place he couldn't be. He wanted light and warmth and hope. Some of the slaves on his chain had stopped struggling, succumbing to death. Leo knew better. As quickly as the water allowed, he whipped out the lady's hair pin he'd hidden a few weeks ago, waiting for a chance to escape. It would save his life now.

He blindly inserted it into the lock of his shackles, wiggling it around. He felt as soon as they released. He focused only on holding his breath as he worked his dead limbs to the surface, thanking the Gods and his mother, for teaching him how to swim. It seemed an age. Every stroke felt like it would be his last. But slowly, slowly, he found his way back to life.

Okay, so that's it. I'll try to update regularly. Please please please review because it makes me happy.