75 BCE

The Boy

Cheers rang through the boy's head as he came back to his senses. They seemed to be screaming words but he could not make them out. His back was pressed against a cold stone wall. A large archway barred by metal poles was to the left of him. Sand and dirt blew in his face as the sound of stomping geed echoed around him

Across from him on the floor were the bodies of people from his village. The young boy wondered why the fell asleep here and why they had red paint splashed across their bodies in various places. They twelve year old noticed his clan healer amongst the bodies.

"Cleon wake up. Why are you sleeping? Where is my mom?" the boy looked around helplessly, "Cleon?"

He moved forward to wake the healer only to jerk back. He looked down to see thick metal chains around his wrists had him bolted to the wall. Tears began to will up in his eye as he realized that he was trapped. He imagined his mother's face in front of him, comforting him.

"Be strong my son," she would say. She was considered the village queen. The townspeople used to say that she had the most beautiful face in all of Greece. Yet somehow she was married to the filthy, cruel Gabriel. He was the only father the boy had ever known and he hated him.

He remembered the beatings that Smelly Gabe would give him if he did something wrong. The boy would come home crying with a large scrape on his elbow, hoping his mother would be there to wrap it up. Instead Gabriel was there and he punished the boy with beatings for being so weak. The boy would run away and cry for hours but he eventually learned to just take the beatings without a word.

His only comfort was when his mom told him the stories of heroes and Gods. He knew them all by heart. How Heracles completed the 12 labors and how Achilles was invincible. He worshiped the Gods. Every night he would pray to the mighty Zeus and Poseidon. Even though they didn't respond he somehow knew that they were listening.

The boy liked Poseidon the best. Perhaps it was because his blood father was lost at sea before he was born or just that he had always felt a connection with the sea. Once he even thought that he had heard a fish talk to him and call him "Lord".

The roar of a massive crowd broke his fragile concentration. Finally curiosity got the better of him and he inched toward the opening. The sight that greeted him were thousands upon thousands of people cheering, laughing, booing, clapping and something that his innocent mind did not understand. Rows stretched high in the sky surrounding a sand arena where two people were fighting.

The boy remembered his mother warning him about this place. It was called the Coliseum. The Romans owned them and made people fight to the death for entertainment. The boy hoped that the Romans would not make him fight. His mother told him to stay away from Romans.

Romans hated the Greeks. Only a few Greek city states were left in his home country including his own. His mother told him every night that they planned to enslave the Greeks and force us to serve under their cowardly king. They even took his precious Gods and changed them. Turning Zeus into Jupiter and Poseidon into Neptune.

The boy's gaze returned to the two people fighting in the arena. Now that he focused on it the fight looked more like a muscled man in armor with a sword beating up a fat man holding a rusted dagger. The gladiator danced nimbly behind the fat man, laughing as he brought the flat of his blade across the other man's back.

The crowd screamed going crazy.

The blow caused the fat man to stumble drunkenly in a circle before falling to his knees. The gladiator raised his leg and kicked his opponent in the back, sending him sprawling face first into the sand. For just a moment the boy felt bad for this man. Then the fat man looked up from his position on the ground and somehow his eyes met the boys. It was Gabriel. The armored man raised his sword over his head, two hands on the hilt. The boy then realized what the crowd had been chanting when he had first heard them.

Death.

The boy smiled.

He looked up at the crowd wondering who would make the final decision to end his step father's miserable life. The gladiator looked up at a booth where the high officials were seated in plush chairs. One man stood up and silenced the crowd with a single sweep of his arms.

He had dull colored robes, pale skin and a frame of only bone and flesh. He held out his thumb sideways.

Neutral.

"I grant this man," he paused before turning his thumb upside down, "DEATH!"

The crowd cheered as the gladiator's sword began its downward path. The boy met the eyes of the man who had caused him so much pain. Gabriel gave one last sneer before the life faded from his beady eyes.

The boy looked back at the bodies around him. They were dead too. The boy held back his tears. Before turning and crawling into the darkest corner that he could find.

His hear skipped a beat. He would not die. He would not let the gladiators kill him and he would not give the Romans the satisfaction of killing another Greek. He would survive, not just for himself but also for his mother. He could not see her with the other villagers and she was not in the arena so she must have been taken as a slave.

The bars that blocked the exit clicked open and three guards came into his cell. Two the made there way to his dead step father while the other crouched in front of the boy taking a key off his belt. The guard began to unlock the cuffs around his wrists. Speaking quickly and quietly.

"My name is Grover. I knew your mother Salina before she married your stepfather." Grover looked at his fellow guard who were now dragging the boy back. "We do not have much time," He grabbed the boy under his chin and forced him to look into his eyes, "You must survive. I cannot tell who your father is but you are powerful. Survive, escape slavery and make your way back to Greece. I will tell the others to look for you. You are Greek and a demi god, never forget that."

Grover pressed a knife into his hands. It had an unfamiliar bronze and gold mixed in with normal steel.

"Good luck."

The other guards dumped Gabriel next to the gate that led to the arena. And pushed the boy toward it. The boy couldn't help kicking the body on his way out. The boy looked back to see Grover faking a grin at the other two guards.

"Come on we need to go and leave this little guy to his fate," One of the guards game the boy another hard shove toward the arena. "Isn't he like three?"

"About that," Grover answered.

"That just cruel sentencing this guy to death. What did he ever do to them," the other guy shrugged and their voiced faded away as they disappeared down the hallway. The small boy took a deep breath and stepped in the light, putting his life in the hands of the crowd.

The boy kept his eyes glued on his enemy. Looked for any weakness. He could see the slight craziness that had entered the gladiator's eyes as he thrust his fist into the air. He was still eying the gladiator when a hush fell over the crowd. The man gripped his sword tighter turning around to view his final opponent.

Suddenly the crowd began to boo so loudly that the boy began to hope for his life maybe the leaders of the tournament would listen to the crowd and stop the match. The gladiator looked up at his boss. The Senator made a motion as if saying "Go on."

The boy's opponent grit his teeth before turning and leaping at the boy hoping to end this quickly. Then to everyone's surprise the young child jumped out of the way.

The boy felt the air swish past his face and the spectators began to scream once more. They forgot that he was just a young kid and now they wanted a good fight that ended in blood. The boy blocked out all noise that was being made outside of the arena. Unconsciously the small boy shifted into a fighting stance. He charge at the old man trying to stab the man in the leg. The gladiator easily scooted out of the way and swapped the boy hard in the back his head.

Black dots danced in his vision but he shook them away turning so quickly that it sent his head ringing. He heard his heart beating hard in his chest and the blood pumping through his veins giving him a shot of adrenalin. The boy opened his senses to find the other man weakness as they cautiously circled each other. Unlike the boy the Roman champion's breath was ragged from and hours of fighting hostages. He was favoring his left leg over his right.

A large gash was steadily dripping blood onto the ground. Thump, thump, thump. The vibrations rocketed around the arena and through the boy's entire body. The clumsy twelve year old took a step backward as the gladiator advanced falling down as a rock snagged his foot.

As soon as he hit the ground a force hit him, calming his mind and taking over his body. The boy's concourse was shoved out into the open arena and he watched helpless as his body moved on its own accord.

The boy watched in awe as his body rolled easily out of the way of a sword that wound have impaled his stomach. Then the body got up walking confidently at the gladiator swinging his sword in a way that only experienced swordsman could do.

The boy's body leapt at the Roman their swords connecting with a shower of sparks. For a moment it seemed like the gladiator was winning. He had gotten a lucky shot on the boy's leg that was giving him a limp. His body hit the ground just in time. The boy saw his body get up into a crouch and swing its leg under the gladiator knocking the other man onto his back.

The boy watched his body turn and look at the man in box for permission to kill. In the moment that the boy's eyes met the eyes of his body he noticed that they were glowing. His usually sea green eyes were giving off a powerful aura that someone only out of the stories could give off.

The man in the box did not stand up or silence the onlookers, he just held his thump upside down disappointed with his champion. His body glared at the gladiator and whispered something to him.

"This is for my son."

The boy closed his eyes as the warriors head was separated from his body and when he opened them again he was back in his own body. The boy lowered his arm in shock letting the sword fall out of his fingers. For a moment there was a sea breeze smell that seemed to ruffle his hair but it was gone so quickly that the boy thought he must have imagined it. He turned and limped a few steps toward the box that held the senator before stopping and looking at his leg. It was still bleeding.

The boy closed his eyes again trying not to throw up at the sight of his own blood or the beheaded man lying just a few feet from him.

There was total silence for one second then the cheering, roaring and stomping began again louder than before. The best part was the word that they were chanting.

Life.

"Life, life, life, life, life," it kept going on forever before the skinny man stood up again. He silenced the crowd with more difficulty. Whatever had controlled the boy's body was completely gone and he felt like he was going to collapse at any second.

"What is your name boy," the senator called down.

"Percy," the boy squeaked out before clearing his voice and calling out louder, "PERCY!"

The man learned forward stroking his nonexistent beard.

"You shall be called Perseus. It is a warrior's name. You are a Graceus, Yes?" Percy nodded. The crowd cheered loudly before the unknown man brought them to order, "You fight well for a Graceus. For your bravery and skill in the arena we grant you," he paused dramatically, "LIFE!"

The crowd abandon their synchronized chant going wild and the man in the box didn't even attempt to control them.