CYRA | percy jackson

1.02

THE TWO OF THEM SAT AT THE STEPS OF THE WOLF HOUSE.

Cyra had been interrogating the boy for the past hour but she got nothing from him. And she couldn't even tell if he was faking it, oh, how she wished she had Reyna's dogs.

"Since you don't know your name, and I can't keep calling you 'the boy' in my head, I'll call you Abe."

The boy looked offended. "Ew, I'm not a hundred years-old."

"Charles?"

He winced.

"Bad memory?" Cyra asked.

"I wouldn't know."

"Oh, right." Cyra sighed. She forgot that he lost his memory. "I'm calling you Dory." She decided.

"No."

"Shut up, Dory. Take it or leave it."

"Fine." He paused for a moment. "What do I call you?"

"Cyra." Cyra replied. "I'm the Praetor of the Twelfth Legion."

"What's a Praetor?"

"Oh, Gods. This will take a while."

Once Cyra gave him the whole 'Gods exist and we are their mistakes, a.k.a. kids' talk, Dory looked okay. Which should've surprised Cyra, but she'd gotten so many surprises lately, one more didn't phase her

She didn't know what she was doing here, or why she hadn't left yet. When the sun started to set, the white wolf who led her there came up to the two humans.

Another two wolves went to Dory and forced him to stand up. They pushed him to a makeshift bed they made out of sheep wool and once again, forced him into the bed.

"Hey, this isn't that bad of a bed." Dory yelled out. A wolf barked at him.

"It's time for me to leave," Cyra said, getting into the old chariot.

"I don't think you will make it back on that." Dory snickered but stopped when Cyra glared at him.

"Chill, Cyra the great, Praetor of the Twelfth Legion." Dory mocked.

"I'm never coming back."

CYRA WENT BACK THE NEXT DAY.

She didn't plan on doing so, but the white wolf forced her to. She refused to leave for the whole morning and everyone at camp thought she had a new pet wolf. Reyna told her that she was the Praetor with the wolf and that Cyra couldn't steal her trademark, but Crya wasn't trying to. The white wolf just didn't budge.

So, she hopped onto the battered chariot and was dragged into The Wolf House.

Cyra wasn't excited to see Dory and his snarky ass. Thankfully, she didn't have to, because there was another lady there.

She was dressed in a white toga, her hair was pulled back into a tight bun. She had dark copper skin and bright yellow eyes. Dory was kneeling before her, sweaty and stinky. He held out his sword horizontally in front of him, head facing the ground.

"Cyra Andrés." The lady boomed. "Praetor of Rome, legacy of Venus, join us."

Dory looked up at her and mouthed: Help me.

A wolf barked at him and he snapped back into position.

The lady tsked. "Restart."

Cyra recognized the practice that the lady was forcing Dory to do. It was an old, and harsh way of instilling discipline in children.

Dory groaned loudly. Cyra and the lady looked at each other.

"Don't be pathetic, boy. The rules are simple: kneel for an hour and don't move." The lady said. She was harsh. "Restart."