The Return of the Lost (Mason)

A lone figure trudged wearily towards her home, her feet ached, her whole body felt exhausted by her long difficult journey. Her heart lay heavy, three Legionnaires marched out on a quest, only one returned. She cast a sad look over her shoulder but kept trudging on home. The Legionnaire's name was Valerie, she happened to be a Child of Apollo, First Cohort. Her yew short bow and a nearly empty quiver of arrows were slung over her back. On her head was a faded purple Camp Jupiter baseball cap, her hair, long, dark brown and curly, her dark brown eyes shone with a mixture of grim, weary determination. She was small, petite, wearing baggy combat trousers, worn dark brown leather walking boots and a faded and torn purple Camp Jupiter t-shirt.
As she neared the tunnel, two unfamiliar legionnaires ordered her to halt, one drawing his sword, the other leveling his spear at her. Both demanded to known who she was and her presence here. "I'm Valerie, First Cohort. Daughter of Apollo." They exchanged blank looks, and told her there was no Valerie in the first. She glared at them, if this happened to be someone's idea of a joke, it was not very funny. She had been gone a couple of months, tops, lost two of her best friends in the entire world and now someone happened to be playing this prank on her.

"Fine." She snapped. "Take me to see Centurion Johnathan Grace, First Cohort." She eyes flickered from one to the other. "He'll vouch for me."
Again, another confused look. "There is no Centurion Johnathan Grace, Valerie, if that is indeed your real name."
"Yeah." Said the other one. "It's..."
"Shut up, she could be trouble. Like a spy or something."
"Look." Valerie said, exasperated, too exhausted to argue, wanting to do nothing more than fall into her bed after a good meal and a long hot bath. "Take me to whoever is in command of the First Cohort." If Johnathan was no longer in command did that mean he left the Legion? Retired as it were, after all he could not of been more than a couple months away from it when she departed on her quest.

The two guards exchanged a look and finally agreed to permit Valerie to enter. The three of them walked in silence through the tunnel, Valerie too annoyed and too tired to wish for much conversation. The two Legionnaires marched her like a prisoner, though permitted her to keep their weapons for now. It was around midday in Camp Jupiter, Valerie kept a keen eye out for any familiar faces, but saw none. Not even any of her friends from the other cohorts. A flicker of trepidation seized her suddenly, what if the camp had been attacked whilst she was away?

They arrived at a familiar tent, one which Valerie knew from past experiences housed the Centurion of the First Cohort. One of the guard's asked for permission to enter, which when granted, the trio marched in. Valerie in the middle. Her guards stood to her sides.
"Centurion Virgo Sir!" One of them declared with a crisp salute. "We found this girl at the tunnel entrance. She claims to be Valerie of the First Cohort. But the names she provided are wrong."
"Yes Sir." The other one chimed in. "There is no Valerie in the First Cohort and there never was a Centurion Johnathan Grace. Valerie remained silent, feeling small, tired and rather annoyed by all of this, waiting for the Centurion to speak.

Carter was wearing his glasses and looked up at the much shorter girl that his guards had brought him. "Well, there was at one point a Johnathon Grace as Centurion, but that was damn near sixty or seventy years ago. You two can leave, I'll speak to the girl alone," he said, putting away the leadership book he was looking at. "I'm Carter Virgo, Centurion of the First Cohort. Please, take a seat. So, tell me how you got to camp," he said, sitting down on the opposite side of his desk, pouring some apple juice into a wine glass (it looked more professional). "Want some?" he offered.

Valerie felt like she had been punched in the gut. She paled visible, for a few moments Valerie felt faint. Sixty or seventy years? That was impossible. It couldn't be true, she was only gone for a couple of months. It simply failed to make any sense. The two guards saluted and left, leaving Valerie alone with an unfamiliar centurion. She gratefully took the offered seat, all but collapsing into it. The legionnaire seemed so frail and look ever so very small. I'm Valerie O'Farrell." She said in her Irish accent. "I..." She took a deep breath, hiding her head behind her hands for a moment before moving them away. "I... It..." Another deep breath, she tried to compose herself. "It doesn't make any sense. How... How could I of been gone for so long?" Valerie stared at Carter as if he knew the answer but refused to tell her. It only just occurred to him that he had asked her a question. "Sorry, yes. Please." Valerie's tired mind was completely shattered by the information she gathered from him. Everything she knew, all the people she knew, it was... It was all gone. History now. Nothing more. She felt so vulnerable, so out of place. A tiny part of her wanted to do nothing more than curl and sob.

Carter quickly poured her a glass of apple juice. Knowing she was in some sort of distress, Carter quickly grabbed a piece of ambrosia from his desk's candy bowl. "Take this, I think you'll feel better," he said, handing it to her carefully. "Nice to meet you, Valerie. Could you explain to me what happened to you while you were gone? What you were sent for and all?" he asked, as he got up and went to a filing desk. He pulled out one drawer, trying to find anything marked for Valerie O'Farrell. "Do you know who your god parent is?" he asked, looking in her direction for a moment as his hand hovered over the folders. Carter looked back down- O'Alvertz, O'Conners, there it was. He slipped out a folder marked Valerie O' Farrell.

She accepted both the food and the drink. Valerie nibble at the ambrosia piece. "Thank you." The demigod managed to mumble. It relaxed her somewhat, the food reminding her of freshly baked loafs of bread. Valerie clearly looked reluctant as if that were the last thing she wished to do, but rather object she nodded the once silently. I went on a quest, well combat mission. With my closest friends Max, Son of Mars and Fredrick or Freddy as he preferred, Son of Mercury." She sat the glass down, her hand shaking, eyes shimmering with the first hints of tears. "We were sent to hunt down a monster in Las Vegas. But... But... It was the Nemean Lion." She bit back a sob and managed to continue. "I... We tried to kill it, yet our weapons were all but useless. Max..." The tears spilled silently down her cheeks. "Max willingly took a lethal blow, leaving it exposed for a sword thrust by Freddy into it's vile more." She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand and managed to continue, the words spilling out in a flood now. "We were forced to leave his body behind as more monsters were on the way. They pur... Pursued use relentlessly. We fought countless battles, desperately trying to get away. We... I... W... When we were successful in this, we were battered, demoralised and utterly exhausted. Max was dead. We needed to rest, we needed shelter." She blinked away some tears. "We made our way into a hotel, Lotus something... I checked out though the staff were overly friendly... I lost Fredrick, I could not find him. I thought he might of left without me. Is he here? Did he make it?" She managed to ask between grief wracked sobs.

Carter listened to her story, drinking his apple juice. He felt grieving for her, because he knew what it must've been like to lose that much. He didn't want to press her and interrogate her, but he wanted as much information as possible. He sighed and took a deep breath before speaking. "I don't think that Fredrick ever returned. I'm sorry. The place you ended up in was the Lotus Casino, home of the Lotus Eaters. You must've been stuck there in their trap for a long time." He became quieter, fiddling around with a key on his desk, before deciding to speak again. "Valerie, what is the last date you can clearly remember?" he asked, looking at her in the eyes. "And who's the youngest person you remember from camp at the time?"

Wh... What? That's impossible. He can't be dead. I... He must still be trapped at the casino." She objected snivelling quietly. "What trap? I... It had everything a demigod needed to recov..." Valerie trailed off as the obvious trap suddenly hit home. It had everything they would ever want or need. They did not wish for anyone to leave the casino, not now, not ever.
She looked surprised by the question, rubbing her eyes, her cheeks streaked with her tears. "Oh. That's easy. It's..." She trailed off, Valerie should of known this. It was not that complicated. "I don't know." The daughter of Apollo looked utterly distraught. At his next question she thought about it for the moment. "There was a daughter of Venus... She was only six or seven. I never knew her personally... I... I can't quite recall her name. Something with a G. I think."

Carter let her realization settle in and remained quiet until she answered his question. "Hmm, was it Geneva, possibly? She's an older lady who lives two streets from me, I'm pretty sure she's a daughter of Venus." He opened her folder, looking at her files. There was an old-timey photograph of her. "Basing off of this, you're somewhere from in the vicinity of the 1950s. The current year is...uh," Carter hesitated telling her, but he knew she would have to find out. "2018," he said. He slid the photograph of her across the table. "It says here you were born in 1940 and you're in my cohort, the First. Daughter of Apollo. Came here from Dublin, Ireland, huh?"

She nodded slowly. "I think so." Valerie whispered, uncertain herself. "2018?" She gasped. "I've been gone for over sixty four years." It looked for a horrible moment that she might faint. Valerie looked at the photograph, it was of her alright. "That's correct." She said quietly, falling back into her chair somewhat. For the moment, the tears stopped at least. The daughter of Apollo was stunned.

"Well, my grandmother's around 65, so she was born or an infant when you left camp. I'm sorry about all of this, I really am. I think camp just assumes after a few months that the person unfortunately died." Carter patted her hand. "Do you want some more apple juice, or ambrosia? We should probably get you back to the barracks as well, acquaint you with where you are staying. I'm just glad you survived, Valerie, that means you have purpose."

Valerie stared at him in stunned grief stricken silence. With a trembling hand, she reached forward and clasped her glass. It still had some juice, which her shaking promptly spilled out over the desk and partly over herself. She sat the glass heavily down on the table, wiping her hands on her jeans. "I... I'm sorry." She burst into tears again, burying her head in her hands and hunching over.

"It's okay," Carter said in a calm tone. He cleaned the juice off the table with a Clorox wipe (he kept those next to the books and blood-rusted swords). He threw it away. "Do you want to go to the infirmary? I'm sure you need healed up a bit." And, what Carter did say, mental help after all of that. Carter was unfortunately not very good at backseat psychology.

After a bit, she stopped sobbing and looked up at him, her eyes red from crying, tears dripping down her cheeks. Valerie nodded the once, wiping some of the tears away with her hand. She took several deep breaths trying to compose herself, feeling as though she was failing utterly. Her entire world had been ripped open, or to be more accurate, she had been ripped from her own timeline and flung into the future. 2018. She had been gone for so long. Valerie wanted to do nothing more than howl her loss out, to curl up and cry. Yet, somehow she suspected that such a thing would not be too acceptable in front on her new commanding officer.

Carter stayed quiet, letting her have her moment of silence. He understood how much was coming at her at once. He poured some more apple juice for himself.

"I..." She wiped away a tear, snivelling. "Can... C... Can I have a hug please? I know it's unRoman but... B.. But I think it would help." Valerie wondered if he might be offended by this request. She had spent far too long wandering by herself on the long journey back to Camp. The daughter of Apollo barely managed to make it back home. In a way she hadn't, yet in a way she had. Just some six decades too late.

Carter awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. It wasn't normal for someone to ask him for a hug, especially another Roman, nor did he think he'd ever consider it. Then again, this girl had been through a lot, and he honestly felt for her. He stood up and carefully put an arm around her. "It'll be okay."

Valerie hugged him back, holding back some tears. After a while she pulled away from him. "T... Thank you." She said in a quiet voice, avoiding looking at him. It was not a thing a Roman should ask, but she thought it might help calm her.

"Of course. Anything else?" Carter asked, looking down at the girl.

"I... I will do my best to make you proud Centurion." She tried to sound determined but it came out as a quiet, nervous uncertainty.

"That's a tall task, but I have faith you will. Now, go explore 2018, and if you have any concerns, give me a call," he said with a smile.