Audentis Fortuna Iuvat

Her eyes looked down at me in complete disgust. “What do you think you’re doing? You’re a mess. A disgrace. Get up and stop being a complete imbecile.”

I blinked up at her as the sharp words sunk in like a hot knife melting its way into a block of butter. “What…?”

“You call yourself my daughter? You’re a whimpering puddle of worthless nothing that can’t even get over something that happened when you were a child!”

I rose from my knees and felt the tears dry before they hit my chin as I stared my mother into her cold, stony eyes. “What?”

“I can’t believe you dare to lay a claim to my blood! I’m surprised you haven’t died from shame already! After all, that’s what a coward would do!”

My eyebrows pinched together, I couldn’t believe the words were coming from her own lips. There was a bite to my voice when I asked again, “What?”

She laughed with all the humour of a block of ice. “No, you’re not my daughter. You’ll never be my daughter. The only blood you can ever claim is that of your coward father. But why should I be surprised? He was mad too, wasn't he?”

I was wordless with the anger shaking in my clenched fists. “I’m his daughter, but I’m also yours, like it or not.”

An eyebrow shot up. “Oh? Then prove it. Stop dwelling on the past and do your duty. You call yourself a Centurion? Then be a Centurion. Grow a spine and start actually leading your people instead of running away from them.”

“Running. Away?” I spat out the words like the vile poison they were.

She sighed like she had just sipped a coffee to find it cold. “I expected so much better from you. I expected heroism, leadership, bravery, even just normality. But I never expected cowardice. You are a coward, Kerri Davis. You are a coward.”

“I am many things, but I am not, a coward.” I was breathing heavily and fighting the urge to slap my godly mother in her glowing face.

“Prove it then. Accept your past and fight for your future. Show me that you deserve that mark on your arm and become a daughter of Bellona.” Bellona blinked her long lashes and her hard eyes gave me another firm look. “Become brave.” She nodded slightly and turned away from me, as she trod through the ruins her toga dissolved into purple mist that trailed behind her until she herself dissolved into nothing.

And I was left with Dakota and my thoughts. I was to blame for my father’s death, but did that mean that I had to punish myself for it? Did that mean that I had to live with the hurt and torture I felt ripping myself in two?

Could I be brave?

I felt Dakota’s arms wrap around my shoulders and I collapsed into them. Emotion must have run me dry for the next thing I remember is waking in the Camp Jupiter infirmary with a warm hand against my forehead, checking my temperature.

Notes

Guess who's back? :)
I wrote a chapter a day while I was away so I'll upload a couple each day for you wonderful people! :)))

-Phoebe :)