Marcus jolted awake as a ray of sunshine hit his face, finally providing some much-needed warmth from last night's cold. He blinked, adjusting to the sudden burst of light. The young man casually glanced down, preparing to put on his slippers and head downstairs for breakfast.

A massive drop stared back up at him.

Marcus could hear the sounds of Naples waking up, shutters opened, ostrich, horses, and giant lizards pulling their carriages down the streets, and merchants hawking their goods to pedestrians.

This isn't a dream. This is real.

Marcus still didn't understand what happened the night before.

But, that guard said that I would have a trial tonight. This is fine, everything... is going to be alright once they take a look at the facts.

Marcus sat back down, ready to be taken to trial so he could get this whole ordeal over with.

Bored of waiting, Marcus squinted at what seemed to be a small bundle of black rags in the cell next to him.

The young man let out a fearful cry as the bundle of rags suddenly sprang to its feet. A head popped out of the cloth, fixing its two dark, almost black eyes on Marcus.

The girl covered in black cloth glowered at Marcus, analyzing his body language, face, and expression. She had short black hair, which was mostly covered by her makeshift shawl, and camel-colored skin.

"Hello? I'm Marcus."

The girl made no reply.

Who is this person? For her to end up in maximum security...

Marcus shuddered, suddenly happy about the steel bars separating them.

The girl stared at Marcus a few seconds longer. Apparently deeming him not to be a threat, she sat back down, not responding to any of Marcus's words.

An hour later, once the sun had cleared the horizon, and the door at the end of the bridge slid open.

First, a soldier carrying three trays entered. Their breakfast was a simple bowl of oats and a flask of water.

Seconds later, two more people entered the room, another Blue Palace Guard, leading a huge man, covered in chains.

Marcus recognized the prisoner, it was the Spartan who had chased him through the city the day before!

Numerous cuts had tattered the Spartans' clothing, with every step he took, the large man left a red footprint. Blue veins, no, burns crossed his chest like a misshapen spiderweb. The upside-down V on the man's forehead had changed from black to a deep red.

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The guard kicked the Spartan into a cell next to Marcus's, hurriedly slamming the cell door behind the new prisoner.

The wounded Spartan, took a few deep, heavy breaths before sitting down, "Damn Marcus, you just had to get arrested before I found you huh?"

Bewildered, Marcus replied, "Who are you?"

"Weeell, people have called me by a lotta names over the years, but you, dear boy, can call me Drakon."

Marcus had so many questions, "How do you know my name? How did you get arrested? Aren't you a guard? If you're Greek, why are you in Italy?"

Drakon answered with a hearty laugh, rubbing his rough stubble, "Well. It's a bit of a long story ma 'boy:"

He continued, "I was sent by someone very important to help you out until you turned eighteen, it's my quest of sorts. As for the whole guard thing: I'm not a soldier, I just thought it'd be fun to give you a bit of a scare. Your Greek is great though!"

Marcus paled at the thought of not a guard, but this random man chasing him through the streets of Naples. As their conversation continued, Marcus couldn't get any more information out of Drakon as to how he got here, who sent him, or who the man was.

"Well boy, it's been a good talk, you ready to get out of here?" The Drakon asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean are you ready to break out of this prison?"

The girl in black in the far cell shifted, fixing her dark eyes on the two.

Drakon, noticing her interest, raised an eyebrow.

"You interested in coming with us, princess?"

Marcus didn't follow, "What do you mean, princess?"

With a flamboyant flourish. Drakon gestured at the girl, and in a singsong voice he called to her, "Forgive me, Your Majesty, for not introducing you. Marcus, this is Princess Nubia Remus. Of the Egyptian Empire!"

That's two princesses in two days, this must be some kind of record.

The girl shot to her feet, slamming into the bars that separated her and Drakon.

"How did you know?" She hissed.

Casually approaching the bars, Drakon raised his hand toward Nubia, as if he was going to... pat her on the head?

With a furious growl, the princess threw off the cloak. Two large ears, resembling those of a Jackal, flew out from under her hood. Under her cloak, Nubia wore a black tunic and leggings, and her arms were completely covered in... bandages? Though it didn't look like she was very wounded.

She growled, revealing two long, sharp canines, as her hands shot towards Dragon's descending arm.

With a flash of black smoke, Nubia's long black nails transformed into deadly Jackal claws as she grabbed Dragon's arm, attempting to gouge his flesh, but when they made contact with the man's skin, the claws bounced off.

Marcus had never seen combat magic from this close. It looked powerful and intoxicating.

At the sight of the magic, something within the young man stirred.

Another round of laughter burst from Drakon, as he pat the stunned princess on the head.

"You were such a cute baby the last time I saw you, Nubia! How feisty you've gotten," The man said in an affectionate tone, "I suppose you can join us in our escape, I do owe your mother a favor."

Nubia stared in confusion at Drakon. Before she could reply, the door at the end of the bridge slid open, with a team of four guards striding in.

Drakons' expression switched from one of humor to dead seriousness. He cursed to himself before whispering to Marcus,

"Make sure you are able to get back to the cell before your execution."

There won't be an execution, once they set me free, my family and I can go back home, and I can leave this whole fever dream behind me, Marcus thought.

The squadron of four guards replaced Marcus's handcuffs before leading him back up the secret stairway, this time taking a different hidden passage.

They walked through the narrow maze of hidden passages for what Marus guessed was half an hour, until reaching a red marble doorway.

The squadron straightened out their uniforms and corrected their postures before pushing Marcus through the doorway.

Squinting, Marcus took in his surroundings.