Chapter Text
The deck of the Amazon vibrated beneath Hylla’s feet in time with the steady rhythm of the waves. The open sea stretched out in every direction like a sheet of blue steel, cut through by the Amazons’ ships advancing in perfect formation. From there, with the wind tugging at the cloak draped over her shoulders, Hylla ruled everything: the fleet, the army, the company that bore her people’s name and a not insignificant part of the modern world.
She held a tablet in her hands, logistics reports, trade routes, and encrypted messages scrolling across the screen. The Amazons never stopped, and neither did their queen. And yet, that morning, her thoughts kept circling back to the same thing: the wreck. Artemis’s Hunters had spoken of an ancient ship, lost centuries ago, lying somewhere in those waters. A wreck that was not merely wood and iron, but history, power… and perhaps danger.
She was about to issue a new order when the cabin door flew open with too much force.
“Queen Hylla!”
Lisa, one of the Amazons on watch, burst in almost at a run. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes wide. Losing control like this was not like her.
Hylla lifted her gaze, cold as a winter sea.
“Calm yourself,” she said, her voice firm and commanding. “Breathe. Then tell me what’s going on.”
Lisa swallowed. “We’ve found-”
Hylla straightened almost imperceptibly. “The wreck?”
“No.” Lisa shook her head, still shaken. “A girl and a child. In the water.”
For a moment, surprise crossed the queen’s face. “Explain.”
“They were swimming among the waves.” Lisa lowered her voice. “The child is terrified. The girl is injured… but she won’t let anyone get close. She’s defending the boy like a lioness.”
Hylla was silent for a single heartbeat. Then she closed the tablet and turned toward the exit.
“Take me to them,” she ordered. “Now.”
The main deck of the Amazon was a tangle of taut ropes, hurried footsteps, and low voices. When Hylla stepped onto it, the scene unfolded before her like a fragment torn from a restless dream.
At the center of the space, surrounded by a cautious semicircle of Amazons, stood a girl soaked to the skin with seawater. Her blond hair, darkened and heavy with salt, clung to her face and shoulders, plastered against a torn tunic. Her gray eyes, tracked every movement with fierce attention. In her right hand she held a Roman sword, short and solid, raised despite the tremor running through her arm.
“Don’t come any closer,” she snarled, her voice hoarse but thick with threat.
Hylla slowed her steps. Something about the sight didn’t add up. The posture was Greek: natural balance, the way she distributed her weight, the instinctive confidence of someone raised to fight. And yet the weapon, the sandals, even the cut of her clothes spoke unmistakably of Rome. When the girl cursed under her breath, in sharp, precise Ancient Greek, Hylla’s confusion deepened.
That was when she saw him.
Behind the girl’s left leg, almost fused to her, a child of five..maybe six, was hiding. His hands were clenched in the wet fabric of her tunic, knuckles white with fear. His face was streaked with tears and salt, his arms and knees scraped, but nothing compared to the girl’s condition. Blood seeped from her side, a dark stain the seawater could no longer wash away.
Hylla raised a hand, ordering silence.
“That’s enough,” she told her warriors. “Step back.”
Then she took a step forward, slow, deliberate.
“Dic mihi, quis es?” she tried in Latin.
The girl frowned. “What are you saying?” she snapped, tightening her grip on the sword.
Hylla sighed softly and switched languages. “All right. English, then.” Her dark eyes met the girl’s. “Who are you?”
The answer came instantly, sharp as a blade. “Who are you?”
For a moment, Hylla found herself smiling, not outwardly, a queen never did. Pure admiration. Wounded, exhausted, with a child to protect and surrounded by an army, the girl hadn’t yielded an inch.
Before Hylla could reply, a thin voice cut through the wind and the creaking wood.
“You look like my mama.”
The child leaned forward slightly, wide eyes fixed on Hylla.
The girl grabbed him at once, pulling him back against her. “No,” she hissed. “Don’t look at her.”
Hylla remained still, confused. The words clung to her like an echo.
“We won’t hurt you,” she said at last, her voice lower but no less steady. “You’re safe. You’re on an Amazon ship.”
The name seemed to drop into the air like an anchor. The girl swallowed. Her shoulders lowered just a fraction, her grip on the sword faltering. The adrenaline that had kept her standing drained away all at once, like a breaking dam.
“Amazons…” she murmured, more to herself than to them.
She took a step back. Then another. Her knees gave out without warning.
Hylla lunged forward.
“Catch her!” she ordered.
The girl collapsed into the Amazons’ arms, the sword slipping from her grasp and clattering against the deck. The child cried out, “No! Leave my mommy alone!” trying to follow her, but Hylla knelt in front of him, her gaze suddenly more human than regal.
“She’s safe,” she said. “You both are.”
The sea continued to move around them, indifferent. But Hylla knew that, in that moment, something important had just come aboard the Amazon.
*
A few minutes later, the silence in the lower corridor of the Amazon was thick as fog.
Hylla walked at an unhurried pace beside one of her Amazons, the ship’s gentle roll barely noticeable beneath their feet.
“I want a full report,” she said. “Now.”
“The girl is stable,” the warrior replied. “Badly injured, but we treated her in time and she responded well. Her body is exhausted, though. She’ll be asleep for a while. Hours, maybe days.”
Hylla clenched her jaw. “So she won’t be talking anytime soon.”
“No, my queen.”
Hylla nodded and turned to another Amazon waiting nearby. “The child.”
“He’s uncooperative,” she said. “He won’t eat unless we force him. He doesn’t cry. Hardly speaks at all.” She hesitated. “But he’s clearly angry. He keeps insisting on seeing his mother.”
You look like my mama.
The words struck Hylla again, sharp as a well-honed blade.
“Take me to him,” she ordered.
The mess hall was bathed in warm light, far too calm for what was unfolding there. The child sat stiffly on a bench, his feet not reaching the floor. Two Amazons were unsuccessfully trying to engage him: one had set food in front of him, the other was speaking softly, gesturing as she talked.
The child ignored them both with absolute stubbornness.
Hylla paused to observe. One corner of her mouth lifted slightly.
“Thank you,” she said at last. “You may go.”
The two warriors left, casting her grateful looks.
Hylla sat across from the child, keeping a respectful distance. She wasn’t wearing her helmet, and her spear rested against the wall.
“Hi,” she said.
No response.
“My name is Hylla.” She paused. “I’m the queen of this ship.”
The child didn’t seem impressed. He looked at the table. Then the food. Then away again.
“Your mamy is fine,” Hylla continued, her voice calm and measured. “She’s hurt, but alive. She’s sleeping so she can heal.”
The child clenched his fists.
“Sleeping…” he muttered. “That’s what they always say when they’re lying.”
“Sleeping helps” Hylla said. “Even the strongest warriors need it.”
A long silence. Then, quietly, “Will she wake up?”
“Yes.”
“Soon?”
Hylla shook her head gently. “Not right away. But she will come back to you.”
The child lowered his gaze, torn. Then he picked up the spoon. One distracted bite. Then another, while Hylla kept talking as if nothing were happening.
“What’s your mommy’s name?”
“Jade,” he replied. “Mamy Jade.”
Hylla noticed the child’s purple shirt, still wet, even though he had refused to change.
“You’re from New Rome, but you don’t understand Latin.”
He looked at her, offended. “I do understand it!” he snapped. “But my mamy doesn’t speak it. She understands Greek.”
Now Hylla was even more confused.
“Why would a Greek woman dress like a Roman?”
“Because she’s with Mama and lives with her in New Rome.”
So as long as she spoke about his mothers, he answered without hesitation.
“Was she the one who got you out of danger?”
The child nodded. “She was running. Even with me in her arms.”
“And what attacked you?”
The spoon stopped. “Monsters and bad guys” He lifted his dark, serious eyes. “Bad ones. They flew. They screamed a lot.”
Hylla felt a weight settle in her stomach. “And then?”
“Mama fought to protect us.” His voice grew steadier. “She was in front. Always in front. So Mamy could run.”
“Mama…” Hylla repeated. “Who is Mama?”
The child stared at her as if the question were obvious. “Mama is Mama.”
He paused, then added with certainty, “When Mamy wakes up, we’ll go back. Mama doesn’t lose. She’ll be waiting for us.”
Hylla drew a slow breath. Every word was falling into place, forming a picture she did not like at all.
“May I ask you one last question?” she said.
The child hesitated, then nodded.
“What is your mama’s name?”
There was a moment of silence. Then the child answered, with complete naturalness, “Mama Reyna.”
The name fell into the room like a thunderclap.
Hylla stood perfectly still. She didn’t blink. She didn’t speak. But inside her, something broke, and reformed, at the same time. That name did not belong to just anyone. It was a name heavy with history, with battles, with vows. A name Hylla knew all too well.
Reyna.
The queen of the Amazons slowly closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she looked at the child with an entirely different expression.
“Then,” she murmured, “while we wait for Mamy to wake up, let’s go find Mama.”
The child’s face lit up, and Hylla couldn’t help thinking how many things she would have to say to her sister.
"It’s been three years since we last saw each other… where did you even get a six-year-old son?"
"And who in Hades is Jade?"