Cebrain wiped the sweat off of his dirty forehead. The heat in the Baetican port was starting to become unbearable. How long this man was planning to have him here, he could not tell. All he wanted to do was to go home. Go to his real home.

It had been seventeen years since his exit from Mount Olympus. Actually, to put it correctly; it had been seventeen years since Zeus had thrown him off of the slopes of Mount Olympus. He still could not understand why he had been so angry; in all the years that Hermes had watched him, his father never really seemed to have had a liking for his step mother Hera. What he could understand even less was why Zeus had decided to put himself in the middle of an argument that was obviously between him and the Goddess. Well, there was actually very little arguing involved; mostly Hera becoming insanely enraged at him, and threatening to punish him with her "wraith". Zeus was probably just trying to appease Hera, so that she wouldn't take matters into her own hands later on and do something worse.

But what could be worse than having to live life out as a mortal? Nothing that he could conjure up at the present. He had already been to the Underworld, and back many times, and that defiantly was not nearly as bad as losing all of your godly powers. And for what; giving Hera a taste of something that she long deserved? The witch had had it coming; what did she bloody expect when she sent him to give a message to some Gods-forsaken nymph that was impossible for him to find; yes he was the messenger god, but he had limitations too.

Well, it was true that the miserable woman had always been difficult, but according to Zeus that still did not justify him having her dress light afire. It may have not been so bad if he had listened to Zeus the first time and put it out- he had made the fire so that only he could extinguish it, and no other god. But in his opinion, she had had it coming.

It had taken him awhile to regain all of the memories of what had happened on Mount Olympus that day. He had been born as a babe into the family of Phoenicians, who just like their ancestors, happened to be merchants. Ironic that they would be merchants at that, considering that he had been the god of commerce. In the seventeen years that he had spent there, they had never really felt at all like family to him; more like caregivers. It had been around his fifteenth birthday that he had begun to remember memories of his past on Mount Olympus; all of which he at first dismissed as dreams, but as they began to appear with more frequency, he began to take them as fact. Not to say that he did not still occasionally think himself mad, but they were just so believable to him.

His father's strong voice brought him out of his stupor. Well, not exactly his father; his care giver more or less, for in all of the years he had spent there, the man had not really shown much affection for him. He looked up at the man, to see that his father was not alone. There was another person with him, who looked to be of Roman blood; and even though he was short in stature, his presence dominated the port.

The man wore a beige coloured tunic and toga, which fit perfectly with his tanned skin and dark hair. Just from the way he stood, Cebrain could tell that the man was of nobility. Not that this was unusual of course; his father dealt with men of every social ranking on a day to day basis.

The man looked Cebrain up and down, in a manner that made the god-in-mortal- form very uncomfortable. It was as if the man felt he had a sense of ownership over him.

"Is this the boy you were talking about?" the Roman said, giving Cebrain another visual inspection.

"Yes" his father replied.

"Looks a bit scrawny to me; I am not quite sure that he will cover what you owe me" the other man replied.

Cebrain watched as his father clasped his hands together, and began to plead with the Roman. "Please sir, I am sure that giving you this boy will cover my debt"

Cebrain's eyes shot wide open with shock. This man was going to sell him? This man was going to sell he- Hermes the messenger god, god of commerce, bringer of the dead to the underworld. Did he know whom he was dealing with? If he could only get his godly powers back. Damn that Zeus for making him a mortal! This had probably been a part of his plan all along. Make him a mortal, and then make him a slave; yes, that was the way Zeus thought. And to make him a slave to a Roman master; by the gods, Romans vexed him so much, it was hard to describe. For starters, they had taken it upon themselves to rename him and all of his other fellow gods and goddesses; the exception being Apollo, what made him so special, he did not know.

But no matter how hard he tried, he could not get the thought out of his head. Sold to a Roman? Yes, they did worship him and all, but they were a bit too blood thirsty for his liking; always making war with other nations and peoples. He knew that he should have been grateful, but, it was just too hard.

The Roman raised his eyebrow questioningly at Cebrain.

"He can read and write fairly well" his father said, continuing his efforts to make the sale. "He can do sums and arithmetic. He can speak both Latin and Greek". Everything his father had just said had been true, except for the part about him being able to speak Latin. From what Cebrain could tell, his father was beginning to become very desperate.

The Roman man raised his hand, silencing Cebrain's father. "That is quite enough. Just give me the boy". Cebrain felt his father shove him towards the Roman from behind. The Roman then grabbed the teenager by his arm, and dragged him away from his father.

Cebrain shot a furtive glance at his father, whom had promptly walked off as soon as the sale was done. Cebrain figured that he must have known that something was very different about his son all along, something so strange that he was willing to exercise his right to sell him into slavery. Even though he was the god Hermes, he was still technically the man's son as well; although he had the spirit of a god, the man's human blood still ran through his veins. It still hurt o have his only father sell him into slavery.


The Roman man brought Cebrain before a high-sided ship. By looking up to see the three massive square sails, Cebrain was able to tell that the ship was a Roman merchant vessel. It was truly quite a remarkable ship.

The Roman led Cebrain up the gangplank, and onto the deck of the ship. The man then turned around to face the scared young man. He eyed him another time, before saying.

"My name is Aquila Aulus Fabius, and as I am certain you can already tell, I will be your master" the man said sternly. "What name do you go by?"

"Cebrain Gilgamesh" the boy replied.

His new master smiled and nodded. "Cebrain"

Author's Note: This is for my Latin project, so it isn't exactly the greatest. Read and Review and tell me if I can improve it!