Viatrix weakly pulled herself up the sandy shore, shaking uncontrollably in her winter sea-soaked clothing, and unaware how the little air making it through to her lungs managed to sustain her. Her body, which she had but moments ago sworn would never feel a thing again, erupted in flame as the ocean wind ripped across the beach. Quickly she wrapped her long coat around her. She had no idea how she's gotten to the beach. The vision of her fallen friends was all she could see. The sounds of their final stand was all she could remember. The moment the scorpion ballista had blown their ship to bits. Desmond. Elizabeth. Valkyrie. Braden...Everyone who'd she'd set out with to squelch the rebellion-they themselves squelched by the accursed child of Minerva, but moments ago to her.
If only Rome had burned in a day...
Viatrix peeked out oh her coat. There was a group of people walking down the beach toward her. At first she assumed them to be demigods, patrolling the beaches in order to save the one girl who'd escaped, but they weren't dressed for war. Not like the other's. She could see a few articles of clothing that seemed atypical of the average 18th century colonist, but she couldn't help but hope this to be her way out. Her father had a way with events and happenstance. Maybe they would help.
But in case not... She summoned her pocketwatch. It appeared in her hand sooner than she expected.