Birthright
Summary:
Holy Rome never died. He fulfilled his promise and returned to Italy, ruling alongside him as the most powerful empire in Europe. They were able to stay together, their love growing stronger as the years passed, with no impending war threatening them. Sounds sweet, right? It is, until you start to look deeper.
Never underestimate the blood of the Roman Empire.
A/N:
LionDancer17: so, this is a collaboration between LionDancer17 and Emo Vampire Chic. It's an idea we've been working on for a while, actually. We both have a specialty when it comes to dark empires, and this idea was just begging to be done. ;)
xxX(Prologue)Xxx
Fire pressed upon them, ashes drifting through the air, dancing like snowflakes in the wind. The land itself was scarred, painted black and crimson from the blood of humans, and the fire that roared through the land, greedily feasting upon the earth, destroying everything in its destructive storm.
Through it all, two armies stood. One was a bond forged from necessity and steel, bonds of love and fear tied them together. They fought for their freedom, for their right to live separate from the rest, for their right to live itself. They fought for themselves and each other, be it family or friendship that held them together, or even just strength in numbers.
The other was an army of right. They were marked by God, blessed with his strength, with the divine claim to power. They were descendants of power, it swam through their veins, like red laced with white. It was the thing that drove them, the thing that enabled them to conquer so much. They were God's army, his children marked with divine power.
At the front of them was a boy, almost a man. His dark robes fell over him like a veil, like silk set into flight by the power he held, the strength of most of Europe in his palm. The second was a boy his age, his amber eyes hardened to steel by the war he's seen. He carried the power of Rome at his fingertips, blessed with the power of the Empire before him.
And yet, there was something more in those golden eyes. A realization. A hesitance. A hint of innocence buried in their cold surface.
A different man stood at the front of the alliance, his cold blue eyes aged with much more than others could see. They were eyes that had seen empires rise and fall, eyes that had seen innocence and beauty burn, and eyes that had lost so much, but gained even more.
Those eyes had seen a woman truly blessed by God. He would not allow them to use her blessing, and twist it into some kind of false divine justice.
The boy cloaked in black raised his sabre, the light gleaming off of the metal, as if God was kissing its surface, ensuring its victory. Beside him, the boy with amber eyes held his cross in his fingers, praying for victory.
The two armies surged forward.
A dagger was drawn.
Blood was spilled.
And the boy with amber eyes began to cry.
XXXxxXXXxxxXXX
A/N
LionDancer17: Well, here's the prologue. Just to avoid confusion, it takes place later in the story. We still have a lot of plot to go through, please review!