Ave, Imperator, morituri te salutant.

Deep, dark galactic orbs drank in the sea of people in the stands.

His people.

And his ears beheld the sound of their madness.

Of chaos.

The crowd gathered, whipped into such a frenzy for the spectacle to come.

To the day's entertainment he would be providing to them.

Watching with them, as the scenes of war and battle and savagery played out for all of them to see.

And lean, beautifully paled features remained unmoved by their cries and delirium, though his heart thrummed in his chest towards this fervent celebration.

This feeling.

The sounds of their love and adoration.

None of the sweetest plumb wines in the farthest reaching corners of his lands had ever had this affect on him.

But their love for him?

He was drunk on it.

Yes.

They loved him.

'Akito?'

This calming voice stirred him from his thoughts as he watched the bird he had been viewing from the trees take flight into the cloudless sky. And he turned his head towards the call of his name, a reserved expression along his face. The expression of his instructor was kind to his silence, though. The man offering him a warm smile as he sat next to him in the garden of the Emperor's castle.

Though the interior of this vast estate boasted the most beautiful wood and stone, the architecture unlike anything this country had ever seen, he found that this spot was his favorite. And he often came here in search of peace and solitude.

The two sat in silence a moment, watching how the warm breeze of late spring gently touched the blooms of the nearby cherry blossom grove. How the fragrant scent of their blooms made its way to them like a lover's whispered secret.

Yes.

This was his favorite spot.

'How are you feeling today, child?' The man asked, his words warm and tender towards the delicate nature of his health.

'Kazuma.' He whispered lightly, only the faintest lift of his lips revealing his appreciation of the man's concern. 'I am a man, now. You know that. And you would do well to address me as such.' His instructor gave a light chuckle to this gentle, goodnatured scolding.

Though he was only 16 years of age, this statement rang true enough. He was a man. His noble nature and status as the single heir to this country's throne had made this so. He was no longer afforded the leniency of childhood. And, as of late, the responsibilities of his place as his father's only son weighed heavily on him.

His father.

He loved his father.

Everyone loved his father.

His father was a great man.

A fearsome leader of vast armies of men that would gladly lay down their lives for him in times of war with their enemies.

A benevolent ruler of his people in a nation that thrived and prospered in times of peace.

Yes.

His father was a great man.

A man who's only misfortune was having sired such a sickly son as himself.

An heir of feeble health.

His birth had been so greatly anticipated. Yet his arrival into this world had been so violently traumatic that it had irreparably damaged his mother, leaving her unable to bear another son for her king.

A better son.

And she reminded him of this constantly when his father was away on military campaigns.

But despite his many shortcomings, he desperately wished to one day become worthy of continuing his father's great legacy. He wished for the people of this country to love him just as much as they loved his father. One day. When he took his rightful place on the throne.

...would they love him..?

'This is what I wish to speak to you about.' The man murmured lightly, the seriousness of his voice drawing the attention of rich onyx eyes. 'The Emperor will be launching another military campaign in a month's time. And,' This came a light pause as he listened with anticipation. 'he has requested my services by his side.'

'You're leaving me?' And the man smiled to this as he gently tousled thick, inky black hair.

'Only for a while, child.' He was assured by his instructor, and this time he did not correct the man's words.

'But,' He spoke, his dark eyes narrowing along his teacher. 'who will instruct me while you are away with my father?' His voice grew a bit harsh as he stared at the man. 'If I am to one day become a great leader like my father, then my instruction cannot be neglected.'

'I know this.' The man murmured reassuringly. 'Which is why I have already arranged to have others instruct you in commerce and the needs of the people.' He said. 'And I have personally selected someone for you. To instruct you in combat while I am away.'

'Who will be teaching me to fight?' This fell dubiously from lips held in a taut line of displeasure. 'You are this country's best military tactician, Kazuma.' He said. 'If I'm to learn anything of value, it must be from you.'

'Believe me,' The man spoke calmly. 'I have taken great pains to secure you appropriate tutelage while I am away.' He said. 'It will be as if you were still receiving instruction from me personally.'

He looked to his instructor, dubious to the man's claim. And Kazuma just smiled to him before placing his fingers against his lips to let out a shrill whistle into the air. A call that heralded the arrival of someone within the confines of the estate. One who had seemed to be waiting for this signal to appear and enter into the garden. And Akito turned his head towards the movement from his peripheral.

His eyes beheld a child. A boy. Years younger than himself and dressed in attire that indicated he hailed from one of the outlining villages of his father's empire. His clothing of a lesser woven fabric. His hair slightly disheveled and unevenly cropped. His head crowned with a thin cord of beads and decorative feathers that seemed intertwined into his unruly boyish mop. His face just beginning to lean and shed its infantile weight as it gave way to the very beginnings of adolescence. Yet, dark amethyst eyes seemed to hold a wisdom beyond his young years.

'Meet your new instructor.' He heard Kazuma murmur next to him as he beheld this child not yet a man before those dark orbs drifted towards Kazuma.

'What manner of jest is this, Kazuma.' He spat as he stood from the garden's bench, his voice unamuzed and loud enough for the boy to hear.

'This is no jest, Akito.' The man said, standing with him as the two looked upon the child in question. 'He is who I have chosen for you.'

'He is the best you could find for me, Kazuma?' He raised his voice to his instructor. 'You leave me with a child to teach me?' His tone came accusatory as he looked from the boy to his teacher. 'Has he even seen battle?!'

'Have you, my Lord?'

The soft lull of this child's sardonic question caused dark obsidian eyes to snap back towards the one who had so boldly spoken out of turn.

'What did you say to me..?' This came in challenge as he stared the child down, his expression set in stone as the boy bravely stared back at him, unafraid.

'I said,' The boy uttered just as softly as he had spoken the first time, his voice filled with confidence. 'have you seen battle, my Lord?'

'How dare you...' He uttered against the child's bold audacity. 'You know who I am, and you speak to me like this?' He slowly stalked towards the boy, his expression hardened as he came to stand over a head above the child in height and stature. 'The only one who has dared to speak to me in such a manner,' He said with a small pause. 'who I have ever allowed to speak to me with such an audacious tongue,' His words came as cold as his dark stare to the child. 'is my kid-cousin.' He said. 'Because he is kin to me, and he knows no better to watch his tongue.'

The moment came filled in tense silence. The two staring each other down. Regarding each other tentatively through blank, unreadable expressions. Neither one seeming to back down and yield to the other. The boy's lack of reverence towards the Emperor's only son going strangely unchecked and unpunished for the moment as he fell under the gaze of dark onyx eyes.

'And it seems,' These words came breathed in an almost pained sigh of irritation. 'he still hasn't learned the value of holding his tongue in my presence.'

In the brief, tense silence that followed this statement, Akito opened his long arms. Not to strike the child down for his insolence, but to welcome him. And the boy's expression split into a wide grin as he ran to him and embraced him. Both laughing as the man watching them gave a softly chuckled smile.

'Cousin!' The boy exclaimed in Akito's loving embrace as Akito smiled down at the child.

'Yuki.'

'I did not think you would recognize me!' And Akito laughed to this statement.

'Thought you could fool me, did you?' Akito said as the child grinned up at him. 'It has been many years, cousin. And though you have grown and changed before my very eyes, I would recognize that untamable tongue of yours anywhere.'

He released the child, grasping him by the slender shoulders to better appraise his face.

'So..' He said. 'you are the one to teach me of battle and war?'

'Yuki has grown strong.' He heard Kazuma speak of his cousin from behind him. 'In all of my years, I have never seen one with such skill and promise.' Kazuma said. 'You would be wise to take his counsel, Akito. There is much he can teach you.'

'One day,' Yuki murmured, large innocent eyes looking up to his older cousin and the heir to the throne. 'when I am older and you are ruler, I will gladly go into battle with you, my Lord.' He said, his boyish expression candid and honest. 'I will not hesitate to lay down my life for you.' He uttered. 'I would die for you, my Lord.' The little boy gave this pledge of his allegiance and loyalty to his future king as dark black orbs regarded him with a mixture of warm sadness and pride.

'That is very brave, little cousin. But I do not wish that of you.' He murmured this lightly to the boy. 'Do not die for me. The loss of your life will ill serve me.' He said as he smiled upon the child's face.

'What shall you have me do, then, my Lord?' The boy asked with anticipation of the answer.

'Live for me, Yuki.' This came the boy's instruction and royal command as Akito smiled warmly upon him. 'I would ask that you live for me, my brother.'

Dark thick lashes fluttered closed to the ravenous applause of the eager spectators. The moment he had found what they wanted. What they craved. He gave it to them. Again. And again. In a grand display of battle and bloody carnage, he gave it to them for their eyes to feast upon. And they applauded him for it.

They loved him.

A slow smile crept along thin, pale lips and shaped features older than the sixteen year old he had once been. Older, leaner, and more beautifully aged into mature manhood as he leaned towards the woman reclining next to him. Not quite twice his age, but close, and just as exquisite in her feminine beauty as himself. And those lips parted to whisper in the woman's ear so there could be no doubt that she heard his words above the ruckus of the crowd.

"Do you hear them, Queen Mother?" He whispered in a chilling voice deepened with masculinity. "They cheer for me." Lips brushed along the woman's ear as she listened to the words of her spiteful son. "They love me." He said in the faintest whispered breath as he grasped her hand with long fingers. "And I hope that these sounds of adoration for me infiltrate your dreams when you sleep at night." His hand squeezed hers possessively in order to ensure that she were listening to him. "That the sound of them fills your mind until there is nothing left to hear but this." He said. "How much they love me. And know," The voice in the woman's ear dropped lower and colder. "that all this time, you were wrong."

Lips moved away from the sensitive shell of the woman's ear. The two regarded each other a moment. Both pale. Both beautiful. Both with eyes as dark and black as the deepest abyss.

Mother and son.

Both bound together in pain, loss, and mystery. Linked by flesh and blood and hatred. Sharing in the glory of the throne with royal standing as King and Queen Mother.

As the savage screams of the people reached a crescendo, dark orbs looked away, down into the stadium where brave men dressed in battle armor entered the stage. Gathered from the vast corners of the empire, armed and ready for war.

Not war with the enemies of this great nation.

No.

But war with each other.

To entertain the people.

And the crowd loved him for it.

As the people cheered for the fighters, the brave warriors turned to him. Faced him as he sat in power and glory, dressed in white robes and crowned in a wreath of gold. He gazed down upon them with eyes dark and cold as they all placed a fist to their plated chests.

Obsidian eyes met those of a dark lavender lilac. And through the sun that beat down upon the prized fighters in the stadium, those amethyst eyes held such a lack of warmth for the beloved Emperor. No love was there in those eyes. Only a sense of bitter betrayal, and a single question.

'What shall you have me do, then, my Lord?'

And in unison, the warriors spoke as one in a loud battle cry.

"Hail, Emperor! Those who are about to die salute you!"


A/N: So, welcome! This story is wholly inspired by the movie 'The Gladiator' as well as the incredibly epic song, '300 Violin Orchestra' by Jorge Quintero. But, that being said, it is suppose to have a Roman Empire feel, set in feudal Japan. And the quote at the very beginning to kick off this story is Latin. And was translated in the story. 'Hail, Emperor, those who are about to die salute you.'

So, this story may be a little bit of a slow burn with slow updates. But it is an idea that I've wanted to do for quite some time!