I Used to Rule the World: Story of Ancient Rome
Chapter 1: Etruria and Me
Part I:
Northern Italy was kind to Etruria. The Apennines brought plenty of rain to the region by stopping the clouds moving east. The fertile soil nurtured the plants while the radiant sun nourished them.
It was on such a bright day when Etruria, a stately young woman, was out gathering herbs. Her brown locks of hair was tied back and pinned to keep it from sweeping into her face. They were braided and adorned with colorful ribbons, looking out of place for a rustic farmer girl like her. Her eyes, however, spoke experience of the world. Etruria had seen much since its start and being the sharp girl she was, Etruria learned from what happened.
Moving through the forest quietly, Etruria's brown eyes scanned the surroundings. She spotted the Tiber River in the distance, its flow glinting in the afternoon sun. The, a sharp-bladed leaf of an herb caught her attention and she moved to pick it, adding it to the woven basket she carried with one hand.
Something fumbling through the foliage attracted her attention, and Etruria turned. She was surprised to see a young brown haired boy tumble out of the bushes, dragging a log. Surprised, she kept watching him struggle with his load before he noticed that she was there.
"Oy, just who do you think you are looking at me like that?" the boy shouted, his amber eyes narrowed with suspicion.
Etruria was a bit annoyed with his behavior. Being bigger and older than him, she looked at him square in the eye without quailing. "Excuse me, but who do you think you are?" she retorted.
Swelling up his thin chest, the boy touted, "I am Rome!"
Rome? When had she heard of that place? Could it be that little upstart tribe down in Latium? Etruria looked at Rome, her eyes contemplating.
"I'm Etruria," she replied simply. She glanced pointedly at the log that Rome was toting. "What are you doing with that?"
"I'm building my city! We need these logs to support the buildings since it's close to the river…" Rome sighed. Some of his bravado and luster was gone now. Cocking his head towards the river, he shook his head. "Every time we build something, it always sinks into the ground. It's too swampy, but that's where the gods decreed where my people should build their city."
The young woman pitied the boy. "Hm. Swampy land? I know a solution, Rome," she answered, sympathetically. "My cities were built on land like yours, but we drained it first. That provides some firm ground for buildings to be sturdy upon. I can help you get started."
Unknown to her, this day was a momentous day in history. Rome would not only take the technology of draining swamps from his neighbor, but also take their first form of writing from them. Etruscan engineering skills would also be applied to future Roman projects as well. With Etruria having superior technology and infrastructure than Rome, Etruscan Kings soon reigned over Rome. However, some Romans were rather disgruntled by the foreign leadership.
Part II:
Like the sun sets, every great nation must fall. After suffering a couple of defeats against other Italian tribes and Ancient Greece in Sicily, Etruria's leadership had weakened in Rome. It was prime time for revolution.
At the time which the sun sets, Rome, now a teenager, leaned against a pillar in the forum. He was older now and a bit wiser at least. His eyes were on the residence of Lucius Tarquinus Superbus in the distance. Already, a rough and ready rabble gathered behind him, enraged at the rape of Lucretia. They were chafing under the yoke of Etruscan dominance.
Lucius Junius Brutus stood behind him, shaking his head. "Rome, sir. Lucretia, wife of Collatinus, has committed suicide out of shame. Collatinus promised to usurp the kings for her…" he reported, bowing his head. "It's time."
"Etruria, it's time for us to lead ourselves," Rome commented. He nodded his head curtly at Brutus and proceeded to strap on a bronze helmet. The cheek flaps that protected the sides of his head framed his face, no longer boyish but hardened in the fires of war. The shadows from the setting sun cast shadows on his face, giving him a toughened look. He gathered his cloak about him, his hand resting on the sword.
Although Rome considered Etruria his older sister of sorts, he still didn't want her dominating her people anymore. Like siblings, they often had arguments, which continued as Rome grew older. With the Etrsucan prince raping a Roman woman, that was certainly the last straw the Romans would take from King Tarqiun, who scorned their culture.
"Enim populi Romanum!" Rome shouted and whipped the blade out of the scabbard. He pointed it at the sword, and the disgruntled noblemen who had gathered to usurp the king charged the castle with their militia.
Fire lit up the night sky as the rabble engaged the Etruscan guards. Some of them, Roman born and bred, turned upon their employers, hacking down Etruscans whenever they were seen. Blood splattered the stately halls of the villa, and for that night, it was a slaughterhouse, a charnel of suppressed hate.
"Brutus! Collatinus! Rein the men in! We are not here to slaughter, but to drive them out!" Rome roared. The massacre sickened him for he did not advocate for wanton slaughter! However, the hate that erupted from the Roman populace was too great for them to embrace their famed discipline.
"Rome! What is this?"
The accusation brought him around, facing a blood-drenched Etruria. Those who said that women couldn't fight were always rebuked by Rome, as Etruria was almost as good, if not better, than him. She was blocking the passageway towards the king's chamber, where, as Rome could see, Tarquin and his family were making use of the time to escape.
"My people don't need your help anymore, Etruria," Rome answered steadily. His troops parted ways for him to pass through them and towards the other nation. He sheathed his sword, showing that he meant her no harm and did not wish to fight.
Etruria stiffened, using her land to push her hair back from her eyes. "This could've been peaceful. There was no need for this," she commented bitterly, her brown gaze on the bloodied, crumpled body of a young servant girl.
"Your prince raped one of our women. Your king laughs at our customs," he retorted hotly, moving forward a bit aggressively. Who said there was no need for this? The Etruscans had it coming all along. "Your violence brought upon ours."
"I'm sorry, Rome," she replied simply. She let out a yell in the Etruscan language, so alien from the Indo-European tongue that Latin was. Immediately, what remaining loyal palace guards surrounded her with the living Etruscans and they exited the villa after the king.
Turning to his own people, Rome had a slight smile on his face, a smile of bitterness at the loss of a friend and of triumph at the independence of his people. "This is the twilight of the old monarchy, and the start of a new Republic!" he declared, raising his sword high into the air.
With the end of one power was the dawn of another.