Prologue
Rome. The Jewel of Western Civilization. Perfected over the centuries to stand with Olympus in its glory. The full moon illuminates the city in an ethereal glow. The massive form of the Colosseum casting deep shadows across the streets of Rome. Temples, dedicated to the gods, stood proud and majestic. A beautiful night, that's what the romans of old would have called it. A perfect night. A night where the people could enjoy the splendors of their great empire with their friends and colleagues. A peaceful night. Where families could spend the night together, telling stories of the great heroes of old.
One family in particular, was not having a peaceful night. A young mother cradled her infant son, leaning into the warm embrace of her husband. The couple stood just inside the large villa, conversing with another older couple in hushed voices.
"Must you go with him my daughter? The Emperor has only requested the Senators to attend," the older woman asked.
The young mother smiled, "Yes mother. The Emperor knows who my husband is and will not stop with just him. He will find me and if he finds out about our son he will kill him too. I must go with him, it is the only way to protect our son." Wrapped in a wool blanket, with a small fluff of black hair blanketing his head, the babe was sound asleep nestled in his mothers bosom. He knew not the hardships his parents would face, nor the hardships he would face in the years to come. The young mother's gaze drifts to her son, "You will grow into a great man one day. I love you," the mother said smiling before kissing her son's forehead.
"We will protect him. The Emperor will not know of his heritage I promise you," spoke the old man.
"I do not doubt he is in safe hands," the young father responds, "I just wish I could have raised him myself." He leaned over and lightly kissed the infants head, "Be safe my son and may the gods watch over you." The mother handed the infant to his grandmother, tears falling down her face. Her husband held her tighter and lead her away without a word.
The grandparents watched them climb into their carriage and proceed down the street towards the Curia Julia. Tears threatened to fall from their faces before they steeled themselves and returned to their home. They already had plans in motion.
-
The ride to the Curia Julia was an uneventful one. They passed many shops closing down for the night, young boys and girls ran the streets in fits of laughter. They arrived at the senate house late in the evening. The Colosseum loomed to the southeast while the Emperor's dazzling palace rose just to the west. The Curia Julia itself was a simple structure. A large square building with an overhang shielding the sidewalk. Columns twice the size of a man rose to meet the overhang. Four Praetorians stood by the massive front doors leading the Senators inside.
"By Jupiter, he's not even hiding it," the husband spoke, "this is going to be a bloodbath."
"My love, couldn't we just take our son and leave? Spend our lives away from the empire," asked his wife.
The young man shook his head, "The Emperor would never rest until he kills all the senators who opposed him. Even then, our son is destined to do great things. You remember the words of Lady Diana. He can not grow to the man he needs to be out in the country. He needs to be raised here."
His wife steeled her nerves, "Let us pray Lady Diana and Lord Jupiter watches over him."
The husband led his love into the Senate house. A cavernous room, decorated with ornate carvings along the walls and ceiling. Carvings, fanning out from the center of the ceiling showing the history of Rome. From Romulus and Remus in the center, to the most recent emperor. Massive pillars rose from the floor every twenty feet to meet the ceiling high overhead, torches rested on each pillar illuminating the room in orange light. Senators lined the benches to the left and right down the length of the room. Hushed whispers filled the large room, some looking around anxiously. The couple took their place in the middle of the right benches, waiting in silence for their fate.
Once all of the senators made it inside, the Praetorians shut the massive doors and locked it with a large wooden beam. A senator stood from the left side of the room, "What is the meaning of this?"
"Simple dear senator," a voice called from the back of the room. All heads turned as the emperor himself, Lucius Septimius Serverus, entered the room from the back in his lorica segmenata. The steel plating, bound in leather and trimmed in gold, gleamed in the flickering torch light. His dark brown hair streaked with grey, hazel eyes looked on cruelly at the senators. "There are those of you in this room who conspired against me with the traitorous Clodius Albinus. I am here to bring these conspirators to light and administer justice."
At the emperor's words several senators jumped from their seats and rushed the door. Their attempts to move the wooden beam failed as roman steel penetrated their chests from behind. The praetorian guards moved the bodies off to the sides of the doors leaving a long and dark blood path.
Septimius let out a hearty laugh, "Two down roughly thirty more to go. And for those who think they can escape. The building is surrounded by my guards, who have orders to kill on sight any who leaves here before I do. Please try and face your death with some dignity," the emperor asked. The eyes of the senators filled with dread as they glanced around nervously. "Now," the emperor began, "is there any who wish to step forward and admit their crimes? I promise it will be a swift and painless death."
The husband and wife exchanged glances, a silent conversation between the two. Their eyes filled with acceptance and stood together. They approached Septimius slowly hand in hand, dropping to their knees within five paces of the man they wished dead.
"We admit to no crimes other than ensuring the safety of Rome. We deemed Albinus to be a more favorable emperor for the empire. We will accept whatever punishment you deem fit," the husband stated. He stared into the emperor's eyes, an air of defiance rolled off of him in waves so potent that the senators almost were able to touch it.
The emperor glared at the two for a moment before an evil grin graced his features. "Of all the deaths I have planned, yours is the one I look forward to the most." He turned slowly around the room his hands raised, "Many of you may not know this. But decades ago a prophecy was proclaimed, one which spoke of the return of Rome's most precious bloodline. It was said, that the descendants of Romulus, the founder of Rome, would return and bring about a golden age for roman civilization." Septimius' hands fell, one resting on his hip, the other on the hilt of his sword. He turned back to face the two, "Rise Marcus Romulus Aquila. Let us see if this prophecy holds truth." A praetorian guard placed his gladius in front of Marcus.
The man takes the sword before standing protectively in front of his wife. "Even if I kill you. What's to stop your guards from slaughtering all of us," Marcus asked.
"Haha, why nothing of course," Septimius laughed, "in fact if I die they have orders to murder everyone in this room. No you are not fighting to survive, you are fighting to fulfill a prophecy ordained by the gods themselves!"
Septimius drew his gladius and lunged. Marcus managed to deflect the attack, the blow jarring his arms. Septimius kept his opponent on the defensive, making wild slashes and lunges, attempting to tire Marcus for the killing blow.
Marcus was never a soldier, but he had trained with swords for years. Those years of training were the only thing that had kept him alive at this point. Dodging, ducking, and parrying every strike the emperor threw at him, but he could not find an opening to go on the offensive. And he never got the chance.
Septimius feinted right and kicked Marcus in the chest as he went to block, Marcus' gladius skirted across the floor. Before he could recover the emperor planted his boot to the man's chest, restricting him. "So this is the prophesied savior," Septimius asked to seemingly no one, "the one who's suppose to save Rome? He couldn't even protect himself, let alone his beloved." The guards grabbed Marcus' wife and dragged her to his side. "And now you shall feel the wrath of the emperor. May all those who choose to defy me remember this day. The day I, Septimius Serverus, Emperor of Rome, defied a prophecy and proved himself beyond the will of the gods!" Septimius grabbed Marcus' wife, his beloved, the mother of his unknown son, by the hair and placed his sword at her neck. "Any last words for your husband dearest," Septimius asked, grinning with a mad glint in his eyes.
Tears fell from the woman's face, her electric blue eyes gazed at her husband lovingly. "Do not worry my love, we will see each other again in the realm of Pluto," she said before closing her eyes.
The emperor's grin widened, dragging his blade across her throat leaving a ragged line that cut deep into her flesh. The woman sputtered and choked, failing to bring the life giving air to her lungs before collapsing. Her blood soaked the ground and her husband's robes. Marcus cast his eyes to the floor unable to look upon the dead form of his beloved. A single tear fell down his face before looking at the emperor in defiance. Septimius lifted his foot from Marcus' chest and allowed him back to his knees.
"Get it over with you bastard," Marcus growled, "and may the gods curse you to fall just as you have risen."
Septimius paid him no heed and ran his sword through the chest of Marcus Romulus Aquila, the descendant of Romulus himself. His body collapsed next to his wife, their blood mixing together, longing to be together again even in death.
The emperor withdrew his sword, wiped it clean on Marcus' robes. And turned back to the senators, "Now," he began, "let us proceed with the persecution."
-
On the other side of Rome an infant rested in his bed. His brow furrowed as if in a nightmare. The moonlight filled his room, illuminating the boy's body in a soft silvery glow. At the foot of his crib stood a woman, tall and cloaked. Her auburn hair braided flowing down her left side but her hood covered her face. She leaned down and gently stroked the baby's hair, a satisfied smile gracing her features, "Don't worry little one," the woman said, her voice as soothing as a gurgling creek, "I will watch over you. And when the time comes, you will be the hand of Justice." Her form glowed silver as she vanished from the room leaving behind the scent of forest in her wake.
The boy's face relaxed and he entered a deeper sleep, dreaming of the day he could hear that voice again.