Summer, Battlefield, Hill Top, Italia, Roman Empire

Lucius strode along the row of the first rank of his favorite century, those men that would lead his whole legion. He blinked a few times – the glint of the sunlight off the metal of the lorica was piercing his eyes. He turned his head, looking over the grassy valley where he planned the primary battle to take place. The slight breeze ruffled the red horsehair in the crest of his galea. Lucius closed his eye and took the helmet off, letting the air move through his hair and the heat of the sun warm his skin. He put the helmet back on; he looked forward to the next time he would feel that calm again - when he took it off after this victory. He turned back to his troops, continuing his final inspection.

His caligae crunched the dirt clumps along the ground as he passed. Lucius' eyes narrowed: someone was out of place. He marched up to the man. "Quintus …." Quickly, the man stepped back, lowering his head in acknowledgment of his mistake. Lucius nodded, then noticed movement to his left. Glaring at Aulus, the man straightened back up.

Lucius placed his hand on his gladius, then resumed the path down the line. "This is another mission, another time our Emperor, Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, has given to us to carry his colors into battle." He paused while the men clanked their scutum, the heavy shields making a loud noise. Lucius grinned as he continued, "Now, I don't know about you, but I have sworn an oath to defend the Senate and the Roman people. And," he held up his hand for silence, "we will win the honor of going back home again, in triumph!" The roar of the men silenced the end of his speech.

As the men continued, Lucius went over to the nearest signiferi. Sisenna, bearskin over his lorica, held the pole to which many medallions and a metal she-wolf were attached, topped with a silver open hand. Standing next to him was the aquilifer, Gnaeus, the lion fur marking him as the most important individual in this battle, that and the standard he bore – the pole topped with the golden eagle of Rome. Lucius indicated that the pole was leaning, and Gnaeus corrected it. No one, not even he, could touch the pole, only the aquilifer while that man was still alive. "Remember, no explanation, no excuse will matter after we begin." Lucius leaned in, continuing the ritual statements. "Lose our standard to the enemy, and everyone here is dishonored, permanently disgraced."

"I understand, General," Gnaeus barked. "Our honor will not fall."

"Good." He turned away, looking again at the valley, his scouts having reported that the enemy was slightly beyond the tree line. Lucius felt within him something uncoil, something dark that was usually buried within, but rose up when survival was necessary. He knew this was his calling and that it was finally time. "Now, those unfortunate foes will discover a war they were never going to win." He pounded Gnaeus on the back, signaling the start. The aquilifer raised his pole, rallied the soldiers, then started down the hill. The men followed, eager for battle and to protect the unarmed standard bearers. The marching sound of the men-

"Lucius Spurius Flava gnatus Vopiscus!"

A spike of fear shot through his chest as Lucius, breathing rapidly, stiffly turned around.

39 / 792 AUC, Lupanar, Pompeii, Italia, Roman Empire

Lucius heard Dexsius Avunculus yell for him again. Squinting in the sunlight, he looked around, but the voice was too close to the only exit for him to make a successful escape. The fence next to him was too high and smooth to quickly climb. A moment later, his master was at the side entrance, and Lucius was trapped.

"What are you doing out here? Get up out of the dirt and attend your duties before I whip you again."

Lucius scrambled up, grabbed the tattered edges, and adjusted his thin green woolen tunic. He looked back longingly at his legion.

Dexsius Avunculus advanced, his hand up. "Go, boy." The child glared at him defiantly, then ran past. He managed to smack Lucius' head, and the boy stumbled slightly. "And don't forget to use fresh water for your bowl each time."

Lucius clenched his eyes shut and pressed his lips together to keep from crying out. Rounding the corner, he bumped into someone. He looked up in fear – such an action would get him a severe beating from both the man and his master. The man was a soldier, hand already upon his pugio, prepared to draw it out. Lucius feared the worst.

"Lucius?" He saw the young boy nod. "Run along, Lucius." The boy wasted no time and was off. Curious, he went around the corner, where the child had been, to see what was going on. "Everything alright, Dexsius?"

Dexsius Avunculus turned around. "I just don't know what I'm going to do with that one."

"I did think it odd you had a boy here. Is he …."

"No, no, Remmius Crus," Dexsius assured his patron. "We do not offer children in this house. He's one of my aquarioli, but as you can see, he is here instead of attending his duties of washing and cleansing."

Remmius looked over; his attention was caught by a small dirt area with rocks of various sizes perfectly lined up. Two stones were separate, twigs implanted upright into the soil next to them. "Looks like soldiers in their rows and some standard bearers," he chuckled.

"He likes pretending he's a General and they are his men."

Remmius nodded in understanding. As a boy, he had done the same thing with his play, pretending to be a master of war. "He's Flava's boy?"

Dexsius smiled. "Yes, and she is eagerly waiting for you."

Remmius waved his hand dismissively. "And I will see her in due time. I am intrigued – I thought it was encouraged in places like this to be rid of children, especially boys. Why did you not expose him since his twin had died? Why specifically keep him?"

Dexsius hesitated, then relented: Remmius paid well. "Flava took the correct herbs, and one was stillborn; however, Lucius survived. As for exposure, I will not defy the gods on this matter. Apollo chose for him to survive the poison."

"Why would Apollo care for one sibling but not the other?"

"Flava claimed on the same night she took both a Pompeius and Apollo, disguised as a man. The son of Jupiter could be the boy's father."

"The twinning god?" Remmius looked around the small yard and took in the building, its purpose clear from the signs and graffiti everywhere. "Here?"

"His temple is not far away. I decided to not bring that god's wrath upon me and permitted the child to live. But," Dexsius explained while pointing to the dirt, "he often plays with pebbles, which is probably why you have not seen him in your previous visits."

Remmius looked at the rocks again. He experienced enough of the world to know gods did not bother with prostitutes. And powerful families could legitimize sons when they had no other living ones. He, meanwhile, was getting older and had no sons of his own. "The child has potential. The gens Pompeia - do you think that family would want to claim Lucius?"

Dexsius shook his head. "I doubt they even know of the boy. And who would want a prostitute's child anyway? He's illegitimate, a slave, and will always remain someone's slave unless the gods intervene. That is the way life is."

"Perhaps then I will claim him. He could be a fine soldier like me, if he lives to take off the bulla."

"He will live," Dexsius assured the patron. "When he was younger, all the children I had here became very ill. I thought the boy would die as all the girls had, and as many children naturally do in youth. But he survived." Dexsius scowled. "Lucius always survives."

"Favored by Apollo," Remmius pointed out. "The god brings disease but also delivers the cure for those deemed worthy."

"Favored or not, I admit I would be glad to be rid of the boy. He unnerves me. Those pale blue eyes of his …." Dexsius shook his head. "Enough with this for now. Flava awaits, and later you can stay and be cleansed, allowing you to fully relax and enjoy some drinks and music."

"Music would be nice. You don't get good music out on marches."

"Then Lucius Remmius Crus, come," Dexsius began as he put an arm around the soldier and started moving towards the entrance.

"That's too formal, my friend; just call me Lucius."

"As you wish. You will also probably be surprised - my Lucius plays Apollo's cithara very well."

49 / 802 AUC, Training Barracks, Italia, Roman Empire

"Come on you tirones! Based on this, no one will ever give you weapons! I've half a mind to not waste my time giving you your wooden training ones!" He pushed the straggler at the end of the line forward. "You think the enemy is something to be feared? I am worse than any enemy you will face! Move!" The commanding officer handed his cane to another trainer. "Use this to remind Mettius why he needs to run faster next time he falls behind."

"Yes, Bavius."

Paullus Bavius headed over to the hall where the older recruits were training, those that had mastered marching and were already able to handle their heavy wooden training weapons. He went to find where a particular contubernium was working out – there was one individual he wanted to check on.

Nearing the arena, he went through the assembled recruits to observe what was happening in the cleared center. There, his weapons instructor was practicing with the one Paullus had been seeking. The bruised young man held his wooden sword steady. The trainer lunged, and the recruit backed off, the sword steady. Paullus could see the determination in Lucius' blue eyes and that backing away wasn't yielding, just a move to place him in a better offensive position. Paullus did not have to wait too long, as Lucius switched the training sword to his left hand and then shot the weapon towards its target. The surrounding circle of men let out appreciative roars for the fight, and the man turned around to the crowd. But the young tiron still had much to learn, and Paullus watched as the trainer attacked, catching the young man from behind and crashing them both to the ground, ending the mock battle. Paullus moved into the circle. "Good, but always remember, as long as you are not dead, you will be a continuous threat to your opponent. You must-"

Paullus had to quickly side-step as a body flung past him. Turning back to the other side of the fighting area, he saw Lucius rising, a terror to behold, his eyes darkly glinting. The circle of men widened; they felt it too. Paullus smiled – this is what he had seen the beginnings of when Lucius first arrived and was glad it was developing. "This," he said to the gathered crowd, "is what we want: that we will not be bested. We will not be stopped. We will become invincible, indestructible, and every broken enemy before us will learn that at their end!" As the group cheered, Paullus Bavius turned once again to look at Lucius. He would help make this one a master of war.

59 / 812 AUC, Tigranocerta, Armenia, Client Nation of the Roman Empire

"He is here, General."

Gnaeus Domitius Corbulo glanced up from the manuscripts on his desk and motioned for the summoned man to be admitted. He looked back down on his desk, rifling through the items. In his periphery, he saw when the soldier entered. Finally, he found the note he had been looking for. "Lucius Remmius Crus Spurianus Vopiscus." Corbulo leaned back in his chair and took in the sight of the man. He noted the straight, stiff posture and the unsettling blue eyes.

"General, you summoned me?"

"Yes," Corbulo began as he rose from his seat. "I know all my men, and I would have remembered you. You are not one from my legions, are you?"

"No, sir. I am part of the detachment from the Legio X Fretensis."

Corbulo glanced at his notes. "Personally selected by your Centurion. Why did you agree?"

Lucius frowned in confusion. "I fight for whatever cause my Emperor and Commander decree. I have sworn to protect-"

"No other reason than that?" Corbulo interrupted.

"Experience." Lucius stood perfectly still as the General walked around him.

"You are dedicated." The General ran his finger down the page. "Disciplined, and kept the other legionarii together and did not ever break formation at Araxata. On the march to Tigranocerta, you were rigorous in your duties. You assisted in uncovering the plot to murder me and tracked down many of the men involved in the planning. And personally killed a few of them. Your past Centurions, Pilus Prior, and a Prefect all comment on your actions and abilities."

"I carry out my orders."

"And no regrets?"

"I have not been ordered to have such."

Corbulo grinned. "What is your goal, Lucius, after this assignment?"

"I desire to be an aquilifer, General." Lucius saw the General shake his head. "I am brave. I will not let the Eagle fall into enemy hands-"

"It's not about bravery, Lucius," Corbulo stated. "Holding the standard in the middle of the battle with no weapons, rallying the men, being the main target for the enemy … I have no doubt you have courage and ability enough for that role. But you have other skills, skills it is time to start truly using for your Emperor." He stood in front of the young man. "You have no hesitation, naturally commanding the people around you. I also hear your tactics are exemplary, and, as a true master of war, you have never lost a game of ludus latrunculorum." Corbulo snapped his fingers, then heard scuttling as the soldier posted outside left on his appointed errand.

Lucius stood still, but within his emotions were raging. He wasn't sure what he should be feeling at the moment. He had always thought he had known what he wanted, but General Corbulo's remarks opened new possibilities. "What is being considered?"

"Command. Of a small group to begin with. I am requesting you be assigned to the Legio XIV Gemina stationed in Brittania, under General Gaius Suetonius Paulinus. You will report to Antoninus Cordus in Viroconium - he will give you your assignment and your men. There are some tribes that are resisting us," Corbulo explained as he dropped the note back onto the piles on the desk. "This needs to be struck down. They want a war but have no concept what a war with Rome means."

"I do not know what to say, General." Lucius had never thought he would be assigned so far from the core of the Empire, but a command was something he was warming up to. He heard a rustle, then stepped aside as a soldier brought in a game board and pieces. Placing them down upon a small side table, the man left, and once again, just him and the General occupied the room.

"You need to know," Corbulo calmly stated as he set up the latrunculin board, "you will be in for the fight of your life."

Lucius glanced down at the board. "The Britannia tribes or the game?"

Corbulo sat down and contemplated his first move. "Both."

28 Oct 79 / 831 AUC, Near Casilinum between the Via Appia and Via Latina, Italia, Roman Empire

Divia carefully walked toward the thick group of trees. She could barely feel her father, her son. She had taken a couple of days to finally track him down, feeling him slowly grow weaker, then quickly decline. She reached the edge of the trees, then entered under their canopy. Filtered moonlight illuminated the space, more than enough for her to see. Divia followed the vibration, the pulling link, that would bring her to him.

She found her son where the mortal soldiers that had been hunting them had left him. Divia knelt down beside the thick tree, Lucius sitting beside her on the ground. She reached over and felt the three wooden stakes that had been driven through him, firmly pinning him to the tree trunk. He had endured cruciare, reserved for slaves, betrayers, and non-citizens. Divia dropped her hand. He was none of those, yet he had to endure that degradation.

She had told him separating was wrong, but the General had insisted, forcing them to part ways. Lucius had been correct, she had been able to hide easier, and they only pursued him, but this was not the ending she wanted. Less than a week after helping her father escape Vesuvius' deadly fire and ash, she was unwilling to accept his death now.

She glanced up into the starry sky visible around the leaves, then listened around her. She heard no prey, human or beast. Divia refocused on her son. "Father," she coaxed, "Father?" Lucius' eyes slightly moved under their lids, but otherwise, he was still. But their link vibrated more, so she was encouraged. Fangs extended, Divia sliced her wrist, then pressed the wound against his parted lips. She held this position for a considerable amount of time before feeling sharp pain and blood flowing out of her. She let her offspring drink deeply; he would require the strength for what would happen next.

Divia stood, and with both hands, gripped the stake in his right shoulder. Lucius responded to the wood shifting, and he tried to move but was still impaled and locked into place. She partially closed her eyes, concentrating on their link until he calmed down. Then she yanked out the stake. Ignoring his hoarse screams of pain, Divia pulled out the one near his right hip. After tossing it aside, she returned to Lucius to comfort and reassure him, providing her wrist again though she was weakened from the last time providing to him.

After a few moments, she pulled her wrist away and looked at him. Crimson eyes stared back, the eyes of the terrible destroyer hidden deep under their skin. Divia smiled. "Father, you taught me every enemy needed to be broken. That they needed to believe their annihilator was invincible. We are invincible. We are gods that tread upon the earth. We are the ultimate predators." She looked at the last stake. "General Lucius Crus, they declared war, so let us hunt these enemy soldiers as they did us. And in their last moments while alive, let them look upon a truly indestructible master of war." Divia watched as Lucius weakly raised up his arm and gripped the last stake near his heart, then, snarling, ripped it out.