I knew this dream well. I had variations of it every night, once I stood before New Rome as nothing but columns and cinders and other times I acted as Octavian's hound in dispensing his reign of terror. Though different, all of my dreams confirmed my greatest fears; the loss of another home and me being bound to Octavian by law, blood and body. Tonight's dream began as it always did, in the forum. Under usual circumstances the forum was bustling with men, women and children but in my dream a frightening silence clung onto the city like a wet cloth. I made my way through the New Rome's serpentine streets and tiers- made in case of invasion, searching for something or someone lost, for what reason I did not know. My search ended at the entrance of a hacienda, my old home, a jarring sight amid the stucco walls and Romanesque architecture of New Rome. Paralyzed by my own fear, I looked down at my body and found myself dressed in the clothes I wore when me and my sister fled Puerto Rico, a simple billowy white dress and worn sandals. I no longer embodied the image of a hardened Praetor I spent years trying to construct. I was my truest self again, Reyna, a weak little girl who'd rather run away from her past then deal with it. I stood at the door of my ghosts.

"Open it". A voice beckoned. Trembling, I put my hand to the door's knob and gave it a sharp turn, revealing a darkness so malevolent that it looked alive. I decided that it could engulf me whole.

"Come to us". The eerie voice from before called. All souls have their roots. This is your home, return to it.

"No." I said, my voice trembling from fright. "The things that happened here. The things I did. This place was never a home... it was a prison."

"Yet you run from it so," the voice taunted. "What of Aiaia, was it not bathed in flames? Whose to say this place isn't next. Camp Jupiter is nothing if not a glorified prison. Rome will fall and you will be without a home again." A dream was all it was but my fear was palpable, rising higher then I knew possible by the second. I hugged myself tightly and in my periphery visions of the dead materialized before me. I knew them well for they were another constant in my life. They stood all around me, some wailing, others only laughing, the similarity between all of them being their rage and despair that tethered them to me. They wanted me to be with them, and I would, in due time.

"Murderer." One of the ghosts, the conquistador, spat out.

"Traitor. If you had any honour in you you would've let them kill you for your crimes. That's what a true Roman would've done."

"It should be your head the Romans should be vying for, father-slayer."

"She left her people forfeit all because a man she cared about was on that accursed boat." Another ghost snickered. "All while she dares to parade herself in armour like a Roman centurion. A true Roman does not feast with the enemy, nor does she give her heart out as easily."

"There is not a single man in the legion unscathed by her advances I bet," a ghost in legionary armour barked.

"A true Roman would kill themselves after such failure."

Together, the voices of the ghosts formed a cacophony of shrieks and taunts until a voice, distinct in its singularity drowned them all out. I recognized it as the voice that greeted me before, but strained of its disembodied quality so I could give it name and face. It was a voice I knew as intimately as my own. As frozen and desolate as deep winter and as sharp as a whiplash. It belonged to my father.

At the sound of his voice I lost whatever was left of my will and the darkness of my surroundings called and then lunged out as my father so often did on the days I misbehaved. In his wake I became of the same ilk of my demons; a hollowed out vessel deprived of all emotion except raw anguish and rage. The only voice I could give to them were my screams. Just then the darkness took hold of me and behind me the door of the hacienda locked shut. I then remembered one of my father's worst punishments, when he'd lock me in a windowless room for days in complete darkness so I wouldn't be able to tell if it was night or day. In those days sleep and wakefulness were just as blurred and equally terrifying.

I woke covered in a cold sweat and lay in my bed shivering for minutes after. Once my heartbeat lowered to its usual pace, I hurriedly dressed myself in my senatorial garbs and scrawled a letter to Centurion Lucan Valerius, senior officer of the second cohort and my closest ally, dispatching it by means of a raven. No less than twenty minutes later, the young man appeared in the common room clad in a dark cloak, armour and leathers. There was no shortage of underground tunnels and trap doors in New Rome and fittingly there was a secret tunnel that lead to the Praetor's apartments in the principia. In the coming days I planned to use all of them.

"Centurion Valerius report the cohorts alignments." I demanded, even though the senate meeting hours before made the matter quiet obvious. I most likely had the full backing of the fifth and most of the fourth cohort, which left the remaining cohorts in Octavian's hands. I knew there was no way I could win over the first cohort since that was the cohort Octavian belonged to, but the second and the third... Doubtless the second was a proud cohort, and although I used to be their co-centurion alongside Valerius, my ties to them meant far less than the social clause that held them privy to the first cohort. The third cohort held a far less reputable station than them so I expected them to vouch for whoever they thought had a likelier chance of winning and so far the odds favoured Octavian.

"As of now you have the support of most of the fifth and fourth cohorts. I've caught word that centurions from the fourth and fifth held a meeting outside the city perimeters. As expected, the third is sharply divided. Just today a fight broke out within their ranks, about half of them were injured and among them two were so badly beaten that they were dismissed from service." He then looked up at me from the scroll in his hand, his dark eyes searching my face. "You should've been there to see it, it was so tense you'd think that everyone was seconds away from tearing out each other's throats. It took all the discipline of the senior officers to reign everyone in. I've never seen anything like it before."

I twisted the ring on my hand as I always did when I was anxious. "I would've put an end to it and quickly." I whispered.

"But this is what its come to, Reyna." Lucan said, tucking the scroll into his cloak. "I've apprehended two of the soldiers who started it. What will you have us do to them?"

"I can't lose anymore legionnaires, Lucan!" I snapped at him. "The legion could only handle so much. We already lost too many soldiers in the last battle and we're still recovering from storming Mount Othrys. I need all my soldiers and the city's veterans if we mean to survive what is to come, and I do!"

"As do I." He said, struggling to conceal his frustration towards me. "But you have to act. Octavian is gathering his host and do not think your hold over the fourth and fifth cohort is solidified. If he cannot make them honour bound to him by fraternity and tradition like the first and second, then he'll likely start to buy out their loyalty through money and blackmail. You've given him the space to usurp power from you and in no time he'll likely start a smear campaign against you and whatever is left of our supporters, and after that who knows what he'll do!"

And I given him a lot to work with, I thought dejectedly.

"In any case," he breathed an aggravated sigh, "You must put an end to this right now. The Romans are thirsting after bloodshed and I'm afraid I can no longer tell if it's the Greeks or each others, so I will ask you again; what will you have me do with the prisoners?"

I steeled my nerves in anticipation of the most hateful parts of my job, the role of the punisher. "Issue an order to the legionnaires that for today's morning muster we will gather in the field of mars. I'll have the two soldiers dosed in water before they are to be whipped by their senior officers and make sure to mention that from this day on the third cohorts rations will be decreased to a quarter of their original amount and to any brave legionnaire that dares to fight another one in name of faction will be executed and put to display in the forum." I looked at him hard. "You have my word, now go!"

Centurion Valerius saluted before retreating into the door that lead back to the principia, his as empty as my own. I decided it was the quality I hated the most about him and when he was gone I found myself burying my head between my hands, praying for the council of my sister and Jason, both of them as unavailable to me as they were to each other. They would never come to me as I needed them to. Please, I found myself begging, let this be the right thing. This war I had to contend with on my own.