Cesare paced his hotel room as he cast glances at the duffle bag in the corner. He had tried not to think about the vision. They went to dinner and he laughed as he watched his Dad eat three bowls of fish soup. He and Nico laughed again at the gelato shop as Percy tried to finish his dessert, even as he moaned in pain from a stomachache. But it was in the back of his mind all evening. The boy's face, those glimpses into his life, they were nagging at him. He had no idea how it happened and that scared him, but what scared him more was how much he wanted another look. His curiosity was eating him alive. He was supposed to be sleeping. They were sight-seeing tomorrow and had to get an early start, but he couldn't stop pacing and he couldn't stop looking at the bag.
Cupid wanted him to figure this out and master this sword. He had no reason to hesitate, except…except he hadn't told his Dads about it. Favonius, the harpie, or the sword, they knew nothing. He wasn't sure why he was keeping it a secret but he just didn't want to share it yet. If he figured it out he would tell them. That was enough reassurance to get him across the room to the bag. He unzipped it and pulled out the sword.
Once again he looked at the decorations on the sheath. There was nothing to indicate who owned it, maybe if he could decipher the images he could guess a time frame but that still didn't help. Cesare sat on the bed and took a deep breath. He slowly pulled the sword out. He was looking at the blade and trying to avoid locking eyes with his own reflection. There were scratches near the hilt that he'd missed before. He squinted and looked closer and realized that it was faded engraving. Constant oiling, fighting, and even the action of drawing the sword from the scabbard had worn down whatever was written but he looked closer, practically pressing his face to the weapon. It was so tiny, almost like the owner had scratched it there himself and didn't want anyone else to notice.
There was a lamp on the table next to his bed. He switched it on and held the sword under it. Now the scratches made more sense. It was a name, etched into the sword in Greek. His brain picked it out perfectly because he was hardwired for it.
ᾍδης
Hades
And then he was falling again.
This time he tried to focus instead of fight it. He wanted the images to go slower and they did, but everything was out of order. The first image he focused on was one with the boys gambling again. It was a game of dice that he didn't know but he could tell that the dark haired boy was losing and when he refused to pay a fight broke out in the tavern. His friends dragged him out and he shook them off, spitting blood from his broken lip. He marched away with them following at a distance.
In the next image the boy was sitting on a bench in a room. He had nothing on but some cloth wrapped around his waist and he was talking to the blonde boy. Cesare could tell they were in a Roman bathhouse in one of the warm rooms because they were both covered in sweat. They were speaking intensely about something but broke off when some other men entered the room. The last thing he saw was the boy talking to a girl. They were in someone's home and it looked like he was trying to flirt. There was no sign of the blonde.
When the visions released him he was flat on his back again with the sword still in his hand. This time he stashed the sword away in frustration rather than anger. He still couldn't figure out who the boy was or what he was supposed to be learning.
"Thank the gods for online reservations," Percy muttered as they passed the queue and headed straight for the entrance to St. Mark's Basilica.
"Yeah the line looks even longer this time," agreed Nico.
Cesare didn't envy the poor people roasting in the heat as they waited for their turn to tour the church. There was no mass today so everyone could wear shorts into the church. He'd found a few pairs of his old cargos in the bottom of his largest suitcase and figured Nico put them there when he wasn't looking and he was grateful. The sky was perfectly clear and the sun beat down without anything to block it.
He and his parents just handed in the tickets they printed online at home and got in no problem. He'd had trouble sleeping after touching the sword last night but as they walked into the church he forgot how tired he was. His eyes went straight up and his mouth dropped open. He was so busy staring at the ceiling that he didn't see Percy snort and nudge Nico to look at him.
"So?" Percy asked his husband once they were done laughing at their son's stupor. "You gonna tell us about this place?" He smirked and Nico blushed and tried to suppress a smile.
"Saint Mark's Basilica is an example of Italian-Byzantine architecture," he said. "Thanks to the mosaics the church was nicknamed-"
"Chiesa d'Oro," Cesare breathed.
"That's right. Church of Gold," said Nico, looking at his son proudly. "You okay?"
"Whoa," was all he could manage. Cesare walked forward slowly, eyes still trained on the ceiling.
"He's as bad as you were when we came here the first time," said Percy.
The entire upper level of the church was covered in gold mosaics, making the ceiling shine. Nico had to grab Cesare by the arm to lead them up to the altar. He was finally able to shake off some of his amazement and listen to his Dad as he explained about the art in the church. He smiled when he saw how Percy paid attention as Nico talked about relics and gold glass tesserae. Percy didn't interrupt, he wasn't even looking around, and his focus was entirely on Nico. Maybe he didn't know it but the look on his face said he actually couldn't care less about the Four Evangelists. What he loved was Nico's fascination with it all.
Cesare felt a sudden pang of hurt for Blaine. His Dads were around their age when they fell in love here. This was how they must have looked all those years ago, Nico rambling, bright-eyed over some piece of art history, and Percy gazing at him with that adoring look. He was absolutely sure now that he wasn't meant to be with Blaine. It was never like this. He'd had a crush on Blaine when they were younger but that wore off. And while Blaine may have liked him later, and even convinced himself that it was love, it wasn't. It was more like he was obsessed with the idea of them together. They never looked at each other like this. Stacy was good for him, she made him focused, but he was pretty sure Blaine never looked at her this way either.
The tour only lasted ten minutes then they were ushered out so the next group could come in. They saw the Doge's Palace next and during the tour Cesare got an idea.
"Hey Dad?" he asked Nico. "So this place is full of old stuff. Could ghosts or something be attached to any of it? Like you touch it and see the past?"
Nico looked confused and frowned.
"Maybe? I'm not really sure. There are spirits hanging around some of these old places."
"Really?" Cesare and Percy said at the same time. Nico rolled his eyes as his husband and son looked around the palace trying to spot ghosts.
"You," he said to Percy, "won't be able to see them. Not a son of Poseidon thing. And Cesare, you're not concentrating. But it's hard to say. Your Aunt Hazel used to pass out and relive her past all the time, but that was because she came back from the dead and had unresolved issues with everything that happened to her. I guess if the residual energy were strong enough, like from a half-blood like us, you could tap into it."
"Cool, I just wanted to know in case I bumped into something in here," he said quickly to divert suspicion.
"It would probably take more than that," said Nico.
For lunch they crossed the Bridge of Sighs and headed for a fresh pasta restaurant his Dads remembered. Walking around in the heat had taken its toll and they decided to order extra and just go back to the hotel and rest. The pasta came in little to-go boxes like a Chinese restaurant and Percy had four of them and was already asking about gelato.
"I'll make you a deal," said Nico, "if you can walk without pain when you're done with all that pasta, we'll get gelato."
He stayed with them in their room just to see how it played out. In the end they did not go out for gelato because Percy was in the bed flat on his back with a stomachache.
"Gods," he moaned.
"You brought this on yourself," Nico said without pity.
"You know, you can help me burn off these extra calories," Percy suggested.
"Ugh!" Cesare groaned in disgust. "I am so glad my room is at the other end of the hall."
"Yeah, why don't you go there? Now," Percy commanded, pointing at the door. Nico just laughed as Cesare bolted.
Stacy was in casual clothes, which was a rare sight, as was watching her walk around with nothing but a latte in hand. Her long, straight brown hair was loose around her shoulders and if he didn't know any better he'd say she was just a regular girl walking down the street.
"Stacy?" He called her name brightly and smiled as he walked toward her.
"Blaine," she said, half surprised.
"Are you coming to the office?"
"Sure," she said with a little hesitation.
"Great, this unicorn stable thing is driving me crazy," he said, sighing for effect.
They walked down the road from New Rome in relative silence. Stacy was rigid, like she was waiting for him to snap at her again.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I just feel like I failed him." Stacy looked at him but he stared straight ahead. Finally she sighed and took his hand.
"You didn't fail him, Blaine. You did your job as Praetor. This wasn't the right place for Cesare. He'll be happier with the Greeks."
He nodded and gripped her hand tighter as they walked. They went back to being silent but she relaxed more. Once they made it to the Principia she had relaxed enough she didn't notice when he dropped back from walking beside her.
"So, the request for the new stable, is it a problem with the location? Because-" Stacy stopped short when she saw the mess in the office. Paper and books littered the floor, the chairs were turn over, and the Eagle was gone.
"Oh my Gods," Stacy gasped. "Blaine, get the guards." She moved forward into the room but stopped when her foot landed on something hard. When she lifted it up there was a broken iPad under it. Then she turned around and noticed Blaine hadn't moved.
"Blaine! The Eagle is gone! Go get the guards. We need to search the building and the camp to find who did this!" But he only stared at her.
"What is wrong with you?" she demanded and marched over to him.
He put a finger to her lips and shushed her.
"I think they're still here in the principia." He pointed to a door down the hall.
"We don't know how many there are so you go get the guards and I'll go after them."
"Blaine, you know where that door leads and I'm not letting you go down there alone," she said firmly.
Stacy picked her way through the mess in the office and went to the far wall where they had heirloom weapons hanging on the wall and picked two daggers. It was the best they could do on short notice. She handed one to Blaine and they headed for the door.
Cesare pulled his sheets up over his head and clenched his eyes shut, trying to force himself to sleep. The sword loomed large in his mind and it was starting to really scare him. He wanted to touch it, to see the visions into that boy's life. It was like an itch he couldn't scratch out. Worse than that was the frustration. He didn't understand what he was supposed to be learning or how to master the sword. Cupid could have given better instructions and he was beginning to see why his Dad disliked the guy.
He wasn't getting anywhere with this. So far all he could make out was that the sword was showing him different moments in the life of this guy. He was a Roman citizen, that was clear but why was he important? It didn't look like he was doing anything particularly significant, except gambling and sleeping with people. At least the blonde boy seemed important to him for a time but in the last vision he was with a girl. Even that wasn't important. In ancient Rome, homosexuality had weird rules surrounding its practice.
The sword had Hades' name scratched into it in Greek. Cesare rolled over onto his back and frowned at the ceiling. Could it be that the boy was a Greek living in Rome? He could relate to that and maybe that was the clue. But there were many Greeks who lived in Rome, usually as slaves once the City-States were conquered. The boy didn't appear to be a slave, so that was even more confusing. Armed with a new theory and more questions, he got up and went to get the sword. The second his hand touched it he felt anger roll over him like a wave and the darkness swallowed him up whole.
It was mayhem pure and simple. He was looking at a battlefield as two opposing forces clashed against each other. Amidst the clouds of dust and dirt he saw the dark haired boy, now a man in full Roman armor. He was on a horse and the rest of the Roman cavalry were obeying his orders –at least the ones that could hear over the noise. They were in the middle of the battle and few of his troops were still near him. The other army seemed comprised of men in lamellar with curved swords. It was impossible to tell whether they too had a cavalry or if it had already been mowed down.
Blood sprayed and watered the ground, turning it into a sickening mud. One thing Cesare didn't understand was the noise. None of the visions had ever had sound before but this one was filling his ears with horrors. He heard the savage sound of men screaming and crying as they died, horses shrieked as they were wounded too, and he didn't even know animals could make such sounds.
In the bedlam, the dark haired Roman was knocked off of his horse. He was surrounded by enemy soldiers but scrambled to his feet and stood his ground as they attacked. His helmet was gone, his face was covered in grime, and Cesare couldn't understand what the enemy were shouting but the Roman kept his focus. He was holding his own against a handful of opponents. His attention jumped easily as he dealt with one after another and Cesare recognized it as battle ADHD. But more and more foes were joining the group that had him encircled. The Roman was cut off from his troops and Cesare could see panic creeping into his eyes.
The man started to scream back as he fought. His rage rolled off of him and seemed to affect his adversaries. They were beginning to panic. Some of them were even backing away. Suddenly the vision became even more visceral. Cesare could feel the blood-soaked ground beneath his feet and he knew why the other soldiers were scared. The Roman was putting off an aura and it was nearly visible now. He radiated fear and death and the ground was cracking under his feet as he fought. As the fissures widened, the enemy tried to turn and run but it was too late. Inky shadows seeped out the ground and wrapped around their ankles to drag them down. Some doubled their efforts to kill the Roman, fighting through the fear aura in hopes of ending the nightmare they'd suddenly stumbled into.
He was charged by his power and those who weren't pulled underground, he killed quickly. Cesare had never seen anything like it, not even from his father. He wasn't raising the dead or summoning spirits. The shadows were solid and looked like darkness itself. When the last man fell, the shadows receded into the ground and the Roman dropped to his knees exhausted. The battle was dying down and the last thing Cesare saw was a group of Roman soldiers walking over to their comrade and surveying the number of enemies he'd killed.
When the vision ended he was on the floor covered in cold sweat.
My old laptop finally gave out on me. As a result I have to put this story on pause until a miracle happens.I can't access what I already have wrritten either because it was saved on the laptop. But I'll try get this back inaction whenever I am able.