He tapped his foot all through the campfire singing, wanting it to be over quickly. Even when it ended he had to wait for the rest of the camp to fall asleep and for the harpies to make their nightly sweep before he could sneak off to the Hades cabin with the sword stuck through his belt.

Once outside he wrapped himself in shadows and tried to move quickly. He'd never been able to hold the darkness in place long before the shadows started quiver and fall away. He felt a pang of embarrassment because Hades was right. He'd never pushed his powers enough. It didn't help that one look at cabin two got him very distracted. They must have thought the threat of the harpies was enough because there was no one guarding Hera's bronze doors. All those years at Camp Jupiter told him what a serious lapse in security that was, but he couldn't get distracted thinking about her now.

The bright spot of Artemis' cabin drew the eye. It shone like the moon itself was casting a spotlight on it. The good thing about it was that it cast a large shadow for him to pull from. He made it inside the obsidian door before the shadows dropped and sighed in relief. It was just as dark as ever inside the cabin. The few points of light made by the ghostly flames of the candles were no help at all. But since no one was living in the cabin it was bare of clutter so he didn't worry about tripping over anything. Pulling the sword out as he walked to the center of the room he wondered what was supposed to happen now.

He hadn't drawn the sword in over a week because of how vivid the visions were becoming but maybe that's what Hades meant by him not taking it seriously enough. He'd been stumbling into this like an idiot. He didn't feel scared this time, despite Hades' warning. The darkness of the cabin settled around him like a blanket and he felt eased. His father built this cabin and nothing could hurt him here. After all he was a child of the Underworld too. So, he pulled the sword from the scabbard.

How could he not have felt this before? It was like something was trying to pull him into the sword. He was able to resist this time. He held the blade up and saw those dark, angry eyes again, but he wasn't intimidated.

"Stop!" he ordered. His voice was clear and strong and the tugging ceased. The eyes remained and he faced them.

"Who are you?" he asked. His question was met with stony silence.

"Tell me," he said firmly.

The glow from the candles increased and something like mist spilled from the sword. It gathered in front of him and started to take the shape of a man. It was the boy from the visions. He appeared in front of Cesare in a ghost-like image. It looked he was in his mid-20s and clad in Roman armor.

"Who are you?" Cesare asked again.

"My name was Marcus Antonius, general, Triumvir, and scorned son of Hades."

Cesare was speechless. The ghost of Marc Antony was standing in front of him. All this time he'd been seeing flashes from the life of one of history's most legendary figures.

"T-this is your sword? You were a son of Hades?" he asked, amazed.

"Yes," the ghost said simply.

"What happened to you? Tell me the reason why you're haunting this sword."

Cesare could feel the will of Marc Antony pushing against him. It buffeted him like a strong wind. He tightened his grip on the sword and tried a different approach.

"General, my name is Cesare Jackson and I'm the grandson of Hades. That means you are my uncle and I'm asking you for answers."

"You are the grandson of Hades?" asked the ghost. "But you carry yourself like a legionnaire." Marcus looked him up and down appraisingly.

"I was raised at Camp Jupiter. It's a haven for Roman demi-gods, but I left and came to Camp Half-Blood, where the Greek demi-gods live."

"Ah," the general said in understanding. "Then we are truly alike. You must learn from my mistakes. The Romans enslaved and used our people. They killed Greek demi-gods whenever they found them, forcing them into hiding!"

"Just tell me what happened," Cesare said, calmly.

"My death was the result of my own failure to bring down that brat Octavian and take revenge on Rome for what it did to my people." If it was possible his eyes grew even angrier and his fists clenched at his sides. His anger pushed at Cesare like it was trying to overwhelm him. Cesare used his aura to push back.

"Calm down," he ordered. "Your people?" asked Cesare. He tried to get the ghost back on track. "The Romans were your people."

"I thought so too until I met my father and he told me the truth."

"Hades claimed you?"

"Yes, during my time in Athens, which meant I was Graecus."

"I think you'd better tell me everything," said Cesare slowly, trying to come to grips with what he'd just heard.

"I was born in Rome and believed I was one of them. I was careless as a young man and amassed a considerable debt."

"The gambling?" asked Cesare.

"Yes."

"Who was the other boy? The blond you were with?" he asked.

The anger in Marc Antony's eyes softened just a bit before hardening again.

"Gaius Scribonius Curio." It was obvious that the emotions he felt when he was alive were still controlling him and he was reluctant to speak about it, but Cesare needed answers. He was breaking curfew and had no idea if the harpies would make another sweep.

"General?"

The air around him rippled and suddenly Cesare was in another vision of ancient Rome but Marc Antony stood beside him.

"Gaius and I had an affair," he said frankly as he watched his younger self and Gaius walk into a gambling house. "But the rules of Roman society dictate that such affections must end when you come of age. Ours did not. We did our best to keep it a secret."

Scenes flashed in front him like pictures from a projector, all of them of Marcus and Gaius during their young relationship.

"The relationship didn't end until I realized that my debts would put me in Nexum."

Nexum was the Roman system of debt slavery. If you couldn't pay what you owed in ancient Rome then you ended up in servitude, during which you had few rights. You had no control over the work you would be forced to or how long you'd have to do it. Growing up at Camp Jupiter, Cesare was forced to learn all of this so he knew this part of the story.

"You left didn't you?" he recalled.

"Yes," said Marcus. The scene of him walking to the Acropolis of Athens replayed. "I was forced to leave him and when I returned we both had to marry. Marriages were just alliances in Roman, meant to make you look like an upstanding citizen and create political connections."

"Sometimes I would see them," he continued, clenching his fists. "Gaius and his wife."

"But, yes, I escaped to Greece. I felt peace while I was there," he said gently. "The kind of peace Gaius was only able to give me for our short time together. It was my home. I met my father, Hades, and had a celestial bronze sword made to look like a Gladius so I could hide it."

Cesare looked down at the sword in his hand.

"It was by my side always to remind me of who I really was because I had to go back if only to erase my debt. My military career with legion started when I joined the staff of Aulus Gabinius as chief of his Calvary."

Cesare recognized the next scene as it flashed in front of him. It was the battle from the last time he'd touched the sword.

"My powers reached their peak during this battle," he said as they watched the ground crack around Antony. The shadows gained enough substance to snake through the grass like tentacles and snatch the enemy troops down into the depths.

"Luckily, the few of my men who saw were loyal and the rest simply thought I was a soldier blessed by the gods. Gaius Julius Caesar heard of my exploits and I was taken into his service. Somehow he was able to guess my secret but didn't condemn me for it. He took it as proof that Greek demi-gods could be loyal and useful to the Republic."

Cesare saw images of Caesar and Marcus talking as they walked through Rome. Then he saw something surprising, Caesar and Marcus in Egypt. They were in the palace meeting the royal family. One of the girls was especially fixated on the Romans. She had almond shaped dark eyes lined with kohl and dusky skin.

"Is that…?" he broke off and looked at Antony.

"Princess Cleopatra," said Antony, "the future Queen of Egypt. It was the first time I met her and though I didn't know it then, she was actually the daughter of Aphrodite."

Cesare stared at the young girl. It was so weird to think Queen Cleopatra was the half-sister of Piper and Teresa. And Teles… The images flickered again, showing the Roman mob amassed around a great funeral pyre. They were in an uproar.

"After Caesar's death I had a choice to make," said Antony, watching his own life like a movie. "He was a true friend to me and promised to make my cause his own. When the traitors killed him I could have let those dreams die with him but I chose to take control."

Cesare watched the mob marched through Rome shouting and drawing more citizens into its fold.

"In my funeral oration I turned the people against the traitors, making me the only logical choice to fill the gap Caesar had left. But…"

Cesare's attention was drawn back to the ghost at his side. Anger rippled off of Marc Antony as the image showed a young man with bright eyes and curling dark blond hair. Cesare supposed he was handsome but in a way that was trying too hard.

"Caesar named his grandnephew as his heir," Antony seethed.

"That's Octavian?" asked Cesare in shock.

"Yes. I was defeated by him but thought maybe…if Caesar chose him then maybe he was not what I thought. So, when he approached me with the offer, I agreed. Octavian, Marcus Aemilius Lepidus, and I formed an alliance."

"The Second Triumvirate," Cesare answered. Antony looked at him in confusion.

"Is that what history calls it? Pompous," he said with contempt. "It was nothing but a ruse. Octavian sought to control us both in order to consolidate his power. He claimed to be the son of Jupiter and that he was a legacy of Venus. He believed he was born to be Emperor."

Cesare decided not to inform Antony that Octavian did become the first Emperor of Rome and later changed his name to Augustus. It would only make him more furious.

"He got rid of Lepidus first and I knew he'd turn on me next."

The scene changed to Egypt and a now adult Cleopatra.

"I married his sister, Octavia, for the alliance but my heart belonged elsewhere," Antony said, gazing at Cleopatra as if he wanted nothing more than to pull her from the image and have her in his arms again.

"It didn't bother you that she was with Caesar first?" Cesare asked his uncle.

"That was for politics. Her brother sent her into exile and could have had her killed. I did not blame her for doing what she had to do to survive and reclaim her crown. And I had nothing against the boy, Caesarion."

Scenes of a young boy playing flashed. Cesare couldn't believe he was seeing the son of Caesar. Octavian had him killed after Cleopatra's death and there were no accounts of what he'd looked like.

"I'd lost Gaius thanks to the rules of Roman society," Antony growled, his anger vibrating off of him again, "but I would not give her up. Hades warned me."

Cesare looked at him again at the mention of his grandfather.

"Hades warned me that she would cause my doom and I did not care then. But he was right. Octavian used my love for her to turn the people against me. The Senate declared war on her in order to force me to choose a side. I chose her."

Antony looked at him with rage in his eyes.

"Rome took everything from me. I tried, I tried to live by its laws but I built differently. Do you know this feeling?" he asked.

"Yes." Cesare looked at the ghost and saw the same anger he'd felt the day Stacy and Blaine ruled against him traveling to Venice. He saw every rule he'd broken and felt the sting of his tattoo. That feeling of not fitting it and not measuring up is all he'd felt at Camp Jupiter.

"Then finish what I started," implored Antony. "With my knowledge you could bring the Romans to their knees and finally a Greek would rule over them."

"No," said Cesare, looking at him with pity. Antony's fury was quick.

"You call yourself a Greek?" he bellowed. The images of his life were gone. They were back in the Hades cabin and this time Cesare could feel Antony's will pulsating through the sword. It was pulling at him again.

"Rome should pay for what it's done! You understand? You were forced to flee too!"

"I don't blame Camp Jupiter," Cesare said calmly. He was concentrating, trying to push back against Antony.

"Traitor!" the ghost hissed.

"Do you know what your problem is, Uncle?" Cesare asked, gritting his teeth with effort. "You held a grudge."

Antony looked at him in confusion and Cesare took the chance to push harder. He felt the pulling from the sword ease.

"Holding grudges is a fatal flaw for children of Hades. That's what killed you. You hated Octavian from the beginning and set yourself up to fail with Cleopatra. I'm not making that mistake. I will not hold a grudge against the Romans!" Cesare raised the sword and pointed it at Antony.

"Go," he ordered. "It's time for you to go face your judgement…and your mistakes."

He didn't know how he knew what to do. Maybe it was instinct. Cesare stabbed the floor of the cabin with the sword and a fissure opened up. Antony didn't fight against it when he was pulled into the Underworld. He looked resigned to his fate but Cesare couldn't let him go like that.

"Maybe you'll see her again!" he shouted over the noise and wind. "And Gaius too!"

Antony closed his eyes and real smile appeared on his face as he disappeared into the cabin floor. The fissure sealed up neatly, like nothing had happened. Cesare was left sitting, splay legged, on the floor with the sword in his hands.