80 AD- 81AD:
He lies. Gaius tells the Augustus that Perseus told him he had been summoned by his father. Gaius says he saw Perseus enter the Mediterranean Sea to go speak to his Lord Father. Gaius does not mention his mother. The Augustus thanks him for the information but sends his guards to search the area just in case Perseus had already come back. Gaius understands the search to be a confirmation of his story. Luckily, there is no body nor sign of a struggle for the guards to find and they return empty handed.
They wait several more hours, but eventually the Augustus order his guards to sail to Gaeta for the one-year celebration of the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius. Perseus does not arrive during the goat sacrifice. They sail back to Rome. Perseus does not meet them in Rome.
Gaius was the last person to see Perseus alive. The Augustus lets him know via letter that he should not leave the city until Perseus returns. Gaius folds and unfolds the letter with trembling hands. The woman who was once his mother offers multiple times to step forward and confess her crimes. Gaius stops her. No one would believe a woman killed the demigod who fought one hundred praetorian guards in a training exercise and won. If she was convicted of murder their whole family would have a black mark.
Gaius has lied to the Augustus about the gods.
The woman who was once his mother tries to speak to him and to explain whatever insanity had possessed her to kill Perseus. She did it to protect Gaius? She did it to protect Rome? Perseus was too powerful for the mortal world? Gaius tells her to be silent and orders her away to their family home in the countryside. She has taken Perseus away. Perseus was a blessing from the gods and she killed him.
Over the year, Gaius comes to the uncomfortable realization that he is very good at lying. Senatorial families invite him to dinner to ask about Perseus, and Gaius reassures them that Perseus is visiting his father under the sea. After some wine he also indulges in stories of Perseus. In his mind Gaius knows these stories are born of a need to mourn the loss of his friend. To the senatorial families, they are stories of their mysterious colleague who is sure to return soon.
On Neptunalia Julia and Titus Augustus sit on the shores of Tiber Island. Julia plays the Lyre. Rome holds its breath. Gaius pretends to wait with a pit in his stomach. Perseus does not emerge from the waters as he had done before. The whispers get louder. People stop inviting Gaius to dinner. Without Perseus, Gaius is merely the nephew of a great man who has died.
After the trip to Mt Vesuvius, the Augustus had an ongoing cough. It lingers for a few months without getting better and without getting worse. In the spring it seems to disappear. In the summer it returns. Then in the fall the cough comes back with a vengeance. The Augustus is feverish and so he and his guard travel to his family lands outside of Rome to get better air.
A few days later Domitian entered the senate building and declared Imperator Titus Ceasar Flavian Vespasianus Augustus has died. The senate are quick to declare their new allegiance. Augustus Domitian has his brother declared a god that very same day. Gaius hears this from his friend Tacitus who listens in on all senatorial meetings.
The next day, Gaius leaves Rome and takes a position as military tribune; tribune of Legio III Galica in Syria. In the chaos that occurs upon the death of an Augustus and the reorganization of the government, no one noticed the absence of such a minor figure.
.
81 AD:
When Perseus lived, everything seemed possible. Without him, things return to the mundane and the limiting. The river is a mode of transport and a disease risk, not a place for springtime tomfoolery. The ocean is a dangerous, unpredictable beast, not a holy place of wonder and unlimited food. He prays to Perseus before stepping on the ship to Syria knowing that Perseus cannot hear him.
It's largely a treasury position. He keeps track of payments to the soldiers, he pays for food delivery, he negotiates the costs of steel for the smiths. He tells the smiths to make stirrups for the saddles. When the cavalry thanks him for the wonderful invention Gaius tells them of Perseus Filius Neptunus. Gaius is one of only a handful of men within the legion who can read and is often receiving and sending letters and orders. He keeps meticulous notes and ledgers of payment flows, names and dates. It's not a difficult job.
It's nothing like being the advisor and friend to a god.
Gaius spends his free time making copies of Perseus' notebook. There are things within the book he does not understand. Sometimes things are written in Latin, sometimes Greek and sometimes a language Gaius cannot interpret with odd symbols scattered throughout. There are names in the notebook Gaius does not know. Annabeth. Grover. There are casual mentions of gods; as if the gods were merely annoying cousins. What a wonder it is to see the thoughts of a man who was so close to the gods. "Chiron would be annoyed if he caught me drawing boats instead of listening to the senate. In my defense, I know nothing of Roman tax laws." "This senate meeting is dragging on so long. I wish I could go have lunch with Tiberinus and Rhea instead, they have the best fish."
Gaius redraws the diagrams of ships and ship parts as best he can. Sometimes the ships seem very reasonable, ships that are not so different from ones that exist. Then there are ships that are labeled as "Steel, but better steel". Sometimes Perseus draws a ship underwater with glass windows and a rounded shape. A death trap, perhaps? How strange. It seems very unlike Perseus to design elaborate methods of murder. If only Perseus was still alive so Gaius could ask him the meaning.
The ink bottle Perseus had given him runs out before he finishes making a single copy of the notebook. Gaius buried the bottle in the sand at the beach with a prayer. The next day, he finds the bottle once more filled with ink. On that day, Gaius realizes that a part of Perseus must still be alive. He is part god after all. No other being would think to refill this bottle of ink.
Gaius holds the bottle close and prays.
.
82 AD:
"I am already engaged to another," Julia says trying to contain her rage.
"Julia," Domitian sighs. He sits behind her father's writing desk. Letters from all corners of the empire cover the desk in neatly organized piles. He wears her father's purple tunic.
"I am not going to wed a man when I am engaged to a god!"
"He is gone, Julia, stop being stupid. It has been years. He is gone. He has left you," Domitian says sympathetically.
"Perhaps he has to do some quest. Perseus has mentioned doing quests for the gods. He will return! He has to!" Julia screams back. She sounds desperate in her own ears. Unshed tears burn her eyes but she will not cry in front of her uncle.
"I have consulted the oracles, none of the omens speak of his return. I know your young womanly heart cannot bear it, but he is gone, daughter," Domitian says. After her father died, Domitian adopted Julia as his own. Julia hates it. Julia hates everything right now. Her life has fallen apart and she is too angry to be sad.
"Perseus would not leave me without a word," Julia says.
"Whatever reason the gods had to remove Perseus from the mortal world, they have not seen fit to return him. You are a woman now Julia and it is time for you to move on from your childish dreams and be wed to a proper man."
"I cannot marry cousin Sabinus. Marrying one's cousin leads to cursed children. Perseus said so," Julia says.
"A foolish notion," Domitian dismisses, "Until my wife Domitilla and I have a son, Sabinus is my heir. Your marriage will help solidify the succession. The empire cannot afford to be without a clear line of succession else it risks another civil war."
"Let me wait another year," Julia pleads, "Perseus will return."
Domitian puts down his pen and stands. He walks to her and behind him his Praetorian guard step forward as well. "I must do right by Titus and see you properly wed. Sabinus is a good man with a kind temperament, much like his father. A senator. He will treat you well. You cannot spend your life waiting for a dead man. I want to be clear Julia, you will wed cousin Sabinus the Younger next June. I am not asking."
Too enraged to speak, Julia turns and walks out of her uncle's room. He does not try to stop her.
Perhaps he thought she would return to her room to cry. She grabs a bag and fills it with necessities. She is going to Tuscany. Her father left her a Villa in Tuscany three days ride outside of Rome. The villa is in the mountains east of Florence. Those lands are HERS.
She gets on a horse. Several members of the Praetorian guard saddle horses beside her and follow her out of Rome. Her uncle has commanded she is guarded at all time. She ignores them.
They ride out of Rome. As she leaves the city, she thinks she sees a statue of Terminus turn to look at her with a frown. They ride for hours. The roads are well maintained this close to Rome but there are many miles where they do not see any other traveler.
A crack of a branch is all the warning Julia gets before something powerful hits her horse from the side. The horse screams in pain as it falls over. Julia is thrown from her horse and her leg makes a crack sound as she lands. In front of her stands a large furry cow-like creature with red eyes and the head of a warthog. A Katoblep. The beast breaths out a steam of deep purple. It smells like death and rot. Julia pulls out her short sword.
One of her Praetorian guards spears the creature. The spear snaps on it's thick hide, but it does distract the beast. The monster charges the guard who had sought to hurt it. The monster's horns gauge the soldier's horse and tramples the man. Another guard rushes to Julia's side and pulls her up.
Her leg is broken, but Julia can put her weight on the other leg. Julia keeps her sword trained on the beast. Another guard tries to attack it. That guard is trampled between the beast's hooves.
"Stay away from the Augusta, vicious beast!" The guard next to Julia screams. He is an older guard, nearing his fifties but he is no less fit than a soldier in his prime. Julia sees the guard glow red. He pulls out his sword and charges the massive creature.
"Don't!" Julia says, "This is no mortal beast!" But it is too late. The guard crashes against the Katoblep. Julia prepares for him to be ripped apart, but instead the man holds steady. His sword is pushed aside by the thick hide, but he manages to hold back the charging monster with his chest. The guard screams in pure rage. The Katoblep's eyes glow red and shakes its large horned head to throw the guard to the side.
Having been slowed by the guard, Julia is able to side-step the beast's slow charge and stab the its side with her sea monster tooth sword. For a second the beast howls with pain, then it shatters into gold dust.
Julia looks at the red-glowing guard rising to a crouch a few meters away and the guard looks back. "You see them too, my lady?" the guard asks as the red glow fades.
He's a demigod, Julia realizes. Since her father had died and was deified, she too was the daughter of a god. "I see them," Julia agrees. "What is your name soldier? And do you know any others who see the monsters?"
"Caturix of Gaul," the guard bows, "and I have only ever met a few others when I was in the legion. I actually came to Rome because I was told the city is safe. Monsters do not enter its border."
Good to know, Julia thinks. She looks at the three dead horses and two dead soldiers. The final soldier, who rode a horse with several saddlebags and was thus the slowest looks at the scene with horror.
"All this from a loose cow?" the last guard asks. Caturix and Julia share a look. He clearly had not seen the monster. They burn the bodies and say the proper funeral rites. The three of them limp to the next village. Julia wonders if she can find other soldiers like Caturix. If she wants to leave the borders of Rome then she will need bodyguards who can kill monsters and she will not spend her life contained in the city.
.
91 AD:
As Tribune of the Plebs, Gaius Plinius Secundus considers it his duty to support plebian artists and organize artistic events to the public. He does not have the funds for chariot races or gladiatorial games, of course, but he can reserve the theatre of Pompeii and give the people a chance to listen to some of the poetry produced during Domitian's reign.
Despite being the one to patron the poets, Gaius is happy to sit near the back of the seats and enjoy the performance as merely an attendant. It seems to him unnecessarily self-aggrandizing to present oneself too richly when the focus should remain on the poetry and forms of proper rhetoric. Besides, it was emptier near the back and Gaius was less likely to be disturbed by other people's movements and mutterings. The Iberian poet Marcus Valerius Martialis had remarkably clever wit and Gaius was quite enjoying himself.
A woman sits down next to Gaius and at first Gaius is too absorbed in the poetry to heed the woman much mind. As the poem comes to a close Gaius turns to address his new companion only to abruptly freeze. Besides him sits Julia Flavia. Gaius has not spoken to her in more than a decade. "Julia," Gaius says, his surprise momentarily overcoming his manners. He quickly bows his head and corrects himself, "Julia Flavia, my lady, to what do I owe the honor?"
"I am merely attending a public poetry reading, Gaius Plinius Secundus, nothing more," Julia says with a smile.
Julia is wearing a pearl necklace and earrings, but her jewelry is more subdued than it was when Perseus was by her side. She has grown into a beautiful woman with toned arms and a mysterious smile. It is as if she always knows important secrets she is not telling you. She very likely does. Behind and beside the lady are two guards who have put very little effort into blending in with the public.
Julia has recently become a widow. Her husband, Titus Flavius Sabinus the younger, was Augustus Domitian's most trusted cousin and heir. Until three months ago when Domitian Augustus believed him to be a traitor and had the man tortured and executed. Domitian had claimed that it was because the city herald had declared Sabinus 'Augustus' instead of 'Consul', and that this was proof of Sabinus' plot to overthrow Domitian. However, it was rumored that Domitian had had the man tortured and killed because Domitian sought to marry Julia, and thus must first kill her husband. Domitian's wife Domitilla had not produced an heir and rumor had it he sought to create one via Julia.
The next poet, Juvenal comes forth to speak on unfaithful wives. "I know the advice that my friends would give: "Bolt her in, constrain her!" But who watches the watchmen? They keep quiet about the girl's secrets and get her as their payment; everyone hushes it up." Juvenal reads from a scroll.
Gaius takes a bite of his fig. "What reason has a wife who is imprisoned to be loyal to her jailor?" he ponders aloud. Who watches the watchmen? That makes Gaius think on the nature of power. The power of a man over his wife, but also the power of a government over the people –
"I think we should get married," Julia says.
Gaius chokes on his fig.
After a moment, Gaius composes himself. Looking around, it seems no one had heard them save perhaps Julia's two guards. Marriage to the niece of the Augustus was a terrible idea. No man would be presumptuous enough to ask for Lady Julia's hand from the Augustus himself. Certainly not mere weeks after her previous husband was publicly executed. "If- if this is a form of humor, my lady, than I must confess I seem to being too dim-witted to understand the joke," Gaius says, trying to straighten his tunic.
"It is not a joke," Julia says, and lets her smile dim, "I am asking a favor. I am pregnant. If my uncle finds out I carry my ex-husbands child, he will insist I get an abortion to prevent any threats to his rule. We will need to get married quickly, before I start to show signs."
Gaius stares at her with wide eyes, "Surely, there is someone more appropriate you could ask?" Abortions are incredibly dangerous procedures, more dangerous than births themselves. Many women have bled to death on tables or grown sick with fever after such a procedure.
"Anyone more politically important than you would be killed by my uncle's paranoia. Anyone less important than a senator would never be accepted as my husband," Julia reasons.
Gaius had never been naïve enough to think that he would enter into the most romantic marriage of all time, but he had hoped his future wife would regard him as more than "the least important man my family would allow me to marry."
"Besides," Julia says, "we both like poetry and we both loved Perseus. That is already two more things than I had in common with my previous husband. And Perseus trusted you, so I in turn find myself doing the same."
"We hardly know each other," Gaius says, shaking his head, "I do not think your uncle would approve, and I would greatly prefer not to displease him."
"Marriage to me would bring a great amount of wealth to your family. What more could a Roman want from a wife? We do not need to remain married for long. Only long enough to claim the child is yours, and thus not a threat to my uncle." Julia asks.
"It would be entirely inappropriate for the tribune of the plebs to propose a marriage between himself and the niece of the Augustus. I am terribly sorry, Lady Julia but I really must be going. I wish you the best in finding a man more suited to the job," Gaius says as he stands and excuses himself.
A flash of fear appears in Julia's eyes before it is covered up with a diplomatic smile, "I trust this conversation will stay between us?"
"Of course, my lady. I am not one to tell secrets," Gaius assures. Gaius leaves the theatre early in an absolute daze.
He spends the afternoon pacing.
He spends the evening pacing.
He spends the night pac-
"By the gods Gaius," Grandfather says, emerging from his room with his cane, "Give it a rest. What has you so worked up that you prevent everyone in the house from sleeping?"
"I am pondering the nature of bravery and cowardice. I am debating what it is we owe one another as fellow Romans, as fellow people. The poetry today made me think. What should I do in a situation where choosing to act would endanger myself and by extension our family, but to do nothing is to endanger another," Gaius says.
"I have been alive many years Gaius," Grandfather says as he sits down on the garden bench, "and never have I seen a man ponder the nature of bravery in the middle of the night. I have, however, seen many men at this time of night ponder woman."
"It's- it's – it's not so simple. She- it's not. You don't understand," Gaius says, feeling like a child.
"No, love is never simple, is it?" Grandpa asks, "Do let me know if I should propose marriage on your behalf. Is she beautiful?"
"More beautiful than any other woman," Gaius says, "and dangerous."
"Dangerous, you say? What fun. It will make things a bit more interesting around here. I will let you ponder your cowardice in peace."
Grandfather walks back to his room and Gaius goes to his own room. He lights a lantern and sits at his desk. Perseus' magic ink seems to stare at Gaius. How simple life seemed when Perseus was alive. What would Perseus say now? Would he be enraged that Gaius would dare think to marry Perseus' fiancé? Would he encourage Gaius to save Julia from a dangerous and painful procedure? Domitian is growing ever more paranoid; to be his niece's husband might be a death sentence. The senate would think him a terrible social climber who has taken advantage of a grieving widow. His friends would keep their distance. Was Gaius even remotely ready to be a father to another man's child? His thoughts spiral.
At dawn, Gaius grabs his pen and writes a letter to Julia.
.
91 AD:
Gaius, against all possible forms of good judgement, has personally convinced Domitian Augustus that he and Julia were in love and had been since they met as children when Perseus had brought them together. Gaius has gotten better at lying over the years. Julia's insistence that they were deeply in love and that she would surely die of grief if Domitian did not allow them to marry was also very convincing.
Surprisingly, Domitian approves of Gaius. Domitian was known for preferring a hard-working freedman and equestrians over the average senator. Unlike much of the senate who only had their positions because of the wealth of their fathers, Gaius had worked hard to get into the senate and proven himself to have a sound mind. Or so Domitian claimed. Thus, Gaius has Domitian's approval. Secretly, Gaius thinks the approval is also because Gaius is not a man to overstep and certainly not one who inspires rebellion in the masses.
It was quite the scandal. The people of Rome have not stopped talking about how the Tribune of the Plebs, a man who was once a mere equestrian, had seduced the niece of the Augustus after the death of her husband. Rumors spread, especially when the date of the wedding is announced. One does not get married so quickly unless there is something to hide.
Domitian himself had been near murderous when Gaius had implied that he and Julia had spent a night together and that the wedding should perhaps happen sooner rather than later. Domitian had covered the palace in mirrors so as to be able to see assassins before they could get near him. Therefore, Gaius had the pleasure of seeing Domitian's rage reflected off of three different surfaces. Domitian lets Gaius know that if he does not marry Julia, he will get the Praetorian guard to cut Gaius into tiny pieces, starting with his penis. Then the pieces of his corpse will be thrown down the Gemonian steps and his name will be erased from history.
Damnatio Memoriae.
The wedding is extravagant and Gaius sweats through his nicest toga. Grandfather Plinius and Domitian Augustus are both there to oversee the wedding along with more than ninety guests. Gaius thinks this many guests is really quite an unnecessary display of wealth but does not bring up this objection with the Augustus. Papers are signed, bread is cut, sacrifices are made to the gods, a feast is held and the newly married couple are paraded from the palace to the Plinius humble family home by a crowd of cheering people.
Inside their rooms, a little crab Gaius has not seen in years sits on his writing desk holding two beautiful pearls in his claws. A sign from Perseus.
"Mr. Pinchy?" Julia asks in amazement.
The crab clicks his claws happily.
They place Mr. Pinchy in a bowl and give him all kinds of food, but in the morning, he is gone. Julia has matching rings made with the pearls.
.
92 AD:
A nurse offers him the baby. If he does not hold her, the child will be placed outside to die or to be raised by slavers. His daughter is small and her face is squished and splotchy. She is the most beautiful thing Gaius has ever seen and Gaius holds her close.
They name her Domitilla Plinius in hopes that naming her after the Augustus would please him. They have moved to the Plinius family lands seventeen miles away from Rome and do not announce her birth for two months. Domitilla is legally born eleven months after the death of Julia's ex-husband.
.
93 AD:
Julia stares at the shrine Marcella had built for Perseus on the Plinius family lands overlooking the ocean. She is not sure how to feel about it. A part of her is still angry. He had abandoned her without a word. Why would Perseus agree to marry her if he never intended to do so? She wishes she didn't care about him anymore. How embarrassing is it for a grown woman to be so caught up on a fiancé she had for less than half a year when she was only 17? A fiancé who abandoned her without a word.
Still, some days she cannot help but wonder what her life would have been like if he were still here. She cannot help but think of the way his eyes glowed green as they walked under the waves. Julia shakes her head and walks back to the villa where her husband is playing with their daughter. Her bodyguards follow.
Despite their initial agreement to divorce amicably after Julia birthed her daughter, Gaius and Julia have stayed together. They've grown fond of each other as they raise Domitilla. Their love grew during the hectic nights of lulling a baby to sleep, gossiping about various senators and their illicit affairs, and stories shared over dinner of their own youth. They reminisce about Perseus. When he was around, they had both felt unstoppable. The first time Gaius writes Julia poetry is the night she kisses him and pulls him into their marriage bed.
Gaius and Julia have retreated to the Plinius family lands a few hours ride away from Rome. They can see the sea from their villa. Gaius still goes to Rome regularly to work as a lawyer to settle last wills and testaments and Julia will visit family and friends on occasion. On Julia's insistence, Gaius has not entered the senate house in two years. Getting too involved with politics so soon after the marriage would arouse Domitian's suspicious nature.
Gaius' mother Marcella also lives at the Villa. She is a wonderful woman who has helped Julia immensely since the birth of her daughter. Julia does not remember her own mother, and Julia's wet nurse Phyllis stays in Rome with Domitian. Marcella will often get up in the middle of the night to rock Domitilla back to sleep and feed her goats milk so Julia can rest. There is an argument between her husband and his mother that Julia is not privy to, for he does not speak to her.
There are many benefits to being away from Rome and outside of uncle Domitian's constant watch. The downside, however, is that monsters occasionally track Julia down due to her godly blood. Just last week a hungry grain spirit had tried to attack her. Her bodyguards had killed it before Julia had time to pull out her short sword.
This is exactly why Julia now employs bodyguards who are capable of seeing and killing such monsters. All of them are demigods or legacies of the gods and welcomed the opportunity to work with others of their kind. Many of the bodyguards had once been soldiers of Legio XII Fulminata, so not only did they possess godly blood, they also were trained to fight to Roman standards of war.
Julia has inherited some lands from her father a few days ride from Rome. She had moved the families of her bodyguards to the farmland where they have free reign to farm and build as they please. As long as Julia lives, they will have a home to live on free of rent. If Julia or her children are assassinated then the families will be kicked off the land. A good motivation for her bodyguards to do their job properly.
In the villa, Julia sees her husband's writing desk. He has started writing a book about Perseus. Occasionally he would ask her about her memories of the demigod. He hopes to publish it so the memory of Perseus would not be forgotten.
Julia picks up the notes to read through them. The story of how Gaius and Marcella found Perseus in the lava egg, the story of Perseus the boy who laughed and played, the story of Perseus stopping the inferno in the middle of Rome, the story of Perseus leaving the shores of Vesuvius to return to Atlantis.
Julia read the last story again. Julia knows when people lie. Julia knows when her husband lies. He speaks with more detail and tends to repeat himself. The tale of Perseus' last moments was a lie. Julia picks up the scroll and feels rage build within her chest.
Gaius Plinius Secundus lied to her.
She marches into the dining room where Gaius is reading to Domitilla.
"Did you murder Perseus?" Julia asked, holding out the scroll.
"No!" Gaius says, taken aback, "Where is this coming from?"
"I know what you sound like when you lie. This!" Julia throws the scroll at him, "Is a lie. What. Happened?"
Gaius looks panicked, and stutters a few words, "This- is what happened. He had to go. He's not dead, he's just… in Atlantis."
Liar. Yet he does not act like a murderer. He is hiding something. Why would he lie if he did not kill Perseus? What reason does he have to protect the murder? Unless…
Julia turns to her guard, "Get Lady Marcella." It explains why her husband has been so cold to his mother. He barely speaks to her. God-killer that she is.
"No!" Gaius says. He stands and puts the book down. Julia is right then; Marcella is the murderer. "I forbid it!" But Julia's bodyguards do not obey her husband, so one of them goes to fetch the wretched woman. Gaius leaves the room as well. Julia picks up her daughter, who has started to fuss.
Within minutes, her bodyguard has dragged Marcella by her hair and forced her to kneel in front of Julia.
"Lady Julia," the woman says, bowing her head.
"Your son is a liar," Julia spits, throwing the scroll to the woman's feet, "but you are worse. Tell me what happened the day Perseus disappeared. You murdered him, did you not?"
"It was my doing, my lady. My son had no part in it. Spare him your wrath, please. I returned Perseus to his home by cutting off his arm."
"Explain," Julia says, motioning for her guards to keep Marcella at knifepoint.
Marcella says an insane story about time travel and a shard of time. How Perseus came from the future and Marcella returned him to that time by cutting off his arm. How his arm did not bleed, but instead dissolved into gold dust. Marcella keeps her head bowed low and does not make eye contact. Julia does not know Marcella well enough to know if she is lying and it angers her.
Gaius returns to the dining room. He is breathless and holding an empty vial of ink. His clothes have blotches of ink on them, as if Gaius had hurriedly emptied it. "He's not dead!" Gaius says.
Julia is unamused.
"The ink refills itself if I place it by the ocean or on Perseus' alter," Gaius says, "A sign from Perseus. Years ago, Perseus told me if I finished the ink, he would refill it for me. He continues to do so now. A part of him still lives."
Julia holds her daughter close and says nothing.
"I understand your rage, Julia. More than anyone, I understand. He was my friend, my brother. I loved him too. Yet I still beg for your mercy. Marcella is my mother. I cannot bear to have her be killed for trying to protect me. Not when she did not truly kill Perseus," Gaius holds out the empty ink bottle as if it means anything. "He lives. He gave us a wedding gift," Gaius reminds her.
Julia taps the pearl in her wedding ring.
"Bring Marcella to her room and stand guard," Julia says to her bodyguard, "I shall witness your miracle Gaius, and decide her punishment in the morning."
Marcella bows to her and goes without protest while Gaius hands Julia the bottle of ink. "Thank you," he says.
That night, Julia, Gaius and three of Julia's bodyguard stand around the alter of Perseus. Julia holds a sleeping Domitilla in her arms. An oil lamp and an empty ink bottle have been placed on the alter. Several hours pass and Julia sits in front of the alter, pulling her palla around her child. No ink has entered the bottle and Gaius is starting to get a little antsy. Julia hopes her husband is correct for multiple reasons. For the first time in years, Julia closes her eyes and prays.
"You don't normally pray," a voice says.
Julia knows that voice. Opening her eyes, she looks right into glowing green eyes.
"Perseus," Julia says. He is not a day older than he was when Julia last saw him. Still a boy of only 15. His green tunic is embroidered with gold and he wears his toga like a cloak behind him. His hair and cloak both float as if they are underwater. One of his forearms is missing. The world looks as if it is underwater, even Julias clothes float around her.
"I cannot stay long. But it is good to see you, Julia," Perseus says.
"I thought you had left me," Julia says, "I have been so angry."
"I did not mean to leave you. It is difficult to contact mortals when your body has been banished for two thousand years," Perseus says. Then what Marcella said was true.
"Then you did not betray me. Instead, I have betrayed you by marrying another while being engaged to a god," Julia says, looking down at her wedding ring.
"You have not betrayed me. I release you from whatever bonds you think you may have. Julia, look at me," Perseus says. Julia looks up. "I am a child god. I am too young to wed anyone. I do not begrudge you being alive and living."
"We would have been amazing. Think of all you will never be," Julia says.
"Think of all you have," Perseus responds as he places his hand on the child in Julia's arms, "Do not give up your future for a dream that will not be. Live a wonderful life, and when the time comes, tell me stories of all you did."
After a moment Perseus turns and walks back to the alter. "Oh, and ask your uncle to build a few more ships. The grain ships really need better stability and it's getting a little embarrassing to ask the storm gods to stop creating storms when Rome's ships pass by."
"What about Marcella? What shall I do to the woman who hurt you?" Julia asked.
"She bathes in the river. If I wanted her dead, she would be dead. I am furious with her. Yet despite everything, a part of me still loves her as a son does a mother. She is under my protection. So is Gaius. Keep an eye on him for me, would you?" Perseus says. With one finger, he taps the bottle which quickly refills itself with ink. Then, he walks behind his alter and disappears.
Julia opens her eyes. The world is no longer underwater.
The glass vial on the alter is full of ink.
Marcella lives.
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93 AD:
"Your uncle was a friend of my grandfather, wasn't he?" Julia asked as they walked along the beach of Ostia. Julia and Gaius had gone to the shipyard to give shipbuilder Trios a copy of Percy's notebook that Gaius had written. The man had taken the book was great reverence and gratitude, almost crying as he looked at the sketches of ships Perseus had not even built models for.
Instead of going back to their lands immediately, Julia and her husband decided to spend the rest of the day walking along the beaches near the village. It was a nice day for it.
"Oh yes. My uncle often went to the palace to speak with Augustus Vespasian and to work for him. Apparently, they both had a great interest in the laws of nature and methods of production," her husband answers.
"What sort of laws of nature?"
"My uncle had a great interest in many things, from magic to mining and from astronomy to zoology," Gaius' eyes shine as he recalls his uncle's work, "I made several copies of his final books. If you are interested in metal working at all, I have much to tell you!"
Julia pretends she is and watches with fondness as her generally reserved husband launches into a forty-minute speech about the methods of mining and the various characteristics of different metals, minerals and stone.
By the end, they have walked a great distance along the coast and Julia has learned that she enjoys seeing her husband so full of enthusiasm and obvious pride in his uncle's work. As a student of poetry herself, she had not thought she would find encyclopedic knowledge of minerals quite as attractive as she did.
Still, when Gaius was finished speaking, Julia pulled him close and kissed him quite inappropriately.
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94 AD:
Gaius and Julia welcome a son into the world. Perseus Flavius Plinius Secundus.
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95 AD:
"He is not your son, uncle," Julia says, pulling a sleepy Perseus out of Domitian's arms.
"Of course not," Domitian agrees easily enough, "but I can dote upon my niece's only son, can I not? After your father's passing, I have loved you as if you were my own daughter. I care for Perseus Flavius as if he were my grandson. That is no crime. Besides, I know that husband you have chosen is terribly poor and cannot give you or your son the luxury you deserve. I would be happy to contribute to his up-bringing. I already have a few teachers in mind for his education."
"His name is Perseus Flavius Plinius Secundus, and I would thank you not to insult my husband, uncle. We are wonderfully happy together and we shall find our own tutors for our children," Julia says, holding Perseus close. She is visiting her uncle at the palace. She, and her children, are some of the few people who still have the right to approach the Augustus freely.
Julia and Gaius have moved back to Rome at her uncle's insistence. Gaius has been given a job as Prefect of the military treasury. It is a respectable job and one that shows that Gaius Plinius Secundus is in the Augustus's favor. But it is not so prestigious that anyone might mistake it for Domitian designating Julia's husband as an heir.
Julia does not like the way Domitian's eyes gleam when he sees Julia's son. Perseus is only just learning to walk and already Domitian is making plans for how to introduce Perseus to the senate. It is clear enough that Domitian plans to make Perseus his heir when he gets older. Having a male heir helps stabilize a regime. Julia understands, but she does not like it. Perseus is small and fragile and Julia's baby boy. She does not wish for him this life of constant threat.
"Are you happy with him?" Domitian asked cooly, "I did not get that impression, seeing as you have not counselled him to stay away from men who you know seek me harm. Do not think I am more inclined to spare your second husband than I was your first."
Julia froze. The threat in that statement was not subtle. "My husband will not see them again," Julia promises. Her mind races with names of men who might have angered Domitian. Julia knows many men in Rome. More importantly, she knows the wives and daughters of many men in Rome, and those women talk. She hears rumors that men do not. She knows which men still send letters to exiles, which men have lost property due to Domitian's reforms. She knows which men have reason to hate her uncle.
Domitian is accused of being paranoid, but it is not paranoia if people really are trying to kill you. He has angered the senate with his disregard for them, and he has angered the Chatti barbarians to the north in his attempt to gain fame as a general. The only reason the Saturninus rebellion had not turned into a full-blown civil war was because winter had been mild that year and the Chatti barbarians who had sworn to aid general Saturninus' rebellion had been unable to cross the stubbornly unfrozen Rhine.
After dinner, Julia gathers her children and excuses herself. She returns home to the Plinius family domus to find her husband in a foul mood.
"What is it, my little squid?" Julia asks her husband as Domitilla runs to hug her father's legs with a squeal.
"A great injustice has been done to me, my Dolphin. Septitius did not come to dinner! I had lettuce, eggs, snails, onions, barley cakes and I even had snow prepared! It is a delicacy! Yet that dreadful man did not come to dinner. I had prepared a poem and some music so I could share my craft with my dear friends, but not only does he not come, nor even so much as send a letter telling me of this, I have just learned that he attended the party of another one of his friends!" Gaius exclaims.
"How terribly rude. What will you do about it?" Julia asks. She would imprison a man for such an insult; Domitian would have him exiled.
"I am going to send him a Strongly. Worded. Letter," Gaius declares, "He shall be aware of my displeasure and if he does not reimburse me for all the snow I bought for him, I will not invite him to my next dinner party."
Julia kisses her husband, then pulls him close. "Gaius, my squid, I know you will not like what I have to say, but I implore you to understand that I say this with utmost reason. You must not speak to Lucius Aelianus, Marcus Clemens, or Cornelius Tacitus again. You must not sit with them at the senate and you must not invite them to dinner."
Gaius stops for a moment, then picks up their daughter and spins her around. He puts her down and she runs off into the house with the boundless energy only a child has. Gaius then turns back to his wife.
"They have committed no crime," Gaius tries to argue, "They are good men. Good lawyers. Good Romans."
Julia does not disagree, nor does she look away from her husband's sorrow.
"I will keep my distance," Gaius agrees.
Lucius Aelianus and Marcus Clemens were dead two months later.
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95 AD:
Visiting Julia's Tuscan lands was easier when she was not pregnant. It is only a few days ride by horseback, but almost a week by carriage. She had not planned on getting pregnant again so soon, but, well, her husband is far too charming to avoid the wedding bed for too long.
Getting out of her carriage, Julia stares with open eyes at what was once a villa and some farmland. It is now closer to a village or a military encampment. Over the last decade, Julia had gathered many demigod bodyguards, and their families had been given the opportunity to live on her lands. From time to time, she had heard of more children of great skill and questionable parentage via her network of woman. Friends and social climbers alike are happy to gossip about others.
If Julia suspected that the individuals were decedents of gods, she would investigate. If it turned out the children were likely to contain the blood of gods, she would invite them to visit her at her Tuscan lands. A bit of a trip to many, but worth the journey for those who feared they would be eaten by monsters.
"We'll be safe here?" a little voice asks. The young woman of only 11 is named Aurelia. She and her mother Aurelia the elder have accompanied Julia on her trip. The left half of Aurelia's face is terribly scarred. Officially it is because a branch struck her as a child, unofficially it is because a shadowy hound had tried to eat her. Her mother had been quick to act and managed to scare the beast away with fire.
"If the steward of the lands allows it, yes," Julia agreed.
"Are you not the steward, lady Julia?" Aurelia the younger asks.
"No child. That would be I," a voice comes from the forest behind them. Aurelia jumps but Julia was expecting it.
A large white she-wolf emerges from the forest. Aurelia the elder steps in front of her daughter with a cry. Julia places a hand on her shoulder gently. Lady Lupa likes to inspect all who try to enter the lands. She is not always around, but it is better to expect her when she does not show than to think her absent when she is near.
Lady Lupa sniffs the woman suspiciously, unconvinced, she then sniffs the girl. "Bacchus," the she-wolf says, "Hm. Go inside girl. You can meet your half-brother Hadrian if he has not wandered off again in a drunken haze."
Lady Lupa wanders back into the forest without a goodbye, and the three women make their way to Villa Flavia. Or perhaps it should be known as the village Flavia. The families with godly blood have built many extra houses, a meeting hall of some kind, dug a ditch around the houses and have even started building defensive walls.
Her bodyguards keep a perimeter around her as she walks in and people greet her with great enthusiasm. The nearby crops grow with an unnatural fervor for so late in the season. During a training session a boy of twelve glows red as he fights two grown men and win. A blacksmith hammers out a bent piece of steel with his bare hands. In front of the Flavius Villa in the center of what was now a town stood a statue of Perseus Filius Neptunus that Julia had commissioned. A natural spring of water had grown beneath it delivering fresh water to the village.
As she walks around, Julia sees the signs of godly blessings all around her. These truly were the children of the gods. Her own children will be safe here once the walls are finished being built.
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96AD:
The birth of Julia's third child does not go well. Julia the Younger is born healthy, but Julia the Elder passes away shortly after due to the excessive loss of blood. She is survived by a heartbroken husband and three children too young to understand why he weeps.
On that day, Rome floods.
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Author's Notes:
Pliny the Younger writes many letters and publishes them for the public to read. A lot of them are about his job as a "last will and testament" lawyer and are fairly boring. But there is one letter where Pliny is terribly upset at his friend for snubbing his dinner party and going to a different friend's dinner party. It's so petty, it's fantastic. Letter 11 to Septitius Clarus.
Julia Flavia died in 91AD during Domitian's reign. Some Romans claimed she was impregnated by her uncle and then died when he forced her to get an abortion. But those writers also hated Domitian and modern historians think these are lies made up after Domitian's death. So we're not really sure how she died.
Death in childbirth was fairly common at the time. With 10-20% of woman who gave birth dying in childbirth. Not 10-20% of births (humanity would not have survived), but 10-20% of woman who gave birth.