Cactus Cleo, 18 (Male from Silva Tenebris)
Silva Tenebris was a town that lived in the shadows. Nestled deep within the heart of a fog-drenched forest, its people moved like specters through the mist, their forms half-concealed by the ever-present shroud. The trees towered above, their thick branches entangled in a canopy that blocked out the sun, leaving the town in a perpetual twilight. To most, it was a place to be avoided—a cursed land where strange whispers carried on the wind, and shadows danced at the edges of sight. But to those who called it home, Silva Tenebris was all they'd ever known.
The forest was their lifeblood. Generations had survived by chopping lumber for Nova Roma, feeding the ever-hungry maw of the capital's construction and industry. The sound of axes biting into wood was as constant as the sighing of the wind through the trees. Yet despite their closeness to nature, there was always a sense of unease, a knowledge that the land itself was indifferent to their survival.
Not far from the town center, a stream cut through the forest, narrow and swift, its deceptively placid surface hiding currents that ran deep and deadly. Years ago, a horse had slipped into the water's grasp due to a careless owner, its struggling form sucked beneath the surface and never seen again. The townsfolk still whispered about it, about how the stream held onto whatever it claimed, keeping the dead preserved in icy darkness.
At the eastern edge of town, beyond the gloom and tangled roots, stood an estate unlike anything else in Silva Tenebris. It was an opulent, sprawling house built from smooth, polished stone, surrounded by a golden fence that gleamed like a beacon in the perpetual gray. A fountain bubbled cheerfully in the front yard, it's clear water catching the faint light and scattering it in shimmering arcs. At the back was a large greenhouse with frosted windows that blurred the greenery within. It glowed through-out the night with heat lamps, casting a warmth on the surrounding forest. Overall, it was a home out of place—more fitting for the noble quarters of Nova Roma than a lumber town steeped in fog and superstition.
But the estate wasn't owned by just any regular Silva resident. It was home to Leonidas' Cleo, a man who once held influence in the heart of the capital, had chosen to retreat here, finding peace in the seclusion of Silva Tenebris. Despite the wealth and power that clung to his name, Leonidas' had become a beloved figure in the town. He was generous, always willing to lend a hand or share a meal, and he treated the townsfolk with a warmth that belied his status. They didn't resent his presence or the wealth he clearly carried; if anything, they were grateful. He brought life to the town, a sense of connection to a world far beyond the trees. Even as his grand house loomed over their simpler homes, the people felt at ease knowing that within its walls lived someone who cared about them, who chose their company over the intrigue of the capital.
It was in this house, with its thick stone walls and heavy velvet curtains, that Leonidas' now sat by the fire, a glass of red wine cradled in his hand. The flames flickered, casting shadows that danced across the richly appointed room—a room of mahogany, leather, and books. The warmth here was a stark contrast to the cold air outside, where fog curled like ghostly fingers against the windows.
Cactus entered the room from behind him with a calm, measured grace, his footsteps barely audible against the polished floors. He was drying his hands on a towel, his movements precise and deliberate. Without a word, he walked to the side table, selected a crystal glass, and poured himself a generous measure of whiskey. The amber liquid glowed in the firelight as he swirled it gently before taking a sip.
Leonidas' turned from the fire, his eyes lingering on his son with a mixture of pride and satisfaction. "How are the plants?" he asked, his voice warm with a familiarity that masked the scrutiny behind it.
Cactus took another sip, nodding as he placed the glass down with practiced ease. "Very good," he replied, his tone clipped but respectful. "The Nepenthes mirabilis is thriving—roots are strong, leaves vibrant. The Echeveria elegans should bloom within the next week, right on schedule. The giant Venus flytrap," he added with a faint smile, "devoured its latest meal with such gusto that it won't need feeding for a few weeks." Cactus couldn't help but feel they needed a better name for the largest Venus Flytrap species the world had ever seen. A more scientific name.
He continued to list off each plant's condition with the precision of an encyclopedia, his purple eyes betraying nothing of the routine nature of the exchange. To any outsider, his knowledge would be impressive, even enviable. To Leonardis, it was simply expected—a reflection of the countless hours of study and correction that had molded Cactus into a mirror image of his own younger self, or at least an idealized version of it. Leonidas' had spent years and a small fortune sculpting Cactus through cosmetic procedures and rigorous training, shaping him in both appearance and mind. White hair and those striking purple eyes, once impossible to achieve, were now proof of Leonidas' meticulous vision. The boy before him sported a replica of Leonidas' own face, a carefully designed youth meant to carry forth not just his name, but his very image.
Yet Cactus was not merely a vanity project. Leonidas' had endeavored to create not just a reflection, but an improvement—an heir who combined his own best qualities with a polished perfection. Every quirk, every stray trait that Leonidas' found undesirable had been systematically squashed, smoothed out until only the parts worth preserving remained. Cactus had long ago ceased to be his own person, becoming instead the embodiment of Leonidas' ambition and pride.
As Cactus settled into the chair opposite him, Leonidas' leaned forward, his eyes bright with a rare glimmer of excitement. Cactus noticed the shift immediately; it put him on edge, knowing his father's moods too well. But he kept his expression neutral, waiting for whatever revelation was coming.
"I was planning to keep this as a surprise," Leonidas' said, his voice smooth with restrained delight, "but after the impeccable work you did this evening, I think it's only fair to tell you now."
He reached beneath his chair and pulled out a velvet-lined box, setting it on the table between them. With a subtle nod, he gestured for Cactus to open it.
Cactus lifted the lid carefully, revealing two ornate tickets embossed with gold leaf. As the significance of what he was holding sank in, his usually steady hands trembled ever so slightly.
"Nova Roma," Leonidas' said softly, savoring the words. "We'll be leaving in two days. You'll finally see the capital in all its glory."
For a brief moment, Cactus allowed himself to look at his father—truly look at him. Leonidas' eyes shone with a blend of pride, ambition, and something more, something that made Cactus's skin crawl with an unease he was careful not to show. This trip was no ordinary visit. This was Leonidas' grand unveiling, a chance to showcase his creation to the elites of Nova Roma. To parade his success.
Cactus forced a smile, knowing it was expected, knowing that anything less would warrant another correction. "Thank you, Father. I won't disappoint you."
Leonidas' leaned back in his chair, satisfied. "You never do."
Cactus froze mid-motion, the tip of his tongue grazing his lip before he bit down gently. He turned toward his father, voice cautious. "Will we be attending the Lusus Mortis?"
Leonidas' expression darkened briefly, a shadow passing over his refined features. "It's your last Reaping, isn't it?" he said, the tension in his voice revealing a bitterness rarely exposed. "Eighteen. After this, you'll be free to watch the games like any other Nova Roma citizen." His voice softened as he muttered, almost to himself, "Disgraceful, really, that they denied you citizenship, keeping you eligible for the games."
Cactus watched his father's fingers tighten around the edge of his chair as he continued, "I even met with Senator Claudius twice, pulling every favor I could to sway the Emperor, but Titus Aurelius is as stubborn as they come. Citizenship, they say, is reserved for those of purest blood. As if you, of all people, aren't worthy."
The room fell quiet. The only sound was the crackling of the fire, its glow casting long, dancing shadows on the gilded walls. Cactus' eyes drifted back to the tickets, the golden lettering gleaming under the flickering light. The question gnawed at him, a suspicion that had taken root the moment his father handed him the tickets. He knew he shouldn't ask—Leonidas' was rarely forgiving of doubts or inquiries outside his carefully crafted plans—but something in him couldn't let it go.
"Is there another reason?" The words escaped before he could stop them. As soon as they left his lips, he regretted it, bracing himself for the sharp rebuke that usually followed any hint of hesitation.
But Leonidas' only looked amused, the faintest smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. His earlier annoyance seemed to melt away, replaced by the satisfaction of a man holding an ace up his sleeve. "You always were sharp, Cactus. Yes, there is another reason."
Cactus shifted in his seat, watching his father with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. "This year marks Aurelia's entrance into society," Leonidas' said, drawing out each word with deliberate slowness. "The Emperor's only daughter. Beautiful, poised, and at the perfect age for marriage. Every eligible man in Nova Roma is preparing to vie for her hand."
Cactus frowned, his thoughts churning. "But I'm not a Nova Roma citizen. I wouldn't even be eligible."
Leonidas' eyes gleamed, as if this was precisely the point he had been waiting to address. "You're a Cleo," he said, leaning in slightly, "and our ties to Nova Roma are close enough that if the Emperor's daughter were to choose you, there's every chance Titus Aurelius would grant you citizenship."
Cactus felt a queasy knot form in his stomach. The thought of marrying someone he'd never met made him feel faintly sick. He couldn't even picture what it would be like to stand beside someone possibly so different from himself, someone he might never connect with. He'd never even held someone's hand before, let alone entertained the thought of a lifetime commitment. His entire world was made up of controlled, curated interactions, all under his father's watchful eye. The idea of being thrust into something as unpredictable as marriage unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
"What's she like?" he asked, a touch of hesitation in his voice.
Leonidas' expression turned speculative. "Strange, from what I've heard. Quiet, reserved, with a wry sense of humor. Too gentle and kind, some say, to rule effectively. But that's where we come in. With the right partner, someone who understands power, she could be molded into the perfect empress. And then there's her beauty—long blonde hair, sapphire eyes. A delicate thing, weak but still... worthy."
Cactus could barely hide his discomfort. She didn't sound like someone he wanted to meet at all. He couldn't picture himself spending long hours with someone timid and sweet, someone who might cower at the harsh realities he'd been trained to embrace, jumping at shadows. In fact, he wasn't sure he wanted to spend time with anyone new at all. The idea felt stifling, beneath him, even.
Seeing the doubt in his eyes, Leonidas' tone grew firmer. "You don't need to love her, Cactus. You just need to secure the marriage. Once that's done, the Cleo name will be tied to the Imperial line. Your descendants will rule this Empire, and that's all that matters."
The firelight flickered, casting strange shadows over Leonidas' face, making his ambitions seem almost monstrous in their clarity. Cactus remained silent, feeling the weight of his father's words. He knew there would be no arguing, no resisting this path. Whether he liked it or not, he was being shaped for a future he wasn't sure he wanted.
He just wondered if, somewhere beneath all the layers of control and expectation, there was still something left of him—something Leonidas' hadn't yet managed to mold to his liking.
Cactus' chest tightened as his father's words sank in. The thought of being a husband and a father had not really crossed his mind. He thought about women like most men his age did but had failed to give any thought to long term plans. Maybe he'd be a good father, he didn't have any particular dislike towards children. Then he thought of the screaming babies he heard in the market square or the children having tantrums. An Empress would have access to a nanny though, so he could avoid them until they were older. Even then, the number of people he'd have to talk to as Consort, the endless banquets and Senate meetings. It made his stomach twist and turn. He wanted to scream, to hurl his glass against the wall and tell his father he wouldn't do it. But instead, he swallowed the urge, pressing it deep down where all his other unspeakable thoughts festered.
His fingers gripped the glass tighter as his frustration found a different outlet.
Tap, tap, tap, tap.
The sound of his finger drumming violently against the glass cut through the quiet of the room.
"Enough of that," Leonidas' snapped, irritation lacing his voice.
Cactus stopped abruptly, his gaze snapping to his father's stern face. But the world around him felt suddenly distant, a hollow echo. He could feel himself slipping, dissociating from the room, from the conversation, as if watching everything from the outside. He could feel every inch of fabric, the heat, the cold, it was like there was screaming in his head clouding his thoughts and the tightness in his chest made it hard to breath.
His father's expression twisted with annoyance.
"And wipe your face," Leonidas' added coldly, his lip curling in faint disgust. "You missed a spot."
Cactus stopped, lifting his trembling fingers to his cheek, brushing against something wet. He looked down and saw the streak of red, the remnants of blood but not his own.
His mind flashed back to that afternoon—the addict they had killed and butchered, her dismembered body fed to the carnivorous plants in the greenhouse. She had disgusted Cactus, the stench of urine wafting off her, the discolored and spotty face and the way her unwashed hair fell against her gaunt features. Killing was always a neutral act for him but bringing an ax down on her worthless head was the closest he'd come to satisfaction. Yet now her blood stained his flawless skin, a sticky residue of the worthless life he'd ended. It dried into the crevices of his fingertips, seeped into the pores of his cheek. Almost as if she had the audacity in death to think she could be part of him. He felt panicked, disgusted at the feeling and sight. It all brought a strong wave of nausea crashing over him, but he swallowed it down, forcing himself back into the present.
"I'm sorry," he muttered, quickly rubbing his face clean. He forced himself to sit up straighter, the flicker of fear in his eyes giving way to the familiar mask of obedience. "I can be better. I'll do what you ask. I'll marry Aurelia."
Leonidas' smile was slow, triumphant. "I know you will. You always do."
The warmth of the firelight clashed against the chill that crept up Cactus' spine. His father's approval should have felt like a reward, but it only deepened the void inside him. The image of his future—an Empire, a marriage, children the power Leonidas' craved—felt like chains closing around his mind, a gilded prison disguised as a path to greatness.
And yet, he nodded along with his father's plans, resigning himself to the role he had been shaped to fill. It was what Leonidas' wanted, after all, and Cactus had long ago given up the idea that he could want anything different.
And here we have Cactus Cleo from Silva Tenebris (District 7 in Nova Roma). And we also have the reveal of another POV character, Aurelia, future Empress of Nova Roma. Me and Gaia felt we needed a Nova Roma citizens POV and she seemed like the perfect choice. You'll be introduced to her soon.
I hope I did Cactus justice in this chapter and I hope you enjoyed it. Please let me know what you think in the reviews, we love reading them!
The next chapter really is taking us to District 10, we just took a slight detour on the way haha.
Until next time!