Their children will learn to hope for a Caesar.


That his quests have multiplied draws my ears upwards, golden eyes glimmering with the same childish, wicked glow that they seem to cling to so easily in Erebos’ presence. I should have known, that he would continue on his path of justice, finding more things to label evil, and crush beneath his hooves, but, I suppose I’d also never put a lot of thought to it, either. I mean, without really realizing it, I’d already been in the company of his first mark, not once, but twice, because I’m as self centered as the Sun (you know, with all sorts of planets revolving around it); all to often, I’m focused entirely on my goals, and forget to look out for my friend’s.

His eyes grow distant on the wood as I watch him, eagerly awaiting more. When I realize that this dramatic gesture is all I’m going to get, I creep closer, moving alongside him, shoulder to shoulder, talking as I walk.

"And what have these ones done?" I ask, lips twitching into amused serpentines. I don’t want to mock his drive to cleanse the world of wickedness, but I also can’t help but think of his father, standing still in the shadow of the silenced tent, plotting the fall of the hornless empires alongside my bitch mother. Does Uncle Deimos find it amusing, too? That the Reaper gave life to a boy, who could wind up deeming his own sire a devil, fit for the culling, if he were to know a fraction of the cruelties inflicted by he, and those who had once haunted the mountain. Sure, I’d told him of the secret meeting (what boy didn’t tell is best friend about a clandestine gathering, to which he’d been swept to in the middle of the night?), but I’d been sworn to secrecy on the vast majority of the tales and history I’d been told of the Plague’s glory days, beneath the withered Mauja, and my deceased Aunt Psyche. Though my mother was long gone, in a distant land I tried to forget my love for, I could not forget the fear of her reprimand, and kept my word to her, though she had kept none which she’d promised to me.

Biting at my blade brother playfully as he continues to pick on my ego, missing, because I don’t actually want to hurt him, I let happiness and silence fill another comfortable void in the conversation. It’s easy to forget how easy it is to be around someone you really know, and who knows you too, and our old routines slip on like we’d never set them aside, for adventure, or self discovery.

"Nothing," I laugh, realizing the truth of it as it’s said, looking at him with a crooked smile, "wandering about aimlessly, mostly. I keep getting my ass kicked for taking initiative, so I’m just going to let the initiative come to me. I did go speak to the Time God, not so long ago."

"He’s a bit mad at me, too, I guess. Something about taking for granted the time I’m given," I roll my eyes with a smile, knowing all too well that the God is right; reaching into my shoulder plate, I procure the small blue stone, its uneven, lumpy shape warm on my lips as I set it at my hooves, "gave me this, though. Says if I let enough people touch it, he’ll teach me more about my magic. Problem is, it makes me their bitch, for however long they want to have me be one."

"So far I’ve been an old man for about five minutes, and almost got raped by a kid," I shudder, remembering that little harlot with the most hateful of expressions a face can muster, "overall, its been horrible. Even worse than being a nobody…"

Looking over at Erebos with a smile, I correct myself.

"Well, almost," I grin, "at least this time you can hear me when I groan about it."