Out Of The City And Into The Stories

He was just a boy from Oar’s Rest. No, no. They had told him time and time again. He was the hero of the kingdom, the one that saved Naedidor from complete demolition. They had even held a festival in his honor, dancing around the bonfire, chanting his name as the ashes floated into the night sky.   He was only eighteen, he had only just reached adulthood. They regarded him as the boy who was a man, the man who was the manliest of them all, the man who embodied the spirit of great warriors. The embodiment of courage itself.   He missed her. The king of Naedidor had a daughter his age that was still yet unmarried. The king given him jewelry, land, power, anything that a sane person would desire—the king also assumed that a fine young man like him would want a beautiful wife, and so he offered the hero the hand of his daughter.   He wanted to turn down the princess, he really did. The princess had confronted him the day before he had officially finished his quest. He

I don't have much to say today, but I just dropped a new way of downloading my not-so-interactive prequel to a series of interactive fiction stories that will be coming along the way. (Soon, I hope.) Here's the link to my Tumblr blog where you'll find it. (It's roughly 6 MB big, the file is fairly small.) And as for those with a keen eye, you might have noticed me uploading a tad more frequently yesterday. To catch you up with what I've uploaded, there are three stories in total:  Blood & Tears Unsung Et Tu, Brute The Storm Keeper  ...with the former two which were old stories on my flash drive that I never had the chance to upload, and the latter which started out as a school essay that I have decided to expand into a chapter fic. That's all for now, and have fun reading!

  44 BC, The Roman Forum, The Funeral of Gaius Julius Caesar             “Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears,” Marcus Antonius addresses the crowd who have gathered at Caesar’s funeral. Brutus had just left, claiming that Caesar was an ambitious man. Antonius keeps his attention on the people. “I have come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; the good is buried with their bones; so let it be with Caesar.”             “Brutus had told you Caesar was ambitious. Brutus is an honorable man; so are they all, all honorable men . Gaius Julius Caesar was my friend, faithful and just in my eyes—yet Brutus claimed that he was ambitious. Caesar had brought so many captives home to Rome whose ransoms filled the general coffers—did this in Caesar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Caesar had wept. Ambition should be made of sterner stuff.” Antonius can see the people nodding, agreeing with his words. He continues his speech.        

  The Ides of March, 44 BC, The Theater of Pompey             Gaius Julius Caesar is shocked when his childhood friend, Publius Servilius Casca, tries to stab down on his shoulder. Casca is unlucky — his dagger barely grazes the skin, and only a trickle of blood drips down. Caesar tries to get away from Casca, but Casca is faster, and he grabs on to Caesar’s toga. None of the senators dare move.             Casca calls out to his brother, Titiedius. "Brother, help me!"             Titiedius springs forward, and then chaos ensues.             Caesar wrenches free from Casca, rising from his seat. He st an ds up to face Gaius Cassius Longinus with a blade drawn, who slashes his face. Caesar doesn't know what's happening. Caesar backs away from Cassius, but then he bumps into Titiedius, who is already waiting. It is too late, because now Titiedius has his dagger in between Caesar's ribs.             Caesar shouts out in pain. With blood leaking from his

  March 15 th 44 BC, A Small Sacrificial Ceremony             As Rome’s chief priest, Julius Caesar now stands before a small crowd, readying for a sacrificial ceremony just before the senate meeting. His wife had warned him not attend the meeting. She had a bad feeling was how she described it. Now Caesar puts it in the back of his mind. The ceremony is about to begin. That’s when he spotted the haruspex Spurinna across the crowd. The man had warned him that his life would be in danger no later than the Ides of March just a few days ago. Maybe his wife had unconsciously repeated Spurinna’s words?             And now he stands, upright, healthy, and in no way dead.             “Spurinna!” Caesar shouts playfully at the man, “The Ides of March have come!”             “Yes, the Ides have come, but they have not yet gone.”             Caesar laughs heartily, but why does he feel like his stomach has been turned over? # →  Part 9:  T he Theater of Pompey

  Before Dawn, March 15 th 44 BC, The House of Julius Caesar             Caesar wakes up to his wife screaming. It is shrill, sharp, and full of fear — more so than the eyes of the Gaulish warriors whom his soldiers of the 13 th Legion slaughtered until the Gauls were no more.             “What is it, my love?” He rests a hand on Calpurnia’s cheek. “What is it that bothers you? Is it a bad dream?”             Calpurnia gets up from their shared bed and starts to back away from him, yet her eyes still don’t leave him. She doesn’t answer. Caesar is confused, and he reaches out an arm to help. “It-it was just a bad dream.” She reassures him. However, Caesar can notice her fingers tapping rapidly on her thighs. A sign of nervousness.             “Come now, share it with me, for I will protect you, however terrible it may be.”             “Please, go back to sleep, husband. I will be with you in the morning when you wake . I just need to take a short breath outside.” A beat of

March 14th 44 BC, The House of Marcus Aemilius Lepidus “Ah, you’re finally here. Come in and sit, my friends.” Marcus Aemilius Lepidus welcomes his two visitors: Decimus Junius Brutus Albinus and Gaius Julius Caesar. They both smile at him, eager for the night’s discussion. The most of the night went on quick enough—there were conversations on the pacification of Dacia, which was under the rule of King Burebista who had been threatening Macedonia’s northern borders, and they talked about the planned invasion of Parthia after that. Caesar and Lepidus would be leaving just three days later to meet up with the sixteen legions stationed in Macedonia, ready to begin their three-year expedition. Decimus would be leaving Rome a bit later in the year to take over as governor to Cisalpine Gaul, during which he would be keeping Caesar’s troops in Dacia supplied, and the three men talked of stockpiles, supply lines, and other related subjects. Later into the night, however, they grew bore

  February 12 th 44 BC, The Festival of the Lupercalia             The co-consuls Marcus Antonius and Julius Caesar stand upon the Rostra Vetera. Antonius reaches out and places something on Caesar’s head before the man himself notices it. Few people applaud in the crowd. Antonius smiles, and Caesar feels his head for whatever Antonius had put. He retrieves a heavy, shiny circlet — a golden diadem, to be exact.             But Antonius is not done yet. “The People give this to you through me.” Antonius keeps on smiling, and Caesar wonders how daft the man is. Whatever his scheme is, Caesar will not accept it. Caesar is already under suspicion of wanting a royal title, and there are some still who wait patiently for the right time to undermine him.             Caesar gazes at the surrounding crowd. They are silent, all waiting for him to make his move. He hands it back to Antonius, clearing his throat to address the onlookers. “Wel-”             There is an unexpected gasp fro

  January 26 th 44 BC, The Appian Way There is a deafening roar that greets Caesar as he rides on his horse upon the Appian Way back to Rome. Cheers, whoops, hoorays, and cries of joy fill the company’s ears as they pass by the crowds. “Rex!” The call of a voice alerts Caesar, which makes his spin his head to spot a man that was like every other beside him. It was not the man’s status, nor the man himself that brought him to Caesar’s attention. It was the chaos that ensued. “Rex!” “Rex!” “Rex!” The people take up the man’s call, and soon enough, the road is echoing with the title of King. Caesar becomes uneasy; and so do his men. He stops his horse, and raises his hand for silence. The excited welcomes turn into muffled chattering, then there is no more sound upon the Appian Way. “My dear friends from all places, of all ages,” Caesar begins slowly, “I have heard that some refer to me as Rex.” There is still no sound, as if the Romans were all holding their breath at the same

  January 44 BC, The Roman Forum Gaius Epidius Marullus and Lucius Caesetius Flavus stand in front of the crowned statue of Caesar in the Roman Forum. The tribunes stare at each other for a while, and there is a slight nod between them, a nod so discreet that the mass of people gathering around them fail to notice. There are whispers upon the air. Marullus clears his throat, turning to a guard nearby. “What is the meaning of this?” He makes sure that every single word of his is perfectly pronounced, and he gestures at the diadem resting on the statue. “We all know that the wreath symbolizes great Jupiter and royalty .” Flavus joins in, also projecting his voice, “Is Caesar aware of this? Or is he trying to tell us something?” He steps up to the statue, flicking off the wreath and tossing it into the arms of the addressed guard. The guard is startled; the crown itself was never placed on the statue by anyone during his hours, nor did he remember seeing it in the morning when he

December 45 BC, The Temple of Venus Genetrix Gaius Julius Caesar sits on his seat in the temple he had built last year, awaiting the senators said to be coming. He lifts his head up towards the statue of the goddess Venus, the goddess that birthed their founder, Aeneas of Troy, who in turn had birthed his ancestor, Iulus. Did she watch over them still, as she did her son? The goddess’s expression is carefully drawn blank, eyes cast down. In her left hand Venus holds Discordia’s golden apple gingerly, and Caesar wonders what would have happened if Paris hadn’t given the apple to her. What would Juno, or even Minerva have done? But that all didn’t matter right now, since the senators have arrived. They come before him in an orderly fashion. Caesar can feel the judging eyes on him as he not stands but sits still in his chair. Caesar laughs as they come forward. “My dear friends,” he holds his arms out to embrace them, but no one comes forward. Caesar’s forehead wrinkles a little, but he t

“And you, Brutus?” There is regret in the older man’s scratchy voice. He lifts his head to face the one standing in front of him, the one with the silver knife that flashes every time it trembles in his bloody, clutched hands. Brutus only shakes his head slightly, his eyes wide and mouth shut, not daring to speak. I am doing this for the good of the Republic. For the good of Rome. The dictator perpetuo sees the determination in the younger one’s eyes and lets his last words fall past his lips. “Then fall, Caesar.” The knife falls faster than Caesar’s eyes can follow, and it drives deeply into his flesh. ~ Alea iacta est. ~ # →  Part 2:  The Temple of Venus Genetrix

Blood & Tears Unsung             Zeus takes confident steps up the palace of Mount Othrys. He has waited his whole life for this. He had been training in secret for the past sixteen years, and now he finally has a chance to save his siblings, albeit the slim odds. He pounds his fist upon the golden gates three times. Three sharp clangs on the metal and he is in. ~ For a twenty-one-year-old, one might’ve expected someone to live under her own roof, already separated from her parents. At twenty-one years old, Hestia not only still lived under her father’s roof, she also lived inside of his stomach. Ever since then, there have already been two sisters and two brothers who have suffered from the same fate as she did. Kronos’ stomach wasn’t exactly the most pleasant these days, with him downing goblet after goblet of nectar each day. Sitting the nearest to where it poured down was her youngest brother, Poseidon, who always complained of the “disgusting, wet liquid!” Her younger sister