"Varus, give me back my legions." -Augustus Caesar
“Legate Hadrianus, sir?”
I turned about and the young face of a legionnaire greeted me. “What is it, soldier?”
The Legionnaire shrunk under my hardened glare and stumbled slightly as we marched. “Are the rumors of this forest true? That there are German Barbarians lurking behind every shadow? A-and that there are demons that aid them in their rituals to inflict curses upon us?”
My horse snorted as I continued to scan the tree line past the path’s edge. “Absolutely not,” I leered at a bush rustle in the wind, “Those are only old wives tales and stories to make sure small children listen to their Fathers.”
“Yes, not scary stories meant to frighten Legionnaires! Ahahah!” The Centurion to my right added mockingly.
“Centurion Tantibus, hold your tongue.” My lip pulled down slightly. “You’re scaring the poor lad.”
Tantibus elbowed the unfortunate Legionnaire lightly. “Don’t worry, Hadrianus, it’s all in good fun! Ain’t it, Forenicus?”
The Legionnaire smiled slightly at the show of affection, but still watched the tree line with borderline paranoia.
I began to block out the Rowdy Centurion and the Unfortunate Legionnaire as I glanced back at my column and began to assess our battle strength.
The 18th Duodevigesima is only at minimal fighting strength, with only at around 4,500 men. This meant that a Germanic attack headlong may break the line if they put enough power against one flank. Bah, the Barbarians may be creative, but they aren’t stupid enough to attack a full legion head on- let alone three!
The bushes rustled again to my right; yet, there was no wind this time.
Unless the Legion wasn’t in battle formation and marching in a thin column.
WEEEHHuurur!
An arrow pierced my horse’s chest and punctured its heart, causing the horse to collapse and saving me from a second arrow.
“CENTURIES! ORBEM FORMATE!” I roared from the ground.
Centurions began bellowing my orders as waves of German Barbarians began to pour from the tree line, and almost as if they came from the forest itself.
I tried to pull my leg from underneath my horse, but the large battle horse refused to budge.
I heard a sword rip from its sheath above me, and I glanced up to see a Germanic Warrior with a broadsword in his grasp.
“Pax Romana.” The Warrior spit as he heaved the heavy sword above his head to disembowel me. My Parazonium was crushed in its sheath under the horse, and I could do nothing but hope my journey to Elysium would be quick.
Just as the Barbarian was about to thrust downwards, the Bloodied tip of a Gladius emerged from the Warrior’s neck.
The broadsword drop his grasp and landed heavily onto my Lorica Musculata, scratching the polished bronze.
The German fell and revealed my savior: Centurion Tantibus.
The Centurion held out his hand. “Need some help there, Legate?” The burly man smirked.
“Getting this off,” I pointed to the dead horse, “would be most appreciated, Tantibus.”
The large legionnaire lifted the horse up enough for me to wriggle my leg out from underneath of it.
Tantibus helped me up as I gazed about the path.
The 18th Duodevigesima was giving ground.
All around me, my men were breaking under the tremendous force and number of the Barbarians.
“CIRINGITE FRONTEM!” I bellowed to the breaking formations.
“RAAAAAAAWWWWHH!”
I turned about and whipped my Parazonium out as a Germanic Berserker charged me in a blood rage. As he charged me, I noticed his blade drenched in blade- the blood of my men.
The Berserker was on me in an instant and he swung in a downward arc. I moved to the left; experience had shown me that attempting to parry a blow from a Berserker was signing their ticket to the Oarsman’s boat.
The Longsword became stuck in the packed dirt path, and the Berserker abandoned it to tackle me to the ground. The impact threw my galea off my head and onto the ground.
The Berserker held down my sword arm as he pummeled my face and bloodied his fist on my Lorica.
I flailed under the barrage of punches, using my left hand as a shield for my face. Using my legs, I brought my knee up hard into the Barbarian’s unprotected lower region. The Warrior flinched and I was able to use my left hand to unsheathe my Pugio and thrust as hard as I could under the man’s ribcage. The Berserker ignored the short blade in his chest and used both hands to try and strangle me. The sides of my vision began to fade as I continued to twist my Pugio into the man’s chest and I used my now free Parazonium to impale the man in the side of his neck.
The man’s grip finally lessened and his body went limp and collapsed onto me. I pushed the dead man off of me and I pulled my Pugio and Parazonium out of his corpse. I replaced the Pugio into its sheath and I held my Parazonium ready.
Daring another look at the remnants of Legio XVIII, I realized the fate that Pluto had grieved us with.
Only three Centuries were fighting back the endless wave of Barbarians. The rest were either dead or dying. I picked up my fallen Galea and donned the plumed helmet.
I ran to the nearest Century and was almost impaled on a Gladius.
“Watch your swing, soldier!” I shouted, as the Legionnaire swung again at a Barbarian behind me, beheading the foul German.
“I am sorry, Legate! But, there’s… just so many of them…”
I filled the gap in the Century’s wall as I plunged my Parazonium into the gut of another German.
“Do not be sorry, lad! That’s a good reflex in battle!” I parried a spear thrust and slashed the man’s throat. “It’ll keep you alive longer!”
“Men! Fall back three steps!” A familiar voice roared over the chaos.
“Centurion Tantibus!” I shouted hastily over the clash of blades on shields.
“Legate Hadrianus?!” I heard him laugh, “I thought you were carrion food for sure!”
“We need to retreat to a more defendable position!” I roared back as I slashed at another German.
“Agreed!” I heard him yell.
I watched as the brave Legionnaire beside me fall to a Gallic Blade. I plunged my Parazonium into the neck of the gloating Gaul and I watched with a vengeful smirk as the man choked on his own blood.
“MEN! ON ME!” I roared in anger and pain as the last half of the Century converged on me.
“Into the Forest!” I sprinted at breakneck speed for the tree line with Tantibus’ Century in hot pursuit.
I glanced back and saw one of the Legionnaires become over run by Gallic war dogs, his screams pierced the air as the dogs ripped his Lorica apart and shredded him with their claws.
May he find peace, in Elysium. I prayed.
The tree line suddenly broke again in front of me and I found myself surrounded by large rocks in a circle.
Tantibus and his Century broke the tree line moments later, and they all ran to me for guidance.
I looked over the remains of the once proud Legio XVIII, and a single tear escaped from my eye. I had to look strong in front of my men and promptly wiped it away.
My gaze traveled to the Standard bearer, cut up and bleeding heavily, but he continued to hold the Golden Eagle Standard nonetheless. The rest of the men faired no better.
I walked slowly over to the center of the circle, and the remaining 45 men followed solemnly. They knew it was over, but they continued to follow me: Their Legate, their Commanding officer- their brother in arms.
I swallowed and uttered one last order. “Men, testudinem formate.”
The legionnaires formed a box, and the outer men held their shields up strong, while the middlemen held their shields above their heads to protect from arrows fire. The Standard bearer, Tantibus and I were out of options outside of the protective shell.
“It has been an honor serving with you, youngster.”
I smiled lightly at the aged Centurion’s remark.
“And honor to serve with you as well, you old fart.” I laughed.
Tantibus recoiled as if hurt. “Now who are you calling an old fart, child”
“It matters not, Centurion, for I pray we survive the coming minutes.” The Standard bearer quipped.
The clearing became silent as we all awaited the Gallic attack.
I held my Parazonium in a defensive hold, the blade running parallel to my body and diagonal across my chest.
The Forest itself seemed to be alive as trees swayed in the wind and the sun could not shed its light through the dense foliage.
Suddenly, the wind died down, and small rays of light cast an eerie aura around the ill-fated men.
“GAH!” gurgled a legionnaire as an arrow pierced the testudo’s rear and soon the entire area was engulfed in arrow fire. The Testudo broke under the intense hail from all sides and the men were left horridly exposed to the overwhelming fire.
“Ugh!” I grunted as an arrow pierced one of my pteruges a drove into my shoulder.
As I kneeled on the ground from the pain, I looked up, and saw the standard bearer, dying from arrow wounds, but not before stabbing the Golden Standard into the dead body of a Gaul.
Struggling up from the ground, I picked up a shield from one of the fallen Legionnaires; I stood at the front of the mound of dead and dying bodies of brave and honorable Romans that will never see Rome or their families again.
“I will show you!” I roared in rage, “I will show you all!”
I broke the arrow in my shoulder, and brought the shield up to bear.
“I will show you how a true Roman dies!”
RRWWWAAAAAHHHHHHH
The Gallic warriors’ battle cries were deafening, yet I only heard the roaring of the blood in my ears.
I no longer felt pain, only strength.
I no longer felt the weight of my sword or shield, only air.
I no longer felt fear, only courage.
And one thought roared through my mind like a wildfire:
They.
Will.
Die.
The first of the Gallic warriors crashed into my shield, and I pushed back hard and slashed out with my Parazonium, cutting out the man’s throat. A Germanic Berserker tried to cleave me in two, only to find air where I once stood and a shield’s edge in his windpipe.
I stabbed through the chainmail of a Gallic pike man savagely as I continued to fight like a demon possessed.
I felt the force of another arrow piercing my shield arm, but I felt no pain from the hit, and the arrow did nothing but cause me to bleed out faster.
Arrow after arrow punctured my exposed skin, and my sculpted bronze armor shrieked as the metal tipped arrows glanced off. My shield began to resemble a pincushion as more arrows impaled themselves in the wood.
I swung blindly right and my arm splattered with more blood.
Another Gaul dead.
Another of my Legionnaires avenged.
As more and more arrows began to descend upon me, the slower and more lethargic I became. My strikes were even wilder than before, as I flailed my sword without intent at anything that moved in my vision. The edges of my vision were blurring, and my head felt light, as if my galea weighed nothing.
“GAH!” I suddenly felt a searing pain in my stomach and I looked down to see a Gallic blade jutting out from the front of my Lorica.
My sword arm felt like lead, and it dropped to my side.
My shield arm could no longer hold the shield, and my shield fell from my grasp.
My legs could no longer hold me, and I collapsed to the blood soaked ground.
I felt the Gallic Blade being pulled out, and a fresh flow of blood gushed from the wound.
“Ha… Hadrian… Hadrianus…”
With enormous effort, I lifted my head up to see Tantibus not two sword lengths away, an arrow in his chest, and his galea knocked off.
I reached out with my left hand, and I slowly wrapped my hand around his.
“Together?”
The dying Centurion could only nod weakly before he took his last breath.
My vision was fading rapidly, and my mind revolved around only one thing: I would never see my loved ones again, just as the other Legionnaires of the 18th Legion. Hopefully, the 17th and 19th Legions fared better than us . . .
I saw the Golden Eagle Standard ripped from its place in the body of the dead Gaul, as the man I simply knew as Auxiliary Arminius took the symbol of the 18th before the darkness of Pluto engulfed my vision, and I saw no more.
<++=++>
I say that he burns in what Hell he believes in! Him and his men bleed their filthy Roman blood all over my shrine!
Silence, Woden! He fought valiantly in an ambush that your people staged. He deserves Elysium greater than any Legionnaire of the last era!
Bah! You only say that because he was your favorite. Isn’t that right, Jupiter?
This may be true, but the fact still remains. This man has no right to damnation; he should have a hero’s afterlife! It is deserving of him.
But the fact that also remains is that your ‘Favorite little Legate’, bled all over my ritual shrine! He deserves punishment of the highest caliber!
ENOUGH! We must come to an agreement before his soul passes through the gates.
I am one for being reasonable. Even if it is to a Mortal who bled upon my holy shrine.
He deserves a nice life-
-but he also deserves pain.
So how about we come to an agreement?
All right, Jupiter. How about we send him to that World that we found recently? It is untouched by war, and he will live. He may be weak from blood loss, but still living.
How does this benefit you in anyway, Woden? It seems like this deal is weighted more towards Hadrianus than you.
Ah, now that is where you are wrong, my dear Lord of the gods. He will be alive; without his men, without a war to fight and without his precious Rome. I believe that is a fair enough punishment for the likes of him.
Then it is settled. Legatus Hadrianus Scipio will be sent to the new world of Equis post haste.
And now, my dear Zeus- oh I’m sorry, my tongue slipped- Jupiter, I will see you at the next meeting of the deities. Or will I be seeing Zeus?
The impudent god snapped his fingers and disappeared, leaving Jupiter alone in the empty throne room.
Hopefully, this will be a life even greater than that of Elysium, Hadrianus.
<++=++>
My sense of touch was the first thing that returned.
I grasped weakly at the blades of grass between my fingers, ripping them from their roots and rubbing them in my hand. With shaking arms did I manage to lift my hands above me, and allowed them to cascade on my face in a flurry of soft blades. I flinched as they tumbled past and onto the ground, some sticking to the drying blood splattered across my skin.
I laid with my back on the ground and my face to the sky. I dared not open my eyes, lest I wake to see the slaughtered remains of my legion. I forced my eyes to stay shut. I desperately wanted -needed- the empty truth that I was telling myself. My legion was living. We were not betrayed. I was simply waking from my nap under the flowering tree earlier that day. My sight would rob me of that comfort, and that was not something I was willing to part with yet.
I knew I was being a coward, but a man can only be so strong for so long before something gives way. This is not the action of a Legate of Rome; this is the action of a man who had lost too much.
I am a Legate of Rome. I warned myself. I am no coward, and I will not disgrace my men by allowing their leader to fail such a simple task.
I cracked an eye open, squinting against the harsh sun. After holding a hand up like a shield against the tyranny of the sun, my eyes began to adjust to the light level.
There were no men.
Only an empty field.
"Is this Elysium?"
A single glance at my armor signaled the obvious answer to my question. It was ridden with arrows, gashes, puncture marks; even the wound that would have signed my ticket to the oarsman's boat, or rather, should have.
I attempted to sit up, but a sharp pain erupted in my stomach.
I instinctual placed a hand on the pain, and it came back red. "Blood?"
"My wounds are still open." I grimaced.
"I am a Legate of Rome, "I kept telling myself, "I live for my men, and for Rome."
I struggled to a sitting position. "As long as I remain, the 18th lives."
Panting from the exertion, I repeated my mantra.
"I am a Legate of Rome, and I will live for my men."
Picking up the shield at my side, I repeating the words.
"I am a Legate of Rome, and I will live for my men."
Scanning the horizon with tired eyes, I spotted a faint line of smoke coming from over a nearby hill.
"Oh, Jupiter, please let them be Roman." I prayed.
I stumbled my way to the hill, and as I crested, my head began to become light, as if my galea weighed nothing. After a moment of brief blurred vision, I spotted the source of the smoke. A town, just smaller than that of Capua.
"There will be a temple here, there has to be."
I trudged all the way to the edge of the town before my vision began to fail again. I hunched over and leaned on my shield as I hacked blood onto the hard packed dirt.
"Where could that gods damned temple be?" I coughed before continuing on.
I moved without direction, simply pushing ever onward to a goal that could not be seen.
I was aware of people talking. Some pointing, some running. I'm even certain that one tried to assist me, but a half-hearted swipe with my pugio ended that line of inquiry.
"I am a Legate of Rome, "I slurred.
<++=++>
"Sir, do you need any help?" I asked politely.
He didn't respond and drew his knife; I had to jump back as he swung wildly at his side.
"Bloody Germans..." I heard him mutter as he marched away.
"What's a German?" I shouted at him.
No response.
"Well, that was a thing." I said aloud.
I shook my head to clear my thoughts.
"If I want Bon to stop calling me etch-a-sketch, I need to stop doing that..."
"Hey, Lyra!"
I turned around and saw Rainbow Dash walking over.
"Hey, Rainbow. What're you up to?"
"I was wondering if you got any progress on that theme song I asked for a week back?"
"Oh! Yeah, I was actually able to get a pretty decent way into it. At least, at the length I wanted it. I was actually on my way to see you about it but this crazy guy who was all cut up almost made me a Lyra kebab."
"He what?!" Rainbow shrieked. "Where did he go?"
I pointed down the street I saw him walk down. "He wandered off somewhere that way."
"I'll show him to not hurt my friends." the prismatic girl growled before sprinting off.
"You don't even know what he looks like!"
Rainbow back tracked while scratching her head nervously. "Oh, yeah. Heh heh, I guess I don't."
I gave her a disapproving look. "You were just going to tackle the first guy you saw weren't you?"
"I would ask!" she defended.
"Before or after you tackled him?"
She dropped her head. "After."
"That's what I thought. He was wearing something sort of similar to royal guard armor, but the main color is red, not blue."
Rainbow nodded. "Got it."
She took off again in the direction I pointed her in and I just shook my head.
"I swear, she's going to hit someone with a head harder than her's one of these days."
"Dear Celestia, please let her head be harder than his helmet."
Author's Note
The itch to write again got to me. I've got it baaaadddd.
-Leaf.
Author's Note
Sorry for what's basically a short filler chapter, but I wanted y'all to know that the story isn't dead! Long live the Republic, my brothers!
More to come with the following chapters. More blood shall be spilled in chapter 3: Vici, I Conquered.
Vidi: I Saw,
“I am… a Legate… of Rome...”
I couldn't tell anymore whether or not I was speaking coherent sentences- or even words for that matter- but I knew that I had to find the Temple, or at least a priestess, before I succumbed to blood loss. There had to be a temple here. There had to be. I was betting my life on it.
Before I could repeat my mantra again- or was I in the middle of saying it?- I was tackled to the ground.
“Who are you and why did you attack my friend!” asked a horribly scratchy and grating voice.
“I am a Legate of Rome.”
“You, what?”
‘I am a Legate of Rome.”
“Okay, I got that, but why did you attack my friend?”
“I am…”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a Lego of Rum I got that!”
“Temple…”
“Your name is temple?”
“Temple…”
“Yeah, temple. I said it right.”
I blacked out, thinking that I had failed my legion and would die, pinned under a petite girl who had no business holding down a veteran legionnaire. At least I had a good tale to tell my men in Elysium.
<++=++>
“Cutie Mark Treasure Hunters, go!”
“Okay, girls. Today! Marks a great day. Today! We shall go into the White Tail Plains. And we shall find buried treasure lost to time! Or at least however far this metal detector will see stuff.” A purple haired girl ende flatly, holding up an industrial grade metal detector.
“I have a complaint.” A rose haired girl began.
“Ugh, what is it, Bloom?”
“If we’re tryin’ to get our cutie marks in treasure huntin’, isn’t usin’ a metal detector cheatin’?”
“Of course not! We’re just using the tools we have at our- and our sisters’- disposal. It would be the same thing if we used a skateboard to get a skateboarding cutie mark.”
“Yeah, but, the metal detector is doin’ our job. Ridin’ a skateboard still requires skill.” Applebloom pointed out.
“Bloom, Bloom, Bloom. The skill in treasure hunting is knowing where to look. That’s what we’re doing! We are deciding where to look, and the metal detector is just telling us where to dig.”
“I suppose…”
“Sweets! What do you think? Think we’re ready to go?” Scootaloo questioned.
“Yeah! I’d say we’re ready to go spe… spela… spul... “
“Spelunkin’?”
“Yeah! That!”
“Cutie Mark Treasure Hunters, go!”
<++=++>
“Temple…”
The strange man, Temple(?), slurred out that last word and went limp.
Now, I was the paragon of cool, calm, and collected.
I jumped off him. “It wasn’t me!”
Alright, that may have been just a slight exaggeration, but without exaggerating a few things, how can you make your stories cool?
“Rainbow! I told you to not attack the poor man!”
“It wasn’t me! He just… went bleh!”
“Went bleh?”
“Yeah. Ya know… bleh.”
“He’s dead!?”
I was quick to correct her. “No, not BLEH. Just bleh.”
“So he’s just out cold?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you just lead with that?”
“I forgot the word for it for a moment.”
“Dear Celestia, Rainbow.” She sighed.
Lyra took a few steps closer to the man, and crouched down next to him. “He looks really beat up. He’s got a lot of cuts and scratches. I can’t even count the number of places he’s bleeding from.” She stood up quickly. “We need to get him to Ponyville General, now. I think he’s out from blood loss.”
I didn’t know what to do when someone was bleeding out, but I knew how to carry people, and it was something I could do. “I got him!” I picked him up and lifted him next to me while Lyra got his other side.
A determined smirk crept onto my face. “Let’s go.”
<++=++>
“Did either of you guys bring the instruction manual for this thing?” Scootaloo questioned.
“I thought Sweets had it.”
“Well I thought Scoots had it! She has the metal detector after all.”
“Sweets, why would I be holding the manual if I’m also holding the metal detector? Think for a second, sheesh.”
“But- I wha- uh- buh-”
“I think ya broke Sweets, Scoots.”
Scootaloo took Sweetie Belle by the shoulders and shook her vigorously.
“Are you good now?”
“I’m good now.”
“Good! Now let’s hunt some treasure!”
Unfortunately, the Cutie Mark Crusaders’ idea of treasure hunting was walking in a wide circle, staring at the ground, and hoping treasure would appear from sheer force of will.
“We’ve searched for hours and we haven’t found a single thing!”
“We found that old coin from two thousand years ago.” Sweetie Belle pointed out.
“Yeah, but it’s only worth a bit, that’s not treasure.”
“True.” Sweetie agreed, tossing the coin behind her.
Dink
“What was that?” Bloom asked.
“I dunno.”
The CMC gathered around where the coin fell in the tall grass, in awe of what it struck.
“C’mon, girls! Let’s stand it up!” Scoots pushed.
All three girls struggled to lift the pole, but after a few moments of bickering and teamwork, managed to stand it up-right.
“What is it?”
“I dunno."
"Can either of you read the writing there?"
Bloom shook her head. "Eenope."
"Hmm... yeah I've got nothin'." Scoots shrugged.
"What does ex, vee, I, I, I, mean anyway?"
"Maybe they didn't know how to spell?" Sweetie Belle suggested.
"Yeah, because they couldn't spell but could sow and stitch."
"That's actually entirely possible! I listened to Twilight this one time talk to Spike and I about way back in time when people would trade skills but not be taught reading and writing!" Sweetie beamed.
"Huh?" both Scootaloo and Applebloom stared.
Sweetie Belle sighed. "They could know how to sow but not write."
"Oh, why didn't you just say that?"
"I did- you know what, yes, I do not know why I did not, Scootaloo." Sweetie Belle said flatly.
"...Sooooo wanna show our sisters?"
“Yeah!” Bloom and Sweetie agreed in unison.
In all of the excitement to run to Ponyville and show their treasure to their sisters, none of the girls noticed the golden eagle tattoo appear on Scootaloo’s shoulder.
