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A groan emerged from Scipio, and he opened his eyes. Dirt, and a fire, though not the one he had set, were before him. He tried to stand, but found himself tied to a tree.

Scipio shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. "Ugh.. Did I.."

"Get hit in the face by a shovel?" Konstantin asked, "Yeah."

Scipio frowned. "That's embarrassing."

"I feel for you." Konstantin chuckled, and began tapping his fingers against the trunk of the tree, seemingly bored.

"So we've been caught already?"

A nod. "Seems that way."

Scipio snorted. "What's his plan?"

"Mm. Kill us and eat us, it seems."

A noise of annoyance emerged from Scipio's throat. "Somehow that doesn't make me feel better."

A small smile. "Wasn't meant to."

"Cut the chatter!" A voice snarled, and Scipio found himself staring at a burly bear of a man.

"That's what caught us?"

Another nod. "Yeah."

Scipio grew pensive for a moment. "Ugly sucker, isn't he?"

"You're telling me."

"I said cut it!" A foot came swinging at Scipio's stomach, and he exhaled sharply. Why was everyone hitting him in the gut today?

While Scipio sputtered and gasped for air, Konstantin struggled against the ropes that bound him to the tree. The man who had captured them had tied them quite tightly, but that didn't stop him from trying.

"Quit yer strugglin', you won't be getting out of that knot any time soon." The man grinned and returned to his work on the fire, where he was heating a knife. "See this pretty boy? Gonna give you a nice something to remember me by when I'm done with ya." He turned his head to Konstantin, his eyes wild and gleeful, "If ya make it that far, that is." He chuckled to himself, and returned to his work.

Konstantin looked to Scipio, who had collected himself. "Scipio, if you have a plan, now would be a lovely time to put it into action." He whispered.

A frown passed Scipio's face. "Not that I can think of. This hasn't been a very good day now, has it?"

A shake of the head was all Konstantin could reply with. "I can't say I've had many days much worse." He thought on this for a moment. "Well, maybe one or two."

"Nothing fazes you, does it?" Scipio grinned. "OK, here's what I'm thinking. We both die, and then he eats us."

"Scipio, I love your plans."

"They only hire the best in the Imperial Legion." A pause, and Scipio shifted slightly. His face brightened. "I have a plan."

"A real one?"

"Mostly. If this works, we will never speak of this again."

He shrugged his shoulders, and rocked back and forth, and wormed his way out from the ropes. "This stupid... Son of a cow... Tied me... Too loosely." He grinned, slipping out from under the ropes.

Konstantin stared at Scipio, with a blank expression that mirrored the one Scipio had given him earlier. "You're... No. This is not a real thing that is happening." One lucky escape was something, but two in the same day?

Scipio turned to Konstantin, crouched down. "Shh! I'll take care of this."

He slowly approached the man at the fire, pausing only briefly to pick up a heavy looking stick from the ground. The man turned just as Scipio reached him, and let out a roar of confusion and anger, swinging the heated knife at Scipio. Dodging backwards, Scipio stumbled, and barely managed to bring the stick up in time to parry another blow. He responded to the blow, swinging the stick at the man's wrist, sending the dagger spinning into the treeline. Another swing sent the man flying, knocked unconcious by a blow to the head. Scipio took a deep breath, and kicked the man in the gut. "Stupid ugly sucker." He retrieved the dagger, and cut Konstantin's bonds. "Easy peasy."

"You're really small."

"I swear to the Gods, Konstantin, one word, ONE word, and I'll do to you what this guy wanted to do to you."

"Understood. What do you think his deal was?"

"Who cares. Loot the site, lets get out of here before he wakes up."



A man entered Crispus' villa, with the careless swagger of a being who believes themselves to be in complete control of their destiny. "Crispus, my friend, it is good to see you!"

Crispus, who was busy examining a series of charts, shuddered visibly. "Stanislav. You're early."

"I'd say I'm just on time. I heard you let Marcellus go! Very big of you."

A vein pulsed in Crispus' forehead. "I didn't 'let him go'. He escaped."

"Through divine intervention, I've heard. The Gods have smiled upon him!"

"How much do you want."

A grin. "What?"

"How much do you and your men want in exchange for his capture."

"Well, that depends. How much is he worth to you?"

Crispus replied with a stare.

The grin widened. "I think we can reach an arrangement, then. I'll have my people contact you with your bill." Stanislav turned on his heel, and began walking back out.

"That's it? I called you here, and that's all you're going to say?"

Stanislav paused, and turned his head to Crispus, his eyes cold. "I didn't realize we needed to say more. I'll send you the bill. My men will capture Scipio, and you won't have to mobilize your legion to do it." He bared his teeth. "Win-win, yes?"



The road out of the Capital region was well patrolled, forcing Scipio and Konstantin into the off-roads.

"Scipio, I have a request." Hours of silence broken, Scipio turned to Konstantin, curious.

"What is it?"

Konstantin began pushing through the brush. "Well, the way you handled that man..." He felt a weight on his chest.

"If you make a joke about handling men..."

"No. Well, yes, but no." He smiled, and he felt the weight decrease. "I... Want to learn how to handle a sword. I never..." He struggled to find the words.

"Never had to fight like that?"

Konstantin nodded. "Yes, exactly. I don't want to be a burden."

Scipio thought on this for a moment. "Very well. Tonight, while we're camped, I'll teach you for a little while each night. I'm no expert, but I've seen enough fights..." He let the sentence trail off, his tongue struggling to continue.

"I understand. Thank you, Scipio, I appreciate it."

A nod, and Scipio frowned. "How old are you, Konstantin?"

"Eighteen."

"Eighte- EIGHTEEN?"

Konstantin stopped pushing forwards. "Is that a problem?"

"You are TWELVE years younger than me!"

"You're an old man, apparently."

"I will harm you."

"Whatever. Where are we off to next?"

"Eshtan. Do you know Eshtan?" Scipio held out his hand as the reached a crossing, several armed men passing by. They waited for them to pass, then rushed across.

"Eshtan... South of the Capital region, former home of the Old Empire?"

Scipio nodded. "Yeah, that's right. Do you know what's special about it?"

Konstantin paused. "No."

Scipio grinned. "Doesn't know everything, then? I suppose you don't have many mages up north, do you."

"Mages?"

"That's a yes, then. Mages, they... Do... Magic?"

Konstantin frowned. "I thought that was superstition."

A laugh escaped Scipio, "Magic? Superstition? You really are from the north."

A blush burst into life on Konstantin's face. "It's not..."

A slap on the back cut him off. "Don't worry about it, Konstantin. You'll see some soon enough, I'm sure. See, Eshtan has these... Mm, deadzones. You can't use magic in them, you see? That's why they moved the Capital."

"But why are there deadzones?"

Scipio thought about it for a moment, scratching his head. "I don't remember."



"We'll stop here for the night." A man, heavily armoured, with a sword on his hip, turned to his companions. There were a total of five, four of them men, armoured and armed, bearing the crests of Oran, a free country to the east of the Aurelian Empire. "Is the lady safe?"

The men smirked, and looked to the fifth member of their company, a young girl in a tattered dress, hands bound by heavy iron manacles. Her skin was covered in strange lines, as if heavily tattooed.

"Is here good enough?" One of them asked, seeming nervous.

The leader of the company thought on this a moment. "Yes, I can't see why here doesn't work. We can head back to Oran early." The man drew his sword, and turned it on the girl. "Sorry about this milady, but orders are orders." He raised his sword arm.

The little girl stared at him, terrified. The lines on her skin began to glow.

She smiled.



Crispus entered the Grand Hall for the first time in his life. The stonework was incredible, with great pillars reaching up to the heavens, vast murals etched into the flesh of the rock, depicting the rise of the Aurelian Empire. At the end of the hall sat a man, the Divine Emperor in the flesh. Crispus knelt before him.

"Crispus Fabius, General of the Third Legion, my liege."

The man in the throne stared down at his servant for a moment, then waved his hand. His eyes turned away. "You may stand."

Crispus stared at the ground for a moment, relieved, then stood. He stared at the Emperor for a moment, perplexed. This was just a man. Rather plain, mostly unadorned, and rather stern looking. He bowed his head. "I have had no luck capturing the traitor, Scipio Marcellus. I have hired mercenaries, so that-"

The Emperor waved his hand, cutting off Crispus. "And what of the other?"

A pause. "The... Other, sir?"

"The young man who was to be executed alongside Scipio. Have you found him?"

"I... No sir." Crispus was taken aback. Who was this 'other' that had so interested the Emperor? "I thought that perhaps the capture of the traitor-"

"Be quiet you pompous ass." The Emperor snarled, and stood. Crispus immediately knelt once more. "Scipio interests me no more than a flea interests a dog. Something to be scratched at, but not hunted out. If he is free, what of it? He is a renowned traitor to the Empire, with no friends or allies to call his own." The Emperor paced back and forth before the throne. "No, it is the other that interests me, the young man from the North. Bring him to me." His eyes turned to Crispus for the first time since Crispus' introduction. "You may go now."

Crispus nodded, sweat beading on his brow. "I... Yes, my liege." He hurried away, feeling rage and embarrassment. As he exited, the Emperor turned to the man who had been lurking in the shadows.

"What did you think, Tacitus?"

"A fool, though likely a useful one, my liege." The man had his head bowed beneath a hood, his body encased in a dark robe of brown cloth. "Should I..?"

"No, your help will not be necessary. The boy doesn't understand, and Scipio doesn't know enough to help him." The Emperor sat, and his face seemed to belong to a man far older than he, with his eyes dull and his skin sallow, the stress of years caught up to him.

"And if he does?"

The Emperor leaned forward, head in his hands, rubbing his eyes with his palms. "And... If he does. Hm." He chuckled, and shook his head. "Well, lets hope it does not come to that."