Ad maiora

...

I still can't look at my own reflection. My green eyes remind me of mom. My blonde hair remind me of father. I'm beginning to hate myself and my appearance. Mabye I should shave my hair. I don't know.

The fact that Sulla has the same hair as father doesn't help either. I saw him 2 more times after that first day. I still feel profound hatred towards him. But I also fear him. I fear him and I fear myself. Because I feel a sense of awe when I see him. I think I like powerful men. I want to be like him.

No!!

Not like him! Never like him!

But I want... to have the power to command my destiny.

I can't bear my destiny hanging on other's whims. Any officer on this camp could end my life with a snap of his fingers.

I'm just a leaf in their storm...

I lie down again, facing the dark canvas above me. The night is heavy. And sleep, when it comes, doesn't come easy.

...

I'm back in Syracuse. The street are bloody.

I see dead people around. Something is burning. There's a foul odor around.

I hear my mother scream.

Her voice rips through me like a hot knife through butter.

I run barefoot.

But I can't reach her.

My feet won't move.

She calls me again.

I see her on the floor, crying, bleeding. Powerless.

And then the sound turns into the laughter of the Aureline legionnaries.

"I'm... powerless." I say

"Arian." My father's voice calls.

I turn, frightened

Then, I see him. He looks the same as always. Those blonde hair and that radiant smile of his. Oh, how I miss it. I try to run towards him, but I fall down. My feet are weak.

"Arian." He calls again.

"Ad maiora natus es."

"You were born for greater things." He says.

I'm left with my mouth open. Not knowing what to say.

"Repeat it." He says.

"Ad maiora natus sum."

"I was born for greater things." I repeat after him.

Then, he does something my dad didn't often do. He shouts.

"Arian! With conviction!!"

"AD MAIORA NATUS SUM!"

"Again!"

"AD MAIORA NATUS SUM!"

"Again!"

"AD MAIORA NATUS SUM!"

"Again!"

"AD MAIORA NATUS SUM!!!" I shout with all my heart.

Then, he finally smiles. And says:

"Good."

After that, a wound on his heart appears and his hand is cut. He falls to his knees, heavily injured.

"Don't ever forget, my son. You were born for greater things."

He falls completely down.

I shout and my world goes black.

...

I wake up sweating bullets and my heart's beating like I'm still in the dream

Ad maiora natus sum.

Thank you, father.

...

Damn I can't sleep now.

I throw the blanket aside and stand. The others are asleep. Not that it matters. I know how to walk without waking anyone. Even if someone notice later, they'll think I went to take a piss. They don't really care anyway.

I slip out of the tent into the night. The air's colder than I thought. The sky's all black. No stars whatsoever tonight.

I have no idea where I'm going. I slip past the soldiers without any problems. I've learned their routines by now. I'm used to it.

My feet decide the destination. Not my mind.

And when they stop... they stop in front of his tent.

I don't call out. I just stand there, fists clenched.

A minute passes.

Then two.

Then three.

Then, the flap shifts, and a voice comes.

"You're either very brave, or very stupid."

I smile and answer. "Why not both?"

The man steps out. His hair is graying at the temples, but his eyes are sharper than any blade.

He doesn't say anything at first. Then he turns and motions with his head.

"Come on. Before a night guard passes and flays your little back."

Inside the tent, it smells like ink, leather and something bitter. Tea mabye. Or medicine.

He pour some water into a small wooden cup and hands it to me without a word. I don't drink any but keep staring at the steam.

Finally, the man speaks.

"So why did you come?"

"I couldn't sleep." I answer quietly.

"No one ever truly sleeps in war." He says.

"But we're not at war right now, are we?"

"Well, you are in a war. Just with yourself."

I look down and don't know what to say.

"I... Ad maiora natus sum, sir. I was born for greater things. I want you to teach me, to mentor me as you mentor Sulla's sons. I want to be more. You told me knowledge is power. So help me attain power, sir. I don't want to stay a slave my whole life. Teach me everything you know, I beg you." And then I kneel before him and bow my head on the ground.

His eyes go wide in shock. He certainly didn't expect this.

He hesitates. I despair.

He sighs.

"Lucius, on your feet. You know I can't see you like this."

My face beams and my eyes water with tears of happiness. I immediately get up and hug him.

Thank you, thank you very much.

The old man, or should I call him mentor now gets shocked for the second time tonight as he didn't expect a hug.

"Oh-ho. Slow. I'm getting old and frail now Lucius. Be careful with me haha."

After we calm down, he invites me to sit.

"Lucius. You spoke about power. Let me ask you. What do you think power is?"

I hadn't ever thought about this question precisely but I improvise.

"Ummm... Power is being able to choose your own fate." After a pause, I add. "Or even those of others."

"And what is freedom, Lucius?"

"Freedom is.. being able to choose your own fate?"

"So... freedom is power?"

I got caught there. I'll give him that.

"Well.. power is freedom sounds better. But yeah more or less?"

"Power, dear Lucius. Is a shadow. A shadow on the wall. And a very small man, can cast a very large shadow. Why, do you say?

Because power resides where men believe it resides. It's a trick. A ghost. Power is... intangible. What makes it real is the belief of men in it. Always remember that. If the men around you do not believe in your power, you will get torn to pieces and someone they believe deserves actual power will be put in your place."

So... power originates from your subordinates? Because... they are the ones who make your power real by respecting it?

What am I even talking about?

"But how does one make people believe they deserve power?" I decide to ask.

"Haha! Nice question! Ever heard about Cicero? Don't think you have. But he's the greatest Aureline writer and orator to ever live. He said:

authority lies in words, not in whips.

So, you have to learn how to convince people. Of anything. Of you having authority, of you having power. You have to know how to sell them rotten eggs. Cicero certainly did. That's how he rose to the top and became Consul.

It isn't easy I know. It looks overwhelming now, but we will learn everything step by step. Starting from Cicero and his orations. I will teach you grammar and rhetorics.

That's not all though. I disagree with Cicero. Power doesn't lie in just words. Power lies in power.

Arms. Soldiers. Iron and blood. Sweat and sacrifice. You can't impose your will on the world without sweating. Not anymore at least. The republic and the Aureline system was on its perfect era in Cicero's time."

Then, he whispers. "Not anymore."

"But we will talk all about this slowly, don't worry. Let's start from Cicero first and we'll slowly move on."

Why not anymore? Guess I'll find out soon.

I study Ciceronian texts for one or two more hours before leaving the tent to let the mentor Livius sleep.

I trudge back to my tent, mind still fogged by the nightmare I saw and what my master taught me. His words really make me reflective.

The camp is dark and mostly silent, save for the occasional crackle of dying fires.

Then, a flicker of movement near the latrine trench.

I stop.

I see a boy. Scrawny and short. He looks my age. Mabye slightly younger. He emerges from the shadows like a fox slipping out of its den. Grimy, quick and with eyes full of something wild and defiant.

He catches me watching.

Instead of running, he stops.

And them, the boy grins at me mischievously. Bold.

He raises a finger to his lips.

Shhhhhh

I smile back mischievously at him.

Then, he vanishes into the dark like he was never there.