zaifyrRR
patreon
B2 Epilogue
🕑 Added 2025-10-01 02:47:31 +0000 UTCB2 Epilogue
A crumbling throne room hung within the inky black void, its pure white marble a beacon that shone amidst its infinite darkness. Within were arrayed a circle of seats arrayed around a central brazier, each in various states of disrepair. Most were recognizable, and some even bore some resemblance to their former glory. Yet the same could not be said of the bare and plain space that housed them.
But rather than degrading further, the thrones were being… rebuilt. Slowly but surely. As though their erosion was being played in reverse.
A tall man in resplendent golden armor strode through the partially reconstructed archway leading into the room. The dimly flickering flames of the brazier reflected off his chiseled musculature, every line of which seemed as though it had been painstakingly honed by tens of thousands of hours of battle. A cape of red blood fluttered behind him, its edges tattered and torn.
Mars held himself tall as he strode forth. As much strength as he’d regained, it still took a conscious exercise of his will to maintain his form like this. But not as much as it would have before. Each day, it became easier and easier to exercise his power. And each day, the constant trickle of faith and recognition that rose toward him from oh so far below grew. Soon, something such as this wouldn’t even require effort.
He turned to take in the sight of his own throne. A row of tall spears with polished wooden shafts formed its back, while its base was ringed with a line of rectangular interlocked shields. The entire piece was made of polished black iron and wreathed in olive branches.
It was a relatively simple thing, compared to the others. Functional and impressive without being overly indulgent. It suited him.
“Brother!”
A voice called out to him in greeting. The young man sat perched atop an ornate throne of his own, its golden surface shining with depictions of dancing women, archers, and laurels. Even in their partially reformed state, their beauty would have inspired awe and jealousy in even the greatest living artisans.
He lounged with one leg crossed atop the other. A cheeky half smile played across his features as he looked Mars up and down.
“It’s been a long time.” Apollo’s lilting voice filled the throne room with its melody. “And you’re looking well indeed. I suppose those Legionnaires of yours have been feeding you well, eh?”
Mars grunted. Despite the lightness in his tone, he could sense a faint undercurrent of strain there as well. It seemed that Mars was not the only god expending effort to be here.
“Brother. I am surprised to see you here so soon.”
Apollo shrugged. “Honestly? Same here. It seems like the locals have taken quite the shine to me. Evidently, they have a bit more appreciation for the finer things in life than the soldiers do.”
The sun god flashed Mars a smile, indicating that he meant no offense. It was understandable. He knew that the Romans found Mars to be the god that embodied their ideals the most, so obviously he would be the benefactor of the greatest following—and see it spread more widely. And while Apollo was the god of archery, his favorites had always been the poets, musicians, and artists that dedicated their works to his name. They tended to be among his more devout followers.
“Something troubles you.”
It was a statement of fact—one that caused Apollo to sigh and place his chin in his hand. “Aside from the realization that I’ve been asleep for who knows how long? I suppose. It’s about one of the mortals down there. One that’s quite close with your little army of followers.”
“Ah. I know the one.” Mars nodded.
“Really? That’s it?” Apollo raised his head and quirked an incredulous eyebrow. “That’s all you have to say about the man responsible for bringing the Legion to this world? For beginning the chain of events that allowed us to reawaken?”
Mars simply shrugged. In truth, he had some amount of respect for the mortal. Though cowardly and foppish in many ways, he had on more than one occasion displayed a surprising amount of bravery. Combined with his willingness to fight alongside the Legion when necessary and seek out their battles… While Mars by no means favored the man, he would say he was one of the better ones outside of his own circle of worshippers and adherents.
Apollo tsked with mock disappointment. “Ah, well. I suppose that I can’t expect you to share my appreciation, given your opinions on mages. Although even you must admit he has been quite entertaining to watch.”
“I much prefer to observe the exploits of those warriors among the Legion. Though he has had his moments.” Mars begrudgingly admitted.
“He certainly has a flair for the dramatic. His love of stories, of epics and legends across time, drives him toward conflict like a moth to a flame, desperate to touch that which would consume him.” The god sighed. “It’s making me begin to fear that he’ll get himself killed. That would be a tragedy—and not the satisfying kind. Not yet, at least.”
Apollo slid down from his opulent throne to stand. As he unfurled, the incomplete nature of his form became more obvious. His crossed leg had been hiding a large gap in his knee, while the side of his head appeared to still be in the process of reforming. Fine cracks spiderwebbed across his skin, their edges shimmering with divine light as he moved.
Mars reached out and clasped his brother's shoulder—both for support and reassurance. "I do not believe his thread is so ready to be cut. He has a greater role to play. Have faith, brother."
The sun god smiled at the inside joke they’d long shared. “Oh, I won’t fret over him like a mother goose—I can assure you of that. I simply don’t want to lose such a source of entertainment. Especially not when he’s just started to make sacrifices to me. After all, he could be a wonderful follower.”
“My men will not allow him to fall so easily. They have taken quite the liking to him.” The god of war crossed his arms. “Besides. Would not the god of prophecy be able to know of such things?”
“Yes, yes.” Apollo waved him off. “It seems like such a superfluous matter to dedicate my energy to, precious as it is. Though I suppose I have been gaining quite a bit more as of late… Ah, why not.”
The god's eyes flashed like twin suns. His gaze pierced through Mars, looking beyond his brother and into the unseen realm of fate itself. His voice turned solemn and booming, its strength causing the room itself to quiver.
“With war as his muse,
And his life set to lose,
The father of the age’s great tale.
He shall live to behold
Catastrophies yet untold,
A fate he will soon bewail.”
The words carried the weight of prophecy to them, a prediction and a decree at the same time. Yet their contents also made Mars feel as though they might have been a curse as well.
Apollo blinked, his eyes losing their glow and returning to their normal golden color. “Ah. There we go. I suppose he’ll survive after all! We’ll have plenty more entertainment from him yet, then.”
Mars shook his head. "Considering your words, I doubt he would prove quite so enthusiastic about the prospect.”
“Oh, they rarely do. But you know how it goes with mortals.” Apollo tapped the side of his nose. “Our favorites are not our favorites because they live easy lives. Rather, it’s because they are so interesting. And well, interesting is hardly what most mortals pray for."
"That's because they pray for so many things."
A booming voice echoed through the half-formed room, causing both gods to turn. A regal and well-muscled man stood beneath the entry arch. The pure white of his beard and countless wrinkles were a testament to his age, yet it did not affect his bearing or stature. He stood tall with his shoulders back and his head held high as he strode into the room.
It had been a long time. Too long. And even though the nimbus of power that hung about the figure like a cloud had diminished significantly, he was still unmistakable.
"Father." Mars and Apollo stepped apart as they greeted Jupiter.
The ancient Titan regarded his two children with a critical eye. Even from here, Mars could feel his divine presence filling the room with crackling intensity. Despite the fact that Mars still had more followers and therefore more divine power, there was a certain potency to Jupiter’s own that was undeniable. His domains were more encompassing and more fundamental than any god that Mars could think of—at least, the ones that still lived. Even among the maybe that had split the land in their absence.
Mars looked his father in the eye and nodded. "Rome is rising again, father."
Jupiter nodded. His mouth thinned, not in displeasure, but rather in concern. It was a familiar expression, one that Mars recalled seeing more and more as the last years of the empire had drawn near, just before they had gone into their long slumber. "Indeed. It rises. But will it continue to do so? Or will they find themselves crushed by the weight of the task before them?"
“Is that not up to us?” Inquired Apollo. The other two gods glanced his way. “If they are to reach their full potential, then they will need assistance. The other gods of this world have already shown quite the willingness to put their thumbs on the scale against them. That predilection will only grow as they—and we—gain more power and influence.”
Mars snorted derisively. "The gods of this world are petty things. Usurpers who hardly warrant the title. Huran, Orbed, Silvane… Every one that ever dared to defy us has been cast down, erased from the annals of time and the minds of mortals. No matter how our battles shook the heavens, no matter how many stars were destroyed, we emerged victorious.”
“Be that as it may.” Jupiter rumbled. “The fact remains that, in our current state, they cannot be ignored. While we have slept, they have consolidated their power and influence. Even those mortals who claim to preserve the ways of Rome have long ceased their worship. Those few who know our names treat us as mere curiosities and historical figures long dead, not living deities. They have turned back to their old gods, those of the druids.”
“It’s hard to blame them. It’s not as though we’ve been particularly communicative.” Apollo pointed out.
“That will change.” Mars countered. “No, it is already changing. Already there are those among the elves who spread our influence. And that influence shall only grow as they continue to fight alongside the true Romans.”
Jupiter hummed. “And what of the gods they already worship? Surely you will not be satisfied to share a place in their hearts beside another god of war. And the druidic gods were no small foes, even at our full strength.”
“They will convert.” Mars’s statement brooked no argument. He clenched his fist. “They will bend the knee, both to Rome and to us. If not, then they will die. It would not be the first time that Rome has put an end to the druids—in this world or the last. And I suspect that Neptune would be more than willing to assist if there is a need to drown them all in the sea once again.
“As for their gods… We will crush them again if we must. Or they will submit to you. Our family can always grow in size and in strength both, but we will never be defeated."
Jupiter snorted. "While I admire your confidence, I must remind you of the precarious state of things. As they stand, this rapid expansion is dangerous. Rome has only just established a foothold in this world. It would be more prudent to conquer the smaller areas around them and convert the masses, establish themselves and train additional troops for a few years. Only then should they set their sights on the kingdom itself. An approach such as this… It is a danger to both their own existence and ours."
Mars shook his head. His father had always been more prone to more measured approaches, though he’d also been known to have his moments of more impassioned anger. Still, the amount of caution he counseled was unlike him. Perhaps time had not been as kind to Jupiter as he’d thought.
“They will prevail.” He said simply. “They have no choice. Anything less than this would give the usurper gods a chance to rally their own followers and smite this nation while it remains in the cradle—something that I suspect they will attempt regardless. No, they must grow strong, and quickly. Then no one will dare challenge them.”
Jupiter blew out a long breath. The exhalation rattled the floating bits of reforming debris around them, causing them to quiver in place. Then, he locked eyes with Mars.
“I hope you are right. For all of our sakes. For if you are not… then I suspect our return shall be short-lived indeed.”
Comments
Moses Lambert
His domains were more encompassing and more fundamental than any god that Mars could think of—at least, the ones that still lived. Even among the maybe that had split the land in their absence. "maybe"? Did you mean many?
Athena
Excited for Book 3. Glory to Rome or something
