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My vision blurs as tears sting my eyes. After so many years of questions and self-doubt, here, at last, was the answer I had sought. I am the son of Mars, blessed by the gods themselves.
Beside me, Remu lifts his head, eyes shining with wonder and purpose. "What must we do, Father?"
Remu and I exchange a glance, our rivalry momentarily forgotten as we process the implication of our parentage. After all, we are no mortals. We are half-gods. We both must live.
"You are not just brothers bound by blood," Mars continues, his voice softer now and filled with otherworldly wisdom. You are two halves of a whole, destined to rule Rome together as one.”
He closes his palms, and a strike of lightning passes between them. Then, when he opens it, we gasp. For in his palm lies a diamond so rare, so precious, and I know I’ve seen it before. Its jagged blue edges glisten off the walls and the few who didn’t flee the throne room all gasp at the bright, dazzling blue heart.
“This was our father’s,” Remu exclaims in awe.
Yes, now I remember. We were children, and our father showed it to us once in our treasure alcove and told us never to mention it again.
“I gave it to him, this Heart of Italy,” Mars says. Remu and I watch in awe as Mars holds the Heart of Italy in his outstretched hand, its brilliance captivating our very souls. And then, to our shock, he splits it into two, like it’s made of clay and not the hardest substance known to man on the mortal coil.
Mars's eyes lock onto ours, his gaze intense and unwavering.
"The Heart of Italy," he intones, his voice now a low rumble that echoes in the chamber. "Two halves, united in purpose. You must keep your half, rule your half, but remain side by side. Only when these halves are brought together will Rome see its true destiny fulfilled. Only then will one reign live. The Heart of Italy must be reunited, which you shan’t control, and only then shall the true successor be revealed."
Remu and I exchange a glance, a silent understanding passing between us as we both reach out to touch our respective halves of the diamond.
The moment our fingertips make contact with the jagged edges, a jolt of energy courses through us, connecting us in a way I had never experienced before. It's as if a part of me that had long been missing has finally been found, completing a puzzle I didn't even know existed.
"The kingdom is yours," Mars proclaims, "but you must prove yourselves worthy to rule in my name." He leaves half of the diamond in my hand and the other in Remu’s.
My fingers curl around the fragment, its facets cutting into my skin. The jewel throbs with energy as if it holds the heart of the land itself. A well of power like nothing I had known before.
Our star is beckoning.
A name comes to mind for this capital I shall rule, side by side with my brother.
The age of Rome begins today.
I grab Remu’s wrist, and he mine, our battle forgotten, hands joined over the pulsing magic of the diamond. In this moment, I see our fortune unfolding, a glimpse of the empire we would forge.
Rome rises around me, a city of marble and stone that stretches as far as the eye can see. Legions march under the banner of the wolf, their armor gleaming as they set out to conquer the known world. Glory and riches amass in vaults and temples, tributes to the gods that have favored our rule.
The vision fades, but its memory lingers, filling me with purpose. We have been chosen for a higher calling, Remu and I, born to reshape the world. There is power in our blood, a spark of divinity passed down from Mars himself.
I meet my brother's gaze, seeing the same hunger and obsession reflected there. We had always been two halves of a whole, bound by blood. Together, we could accomplish anything.
"Come," I say, releasing his hand. "We have plans to make, brother."
Chapter 4
Remu
The year, 753 BC
My hands grip her hips as the warmth of our bodies become one combined source of heat and sweat, the passionate connection between us carving a path to become one for the history books. Her long, thick black hair cascades down her back, a dark waterfall that reminds me of everything beautiful in a woman.
I admire the gentle curve of her pear-shaped figure, her high cheekbones flushed with pleasure. As I thrust deeper into her from behind, the sultry gray gaze from her wide-set eyes rendered me weak yet invigorated.
"Remu," she breathes, her voice a sweet melody that resonates within my very soul. “My King.”
Our rhythm quickens, the urgency in our movements building to a crescendo befitting the symphony of our union.
As I approach the precipice of ecstasy, my little concubine arches her back and bends forward, facedown against the bed. Trembling with desire, she clutches at the cotton sheets. I place my hand on the bend of her waist and thrust deeper.
