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For no reason, my head lifts up. From the corner of my eyes, I see Rafaele and Fiero doing the same. There, right above us, a figure materializes.
A man, but nothing like a man, floats down to the earth in all his glorious splendor, clad in armor of molten gold that gleams with an ethereal light, the drips of which are frozen in place. His head holds a blinding crown of delicate gold leaves, I can’t look away. He stands tall and magnificent, a presence that turns my heart so still I wonder if I’m still alive.
As he descends to our level, our heads follow his descent. The minute his feet touch the ground, all three of us bow our heads and murmur—“Great Mars.”
I’ve never seen his face, never heard a myth in detail. To now claim this glorious being as the God from our legends should make no sense, yet it makes so much.
Wake up, Romola! I feel like I've woken up, but he’s still there. It’s a dream within a dream within a dream within a dream in such an infinite circle that it must be reality.
"You have chosen wisely, my children," Mars says, his voice resonating with power. Awe and realization sweep over me as I gaze upon his countenance. This is no mere vision. We are in the presence of a deity, and he bore witness to my choice. To our destiny.
Mars steps forward, gesturing to the split stone in both my palms. "For too long, the Heart of Italy has remained fractured. But now, the time has come to unite the halves and, with them, unite the families who have warred for centuries. But first, the start."
There’s a gentle gush of wind, and in front of us rises a scene. Men dressed in robes watch two brothers fight, sword to the sword, in the king’s public hearing chambers.
The crowds cheer on Remu and Romulus, and we watch awestruck from the benches, becoming one with the times as the brothers fight over who should own the Heart of Italy.
The vision unfolds before me, bringing understanding of the present as Mars appears and proclaims himself the father of the two young princes. Then, Mars divides the stone, making it clear that the prophecy for rule shall be fulfilled when the two halves are reunited by fate.
“The origin,” Mars rumbles, weaving his hand in the air, and now, we’re in a forest. My heart clashes against my ribs with ferocity as I watch Rhea Silvia running through the forest, surrounded by her vestal virgins, her two boys at the mercy of being killed. I cry out for the woman’s pain as her children are taken from her, and she’s locked up in a dark chamber for her boys to be raised by the man who tried to kill her.
“The War,” Mars whispers so loud that my hair flies to the back of my head as a gush of wind surrounds us. We’re on a cliff. We see Romulus exit this very cave, a diamond in hand. With another gush of wind, we’re on another cliff, and we see Romulus spear Remu dead.
“You see, Remu’s diamond always remained here,” the Great Mars motions at the pedestal. “While Romulus’s traveled the world.”
“O Great Mars,” Fiero gasps, his eyes wide as he begins to understand. “That means…”
"You are of Remu. And Rafaele, you of Romulus. But none of that matters. When at the end, you both are of me.”
Fiero and Rafaele look at each other in shock, and they realize that they have the same blood and divinity.
I stand still, hand in hand with these two enemies who now turn brethren, humbled in the presence of a great lord, yet all I can think of is -
“You must be wondering, dear Romola,” Mars looks at me with benevolence now, reading my thoughts, "why you’re here?”
I nod. He smiles down at me, his entire face lighting up with vivid magic, and another gush of wind appears. We’re in a cold, cold chamber, and Rhea Silvia lies on a bed alone, crying mercilessly.
Outside, within seconds, day turns to night a thousand times over, and she’s older now, yet in the same wretched, torn clothes, still crying those same tears. She sits up and looks out the window, and a woman appears. Not a woman—no! A Goddess.
She caresses Rhea Silvia’s cheek. “My child,” her voice echoes through the cave. “What distresses you so?”
“My children,” the princess sobs. They’re out there without me, with no one to care for them, no one to love them like I do.”
“Do you know who I am, child?” the goddess asks.
Rhea Silvia looks up through her tears and shakes her head. She watches in awe as the goddess extends a hand toward her, a soft golden light emanating from her fingers. With a gentle touch, she traces a sigil on her forehead, filling her with a warmth that erases the years of sorrow etched on her face.
"I am the key, dear one," the Goddess responds. "I am the patron of Rome. While The Great Mars makes prophecies, I fulfill them. Know this: Your children are safe, and I shalt sire a line, and a daughter of my blood shalt always bring your sons peace. Their heirs shall fulfill their legacy when the time is right.”
“Goddess Juno?” Rhea asks, and the Goddess disappears just as she came—a fragment of imagination, so to speak. We return to the cave.
Tears blur my vision as the weight of centuries-old prophecies, tragedies and destinies settle onto my shoulders. Besides me, Fiero and Rafaele bow their heads in remembrance of the sacrifices made before them by Rhea Silvia and her descendants.
“You are,” God Mars looks at me with kindness. “Of Goddess Juno, dear child. You were the key to bringing them all together.”
His blazing eyes settle on me, Rafaele, and Fiero in turn. "The three of you have been chosen to mend the rift and rule over a new era of peace and prosperity. But you must rule together, not apart, or the curse will endure."
He walks—no, glides—for he’s a man of such power that walking seems unbecoming to him, over to a crevice in the left wall. He places his palm on the rock, and right in front of our eyes, it carves into a deep shape: the shape of a heart.
