The Demons of Rome

XIV - Alexandria

Max sat on the stripped-down cart with great discomfort, bouncing and jarring about as the suspensionless, wooden frame rolled over the cobbled road.

Shadow curled at his feet, gently humming to itself in a tuneless, unearthly melody. The haunting sound unnerved Max, but he did not stop it for fear of the unfathomable silence of the desert swallowing him.

The city of Jerusalem had long since disappeared below the horizon, replaced by the low hills and small villages of the coastal road south.

His companions were dressed in much the same dress as other legionaries, except that they each wore a badge with the number thirteen emblazoned on it, denoting their membership of the thirteenth legion. The thirteenth did not function like other legions, it had no legate in charge of it and it and its members were distributed throughout the world, split into small groups attached to each other legion. The members were comprised of mages that had enough mana to perform simple spells, but not summon and control demons. Their primary role was to defend the other legionaries from magical threats, leading to them being colloquially referred to as the anti-magic legion.

The four of them rode night and day, Max using magic to keep the horses from tiring and only stopping to sleep a few hours and let the horses eat and drink.

The legionaries didn't talk much, only as so much as was entirely necessary, there actions well practiced and efficient, like walking, talking machines. As Max watched them over the days, he felt a growing sense of horror towards them. It was like travelling with three empty shells rather than people, propelled forward not by purpose or desire, simply by habit.

On the fifth night Max sat alone with Shadow and gestured towards the sleeping figures of his men.

"What do you think?" Max asked.

"I think a great many things. I think of conquest and dominion. I think of glory everlasting. I think of what I would do with the world in my claws."

"About them. They don't seem... human any more."

"They have watched men die at the hands of demons, the process of consuming a human soul is not pleasant to behold. If their state displeases you I would gladly consume them. They have but small wells of mana but I promise to put it to good use."

Max sighed and returned his gaze to the fire and wandered what he had done provoke the gods to seek such complete and wrathful vengeance against him.

The next day they entered the Nile delta, a gigantic web of rivers and lakes, spread over thick grassland and fields. The marshes had to waded through and the rivers had to be forged.

As they passed through, they followed the traces of the demon army, a small farm levelled here, the bodies of villages torn to shreds there.

Then the horizon broke its flat uniformity, birthing the city of Alexandria into sight. First came the tip of the great lighthouse, burning brightly in the pre-dawn darkness, followed by the palace then by library. Each building a marvel to behold, formed of towering spires intricately adorned and made of marble and gold. Next came the other buildings, the temples, the markets, the guild halls, each a monolith exalting a heritage and people older than time.

They crested another hill and the ringing of steel filled the air. Men screamed in fear and agony and fire leapt about the fields around the city. The demon horde had begun their assault on the city.

"Ride for the city gates, Pilus," Max ordered, "We must reach the library."

The soldiers spurred on their horses and headed for the side of the city not under bombardment.