Return Of The Godslayer

chapter one

Sector 4— Eternal Rome
3036AD

Death. For as far as I could see there was only death.

Hundreds of bodies littered the ground around me in bloody, lifeless masses. Young and old, their burned bodies lay before me. Children hung from barren trees or sat propped against the broken walls, their blood dripping slowly to the wet earth. 

The bodies were thickest in the streets. Broken, burning and crushed by fallen buildings and trampling feet, and all of them leaking rivulets of red that no rain would ever wash up. Some, the more stubborn few, still mumbled to themselves, cursing and praying through parched lips and throats raw from screaming.

Everyone of them was the same, woman, men and children, clad in armor of gold or cloths of silk, aged or young, bald or bearded. Every Roman imponent, afraid, dead or dying. I saw their eyes, wide, pleading, scared, and hopeless. No god will save us today, no one will. Rome is dead.

A terrible sobbing shook my body and I started crying again. Through the smoke and tears, I could see not only the broken bodies of Romans, but also their hopes, their dreams, their every aspiration and desire, all snuffed out and I felt each of their sorrow like ice spears through my own heart. 

I buried my head between my knees and covered my ears, trying to block the sight of the carnage and the screams of the dying. I couldn't block the smell any more than I could the ice spears. The sent of rotting flesh and burning bodies filled my nostrils as I cried to myself, praying to the gods old and new, that someone— anyone— would come and save us from this long war. 

It was useless, I'll die here with everyone else. But I still prayed. Tears dripped down my cheeks to mix with the pool of blood I sat in. My vision became blurry again and I shut my eyes tight, feeling myself drifting into unconscious when I felt a hand gently tapped my shoulder and all at once I was wide awake.

Before me stood a figure silhouetted against the burning sky. He was tall enough that from his height his entire face was only a veil of shadows. "You're alive," he said, or asked, I wasn't sure, but his disbelief was evident. He knelt and the bronze of his sword caught the light. I shuffled backwards on my hand and heels, too weak and terrified for anything else.

"Wait!" the man said, hands lifted in surrender, his sword sheathed. "Don't be afraid. We won't hurt you."

We? I peered behind him and of course there were other people there, half-hidden in the smoke and shadows, all clad in bronze armor.

"By all the gods of old...." One of them was saying. He took a few hesitant steps forward. "She's alive isn't she captain, I'm not seeing things? How is she alive?"

"The prophecy..." Another said and that started a commotion among them. "Quiet!" The captain said and they all fell silent immediately. 

"Who are you," I asked, finally finding my voice. It was weak and pathetic and it hurt to speak but it was audible.

"Demigod," a soldier whispered, his voice full of distain. "Has to be or how else would she be alive when everyone else..."

"Maybe she's some kind of monster?" Another said. "A demon maybe?"

"She ain't no demon, Tom," said the first. "But do you feel that aura? You can feel it can't you? Only demigods have that kind of power."

"But she's just a child— and there hasn't been another god in three years..." Then something seemed to dawn on the speaker. "Your not saying... You don't think she—"

"I never suggested anything," the soldier snapped.

But I was only half-listening to them because the captain was kneeling infront me, oblivious or perhaps simply indifferent to the gore beneath him. His face, which was the only part of him not covered up with bronze, was tanned and hard, with short cropped hair and curious golden eyes. He exuded a sense of power and authority.

"I'm Captain Henry Chase," he said and touched the insignia on his breastplate, a red spiral made of interlocking hands. "See that symbol? We're Resistance Soldiers, and we've come to rescue. You're safe now. What's your name?"

I stared at the captain for a long time, searching his eyes for the truth in his words. "Sara," I answered, deciding to trust him.

"That's a nice name," he smile. "Would you like to come with us, Sara, to sector twelve?" He asked as he stood. "It's a bit different from here but you'll be safe, I promise. Would you like that?"

"I can't," I said. "Dian..." Dian. Where was she? The terrible memories came crashing all at once— Dian and I running, the explosion, chaos, blood and confusion. I felt tears pricking at my eyes but I had no more will left to stop them.

"Who's Dian?" Captain Henry asked. His voice was tender, curious, concerned.

"My friend," I said. "I was with her before but then... I don't know what happened or where she is, but I can't leave her. And my grandma, she's the Praetor. She was at the citadel. She must be hurt. You have to go help her! I can't leave either of them!"

The captain glanced behind him at the other soldiers and some restlessness passed between them. "I don't know where they are," he said. "But we'll search real hard for them, I promise. If anyone can find them it's my soldiers." He smiled again. I held his gaze for a moment longer then looked away. He was lying. The praetor was dead. He'd seen the citadel in rubble. I was the last roman alive.

I nodded and took the Captain's waiting hand and he led me down a cobblestone street now slick with blood and ash and strewed with broken corpse. Was it only this morning I'd raced along this same road? The other soldiers followed wordlessly.

"You're a very special child, Sara. Did you know that?" Captain Henry asked, but he didn't wait for my answer. "The goddess has great plans for you, I'm sure. You'll be something truly special someday. I hope I live to see it."

"You can tell the future?" I asked. There were very few people who could do such a thing. They usually died or were driven to madness if they looked to far.

The man chuckled. "No, no, I'm no prophet. But I can see just by looking at you, your destined for greater things, child."

He wasn't making any sense, nothing was. Rome was dead and so was my grandmother, but not me, because I'm special, because the goddess has plans. I shook my head. It was exhausting and I wanted so badly to just go to sleep. I closed my eyes, letting the captain guide me as my feet marched their way along the familiar road.

"A hero candidate," I heard Henry say but his voice sounded far away. I was slipping. So tired... My feet gave way and there was the sensation of someone lifting me up but my eyes wouldn't open. "Don't worry, the council will know what to do," he said. "It won't be long now. Perseus will be free. He'll save us all."