There were no personal effects whatsoever. Gaius didn’t much care. There was nothing of value regardless — everything that had been his father had given him when he left to join the Sixth Legion.

Gaius clenched his fists as memories of his childhood filled his mind: that last night eating with his father at the table, begging to be allowed to go to Rome with Antony. The bed which held the footlocker, and the fireplace that cooked the tasteless military stew, and the occasional fits of anger and laughter shared between his father and mother, when she was still alive.

Gaius was silent for a long time as his eyes drifted lazily from corner to corner, seemly expecting to find something. And then he spoke, low and without turning towards Julia, who remained fixed behind him, still standing between the broken doorframes.

“When did he die, my father?” Gaius whispered as he focused his attention to the bed.

“Some years after you left. However, he hung in there for a long while, still,” she answered carefully.

“No, he did not die alone,” Julia replied. Grabbing Gaius’ hand, she pulled him out of the house. “Come with me, I wish to show you something,” she urged him.

Gaius was reluctant at first. Earlier, this night he followed her without question, and this was where she brought him. Why, he wasn’t so sure, or keen on asking. He was still trying to take in this realization.

Julia led Gaius around the house, beyond the barn, which was little more than a pile of rotted wood that had long ago collapsed, and out into the horribly overgrown field that had once blossomed wheat. In the distance, cast by the bright moon and starry night sky loomed a lone tree that stood at the summit of a slopping hill, which over-looked the whole property from a high vantage point.

Julia felt a slight hesitation as she was forced to stop, once she realized that Gaius had slowed his pace.

“It is okay, trust me, please,” she said in a low tone, easing Gaius along, now with more care.

Gaius knew what lie at the top of hill, and at the base of the century-old cypress tree. He had seldom gone there, not since his father placed his mother cold body into the earth.

Gaius’ eyes widen for a moment as he saw two marked gravestones at the foot of the tree. One he knew belonged to his mother. It was her people’s custom to be buried, and not burned like Romans. His father honored that, but upon closer expecting of the second slab of stone, Gaius read his father’s name.

Gaius stared at Julia with a puzzled expression. She answered his question before he ever uttered a word. “He asked to be laid to rest with your mother, not to be cremated, but to honor her Celtic traditions and be buried in the soil.”

“How…” Gaius struggled for words, “did he get up here. He would have never asked for help, from anyone.”

Julia fought back a laugh as she smiled at the memory. “No, he would not have asked for help, and never did. However, he did not have too. Antony and I took care of him until the end. And when that day came, we prepared his body, dug the earth, and brought him to rest with your mother.”

Gaius was dumbfounded by Julia’s confession.

“He demanded that we leave him alone once you left.” Julia’s smile widened from the memories that she shared with Gaius. “Every day he cursed Antony and, I when we volunteered to cook, clean, tend to the grounds, whatever he needed done and wasn’t able to do for himself. At first, he chased us off with a club, cursing our names, but each day we came back. And when he wasn’t able to get out of bed, as his condition worsened, we did what needed to be done, so he may live the remainder of his days in comfort.”

“Why would you do this?” Gaius asked as he stepped closer to Julia and carefully took her hand and placed it in his.

She smiled at him, gazing into his eyes as she squeezed his hand tightly.

“Because, we loved you…I, loveyou. It was the only way that my brother and I could show it.” Julia rested her palm against Gaius’ cheek as she said her next words carefully. “You took an oath, for me, Gaius. How could I not do something for you in return?”

Gaius turned his sight away from her embrace and stared down at his parent’s graves.

“As I grew older,” Julia continued, “your father would break down as he became accustom to our company. While Antony was at the market, selling what he grew on your land, Julius confided to me how proud he was of you, and excited in knowing the man you would someday grow to become. When I asked about you, as I often did, he painted me a vivid picture, who you were, what you were like, and who you would become. I knew without having to try that it was you standing in my father’s house. I had seen your face my whole life,” she rubbed her hand carefully across Gaius’ cheeks, staring up at him with unconditional love.

“I was terrified that you would have forgotten me,” Gaius confessed. “I did not want to come back, and I hoped to the gods that I would never see you again — better to remember you as you were than who you might have become.”

“Why?” Julia asked.

“We were only children, and you far younger than I. Our lives were fantasy and fiction. How could I continue to love a girl I hardly knew, no less, you… I?”

Julia smiled as she moved closer.

“Those fictions, as you call it, were the only realities my brother, and I had. Our lives are laid out for us from the moment we were born, to the day we die. You freed us with your games and your stories. We could never do enough to thank you for that. You gave us a freedom we could not have attained on our own. You’ve allowed me to see the world through your eyes, Gaius.”

Gaius grew somber as he lowered his head.

“I’m afraid the reality isn’t the truth we believed, Julia. Rome, this Republic, it isn’t what I thought it was. It corrupted, rotting and ignorant of the reality of our world. I feel, Julia that I’m fighting to defend a fantasy that only exists in my mind. Rome isn’t what I once thought it was, not after what I’ve seen and heard over the past couple days.”

Julia shook her head fiercely, grabbing his hand once more and pulling him down the hill as quickly as their legs could carry them.

“Where are we going now?” Gaius asked with a hint of annoyance.

“Just be quiet and follow me. I will show you the Rome you dream of, Gaius, one that even my father and his flock can’t take away from you,” she cried back as they raced towards their horses and again rode out into the night.

Gaius knew that Julia was leading him back towards Rome, but they had left the road some miles back and were riding through the country, now for over an hour, but still heading in the direction of the city.

Moments earlier Julia leapt from her horse and urged Gaius as the two climbed a steep hill. She reached the summit first, turning back, staring down at Gaius as he reluctantly followed.

“Look, Gaius, look upon your dream — the dream that is Rome!” she called as he reached the top of the hill.

Gaius’ eyes widen when he looked upon Rome, the whole city stretched out before him, for as far as he could see. The fires from the countless millions of torches flickered behind the tall stone walls that encompassed Rome, shining brightly like a sea of stars that rolled with the seven hills.

The water of the Tiber River glistened in the full light of the moon as lone ship drifted lazily downriver, heading out toward sea.

A flock of birds flying south as winter’s breath moved from the mountains…

The sight was the most magnificent thing Gaius had ever laid eyes on. It was peaceful, clean and oblivious the blight and rot he’d seen since arriving; Rome, indeed seemed like a beacon of civilization, order and the rule of law that was absent throughout much of the world, that he was a loss for words to properly express what he was seeing.