The Romelan Sorceress

The Romelan Sorceress

*****Chapter 1*****
Deep on the outskirts of the Antarian city of Titania lived the Romelan people. The Romelans were seen as mysterious outsiders to the other inhabitants of Antares. A mysterious race persecuted and feared by the inhabitants of Antares, known as Alpha Scorpii throughout the planetary system. This oppression was why they lived isolated from all other people on their planet. Although humans had made many technological advances in the last millennia, such as quickening space travel and making stars and asteroids into hospitable environments, humans still feared that which they did not understand.
The Romelans possessed the magical abilities their ancient Celtic ancestors once wielded long ago. While some Romelans possessed the powers of divination, it was only once in every millennium that truly enormous power was seen. For every millennium a special child was born. Truly gifted, this long awaited child would be like a living god to the once proud Romelan people. The child was called The Romelan, in tribute to its people. The child would be taught in the ways of the people so that when the time came The Romelan would be a wise leader. This tradition had been carried out since the inhabitation of Antares some three thousand years ago. During this time, the scientists of Earth had stumbled on a way to extinguish the gases of a star, leaving an inhabitable planet in its place. With the advent of modern technology, anything was now possible.
After extinguishing the gases of Alpha Scorpii, some of the Earth's natural resources were transported and used in the construction of the new planet. This was no easy task, even with the blazing speed of space travel. Finally, after years of hard work, Antares, a once brightly burning star was now a lush, tropical paradise ready for settlement. About thirty million of the Earth's residents left Earth and moved four hundred light years away to Antares. Among those who left were the Celtic and Spanish Romani who had intermarried and formed the Romelan nation. At first, they lived in the cities with the other Antarians, but the people soon began to fear the magical abilities of the Romelans. The other Titanians were fearful of the Romelan healing arts and their divination powers. To the Titanians, the Romelans were a race of people not to be trusted. Because of the Titanians fear, many Romelans were killed, while the others fled.
After their self-imposed exile, the birth of a child was seen in a vision by one of the Romelans. Tamesis, an aged blind Romelan Vate received a vision from Morrigan, the Celtic goddess of war. In that vision, Morrigan told Tamesis that the gods had observed the plight of the Romelans and they would be vindicated. A sorcerer would come to them in the form of a girl child. The girl child would grow up to oversee her people and use the powers she would be blessed with. The child would possess the powers of divination, empathy, telekinesis, telepathy, teleportation and healing. The babe would be born when the planets aligned and a shooting star flew across the sky, under the sign of the Oak Tree. One born under the sign of the Oak had the traits of courageousness, sensibility, and a natural affinity to be a person of action. A child would need all these qualities to guide the Romelan people. Tamesis had questioned her goddess as to how they would know which child was their deliverer. Romelan hair coloring came in blonde, black, and brown. Eye colors ranged from black and brown to green and blue. There had to be something to tell the child apart from all others. The war goddess said that the child would have a distinguishing lock of silver hair and an eye color that no other would have. Tamesis relayed her vision from Morrigan to the people. The people were overjoyed that the gods would soon be blessing them. A celebration honoring the gods was immediately held. There had never before been such a feast and such thanksgiving. Platters upon platters of food were served and vivid dancing exalting the power of the gods and goddesses abounded. Every pregnant Romelan woman hoped this eagerly awaited child was the one she carried. Finally, nine months after Tamesis’ vision, the Romelan was born.

********Chapter 2********
The Romelan people rejoiced and celebrated the much-awaited birth. The child born was named Astraea Andraste, after the Celtic goddess of justice and the Celtic goddess of victory. Exactly as Tamesis predicted Astraea was born with a lock of silver hair, very prominent against the dark luster of her ebony hair. Astraea was also born with another unique feature; even Tamesis was in awe of, pure golden eyes. Astraea was a truly beautiful child to look upon with her unique golden eyes, silver lock of hair against a raven background, and dusky skin color.
Astraea's parents, Trystan and Raelynna Mendeza sent up sacrifices to the gods and goddesses to thank them for the daughter sent to them. In the Romelan camp there was a huge celebration, complete with music and comestibles. A ceremony in which the Romelan bards sang praises to Astraea and the gods and goddesses occurred. After all of the ceremonies and celebrations, the druids, vates, bards, the Vergobretus, and Astraea's parents came together to discuss her future. The Romelan druids were wise men and women, proficient in herbal tore. The Vates were astrologers and diviners. The bard men and women were singing poets and history storytellers. The Vergobretus was the Romelan Judge of the Law. After much discussion, all agreed that Astraea would be introduced and trained in the art of healing, worship, law, and history until her powers manifested.
Because of this decision, Astraea spent the first five years of her life as a normal child. Only when Raelynna and Trystan, with reserved anticipation told Astraea the responsibility she was to inherit, did she realize she was different. Astraea felt blessed by the gods and vowed she would be a Romelan her people could trust. For the next thirteen years of her life, Astraea was taught the Romelan law, healing, divination, and the history of her people. Upon her eighteenth birthday, her powers manifested and her training was deemed complete.
Immediately Astraea went out among her people healing the sick, and setting right the minor disputes of the Romelans. For many years, as long as Astraea was alive, which was an astounding one hundred and twenty five years; the Romelan people were extremely happy, as their society seemed to prosper. When Astraea's life ended, there was much mourning and celebrations of her life. She was entombed in a casket of the purest gold and vibrantly colored glass. With The Romelan gone the people continued to go about their everyday lives remembering the once beautiful girt who had been their awe-inspiring leader. The elders of the village took it upon themselves to keep the legend of Astraea and the future Romelan alive.
Once every month the druids, vates, bards, and the Vergobretus called the village together and the bards recounted the tale for up and coming generations to learn and revere. Daily, many people made the trek to the top of Clidona Hill, named after the Celtic goddess of the Underworld. It was here Astraea's tomb stood upon the hill, too ethereal and fragile to be buried. The faithful people continued to bring flowers and send prayers upon the hill to their gods, hoping that a new Romelan would be sent to them soon. Astraea had never married and thus had no heirs who could be the new Romelan. Despite all the Romelans were positive that in a short amount of time the new leader would arrive. Alas, the centuries began to pass without a leader in sight. Moreover, the centuries soon turned to millennia in which, a long expected birth brightened the lives of the people.
*******Chapter 3*******
A new Romelan was born to Trajan Ramiraz and his wife Aryanna, respected druids among the Romelans. The beautiful baby girl was named Tarana Imonis after the Celtic god of Thunder and the Celtic goddess of the Upper Realm. Just as with the birth of the first Romelan, Astraea, there were much celebrations and thanksgiving to the gods. Tarana was born with the signature silver lock of hair, against the backdrop of brown waves. Tarana's eyes were also surprisingly silver. Up until the age of five years, Tarana lived as a normal girl. When the time came for Tarana to begin her training, the differences between her and the previous Romelan were finally noted. While Astraea had been eager to do what she could for her people, Tarana resented the burden that she was being forced to carry. It was only after much coaxing and pleading by her parents, that she appeared to settle down and accept what was expected of her. However, it didn’t last.
When she reached her eighteenth birthday, Tarana ran away to the bustling city of Titania and no Romelan ever saw her again. Her parents were devastated by the shame she had caused them and her people. Trajan, Aryanna and the rest of the people effectively acted as if Tarana had never existed. There was one person, however, who did not forget about Tarana. His name was Roridan Masserati and he was a strapping warrior who had hoped to one-day make Tarana his wife. Roridan was ten years older than Tarana, and as a result, he had been able to watch her grow up from afar. She had grown into a beautiful young woman; he desired to have for his own. The fact that she was the Romelan was of no importance to him. She was not so far above him in station that she was unobtainable as a wife. Tarana's desertion of her people was more than a subtle shock for Roridan.
Though in the years that had passed since Tarana ran away he had married and sired children, Tarana still haunted his dreams. Defying the orders of the Masserati clan chieftain, Roridan journeyed to Titania to learn of Tarana's fate. As Roridan made his way into Titania, the people regarded him with something akin to suspicion. His dusky skin color and blonde mane was enough to identify him as a Romelan outsider. Understandably, at first, the people of Titania were hesitant to converse with Roridan. He had just about given up hope, when an old beggar man took pity on him. "What do you wish to know my boy?" Roridan was considerably hesitant to talk to the old man. The man was dirty and crafty looking, but he had no choice. "Can ye tell me anything about a comely Romelan wench that came to Titania years ago?' Roridan asked. "Were her eyes the color of the silver moon and also a lock of her hair?" the old man asked.
"Yes! Yes!" Roridan said excitedly, digging into his pocket and flicking a coin at the old man.
"Well, come closer my boy and ol' Dallax will tell ye all I know?" the now named beggar said.
Roridan eventually learned that upon reaching the city, Tarana immediately went to Titania's town markets, entranced by all the sights of Titania. A man emerging from a nearby brothel saw Tarana. Her bizarre beauty had captured the attention of the king's harem master, Tanicius. He called soldiers of the king that were stationed nearby, to assist him in taking the girl. She was an exotic young morsel that his king would no doubt love, as an addition to his ever-growing harem. Although she had protested and pleaded, against her will Tarana had been taken to the harem of King Mercurius Gonovan, Titania's leader. Tarana told the king that she was a powerful Romelan sorceress. However, the only way she could use her powers, would be if she kept her virginity.
Mercurius found her tale amusing, but not believable enough to leave her untouched. Her ethereal beauty was too much for a man to resist. Ignoring Tarana's pleas of mercy, Mercurius forced her and she became with child. Over the years, Tarana bore him seven children, four daughters and three sons. Tarana named their daughters, Germaine Antonya, Tori Ashtarah, Rania Amaris and Morrigan Jenii. And although Mercurius had many concubines, Tarana was one of his favorites. As a result, he took it upon himself to name their sons. Mercurius named their sons, Talmai Germanicus, Jahdai Antonius and Teynan Adranos. He also vowed to Tarana that while their sons would not inherit the kingship, their daughters would marry well and their sons would have places within the kingdom. This was a great honor to a mere concubine, but it meant nothing to Tarana.
Through all the years that she had been Mercurius' concubine, she had hated him for stealing her maidenhood and apparently her powers in the process. After losing her virginity, her powers had never manifested. Bitter over her lost powers, Tarana waited years for her chance at revenge. One night, when Mercurius came to lie with her, she was ready to exact her revenge. Drawing a dagger from beneath her pillow, Tarana tried to kill the king. Her attempt was unsuccessful and she was promptly sentenced to death by beheading. Despite Tarana's treachery, Mercurius would keep the promise he had made to her regarding their offspring. After learning of The Romelan's fate, Roridan made the journey back to the Romelan camp and told his people what he had learned. No one was the least bit surprised about Tarana’s fate. Tarana's death was a bitter reminder to the Romelans of the danger that Titania posed to them all. Therefore, it was with heavy hearts that another thousand years passed by.
******** Chapter 4*******
Now, the Romelans were at the end of their millennium wait. Tonight all of the people gathered to honor the first Romelan and discover when the new Romelan would be born. Every pregnant woman in the sprawling village was waiting to be addressed by the Romelan vates, astrologers in direct communication with the gods. The druids would be at the ceremony assisting the vates. The bards were going to sing hymns of praise honoring the gods and the first Romelan, Astraea Andraste. The second Romelan, Tarana Imonis would not be honored because of her betrayal of her people. All of the pregnant Romelan women hoped that the child she carried would be the long awaited Romelan sorcerer. The High Vatess Dhisanaa arose to address their deities. "Oh gods and goddesses, protectors of our people, tonight we assemble to discover which of these expectant mothers is carrying our deliverer. The birth of the Romelan has always been a surprise to all the generations before us. Tonight gods and goddesses, we ask that through signs you reveal to us from whom the Romelan will come."
After the prayer of the High Vatess, the pregnant women were gathered into a circle. The Head Druidess Sequanna came out of a tent with a pipe and herbs. The other druids who were carrying various feathers, flowers, shells, and stones followed behind her. All of these objects would be used in the process of discovering the mother of The Romelan. The other items were laid on an altar as Sequanna crushed the herbs she carried and put them into the pipe. As Sequanna made a move to go into the circle, the sky overhead darkened to an impenetrable black and thunder began clapping loudly as lightning streamed across the sky. Presently a voice began to speak from the heavens. "Do not be afraid my people. It is I, the Sky Father, Taranis the Thunderer. I have heard your plea and tonight, the child’s mother will be revealed to you all. Everything that the druids have brought out will be used in the lot casting process. Blindfold the women and put each of the items in an individual pouch. Each mother will pick an item blindfolded and the mothers that pick the right flower, feather, shell, and stone will smoke the pipe."
"What is the right flower, feather, shell, and stone oh Sky Father?” Dhisanaa asked braver than she felt. It was not every day that the king of the Celtic gods audibly spoke to his followers. "The women that chose a blue feather, a borage flower, a sand dollar, and a quartz crystal will smoke the pipe. The woman who sees the signs of a fish, hare, horse, bird, serpent and a dragon in the smoke is carrying the Romelan. In a short time the answer to your question will be revealed", Taranis, prophesied, as the lightning and thunder stopped just as suddenly as it began. The people noticeably exhaled a breath. "Thank you Sky Father," High Vatess Dhisanaa said bowing low to the ground. "We will do exactly as Taranis has said," Sequanna said as she bagged the items like the god had commanded. Once the items were bagged, Sequanna and Dhisanaa pulled strips of cloth from out of their robes. They gave their cloths to the lower druids and vates and instructed them to blindfold the women. Sequanna and Dhisanaa approached the first blindfolded woman. “Select a feather," Dhisanaa instructed. The woman reached into the bag and withdrew a white feather. "You are not carrying the Romelan. You have chosen a white feather, the sign of purification and spirituality,"
Dhisanaa informed the mother. The feather was taken from the woman and put back into the bag; she was unblindfolded and sent back into the crowd.
The High Vatess and Druidess moved to the next woman. She drew a green feather, a sign of fertility and riches. The next woman drew a brown feather, signifying health and stability. Dhisanaa and Sequanna continued. An orange feather was chosen meaning success and attraction. Then yellow for an intelligent child. Red for a courageous child. Pink for a child that would know real love. Then finally, many women drew the elusive blue in a streak of succession. A blue feather stood for psychic awareness. A sure sign of The Romelan's power. The feather pouch was taken away and the pouch containing the flowers was brought forward. The women that had chosen the blue feather were now to select a flower. The first flower drawn was a clover, a sign of good luck to the unborn child. A daisy was then chosen, a symbol of innocence. Jasmine, to herald an attractive child. Mayflowers, to signify the child would always be in the midst of adventure and chaos. Then the violet was chosen, symbolizing honesty and virtue. Finally, the borage flower was chosen by some of the women, a sign of courageousness, which a Romelan would need to lead her people.
The pouch containing the flowers was taken away and the sack that held the shells was brought forward. The remaining blindfolded women chose from the sack. First, an oyster was chosen, promising good fortune. Then a tooth shell, a sign of coming wealth. Next, an olive shell, hinting at healing capability. A scallop was chosen, as a sign of travel and movement. At last, the sand dollar, a sign of wisdom, was chosen. To lead her people into an age of prosperity, The Romelan would need to be wise in her decision-making. The final vessel, filled with the stones was brought forward, for the women to make their selections. Now, only about fifteen blindfolded women remained, and while the process was taking some time, the people waited with bated breath, to see how many women would progress to smoking the herbal pipe. Two women chose a rose quartz, a sign of a child with many friends. Three women chose aquarmine, a symbol of purification. One woman chose, an amethyst, denoting a happy child. Another woman chose a calcite stone, promising a spiritual child. In the end, the last eight women selected the quart crystal, a sign of protection from the gods.
The remaining eight women were now unblindfolded. Whatever appeared in the smoke, they would have the right to see. Dhisanaa took the pipe in her hand and walked toward the first woman in the line of awaiting women. Dhisanaa instructed the first young woman to inhale the smoke and slowly blow it out. The crowd waited breathlessly, as the blue smoke swirled in the air. Presently, all could see the form of a boar. "Your child will be a courageous and strong warrior, just as the wild boar," Dhisanaa informed the mother. The young woman visibly released a sigh of relief at the news. Dhisanaa smiled and moved to the next woman. The woman eagerly accepted the pipe and blew the blue smoke. The blue smoke formed a hare. "Your child will know good fortune in his or her lifetime." The happy mother smiled and lifted her hands in thanks to the gods.
Dhisanaa moved to the next woman in the line, and became struck by her beauty. While all Romelan women were beautiful because of their mixed heritage, the features of this woman were breathtaking. Her hair was golden blonde and her eyes were the color of lilacs. The young woman's face radiated a child's innocence. As Dhisanaa handed, the young creature the pipe, she wondered what the smoke would reveal. The beautiful girl inhaled and exhaled the torrent blue smoke. Everyone could see a fish, and Dhisanaa was just about to speak, when a strange thing happened. The fish remained, but a dragon, a horse, a bird, and a serpent appeared alongside the fish. The crowd released a breath, waiting to see what would happen next. As soon, as Dhisanaa saw the smoke, she knew this young girl was carrying The Romelan sorceress. Dhisanaa breathed a relieved sigh. Well, at last the people had answer to their question. No more would they have to wait and wonder. The gods were to be praised.

******Chapter 5*****
Trying not to betray any of the emotions that she felt, Dhisanaa kept her eyes locked on the young woman in front of her. “The fish symbolizes clairvoyance. The serpent is a sign of divine wisdom. The bird is a sign of prophesy. The horse represents sovereignty. The sign of the dragon represents the guardian spirit. You are carrying the Romelan Sorceress,” Dhisanaa informed the girl and the crowd. Immediately a cheer of rejoicing went up from those assembled. Smiling herself, Dhisanaa turned her attention away from the young woman in front of her to the rambunctious crowd. She raised her arms as a signal of silence, before she turned her attention back to the young mother. “How old are you my dear?” Dhisanaa questioned softly.
“I have seen seventeen seasons High Vatess,” the young woman answered respectfully.
“What is your name young lady?” Dhisanaa interrogated.
“I am Syrene Rowena, formerly of the clan of Romero, now of the Serrano clan.”
“And is this the first child for you and your husband?” Dhisanaa prodded. Sequanna, who had been standing with the other druids a distance away, came forward and stood next to Dhisanaa. Being a scholar of Romelan History, the clan names of Romero and Serrano were familiar to her.
Before Syrene could answer the High Vatess’ question, a male voice answered for her. “Yes it is, High Vatess”. Presently the man to whom the voice belonged made his way through the crowd and to his wife’s side where he slid his arm about Syrene’s very pregnant waist. “What is your name, blessed father to be?” Dhisanaa asked, turning her attention to the handsome man beside Syrene. “I am Jago Javan Serrano, High Vatess and I have seen thirty seasons.” Dhisanaa was not the least bit surprised by Jago’s age. The common Romelan custom was for an older man to marry a teenage girl and sire many children. Jago was as striking as his young wife was. His hair was a curly brown nest and his eyes were the color of sea green. From the adoring way that Syrene gazed at her husband, it was evident that she was content being a youthful bride. Jago’s arm about his wife’s waist spoke volumes about the possessiveness he felt about her. Turning her attention back to the now beaming Syrene, Dhisanaa asked, “How far along are you in your pregnancy?”
“About eight full moons,” Syrene answered rubbing her large belly. As Sequanna listened to the conversation between the Serranos and Dhisanaa, her mind took a trip through the Romelan history. Now it was so clear why the names Romero and Serrano sounded so familiar to her. “The clans of Serrano and Romero were cousins to the clans of Ramiraz and Mendeza, the clans of the first two Romelans, Astraea Andraste and the deserter Tarana Imonis. It is no surprise that through your clans, the Romelan will come. The blood that runs through your veins is ancient and sacred,” Sequanna informed the Serranos and the Romelan assembly.
Immediately a loud cheer went up from the Romelan congregation. Sequanna and Dhisanaa smiled at each other and let the crowd continue to cheer before signaling for silence again. Jago looked down at his young wife and smiled, moving his hand to Syrene’s very pregnant stomach. “Your child will be born under the sign of the Alder Tree. Your daughter will be as courageous as a warrior, sincere, honest, and able to command the powers of the mysterious that we have yet to understand. Finding a mate that is worthy of her will be difficult for your daughter, but if that is truly what she desires, then it can be done. Born under the sign of war, Morrigan will be her patron goddess,” Dhisanaa informed the Serranos and the rest of the Romelan congregation. “We are very much blessed by the gods,” Jago acknowledged.
“Yes you are. The whole Romelan Nation is blessed. Come, let us kneel and pray to the gods and goddesses in thanks,” Dhisanaa ordered. Jago and Syrene were presently surrounded by the Romelan Vates, Druids, Bards, and the Vergobretus. Jago carefully helped his very pregnant wife to her knees, before kneeling down beside her. Dhisanaa lead her druid brothers and sisters in prayer. “We thank you gods and goddesses. Everything is just as you said it would be Sky Father. Your people give thanks for the deliverance that you are sending to use. For time immeasurable, you have watched over your people and you continue to do so. We ask that you bless the parents of this treasure that you are sending to us. Give Jago and Syrene the wisdom to nurture and raise this child, as you would have them. Let the name of this daughter live on in our history. Please bless your vates, gods and goddesses. Stay in contact with us so that we know how to lead and direct this child when the time will come. Please also bless the Vergobretus, the druids, and the bards. Please keep your people safe and strong oh gods. Let us not make the same mistakes as our forefathers,” Dhisanaa beseeched, ending her prayer.
The circle of people rose and Jago gingerly helped his wife to her feet before he spoke, “We will not disappoint our gods and goddesses, or our people. We are awed by the responsibility given to us, and we will do everything in our power for the good of this child.” Syrene nodded her head in confirmation of her husband’s words. “We will hold a ceremony when your daughter is born where we will ask for individual blessings from our deities and discuss your daughter’s future. Now we will have a song from our bards,” Dhisanaa said, motioning her hands for the young men and women to come forward. Presently the sounds of the flute and lyre could be heard as the bards began to sing:
Long ago when Antares was new
We thought the evil of our world was through
But because of our magical abilities
The others became so deeply fearing
Nevertheless, things could not continue the way they were
Moreover, the depth of their hate was unearthed
They killed our people and ran us away
To the place where we are today

But the gods heard our cry and sent a message to us
Do not worry for in nine months
A child will arrive that can heal your wounds
And bring prosperity to you
As long as she lives, she has our power
Until her last hour
Astraea Andraste Ramiraz
The first and the best
She brought joy to our people and loved us all
Death was her only downfall

She served her people well
Put others needs above herself
The good of her people was her only concern
For her presence we still yearn
On top of Clidona Hill she sets
A part of the Underworld next
Now we wait for Romelan number three
Looked forward to by all you see
Only a month remains
Until the Romelan walks among us to ease our pain

When the bards finished their song, the people clapped loudly. After receiving their adulation, the bards moved to rejoin the crowd and Dhisanaa came forward to address the crowd one last time. “Thank you bards for your lovely tale. This night has given much joy to all of us. You may all return to your homes.” The crowd began to disperse. All were excited about the turn of events that had taken place this evening. None noticed the two men hiding in the forest that surrounded their home.

******Chapter 6******
The two unseen spectators gave each other a nod and quietly began their retreat away from the Romelan camp. They made their way to the stallions that they had hidden nearby and mounted, galloping back to Titania. Both were wondering how the information that they had learned on this mission would benefit them. They had been sent to spy on the Romelan camp by their king who knew of the Romelan legend of a powerful sorceress born to the people. Titania’s king wanted to know if the rumors were true. The rumors were indeed deliciously true and the two emissaries wondered what their king would do when they informed him of what they had learned. They would not have to wait much longer, as they were approaching home, Titania. Titania was a bustling city reminiscent of the glory days of ancient Rome. The inhabitants of Titania, themselves were descendants of the ancient Romans of Earth, thus inspiring the Roman culture and architecture of Titania. Their leader, King Romulus Juventius could trace his lineage to the most famous Roman of them all, Julius Caesar.
Antares was full of other kingdoms and many nationalities of people. Many of these other nations in their respective beginning had decided to go back to the culture of ancient earthen times. The ways of life of past times were brought back and many modern conveniences were abandoned, though not all. There were modern cities that were neighbors to Titania, such as Spacia that had scientists on the up and up of technology. The mode of transportation around Spacia was by air. However, Titania’s closest neighboring city, Madaenaz was built in the style of ancient Egypt. The Pharaoh of Madaenaz, Tarik and King Romulus had often done trade between their two kingdoms. The planet Antares was truly a wonder to behold, but Alpha Scorpii was not without its problems. Just like their age-old predecessors and modern day earthen kin, there was war and death on Antares. Kingdoms fought against one another in the hopes of becoming the Supreme Ruler of Alpha Scorpii. Marcus and Arion, the two infiltrators, figured this Supreme Ruler business was why King Romulus was so eager to know the truth about the exiled Romelans after all the years that they had been gone from Titania.
Now they would know what the King’s motives were as they moved down the palace corridors toward the Throne Room. They found their king playing with his son and heir, five-year-old Tyranius Maximus, affectionately called Tarin by his father. Seeing his operatives returning, Romulus scooped up his son and handed him to his caretaker who led Tarin by the hand from the room. Smiling fondly at his departing son, Romulus moved to sit upon his throne. He was an imposing figure to anyone. A little over seven feet tall with raven black hair and finely chiseled features, Romulus struck fear into the hearts of his enemies. His sun kissed skin color and corded muscled body were testaments to his Roman lineage. His fierceness in battle was legendary on Antares. Relaxing on his giant gold throne, Romulus addressed Marcus first. “Lieutenant Marcus, what have you learned about the exiled Romelans?” the king probed.
“Well, my lord the rumors are quite true. Tonight the heavens opened up and the leader of their heathen gods spoke to them. He told them how to find out which one of the women is carrying the child. The child is coming in a month’s time. Arion and I saw and heard everything at their pagan ceremony this evening.”
“And Colonel Arion what have you to report?” the King asked.
“Well sire they went through a lot casting process you might say, drawing different objects to narrow down the field of pregnant women. Then the women smoked from a pipe and one of their vates explained what the things they saw in the smoke symbolized,” Arion explained.
“A fascinating process. It appears these people have been quite underestimated. Nevertheless, about this god business, both you know that the Roman gods are the only real deities. What you saw must have been an imitation of some sort,” Romulus said.
“Your highness I beg to differ. How could they possibly make the sky turn black and make the sky light up with lightening and thunder? Is it possible that they pray to the same gods we do, but call them different names?” Arion asked.
“That is a theory, but why would our gods bless those mix breeds instead of us? I refuse to believe that Zeus would bless a heathen race instead of his own followers,” Romulus said sticking to his beliefs.
“Your Excellency,” Lieutenant Marcus said breaking in, “I think you may be very interested in the Romelan wenches.”
“And why would that be Lieutenant?” Romulus asked, forgetting about his discussion with Colonel Arion.
“My Lord, the wenches are comely and would no doubt make wonderful additions to your harem, or they could be given as incentives to the soldiers. The wench that is pregnant with the child is the most beautiful of them all. Her name is Syrene Serrano and her hair is the color of the sun’s rays. Her eyes are the color of amethyst jewels,” Marcus described in appreciation.
“The wench sounds comely enough. How old is she?” Romulus questioned.
“She’s seventeen your grace and The Romelan is her first child,” Arion answered rejoining the conversation.
“And in a month’s time she will deliver the child?” King Romulus checked again.
“Yes sire. When the baby is born the Romelans are going to have another pagan ceremony to beseech their gods and decide how best to train the child to use her powers,” Marcus informed the King.
“So this would be the perfect opportunity to catch the Romelans at their most vulnerable?” the King vocalized his thought.
“Yes my lord,” Arion answered, military plans already running in his head
“Take some of the men and have them monitor the movements in the Romelan camp until the child is born. During the celebration take a force of men and attack the camp. I want the Romelans brought alive. Bring the child and the woman to me,” Romulus ordered.
“My lord,” Arion probed, “What exactly do you plan to do with all of these people? The sheer numbers of them is staggering. And what about the mother and child?”
“Wise questions Colonel Arion,” Romulus conceded, “Some of the wenches will be placed in Titania’s brothels. Some of the soldiers will be gifted with Romelan wives. The most fetching damsels will join my harem, and the others will become captives and slaves in the palace. The Romelan men will have a choice. They can serve in my army or become slaves, and if they refuse, then they will be killed. As for the wench, Syrene, if she is as beautiful as you say she is she will be my favorite Romelan whore,” Romulus revealed.
“What about the child?” Lieutenant Marcus asked, now more than a little intrigued with the plan his king had in mind.
“Ah yes the Romelan child. She will be my secret weapon. With the powers of the Romelan child under my control, Titania will reign supreme on Antares.”
“A wise and spectacular plan, your grace,” Colonel Arion admitted.
“Yes it is gentlemen. Now go. Plans must be made for this brilliant scheme to occur.”
“Yes my lord,” Arion and Marcus said bowing low before leaving. As Romulus sat alone in the Throne Room, he thought about some of the finer points of the plan that he had neglected. Should he keep the Romelan dignitaries alive? Tradition dictated that they were the ones who oversaw the training of the gifted child. He would spare them if they agreed to cooperate, if not they would be dealt with just like any other rebel. He wondered if when the girl was old enough, she could become an addition to his harem. The thought of having a mother and daughter had merit. His lieutenant and colonel could not even fathom the magnitude of how important this plan was to him.
Getting up from his throne and exiting the Throne Room, Romulus made his way to the Great Hall. The room contained a gold plated family tree that traced the ancestry of the kings of Titania from the first king until his tenure on the throne now. Having the Romelan wench as his personal sorceress would be bringing back a piece of his past that few knew about. Besides a connection to Julius Caesar, King Romulus could trace his Antarian ancestry to the first king of the second millennium in Titania, Mercurius Gonovan. He knew his family’s history as he knew his name. Mercurius had a Romelan concubine named Tarana Imonis that bore him seven children. Tarana was a Romelan runaway who became a captive of the king’s harem master, and was taken by force to Mercurius. Tarana was said to have been the Romelan sorceress. After Mercurius took her maidenhead, she had never been able to use her powers. He wondered if the same would happen to the Romelan child he planned to steal if he deflowered her. Mercurius and Tarana’s middle son Jahdai Antonius was to whom he could trace his lineage. Jahdai had been a commander in his father’s military and married into a noble family, siring many children. Romulus had ancient Romelan blood flowing through his veins, not to mention his son Tarin.
Tarin’s mother, his dear departed wife, Alexia Asheva was another descendant of Mercurius and Tarana. Alexia had died in labor with their second child, a stillborn little girl he had named Davina Marcella. Alexia’s family could trace their family history to Mercurius and Tarana’s daughter third daughter, Rania Amaris who had married one of her father’s generals. Rania had given her husband two sons and a daughter before dying in childbirth. Tarin had powerful Romelan blood from both of his parents running through his veins and did not even know it. Romulus knew about it, and as a result, he appreciated it. From the enslaved Romelans, Romulus would learn all he could about their civilization and way of life; after all, they were his people too. Exhaling a breath, he made his way from the Great Hall and went in search of his son. Tarin was the reason for his plan. He wanted a secure future for his son, in which Tarin was the undisputed Sovereign Lord of Alpha Scorpii. Even if Romulus did not live to see Tarin enjoy all that his father had achieved, all his time and effort would be worth it. Some things in life came with a price, and Romulus was willing to pay that price so that his son would not have to.

******Chapter 7*****
That night, as they lay in bed, Jago held Syrene close. “My love do you believe the enormity of all that has happened tonight?” he asked somewhat reverently.
“Nay, my husband. It is hard to take in. I, a simple Romelan wench am carrying the hope of our nation in my womb,” Syrene whispered.
“To me you were never a simple Romelan wench,” Jago teased her. Syrene’s dazzling smile nearly undid him. Instead, Jago tilted his wife’s chin up and kissed her, as his other hand slid to caress her breast. How he had missed making love to her since the latter stages of her pregnancy. Syrene’s passionate nature assured him that there would be many more children for the two of them. Reluctantly he stopped his fondling and moved his hand to her rounded stomach. “In a month’s time, love, our daughter will be born. A daughter that will be able to do so much good for our people. Nevertheless, I fear for you my love. Childbirth can be such a dangerous ordeal,” Jago confided in his wife.
“Don’t worry husband. I will be fine. The gods will protect the vessel of their chosen one,” Syrene assured him.
“I could not bear to think of my life without you wench,” Jago admitted.
“You won’t have to,” Syrene promised, “Now get some rest.” As Syrene snuggled up against him and drifted off to sleep, Jago swore by the gods that nothing would separate him from the woman he loved.

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After his meeting with his colonel and lieutenant, King Romulus made his way to the nursery that was Tarin’s domain. He found his son Tarin asleep in his little bed. His young nursemaid, Julisicaa was asleep in her bed that she kept in Tarin’s room. His heir had been Julisicaa’s charge ever since the boy’s birth. She was closer to him than even Alexia had been and loved Tarin as if he were her own son. Though young as she was, her own children were a real possibility in her near future. The thought of children made him walk deeper into the room until he stood looming over the sleeping nursemaid. She really was a beautiful girl. How he had never noticed it before was a mystery. More than likely the reason was because he was always so busy. As he stared down at the sleeping girl, his lower body jerked. The urge to possess her raven haired, brown-eyed beauty was too much too resist. Nevertheless, he would not be rough with the girl for she was too fragile for that. He could easily snap her in two.
The fact that she was yet a virgin was yet another call to him. He knew his strict qualifications for a nursemaid would one day come in handy. Julisicaa would not dare refuse the king. She had no choice in the matter except to give him what he wanted. Yes, he was going to destroy all her hope for a proper marriage between her and another young Titanian noble. Although Julisicaa’s father, Dominus, might not show anger at the king defiling his youngest daughter, the anger would be there, hidden below the surface. All Titanian men knew that everything they had was the king’s if he commanded it, even their own daughters. Dominus has no need to fear; he would receive proper compensation for his daughter’s precious gift. Romulus bent as low as his seven-foot frame would allow and kissed Julisicca’s pink lips. The girl immediately awakened and gave a gasp of shock. It was unnerving to wake up and find one’s king standing over one.
“Don’t be afraid little one,” Romulus whispered as he saw the fear in her doe eyes. For a moment, she was quiet. Romulus took that as a sign that she was going to comply with his desire. However, when he touched her breast through her toga she tried to move away from him. Restraining himself as gently as he could he told her, “Your king desires your company tonight.” Dawning of the situation seemed to register in Julisicaa’s eyes as she softly said, “It is as my king commands.” Dominus had trained his daughter well in obedience. Yes, he would slake his thirst for her, but not here in his son’s room. Picking the resigned girl up in his arms, he made his way from Tarin’s room. He was as eager as a rutting bull. Julisicaa would soon learn why they called him Romulus the Mighty.

~~~~Chapter 8~~~~
The Romelan camp was in a frenzy. Syrene Serrano was preparing to bring the Romelan into the world. Many of the Romelan midwives were on hand to assist in the labor. While it was a common custom for the Romelan men not to be anywhere in the vicinity of the birthing tent, Jago refused to leave his wife’s side. The High Vatess, Dhisanaa was in the birthing tent, praying for the safety of the child and its mother. Syrene’s mother, Careaya, was at Syrene’s bedside to assist her youngest daughter in her first birth. Finally, the contractions began to come closer and closer together. “It is time,” Syrene said alerting the people by her bedside. Jago knelt beside his wife’s side and gripped her hand in his, lending his strength. The midwives gathered clean clothes and warm water. “Child, push with the contractions as they come and breathe deeply. You will be all right. This is simply the way of nature,” Careaya instructed her daughter. Syrene nodded her head in understanding as sweat beaded on her brow, but there was a look of fear in her amethyst eyes. The contractions were hitting her body hard. Using all of her strength, she pushed. Her body felt like it was being ripped apart by invisible forces. As she continued to push, the midwives at the end of the bed coached her with words of encouragement.
“You’re doing well child. Just a few more hard pushes.” Although her forehead was now drenched in sweat and tears of frustration ran down her face, Syrene took heart to their words. Tightening her grip on Jago’s hand, she found the strength to smile at him as she gathered new strength to bring their daughter into the world. Syrene continued to push, once, twice, three times and finally she heard the lusty cry of a healthy baby. She laid back and exhaled a breath. She had done it. She had given birth to Jago’s child. The Romelan was finally here. All of a sudden, Syrene’s body was wracked with more spasms of pain and she let forth a piercing scream. “What is it, my love?” Jago asked alarmed at his wife’s scream. Syrene could not answer as another sharp pain went through her body. Not knowing what was the matter, Syrene did the only thing she could, she pushed. In two more pushes another baby slid into the hands of a waiting Careaya. “Blessed be you daughter. You have a birthed the Romelan and a handsome baby boy. Syrene weakly smiled as her body surrendered to the deep slumber that was beckoning.
As Jago mopped his wife’s brow with a cool cloth, he noticed that she had closed her eyes and he became alarmed. The midwives noticed his alarm and reassured him that his young wife was only resting. Jago smiled and visibly relaxed as his mother in law walked toward him holding two wrapped bundles in her arms. “Come and hold your children,” Careaya said as she stopped in front of him. Jago arose from his wife’s bedside and took the tow babes in his arms. Pulling the blanket away from the first infant’s face, he looked at his child. He was looking into the face of his son. The little boy had his mother’s golden hair and his father’s sea green eyes that were already open. Syrene had given him more than he could ever have imagined. His son was perfect. Smiling fondly he pulled the blanket away from his daughter’s face. Her eyes were wide open as she stared up at Jago. His daughter’s eyes were the same deep purple as Syrene’s eyes. One thing surprised him though. His daughter’s hair was vibrant red in color, a color that was not present in the Romelan genes. Besides her unusual hair color, next to his daughter’s small golden lock was a silver one. No Romelan ever had a silver lock. Silently, Jago thanked the gods. His children were the greatest gifts on all of Antares.
“Come,” Dhisanaa commanded, “Let us show the people how you have been twice blessed as your wife rests and is cleaned up.” Jago nodded his head and followed Dhisanaa out of the large birthing tent that was set up. People eagerly crowded around the tent and let out a cheer when they saw the High Vatess and Jago emerge. Dhisanaa smiled and basked in the happiness that the Romelan people felt before raising her arms, signaling for silence. The High Vatess was truly an imposing figure as her long blue robes billowed about her as the wind blew her long gray hair. The staff that she held in her hand was an old knarled piece of tree trunk. The Romelans heeded her command and immediately subsided into silence. “The Romelan is here. After a thousand years the circle of life has continued. We are blessed to live in a generation in which the promised one is born. The clans of Romero and Serrano are truly blessed this day. Not only has Syrene Serrano brought forth the Romelan, but she has also given her husband a strong son. In a week’s time, the naming ceremony and festival to the gods will take place. Behold your Romelan!” Dhisanaa shouted taking the infant girl from her father’s arms and raising her high above the people. The Romelan camp, filled with cries of joy and relief had no idea that unseen spectators watched them.

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Lieutenant Marcus and Colonel Arion snuck away from the Romelan camp, deeper into the surrounding forest. Waiting at their makeshift tent were the four soldiers that they had brought. When they made it to the camp, all the soldiers assembled. “Men in seven days time, the Romelans will hold a pagan ceremony to praise their gods and the newborn girl. On that night, we will attack. Three of you will return immediately to Titania and inform the king of this turn of events,” Marcus commanded.
“Bring back a force of five hundred, but do it in a quiet manner. We do not need to alert the Romelans of our presence until it is too late. The Lieutenant, I, and the other soldiers will continue to monitor the Romelans. Move out men,” Arion barked. In a short while, all their time in this uncomfortable place would pay off because their king would have the Romelan wench Syrene, her daughter, and a completely new nation of people under his control.