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«Stop Jiroh! And you too, Veci!» Lucius ordered.
The two Iguana Demons stopped motionless. Then, as if by magic, their bodies joined together. A demon similar to a lizard was born, with two heads, eight limbs and two tails.
«Furufaruah. The Demon Jirohveci is back!» the creature said.
Furius approached Damian and Dasmond ran to his aid. With a blow he flung himself on the dux, which managed to block the blow. The great duel began.
«Let no one interfere, I’ll take care of him! Tie the child and the woman!» The Devastator said.
«I will not let you!» Dasmond shouted and hit him with all his strength. The Dux parried the shot skillfully while Jirohveci and the Romans, possessed by other demons, tied Yulia and Damian to their wrists and made them sit on the ground.
«Win for us!» Yulia shouted encouragingly.
Dasmond used his Draghiria against the long sword of the Devastator, with a gray blade and a brown handle that, despite its large size, was gripping with one hand. The challenge continued with blows. Dasmond could not find any weakness. It was like fighting a mad bison. With his agility he managed to avoid the attacks, but not to hit him. The other demons were watching the fight with great care. Damian was crying and Yulia tried to comfort him.
«Why did you come here to destroy the village? What do you want from Damian? You’ll have over my body!» Dasmond said with the little courage left.
«You do not deserve to know!» The Devastator replied in anger, and hit him in the head, injuring his left temple. The boy fell to the ground. Dasmond got up hard and panting. In his heart, with all of himself, he wanted to save his friends. His red eyes awoke, a bright glow of hatred lit up in his gaze. That dark power, which came to him through the wound inflicted by the dragon, was manifested. The scar throbbed, the boy began to lose his mind. Dark energy enveloped him all and his strength increased. The demons at the sight of the phenomenon they remained incredulous, Lucius himself was baffled. Yulia took advantage of the commotion to cut the ropes that bound her wrists with a wire that she always carried with her hair. He pretended to have them again so as not to arouse suspicion. She did the same with Damian, who had his eyes on the duel. Dasmond began to inveigh and attack the Devastator who for a moment was caught unawares and received a slight wound to his face.
«Well. Everything is going well» said the Dux.
Dasmond had lost his mind, he fought like a blood-thirsty monster. For the Dux it was great fun. He avoided the blows and retorted with lunges and strokes to his legs, which Dasmond managed to avoid. The boy used his sword with fury, without his precise fighting patterns. He had gained strength and lost the warrior art.
«Dasmond wake up! Come back to you!» Damian shouted.
After hearing the words of Damian, his shiny red eyes disappeared. He returned to be himself and concentrated on the fearsome Roman commander. The opponent was too powerful for him.
«Is everything here? Already finished?» The adversary said disappointed.
Furius pointed to his stomach, but the attack was stopped by the young man’s sword. That move marked his fate as the Dux noticed the shoulder wound. In war everything is granted, and a man like this would never ignore the enemy’s weak point.
Dasmond, rejected the attack, retorted with a blow to the abdomen but the attempt was useless. The armor was not even scratched. It was a fatal mistake for the young man who left an opening to the Roman, who hit him right at his left shoulder. That blow ripped flesh and again were rivers of blood. He collapsed on the ground like a dry leaf that falls to the first gust of wind. Furius ordered to kill the woman, but Yulia quickly drew the sword to the soldier who was close to her. She hurled against the Devastator that, without delay, by the sword the wounded her abdomen. The girl fell to the ground. At that moment Dasmond got up and, with a last desperate gesture, struck the Roman behind with his Draghiria. He pierced him from side to side, seriously injuring him. The Devastator, despite the mortal wound, managed to remove the sword stuck in his back and fell to his knees. Dasmond collapsed near Yulia.
«Hold on, please! Do not die!» Yulia said.
Tears flowed from those eyes full of love and streaked her face.
«There’s nothing left to do, run away! Take Damian with you, go away...» the hero replied.
«Never! You’ll come with us!» the girl implored.
Dasmond struggled up from the ground with the help of Yulia, he was ready to run away with her. But the blade was faster than their pace. The Devastator used his sword and pierced them from side to side, first Dasmond behind, and then Yulia who was ahead. They looked one last moment in the eyes, from which the light suddenly vanished. The Roman after that shot perished and so “The Morning Star” abandoned his lifeless body.
The demon was awakened in that very instant of death of the two friends. With a cry of pain and tears in his eyes, Damian awakened the hidden power within him.
«I will kill you all! All! Everyone!» He kept repeating.
He emanated a powerful dark energy that swallowed everything inside it. A negative energy, of a black color like the night, which scared even the Demons. A great power, which that little blue-eyed child did not know to possess, it was released that night. Everything was destroyed, everything. The Demons and the Romans did not have time to escape. The pain caused by the death of his dear friend had been the last straw. The village had been destroyed by Rome, but that superhuman power disintegrated everything. The mountains and the village disappeared, everything disappeared into nothingness, except for two portals and what remained of the Tree of Life placed on a small land atoll. A huge chasm was created and the ancient seal, which had been placed by the divine creature, was broken. Once again, after centuries, the largest existing Gate of Hell was opened.
«What will have happened? These powerful noises come this far, even though the portal has been sealed» wondered the Guardian Elf, with long ears and green eyes.
«Calm down, Damian» a woman’s voice said.
«Who are you? Where are we?» the child asked.
He was in a dark place and before him Damian saw a beautiful woman in a long white dress with folds. He had long blond hair, blue eyes and an angelic face. He walked barefoot and from every step he took a flower. In a brief time, they found themselves in a flowered garden dominated by a blue and serene sky.
«It’s me, son. Come here» and she hugged him.
«Mum. I ...» Damian began to cry.
«We are here, in your Heart. Never forget that I am always with you. Leave the hatred and choose the love. Win Evil and the Dragon will help you!» As she spoke those words, Damian noticed that his mother’s shadow was shaped like a dragon.
«Dasmond and The Village of the Gods are gone. What will become of me? » Damian asked.
«I will always be with you» his mother said, then placed his right hand on Damian’s heart and put Damian’s hand on his heart.
«You are born from someone’s heart, you will die in someone else’s heart. I will always be with you».
After those words, Damian fell into a deep sleep. His body was enveloped in a blue sphere of energy. The sphere, flying, reached the feet of the Tree of Life.
Surrounded by a black sea, from which emerged every type of demon, remained protected in that sphere for a long time, clinging to the only thing left alive.
«All the evil that came out of the Gate of Hell poured into the two still open portals. Only that child survived. Nobody knew why, because in the history books this event was never written».
02
The Betrayal
«I’ve been here for three days and I still have not found what I’m looking for. There is nothing that makes me feel at home. I don’t remember anything about me. Who am I? Why am I here near Rome?»
Damian reflected on his questions, when the old farmer came into the house.
«You should eat boy. You need to put yourself back in strength!» the man sai
d.
He didn’t want to eat, his worries were different.
«Old man I don’t remember anything of me! Why am I here? Where is my family?» He asked.
«Son, you have been asking me the same questions for three days. I found you lying naked on my cornfield. You came out like a mushroom! You slept blissfully like a child, but now you are no longer! You’re 20 years or so, you’re a man!» the elder said.
«Old Agenore how do you know my age? I don’t remember anything. It’s like I’ve slept for ten years. I only remember an ibex and his cub» Damian replied.
His mind was blurred, his memories lost.
«Well, you are as tall as my son Ascanio, you will surely be the same age. It is not the first time that I tell you, you are weak of memory my boy! Feel at home, here you are safe! In front of us there is the great Rome. The little that my field produces, we sell it to the market in the city. Two extra hands will definitely help me!» Agenore said and his son entered the room.
«Father! They say that tithing has increased! We will have to deliver even more wheat!»
«Ascanio but it’s not possible! We have only a small wheat field! Does Rome want my head?» Agenore said, then scratched his head as if he wanted to remember something.
He was an old man now, he could no longer walk without his cane. Old age had consumed him in spirit and in body, although as a young man had been in the roman army. He was a valiant legionary, and he had many scars on his chest and back. He wore a white tunic, two pieces of woolen cloth sewn together and tied at the waist by a brown leather belt. The sleeves reached up to half of the arm, leaving most of the leg uncovered. The tunic had holes that were used to bring out the limbs and the head. It reached his knees, it was very old but it was also his favorite because it was a gift from his late wife. He was short, curved back to the point of being forced to lean on his cane to walk, even his feet were struggling in the use its blacks sandals, soleae, namely soles with the laces tied on the feet. His green eyes, now extinguished by old age, made it clear that his sight was leaving him. Few white hairs remained on his head, shaped like a cleric, while his beard was long and thick.
His house, rectangular in plan, had been built with lime bricks, while the sloping roof had wooden planks covered with straw. It had two windows for the longer side, with two wooden doors each. The door had an arched shape and had a bronze knob for a handle. It was small and welcoming, with a table and three wooden chairs that had three feet each. On the right wall is located a kitchen, with rectangular shape, immobilized to the part nether hours of the wall. It had an arched recess for the hearth, where the wood was lit and the fire reached an iron grill above which the bronze pots were placed for cooking. On the table and on the kitchen there were pots, plates and glasses, all of bronze. There were also some long wooden spoons, some bronze knives and spoons, the cochlearii, who had a long handle and pointed used specifically to spear the food because in the roman times forks were not widespread. A series of amphorae and pitchers, which contained water and oil, were scattered here and there. On the left side of the house were their beds, brown sacks containing wool, about two meters long. Other smaller bags were used as pillows. For blankets they used goat and sheep skins. Outside, the house featured a plowed field with wheat and other grasses. It was only a few steps from the river Tiberis, positioned on the right with respect to the back side of the house, while on the left there was a dirt path that every day was using by the people who went to Rome. In addition to the house, along the way there were large fields and other farmers who lived outside the city and thanks to the river they had the water for drinking, for to wash and irrigate the fields, which is very useful especially in times of drought. The peasants used scythes, hoes and plows, all to satisfy the great Rome. A very tiring job that old Agenore had left to his son. The young Ascanio was worried about his father, he was kind and considerate, not skilled in the sword but great in his job as a farmer. He was tall, handsome, with a sly look, and with the brown eyes. He had the blacks hair, long and straight, that reached his shoulders, a stubble and a small snub nose.
«Damian, did you recover?» Ascanio asked.
«Yes, I’m better now. I can get to work right away!» Damian answered.
«No, today we will sell the harvest. We will go to Rome! I’ll show you the most beautiful city in the world! A majestic city full of beautiful women. With your eyes, with this strange color, you will surely blow!» Ascanius said.
«Impress? Why weird? They are blue like the sky!» Damian replied.
«Calm down, I’m just kidding!» He laughed.
Damian gave no importance to those words, but he knew that his eyes had to do with his past and with his very essence.
They took the whole harvest, eight sacks of wheat, and left the house. The two loaded the wagon that had four creaking wheels, it was battered and without a cover. He was pulled by an old black steed who could hardly stand up. Damian stroked his face and the horse neighed softly.
«He likes you. Tempesta hardly lets herself be caressed by a stranger» Agenore said.
«He’s a great hero, isn’t he?» Damian asked.
«How do you know?» Ascanio asked.
«He has a vertical scar in the middle of his forehead» Damian replied.
«He save my life during a battle against the Greeks, many years ago. He is my greatest friend» explained Agenore.
«It’s time to go father! We must not waste time!» Ascanio interrupted.
«Why today? It is Mars day!» Agenore complained.
«Still superstitious, father? On Venus and Mars day, one does not marry or leave. Forget the luck for once! Come on Damian, load the other sacks of wheat and get in!» Ascanius said.
They got into the cart and left, while Agenore greeted them from afar.
They walked down a winding road in the middle of the fields, crossed that fertile and pleasant place and then reached the main road.
«Is this the right way?» Damian asked.
«Be serene, all roads lead to Rome! This is the Via Flaminia, the road that connects Rimini to Rome. It will lead us to the door of the city that has the same name. Look there on the side of the road, the miles stone tells us that there are three miles left» Ascanio replied and Damian saw that stone, with an arched shape, where was written “Roma III Milia” with an arrow indicating the direction. It was not easy for Damian to understand those words and, for this reason, he realized that this was not his native language and that this place was not his home.
Tempesta galloped at medium speed along that road formed by gray quadrangular stones that were separated by spaces filled with gravel, a small crushed stone.
«Keep you the reins for a while, I need to read the taxes» Ascanio said and took his scrolls were kept in a small bag hanging on the black belt who held, around his waist, his gray tunic.
Damian took the reins but didn’t understand what he should do and let Tempesta go on undisturbed. He sat on the wagon with his fierce gaze, his blue eyes shining as he looked at the road to the horizon. His hair, blond and wavy, swayed at the slight breeze caused by the motion of the cart. He had grown up, he was no longer the child of the past. Almost one and eight-meter-tall, he wore a blue short-sleeved tunic, a black waistband and brown solae, identical to those of Ascanius, at his feet. He did not have a beard and his skin was clear and smooth like a child. Looking at his small nose, his thin lips and eyes, you could see the face of the past.
«Thanks for giving me your clothes, Ascanio» Damian said.
«Just wash them, especially the subligaculum» Ascanio replied.
«What?» Damian asked.
«The intimacy band. You don’t know anything, do you?» the young man said as he read.
«I don’t remember anything about me. Not even this body seems to belong to me. It is a difficult thing to explain in words. I’d love to find out something about my past» Damian replied.
They went on to reach another milesto
ne that bore the words: “II milia for Rome.”
«Wehee!» neighed a white horse as the master pulled on the reins.
«Bastard! You wanted to hurt my horse and destroy my wagon!» an angry man said.
«Damian! What are you doing! Why are we on the right side of the road? Driving is on the left!» Ascanio looked into Damian’s eyes, then spoke to the middle-aged man, with brown hair, an aquiline nose and a lean physique.
«I am mortified, Dominus Iulo!»
«Oh well, you are Ascanio! What is combining this idler? Who is this guy? You apologize to me!» he man said angrily.
«I’m sorry» Damian said, mortified.
«I’m sorry, forgive us. He’s my cousin» Ascanius pleaded, then returned to the left side of the road.
«I let you pass because I owe your father. Hee-yaa, run!» and he left with his cart.
Ascanius made Tempesta run in the right direction and put the scrolls back in his bag.
«The wagon travels to the left because with the left hand the reins are held, instead the right hand is used to extract the sword and fight against the enemies!» Ascanio explained.
«You have no sword» Damian said in surprise.
«Forget it ...» Ascanio snorted.
«Groowl» Damian’s stomach rumbled. Ascanio glanced up at him, then picked up a small green sack and gave it to Damian.
«You eat»
Damian opened the green bag and took out the contents. It was a brownish disk that smelled good.
«What is?»
«It’s called biscoctus, it’s a sweet made with wheat flour, eggs and sugar. In Rome the bakers, in addition to producing the tasty spelled bread, create delicacies of all kinds. Eat it and tell me what you like» Ascanio explained, then he took something from the bag too.
«Yum! What is this that you’re eating?» Damian asked.
«This one», yum-yum, «with a circular shape with a hole in the middle, is a tarallor. These are made with olive oil and comes from the Apulia! It’s very tasty! There are others made with almonds and pepper, bigger than these, which come from Neapolis and are the best!» Ascanio answered.