1. Legion


    Date: 9/15/2015, Categories: Historical, Author: Lupus, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    his eyes cast up at the clear, starry sky lit by man-made flames. “There’s not a drop of rain in sight. It makes a damn change in this Gods-forsaken place. It’s dried up in time to watch it burn to the ground.” Climbing the hill at last, faced with the blaze of the burning fort, Vespasian’s officers began to catch him. Gathering around him defensively, the group rode up the roughly trodden path to the once proud stronghold of resistance. “At least I won’t have to give this place a road, now.” Vespasian’s powerful voice carried over the clamour of hooves and earned another appreciative laugh from his entourage. The group surged through the broken remains of the charred and splintered gate into a vision of Hades itself, complete with tortured screams. The officers, resplendent in their pristine uniforms, stood in awe of the inferno around them, gleaming against the fire’s light like Godly messengers. The muddied street was baked hard from the heat of the firestorm. Whole buildings were engulfed in a wall of fire and the sky alight was with the crackling embers of a thousand blazes. The fort seemed to double in size, covering the world in a terrible haze of smoke that streaked into the obsidian sky and towered above. A river of blood flowed across the scorched earth, almost boiling with the heat. The horses bellowed, dancing their hooves in the crust of mud as Romans and locals alike ran from house to house and street to street through the cacophony of noise. Vespasian heard a ...
    woman’s screams from inside a nearby building before a thunderous crash of collapsing woodwork cut them off for good. The men wrestled with their unwilling, rebellious mounts, shouting out their orders. “Sir, it’s not safe here!” The almost echoed voice of a tribune somewhere behind Vespasian was lost on the Legate’s ears. He paid no attention, mesmerised by the fleeing shadows of the fort’s populace, backlit against the intense light of the blaze. Men, women and children retreated from the encroaching flames and the marauding army of foreigners rampaging through their homes. The Legate, stupefied and overwhelmed, could focus on nothing but the assault on his senses. Scowling against the singing heat, with a hand covering his face, he desperately wished to cover his ears and drown out the horrific, chilling screams and the spitting flames. A woman ran out across his path, making a desperate dash for freedom. Her red hair trailed out behind her. Her torn and ragged shirt barely covered her pale skin - darkened by streaks of mud. Her thin arms and bare legs flailed frantically as she scrambled away. She barely passed in front of the Legate before two Legionaries had pounced on her, tumbling to the floor in a tangle of twisted limbs. As she started to scream, thrashing on the scorched earth, the Legate dived from his horse in an instant. “Sir! Sir, no! What are you-“ Vespasian strode ahead and seized the soldiers by their tunics, scattering them through the blood and mud. As one, ...
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