Max's eyes flickered open to see he was inside a small tent. He took a moment to blink away the sleep and carefully sat up. He winced in pain as his joints protested the movement. He rubbed his face lazily with both hands and sighed, then pulled his hands away in shock. He turned them over and looked at the back, shocked to see them wrinkled beyond recognition and his skin so pale it was almost transparent.
"What the..."
"Oh, Governor, you are awake!" a voice from behind him cried.
He turned uneasily and saw his personal physician bounding forward to examine him.
"Capernicus... What happened to my hands? Where are we?" Max asked, his voice croaked and wavered like the old men of the senate, tired from a lifetime of shouting.
The physician swallowed nervously, and Max thought he saw a glimmer of pity in his eyes.
"Governor, I'm... I'm afraid it is not just your hands that have been affected," he reached for a reflective silver disc and held it up for Max to see himself.
Max's mouth dropped open as he looked at his reflection.
"What happened to me?"
"We don't know, I'm afraid, sir..."
Max ran his hand down his face again. He looked ancient; wrinkled and frail and gaunt.
"Iatus... I can't feel Iatus, the link is gone!"
"I'm sorry, sir, Iatus? Your scribe?"
Max scowled in annoyance, "Get out, get out now!"
The physician scurried back, "At once, sir," he snivelled and left the tent.
Max stood up shakily, but now that he was fully awake he felt something was different inside him, nothing to do with his new-found age, but he felt like a weight had been lifted, he felt... powerful.
Something must have happened to Iatus... If he was killed, the mana drain on me could have done this.
He bit his lip and traced out a basic circle, not bothering to look for something more powerful. He spoke Iatus' summons but nothing happened. He tried again and received the same result.
He frowned in concern and then had an idea, if Iatus was in trouble Aelith would know.
He tried the summons for Aelith but again nothing happened.
What is going on...
Just as he was about to try and summon Aelith again, his knees buckled from under him, sending him tumbling to the floor.
He cried out in shock and pain, and he heard a snap from his hip as he hit the floor.
A guard rushed in and knelt by his side.
"Governor, are you alright?"
Max grimaced in pain, "I think... I broke my hip."
"Just stay there, I shall call for the physician."
"No, just pick me up and put me back onto the bed."
"But Governor..."
"Just do it soldier, that's an order!" Max snapped.
The soldier frowned but did as he was told. He didn't have much trouble, Max realized he was painfully thin, almost a skeleton to look at his chest.
Now, what was the spell my father used... He used it for everything. Heal by fire? Heal in fire? I think Heal in fire.
Max gently put his hand against his hip and said, "Yesil sa Fas."
A searing pain shot through his leg, it felt like it was burning, but then he felt the bone move and fuse back into place. He let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding and lay panting on the bed.
"Governor, are you okay?" the legionnaire asked uncertainly.
"Yes, fine. Now, would you like to explain why I am waking up in a tent?"
The legionnaire swallowed nervously, "The city was attacked, by a winged serpent. It was huge, as big as the whole city. It flew over it and set it all on fire with one breath. It was summoned by a mage from outside the city. He spoke on the wind, haunting it was. He called himself the Messiah, or something, said he was going to cleanse the world of Romans. We didn't stand a chance so we got you out of the city through the old tunnels. We've set up a camp for the legion and the citizens that survived."
Max listened quietly, then sat up from the bed again.
"Did the Legate survive?"
"Yes Governor."
"Good, find him and tell him I want to see him. Also find my steward and tell him to bring me some clothes... And I think I'm going to be needing a walking stick."
"Yes governor," the soldier saluted and ran off.
The stewards arrived first, bringing a military tunic.
"I'm sorry Governor, but this is all we have available, the palace was the first to burn."
"It's fine, help me into it."
The steward nodded and Max clumsily donned the tunic. He got shakily to his feet and the steward handed him a shepherd's crook that had been hastily cut in half to make a walking stick.
It was a strange feeling, having power welling up from inside him, almost uncontrollably, and yet walking the yard or so to the exit of the tent was exhausting.
When he pulled back the flap the sight that met him took his breath away. Almost the entire city was gone, in its place was a series of piles of ash. The fragments of buildings that still stood were blackened beyond recognition and looked as though a strong wind would send them crashing down.
Max stumble forward to where the wall had been and leant heavily against a dislodged block of stone. He looked across the city with glassy eyes, still not believing. He bent down and scooped up a handful of ash, examining it and then letting it run through his fingers.
The Legate arrived a few moments later, heralded by his heavy boots crunching through the fragments.
"Governor," he said formally and saluted.
Max waved him down, "To be a Governor I have to have a province, this is nothing more than ash."
The Legate frowned and let his hand return to his waist.
"How many did we lose, Appius?"
"600 legionnaires and most of the Anti-Mage unit, they were the first unit to respond, only Tribune Pilus and 2 others survived."
"How many civilians?"
"Impossible to say at the moment, sir, but it looks like thousands."
Max nodded and buried his head in his hands for a moment. When he sat back up he asked, "Which way did it head, after it burned the city?"
"The majority of the horde marched North but a smaller host went south."
"The horde?"
"Yes sir, I don't know what the collective term for a group of demons that large would be, but there were hundreds of them, swarming everywhere."
"Have you sent word of this to Rome?"
"Yes sir."
Max thought for a moment, processing all the information.
"Gather what you can and head West, take a boat to Rome and join whatever response the senate can put together. I will take the remains of the anti-magic legionaries after the ones that went south. If they are heading south they will be heading for Egypt, there are things there that could be... problematic if a powerful mage found, we will have to travel fast, we shall go to Alexandria first, then Giza."
The Legate frowned, "But Governor, are you fit to travel, let alone fight a war?"
Max pushed himself to his feet, "Fight a war? Yes. Travel? No. Take one of the carts and strip it down to the essentials, I want a plank on wheels, I shall ride on there. Get the Anti Mage unit to do it, everyone else must get to Rome as quickly as possible."
"Yes sir," the Legate saluted again and stormed off, shouting orders.
"Now," Max wheezed pitiably, "Back to the tent."
He hobbled back to the tent and, fighting the urge to fall into bed, began to draw a summoning circle.
The summons he knew by heart, all Metellus were forced to learn the words almost from birth, it was only if they possessed the power that they realised it to be a summons.
As he finished the incantation the circle burst into black flames, filling the room with dense smoke. There was the tell-tale sound of claws scratching against the hardened earth then two red, reptilian eyes flickered open.
The smog slowly faded to reveal a crocodile like creature, except it had a longer neck and a set of wings, along with its obsidian scales.
"Greeting's mage," it said, its voice slow and rumbled from its throat like it came from the depths of the earth, "I have been known by many names throughout the ages, but you may call me..."
"Shadow," Max interrupted.
Shadow chuckled, "Ah, a Metellus, so, you've managed to keep my name a secret for another generation. Which one are you?"
"Caius Maxentius."
"Little Max? Has it really been so long, it feels like only yesterday I served your Grandfather, such a tiny boy you were, I expected it to be one of your brothers... But I suppose power often follows with great age."
"I'm 25."
Shadow blinked in surprise, "Well, how did that happen?"
"Summoning mara."
"I suppose that would do it, so, what can the ancient advisor of the Metellus do for you today?"
"We're going mage hunting."
"So, assassination, the more palatable routes to power have already closed to you?" the monster tutted in mock disappointment.
"No. He burned my city, now I will burn him."
Shadow smiled, "Revenge? How... barbaric."
Max winced at the jab, but kept his voice steady, "Now, we should be heading off in a minute, take a more subtle form."
"I am the great and powerful Tyr..."
Max scowled at him, "Never speak your name, Shadow, never reveal it to anyone by any means, that is an order, Ma mas fa Es."
Shadow rolled his eyes, "Always the binding command, never speak your name, always the paranoia with you Metellus. However, it is still beneath me to take any form less than this."
"Take a smaller form, or do I have to use another binding command?"
Shadow snorted indignantly, smoke puffing out from its nostrils, then it shrank back into a slightly smaller form of itself.
Max frowned, "I suppose that will do."
"So, where is the other fabled minion of the Metellus, the great Drakan?"
"I have not summoned him yet, I will do so when he is needed."
Shadow raised an eyebrow, "I would have thought that he would have been needed when they were burning your cities."
Max clenched his jaw in annoyance, "I was unable to as I was unconscious."
"Ha, a Metellus caught sleeping on the job! Whatever next."
"I was not sleeping, the bond with one of my spirits was broken and I was rendered unconscious."
Shadow's head snapped round to look at Max, "Spirit, you say? Unlike a Metellus to use spirit over demon... Is this spirit perhaps a she? You wouldn't be the first..."
Max silently cursed the slip, Shadow was indeed as sharp as his Grandfather had said.
"No, that's not it..."
Shadow looked at him expectantly.
I suppose I could trust Shadow... He has kept so many of my families secrets, however, unlike those before me, my father was unable to prepare me for its subtleties...
Grudgingly Max recounted how Iatus had died, been brought back as a spirit and now he had disappeared.
"Well, that is quite a tale. So your new-found ability to summon me is because of the training undergone simply by bearing this Iatus all these years. Impressive, perhaps the greatness of the Metellus did not die with your Grandfather."
"How can you have such little regard for my father? He is a great man."
"Your father is no true Metellus, a wind elemental! The shame your Grandfather endured..."
"My father is a Consul, you will speak of him with respect!"
Shadow raised a scornful eyebrow but said, "Very well."
Max shook his head.
Before the conversation could resume the flap of the tent was pulled back and a tall, blond haired soldier put his head through the opening.
"Governor, we are ready to depart on your order."
"Very good Pilus. I shall be right there."
Max sighed, released Shadow from the circle and headed out into the desert sun.