51 Results with the "Historical" genre
- Story
The Lion & The Owl
Roman and Druid lock eyes in battle, setting off a turbulent flirtation involving revenge, death, and the theft of a beloved horse. -
First light in the peristyle finds a child raking at pale sand, freeing cat shit and whatever else the feline gremlins bury for safekeeping. The grand fountain churns softly, the villa’s groundsmen removing a sizable portion of its water after the first frost. Soon, they will drain it ahead of the first snow and fix an angled tarp over the open roof. Each accumulation, the groundsmen will cut the tarp’s sewn navel and drop snow into the fountain’s pool. Villa Servii contains two hemispheres,…
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115.6 K • Ongoing
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Two enormous clamshells sit atop the grill rack, each with golden brown upon their banded domes. Their crusty skin is cool enough to touch, and Niko gently detaches each layer, popping the edges before pulling them free. The thicker, unattractive mold will make a good bottom—this is the story of his life—and that makes him smile. He tosses a handful of semolina into its hallow, spreading and rubbing the grains around before laying down raw cabbage leaves. These large verdant blankets will stop the…
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115.6 K • Ongoing
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Snow white clouds grace the fresco’s blue sky, where tiny birds flock, each a delicate paint stroke that gives no detail to their name. Three walls hold up this seaside sky, with blackened sands and rocky shores that host women frolicking about in their athletic unmentionables. The gynaeceum at Villa Servi lacks a fourth wall, but with its bushy head, the stone pine growing in the peristyle below affords some much-needed privacy. Under her tunica, a skilled tongue performs feats she thought only…
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115.6 K • Ongoing
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Dust gathers on the road as four black steeds trample into view. Their burden is a wooden carpentum with four iron-ringed wheels and the cross-swords of Mars painted upon both its window shutters. A nod from the Servian Lord brings out the day’s groomsmen, a chatty pair of teenagers wearing their warmest best. The young men corral the panting beasts, promising them fresh water, plentiful lucerne, and a soothing brush—they deserve all of it and more after such a laborious journey from…
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115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
XIV – The Month of Honey – I
The Bucarati kips upon glossy mudflats. The vessel resembles a timber beetle with its tightly bound sales and dangling oars. It slumbers as men till the wet sands beneath its rudder, digging that will ensure the incoming tide washes her away. Alps-born Romans crowd her surface planks. They wear fur over their shoulders and wool on their extremities. None are clean-shaven, not even their newly minted leader, Lucius Scipio Servius, whose beard shines golden like the short coils on his head. His noble…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
XXXVII: The Drunken Bath
Crimson rivulets swirl into the grate, drinking the ritual’s bloody remains. Aedan empties another bucket of water over his head, then upends it atop his basted rags, a lopsided pile of pale red. Cardamon oil forms prismatic clouds upon the water’s skin, its heady scent filling the humid air. Of all the luxuries imposed while living among these wolves, he most enjoys their aromatic baths. The steamy pool lures him into its satiating embrace. Ears full of warmth, he surfaces so the chill can bite his…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
XXXVI: The Last Leaf Falls
A line of gray rises from the woods, but smokeless chimneys draw him to the village. No guard walks the wall. The smithy forge has gone cold, and courtyard braziers full of wood stand without flame. Pigs slumber in their pen, tightly packed mounds unmoved by his investigation. Knocking on doors yields no one, so he sets off for home under the fading day. Along the main road, he spots the villagers filing down the ridge. Two-wheel carts break up their procession, pulled by young men and full of…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
XXX: The Morning Diversion
Skipio wakes before the sun, his habit since coming home. The frigid lake arouses his blood, and he floats upon its black stillness, lamenting that the coming winter will force his swim routine indoors. He strokes to the porch, its slick balustrade heavy with moss, and hoists himself into the chilly air. Streaking quickly into his room, he stands before the wall hearth’s roiling flame and dries himself with a fresh towel, courtesy of Welletrix. The blond Gaul reappears with a steaming water bowl…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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Chapter
XXVII – The Owl in Residence
Nothing signifies the cruelty of fauna more than a Roman rooster. Taller than a newborn child, the motley-plume monster slips through a crack in the larder door, head bobbing with every step. It loiters about the pre-dawn darkness before idling near the hearth where the ashes remain warm. It is day three—this cocker’s last day on the planet. With cautious deliberation, it saunters to the lectern, yet before it can raise its feathery head for a sunrise squawk, long fingers snatch its slender…-
115.6 K • Ongoing
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