Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
FOR AS LONG AS THERE WAS ROME, there was a legion, hidden in the shadows. In its prime, there were more than 50 legions, consisting of the pinnacle of Roman soldiers. It had been Augustus' rule to disband the legions, leaving only 28. Those 28 legions grew, spread, they conquered for their emperor. Those legions had one goal and one goal only; to serve Rome. They each were different from each other and they all held different beliefs and values.
Throughout the centuries, the legions vanished. One by one, they were picked off, until finally the strongest of those legions were left. One by one, the groups among them were picked off too. The legionarii went first, the Pontifex Maximus followed, then their praetores, and the last one standing, their Misericordia Maximus.
Roman myth told that once in a Selenian moon, a child of Venus would fall from the heavens, like that of Aeneas, blessed with the gifts of the gods. The emperors would use these children, grow them to be the ultimate soldiers. They were the right hand side of the praetors in battle, commanding the troops. It was in the name, after-all. Misericordia Maximus. The last hope, the last moment of mercy, before they experienced the loss in battle. The Misericordia also brought different translations; in some myths they were compassionate politicians, always ruling in the people's favor. Misericordia was humanity's hope. The Misericordia were the destroyers of empires, but the last to fall in Rome.
After experiencing the loss of her children, Venus swore to never birth an empath again. She didn't swear upon the River Styx, the most sacred oath one could take, but she swore an oath to herself, to never, give a child so much power it can destroy Olympus or fall alongside it.
The screams of a god or goddess, sounded like harmony. It was beautiful, like some lost melody to human ears. To gods, the sound was excruciating. The sound was like screeching harpies tenfold. The minor gods and goddesses whispered to each other. It was common knowledge that the most beautiful gods produced the least harmonious sound. It was common knowledge that Venus was the most painful scream to listen to.
"Now, dear, calm down," Juno tried to soothe the goddess' nerves. Her daughter, Lucina stood by the side of the goddess, working her powers.
"Childbirth has never been this difficult!" Venus bit back. Venus was unlike any other goddess. Her demigod children usually came from her own heart, from a feeling. They would take the shape of little hearts and then the nine months would be up, and bundle of joy would be delivered to their parent. It was easy and it allowed Venus to be more comfortable and relaxed. Every now and then, for her charmspeakers, Venus has to grow the baby inside her. The more powerful her child was, the longer they took to grow. The more powerful they were, the more they hurt to birth.
"Almost there, my Venus," Aglaea said, easing the woman. "Almost there."
The three Charites stood side by side, wincing every time their Goddess let out a painful scream. The moment Venus went into labor the Charites were right beside her.
