The Eternal Forest - Chapter III

, , , , , , , , ,

#3 of The Eternal Forest

I honestly tried to find (historical) Jesus, but apparently no one mentions the Lich outside the Bible until the Roman-Judea wars some decades later. Guess I will see you all in Hell.


The Eternal Forest

Chapter III

2022 by Zorha

genius loci

Silva Marciana

41 AD

The wind whistled through the interlaced branches of the Black Forest. Its ancient trees swayed against each other, leaves rustling as if in a collective sigh. The eerie creaks of the hardwoods around him made Reprobus look up from what he was doing. Despite it being early morning, very few shafts of sunlight managed to find their way through the dense canopy above. Most of them disappeared once the trunks creaked back to their usual sentinel positions.

Leaves twirled down around a half naked Reprobus. For the first time in a long time the Roman Opito felt vulnerable to dark and primordial forces beyond even him. Since the unsettling events of last night, the stranger in this strange land felt as if this dark forest could close its jaws at any moment, and Reprobus would simply disappear.

There was a reason why die Brüder Grimm chose to describe such a foreboding place of unease, even seventeen centuries later.

Reprobus went back to chopping wood for the hearth, just off the trail farther up from Romulus' fortalice. The normally double handed wood splitter was little more than a hand ax in his massive palm. Still, rivets of sweat streamed down his naked chest from his exertion. His huge biceps burned. Through simple repetitive labor, Reprobus' mind found focus, processing his strange encounter from last night.

He had never been denied a kill before. It made him question a great many things.

Hours passed him by. A few of the local Nemeti also passed him on the trail, carrying baskets of trade goods down on their way down to Fort Brigobannis. He even saw the young blue-eyed boy with the deer carving leading his uncle again, the old man's worn bones making the trip difficult. Despite his deep natural tan and giant stature, the fair skinned villagers passed by him with nary a second glance.

He was just another mythical creature among many here.

Reprobus paused to wipe the thick layer of sweat from his massive brown brow, planting a foot on the scarred stump he used as a chopping block. He sank the hand ax into the stump and pulled a waterskin from his belt. The giant drank mightily. He stopped when he noticed two villagers begin to kneel on the trail beside him.

A woman in a green cloak with black trim rounded the corner of the trail. The first thing that Reprobus noticed about her was the deep auburn long hair that draped down across her regal shoulders. A circlet sat on her fair, delicate brow, the insignia too small to make out at this distance. Her elegant green dress tried in the front with intricate black latticework; just enough to show her bountiful bosom. A woven belt made of golden thread cinched her slender waist, giving her shapely hips divine form. Her scent carried rivers and all wild things. She wore no boots or sandals, her delicate thin feet making full contact to the wilds around them.

Her consort followed just behind. The other woman wore no hint of a smile on her virago jaw. If the woman in green was Life, this shorter woman in all black embodied Death. The clammy scent of the underworld lingered on this one. She wore black leather armor and black bracers inscribed with eldritch runes. Black, thick leather hunting boots. Two long skinning knives sat in sheaths, strapped to the thick black belt around her hips, tilted to cross the sides of her obliques. She carried a bow on her back, but the lack of scuffs gave testament to its lack of use. Her dark brown hair fell across her unusually broad shoulders in a set of warrior's braids.

The two stopped before the kneeling villages, who looked down at the pale feet of the woman in green. She smiled softly and touched each of their foreheads in blessing. Unexpectedly, she looked directly at Reprobus. That's when he realized the insignia on her circlet was that of a deer.

Her green eyes flashed for a brief moment; ethereal golden antlers manifesting on her head.

Reprobus' grip found the ax on warrior's instinct. The black wolf in human guise placed her hands on the hilts of her knives as if in warning. Reprobus' grip fell. There would be no way he could harm the two standing before him in the same way that those kneeling were of no mortal threat to him.

The embodiment of these wilds turned and moved on, back deeper into the primal heart of her realm. Her consort's nostrils flared momentarily, as if both somehow annoyed and curious of Reprobus at the same time, before chasing ever eternal after the woman in green. The two villagers got up with their baskets laden with fresh fruit bound for the Romans.

Reprobus' mind raced. This second meeting had not been by chance. Nor had the first; but now there was no mistaking their intent. The Deer Goddess and her Consort wanted their presence to be known. They could have bade the forest to simply swallow him.

What did they want?

He threw the last of the splintered wood on the skid and threw the ropes over his shoulders, dragging the entire half cord of wood behind him. So lost in thought, Reprobus failed to recognize the furrow the loaded skid made in the simple trail. Romulus had always bade him to keep such explicit fantastical feats from mortal eyes unless it meant their deaths.

Rather than the First God-King of Rome allowing himself to be usurped by envious mortal senators, Romulus disappeared into a tempest in front of his own troops. Centuries later, Reprobus fell to Romulus' divine power and primal lust in Cyrenaica, and from there on followed the orders of his new God-King without question.

That is, until he brought up the Deer Goddess of Silva Marciana later that night.

* * * * *

Reprobus tossed a few more splintered logs into the hearth, and embered sparks churned up into the still night. The fire flared, shadows flickering about the small barracks. In the sills of the opened shutters, silvery moonlight spilled across their threshold. The Roman Optio went back to setting their quaint wooden table with wooden tableware.

It was always hard to gauge if metal culter contained cold iron or silver.

It would have been an embellishment to call this watchtower a castrum, although the Romans would later make similar burgi when expanding the line of watchtowers northward. They harvested so much hardwood to guard against the Germanic Tribes that the deforestation of the Silva Marciana changed the composition of the forest forever.

Without Romulus around the barracks here felt abandoned. Meant to normally house a tenth centuria, the four other empty bunks rarely saw anyone. Romulus preferred it here, away from the luxuria of Brigobannis' mineral baths, and closer to the rugged wilds.

Romulus had whispered many things into Reprobus' ear during their recent ruts. It had been many years since the two slept near each other, and their lust for each other only grew in that absence. Romulus hinted that maybe once they secured this edge of the Empire, that maybe they'd go back into the shadows for a century or two, and simply enjoy this picturesque if foreboding land.

Just the two of them. Barring any strategic follies such as Teutoburg Forest that is.

As Reprobus thought of those whispers the devil himself showed up at the front door. Romulus shoved the oak door open with ease despite the huge sacks carried over his shoulder. They had little reason to barr it; for they did not fear the mortals slinking about this forest like crepuscular vermin.

"Domi adsum" Romulus beamed.

It earned a smile from Reprobus, who got up and helped put away some of the provisions Romulus brought back from his meeting with Tesserarius Rufinus back at Brigobannis. They helped each other out of their clothes, as it was about to get very hot in here. For a few moments they embraced, kissing, hands exploring each other's toned bodies..

When all was said and done, they sat down for cena. Reprobus poured some wine and broke the bread while Romulus fished about one of the blood stained sacks. Reprobus hoped it would be a well seasoned boar loin.

Instead Romulus pulled out a dismembered arm. The skin was fair but waxy, the nails delicate and well manicured. He ripped it apart at the elbow with a sickening squelch before dropping the lower arm on Reprobus' wooden plate with a slight chonk.

Romulus bit into the biceps and ripped off a chunk before chewing open mouthed. Reprobus blinked. He gingerly picked up one of the fingers and realized the arm came from one of the Nemeti tribes women carrying a fruit basket earlier. So much for that blessing. Romulus used a claw to dig out a bit of sinew caught behind his fangs and then spat the chunk into the hearth.

It sizzled.

Reprobus pushed his plate away, opting instead to reach over to a small plate and plop an olive into his mouth. Romulus raised a thick eyebrow.

"Lost your appetite, old friend?"

"Their flesh is too bland for me. Especially the females." Reprobus lied. But lacking any previous empathy, it rang with complete sincerity. Romulus gave a toothy grin.

"Next time I will bring back Rufinus for you." He tore off another chunk from the bicep, blood dribbling down his chin. "He's said a great many things about you. You should at least pretend to serve Caligula."

Reprobus growled from deep within his chest. "He is not MY King."

Romulus narrowed his eyes. "No, but he IS the current Emperor of Rome. The city I ALONE built. And YOUR KING commands that Rome will stand another Seven Centuries."

He sucked the marrow out of the humerus like it was the claw of a cooked crab, then tossed the leftover into the heath. The fat began to melt and spit. Reprobus tossed a few more bits of oak and beech into the heath, keeping it nice and hot. No bones left behind. No awkward questions from mortal men. Small beads of sweat began to condense and trickle down their naked muscular forms.

Romulus helped himself to another portion. He ripped apart an ankle and nibbled on some toes like they were a delicacy. Reprobus couldn't help but think about the Deer Goddess' bare feet.

"Something on your mind, brother? You look pale."

"Do you think the Gods will seek retribution for Caligula's hubris?" Reprobus asked, plopping another olive into his mouth. He rolled it around his sharp teeth.

Romulus snorted. "The Gods do not care about the plight of mortals." He chomped on the ragged stump of the ankle. Reprobus blinked. There was at least one Goddess he knew of that, superficially at least, cared.

"There are empty crosses on the road from Alexandria to Rome."

Reprobus watched the face of his God-King carefully. The realization slowly dawned on Romulus. His expression went slack, the fire behind his eyes suddenly flaring. The sweat that soaked his forehead turned cold. Reprobus noted the fear the Cross put in Romulus. He had been so busy the past several years shoring up the provinces of Gaul that he failed to keep tabs on what was happening on the other side of the Empire.

Romulus spat out the foot halfway in his mouth. It rolled across the table top leaving a smear of blood. "Agrippa." He growled out. "King of the Jews."

In 38 AD Caligula sent Herod Agrippa to Alexandria unannounced. This incited the Greeks. Aulus Avilius Flaccus, the Roman Praefectus of Egypt erected statues of Caligula in Jewish synagogues across Alexandria to appease them. This propane provocation against Jewish law incited a riot. One that Flaccus used especially egregious agony and torture, with newly invented cruelties, to put down.

News of the Jewish crucifixions spread like a wildfire. In 39 AD Rome executed Flaccus for his alleged gross incompetence, although Caligula certainly had a flippant hand to play in all of that. If Romulus did not nip this unrest in the bud quickly, these weeds of incestuous cannibal cults would soon choke out the Empire.

"Reprobus. Hear me well. You will go directly to Rome and end Caligula's reign. Once that is done you will go directly to Judea and end Agrippa's reign."

Reprobus bowed his head. "How does the once and future King want this taken care of?"

"Discreetly." The fire in his eyes flared again, jaw set firm. "Cloak in Politics and Poison if you must, just get this done."

"Your will be done, my King."

Reprobus picked up the half eaten foot in front of him. He was about to throw it into the fire when he paused. The look on his face caught the attention of Romulus.

"Why are you so concerned about the Gods all the sudden?" His cold eyes narrowed again. "Out with it."

Reprobus frowned, then threw the foot into the fire.

"Who is the Deer Goddess of these woods?"

"Oh ... her?" Romulus turned in his seat, suddenly fixing his gaze on the far wall. Reprobus, again, noted his hesitation. "So she has shown herself to you?"

"Yes"

"Do not worry yourself over her."

"But what does she want?"

"It does not matter what she wants. Once we are finished here, no one will remember her."

"Why is that my King?"

"Because we will build statues of her consort, and associate her with Diana. That is all you need to understand." Reprobus stared straight at Romulus. For the first time he sensed a weakness in his King. Was the Deer Goddess stronger?

"What is it that you are afraid of, my King?"

Romulus' eyes blazed at those words. He snapped to his feet, grabbing the dinner table in the process, and flung it into the far wall, advancing. Reprobus jumped up and attempted to scramble back, but his legs caught the back of his stool, and he started to fall. Romulus would have none of it, and caught him by the sweaty armpits, before throwing the giant effortlessly into the wall next to them.

The impact jared the entire barracks. Bits of grit fell from the joints of the second floor around them, Reprobus' dazed body along with them The enraged demi-god picked him up by the throat and began mercilessly throwing herculean punch after punch into the coward pinned up against the wall.

"How DARE you question ME ..."

Romulus raged, his fangs lengthening. He alternated with a savage backhand. Reprobus' head snapped to the other side. He spat out a bloody tooth. A moment later another one slid into the empty socket. Romulus tossed Reprobus head over heels across the barracks. A bunk bed disintegrated from that impact.

Reprobus brushed off the scraps of cloth and straw, his skull lengthening, nails forming claws. His head turned doglike, lower body still had arms and legs. Reprobus pulled himself up on the balls of his feet then sprung at the other monster snarling at him. Romulus leapt at him, clawinging.

The two misshapen breasts collided in mid-air, clawing, snapping at each other with extending muzzles and fangs. Their claws left rents in each other, blood now flowing freely on their glistening sweat soaked bodies.

Romulus howled, and despite Reprobus' size and strength, he was no demi-god. Romulus picked him up like a child's plaything and broke him over his knee. Reprobus' spine broke with a wet snap, and the chimeral beast let out a pitiful yelp before slumping like a sack of dismembered limbs.

His body, though broken, continued to mend, and shift, and ...

But Romulus was not done. Oh no. He had just worked up a different type of appetite. It was no surprise that Romulus enjoyed a bit of sadism in his foreplay.

A good pes of wolf meat had slid out of Romulus' newly formed sheath now, the purple tip dripping with feral need. The large black wolf hooked his forelegs around the hind legs of the broken body still twitching under him, and without mercy, plunged himself deep into its bowels. It ripped the other wolf wide, blood weeping from the sandy wolf's desecrated anus.

Paralyzed from the chest down, his mending spine spared that agony from Reprobus, who simply whimpered as the smaller form rutted him hard and without mercy. Romulus bred him hard and fast, wasting no time in sinking his knot deep into his bitches' guts.

The rape was swift and total. And there was nothing Reprobus could do to stop it.

Romulus arched deep, fangs sinking deep into Reprobus' scruff, before his wolven balls twitched one, twice, before shooting their contents into the broken wolf under him. Reprobus never had the satisfaction of feeling Romulus seed him a final time before passing out into oblivion ...