20AD, around early January, Palatine Hill

  *Pitter-patter* Pitter-patter

  'Is it possible for the sky to mourn?' Lepidus wondered, gazing up at the dark sky.

  His black hair is drenched with rainwater.

  He squinted against the rain, his eyes red-rimmed from crying. 'The air smells of damp earth...' he sniffled.

  His broken heart tightened. 'The sky is dark, and it's weeping.'

  He touched his chest, as if to soothe the ache within.

  *Pitter-patter* Pitter-patter

  The sound of the raindrops hitting the cobblestones created a melancholic melody that echoed Lepidus's sorrow.

  *Splosh* Splosh

  The twelve-year-old boy stood in the rain-soaked streets of Rome, where citizens of every social class rushed past.

  His dirty red tunica clinging to his thin little frame. His brown, tattered cape offered little protection from the downpour.

  He was barefoot and shivering. His teeth chattered, and his lips trembled as he spoke to himself.

  "The sky is crying like me," he whispered.

  He stood there for a while more, welcoming the tears of the sky.

  After a while, he wiped off the water on his face along with his tears and snot.

  *Splosh* Slosh

  He started to walk on the side of the road.

  Lepidus's thoughts drifted towards his mother's memories.

  He recalled her warm touch, her gentle voice, and the way her eyes sparkled even in death.

  The memory brought a fresh wave of tears to his eyes.

  He wiped them away with the back of his hand, but they kept falling.

  'I'll always be with you, my sweet son…' he remembered how she always said that.

  *Slosh* Slosh

  Whenever the wives of his father managed to get their hands on him and his mother was not around…

  He'll just close his eyes and wait for them to beat him.

  But his mother always arrived on time before that happened.

  'He's just a kid; just beat me instead! ' his mother would also say.

  And they would kick, slap, and pull her hair whenever she tried to talk back at them.

  And after the beating, she would crawl to him, who was crying in the corner; she'd look at him in the eye and smile, 'It's okay now, my son, it's alright now…'

  'Liar,' he bitterly said, stopping in his tracks. Unable to see where he was walking to, he bowed his head down. Wiping his tears with his right arm.

  'You should have at least wiped off the blood on your face before saying that... hic hic…'

  And now she had died. She died last night.

  Leaving him alone and vulnerable.

  "Mother is truly gone," he sniffles.

  'No, not really gone... She's in the afterlife with the gods.'

  He smiled despite the pain.

  But his knees buckled, betraying his body, but he managed to catch himself.

  Stolen story; please report.

  His hands grasped the wall beside him, his legs trembling.

  Overwhelmed with so much sadness, he wept again.

  *Pitter-patter* Pitter-patter

  His father's behavior wasn't helping either when he found out she had died.

  He told him to take care of it. Like the one who died was not his beloved wife once.

  'Well, he did love her at first but turned sour when he found out how the Cornelii family deceived him.' he sniffles.

  Having his father marry a daughter of a slave and not telling him beforehand, just because they didn't have a suitable daughter to wed but wanted to gain more power. 'Greedy people.'.

  Those greedy people are his relatives. The Cornelii's.

  When his father found that out, he immediately changed. From a loving husband to a cold stranger.

  He said he'd become the laughingstock of the nobles. The memory of his father's angry and disappointed tone still lingered in Lepidus's mind.

  Lepidus's stomach twisted with a familiar ache as he thought about his father's words: "The only son that I have is a half-ling! Vae! A son of a dirty slave!"

  The sting of those words seemed to seep into his bones, making the chilly rain feel even colder.

  'Father, why are you so against a slave? It's not like she wants to be born to be a slave,' he is arguing with his father in his head, knowing that he won't even be able to say a word to him face to face.

  'I swear… those Corneliis.. I swear one day I will give you back all this pain.'

  A wave of new strength fused within him, and he managed to stand up.

  *Pitter-patter* Pitter-patter

  As he walked again through the city, the usual bustle of Rome felt muted, like a ghost town, save for the constant rainy sound that was enveloping the whole city.

  The eerie silence was oppressive, weighing heavily on Lepidus's shoulders.

  He can see a lot of people out and about in the streets doing nothing. It's as if they are waiting for something.

  The usually noisy thermopolia vendors just around the corner were even closed.

  'That's unusual…' Lepidus thought. 'I remember always going there with my mother.'

  A faint smile crossed his lips as he recalled happier times with his mother. He stopped walking and, as if imagining the scene…

  Whenever he wanted to eat something hot, he and his mother would walk from his father's family estate to the mouthwatering smell of thermopolia.

  Those carefree days seemed like a lifetime ago.

  His stomach growled; he remembered he hadn't even eaten since last night as he was busy holding his mother's hand while in her dying breath.

  'Son, be strong. You'll be on your own now, but I'll always be with you, watching you from the afterlife...' his mother smiled while saying it before she stopped breathing.

  He remembered how her body started to get cold. And the life in her eyes fades away.

  He stayed there holding her hands had the vilici not interfered at that moment, he would still be sitting there feeling lost.

  He looked at his dirty, muddy hands that he used to bury his mother earlier that morning; he could still feel his mother's hands imprinted on them.

  He opened his palm and caught some rainwater. But it only slipped from his hands.

  Washing the mud away, he winced as he looked at his palms as if in pain.

  'My nails and my palms are messed up... just like me.'

  *Pitter-patter* Pitter-patter

  His expressive green eyes started to tear again; it was cold.

  He can feel it in his bones, but his eyes and his insides are burning.

  The conflicting sensations of cold and heat mirrored the turmoil within him.

  'Why? Why does Mother have to die? And why does she have to be a daughter of a slave? Why? Then what does that make me? A slave too? I'm neither a patrician nor a plebeian. What will happen to me now? Is this my fate?', he felt like he was drowning.

  'Anyone, please come save me…'

  A desperate cry for help was lost in the rain-soaked streets, leaving only the echoes of his own despair.

  His knees buckled again, but this time he crumpled to the ground, scraping his knees. The weight of his reality comes crushing down on him.

  A few people are throwing glances at him, but nobody cares to ask.

  He is only twelve years old. But he's been forced to grow old faster because of his circumstances.

  Still kneeling on the side of the road, lost in his despair, the sound of approaching chariots and horses broke the silence of the city as the rain gradually stopped falling.

  *trudge* trudge

  The sudden cessation of raindrops created an eerie stillness.

  The dark sky started to lighten up bit by bit.

  Suddenly, the air fills with the scent of incense and wet stone.

  He heard low murmurs from the crowd. He looked up and tried to make sense of what was happening.

  Interrupting his emotional monologue. He is so engrossed in his own thoughts that he forgets where he is.

  He looked at the crowd of people. Their attention is distracted by the group coming into the city.

  Lepidus's eyes scanned the crowd, he slowly got up, taking in the somber attire and downcast eyes.

  He could barely make out the words, but he thought he heard "Germanicus".

  Right, he heard about it when one of the wives was flogging him many nights ago. His mother was already sick then and is unable to stand up in bed.

  His father is talking to his other wives, saying, "Germanicus has finally died."

  He smiled bitterly, the famed general, loved by all, commoners and nobles alike, 'Right, he died in Antioch. He was sent there by the emperor to build friendly diplomacy between Rome and the provinces of the East. His family will be returning today with his ashes.'

  The thought of Germanicus' death seemed to weigh heavily on the city's atmosphere.

  'It's like the sky is also grieving for him.'

  *trudge* trudge

  The woman riding in the luxurious chariot, being pulled by two black horses, caught his attention. Her face was carved with so much grief her eyes looked half crazy as she held an expensive-looking urn.

  *trudge* trudge

  Once the group passed an area, the walking people followed, resulting in a long line of procession to the Mausoleum Augusti.

  'A funeral procession…' or Pompa Funebris...

  The procession's slow pace seemed to match the beat of Lepidus's heavy heart.

  *trudge* trudge

  The world is unfair. When his mother died, it was only him and her and the one who dug her grave.

  Nobody cares about the daughter of the slave.

  As Lepidus watched the mourners, a pang of jealousy struck his chest. He remembered the lonely burial of his own mother.

  *trudge* trudge

  That person is not even mourning, it's only Lepidus. The man just stood there and watched him cry.

  Why did Germanicus deserve such an outpouring of grief, while his own mother's passing was met with silence?

  'The world is so unfair…' Lepidus's gaze then wandered to the children accompanying the woman, riding on a much bigger chariot following her.

  *trudge* trudge

  One girl, about his age or younger, possibly a daughter of Germanicus, stood out to him.

  She has a striking beauty. Piercing clear blue eyes and slightly long, wavy blond hair that was almost gold made her seem so otherworldly.

  'A goddess.'. He felt all the hair on his body stand up.

  *trudge* trudge

  She's so beautiful! But it was the goddess's empty expression that really stood out to him.

  It sent a shiver down his spine. The goddess looks like a statue.

  *trudge* trudge

  'Well, so what if she's that pretty?' Lepidus shrugged. 'I've seen better, especially my mother.'

  My mother is the most beautiful of them all!

  He turned his back and was about to make his way home. Suddenly, a sound so lonely stopped him in his tracks.

  It was a sweet voice. 'Singing?' He was a bit confused. Who was it? He turned his head back and scanned the crowd, and his gaze finally found the owner.

  *trudge* trudge

  It was the goddess.

  It's so lonely that it's soul-wrenching. It makes his soul want to get out of his body.

  *trudge* trudge

  The goddess's angelic singing voice seemed to draw Lepidus in, like a magnet, as he turned his whole body.

  And it was just in time for them to pass by him. He was starstruck when they got closer. His breath faltered.

  *trudge* trudge

  *thuthump* thump

  He felt like his whole body had turned on fire. 'The goddess is prettier up close.'

  'Why? Why do you sing like that? Do you also feel like me? Like the world has ended?' The question hangs in the air, unanswered.

  *trudge* trudge

  *thuthump* thump

  Without thinking, Lepidus found himself following the procession after they had passed by him, his fatigue, his heartbreak, and his loneliness momentarily forgotten.

  The procession's rhythmic pace seemed to lull Lepidus into a state of numbness.

  *thuthump* thump

  *******************************************

  INDEX:

  tunica - Roman youth clothing

  Cornelii - one of the prominent family in Rome (gentes)

  Vae - damn

  thermopolia - food store/tavern

  patrician - Roman nobles

  pleabian - commoners

  Antioch - city in Roman Syria

  Mausoleum Augusti- Emperor Augustus tomb

  Pompa Funebris - a funeral procession

  vilici - a slave that oversees his owner's house or states or fields