"Embers"
by Diane Shea
Divia/Lucius
Non-explicit, erotic situations
Drama

Copyright 1996
by Diane C. Shea

----------------------------------------------------
Warning:  This story deals with the events during the flashback in "A Mor=
e Permanent Hell".  Do note that within this flashback there are flashbac=
ks to a month or two before Vesuvius' well known eruption.  No spoilers f=
rom Ashes to Ashes, since I wrote this before having seen it.  =


Author notes:
Most of this story came to me at 3:00 am one night.  Took me three more w=
eeks to make sure the historical elements in the background were correct,=
 but you could say the basic plot was a spontaneous kind of thing. :)  I =
blame nearly all of it on Divia, btw.  She made me do it!

Comments, and/or a certain ancient Roman toga, can be sent to KerrRaven@a=
ol.com
------------------------------------------------------

Note:  These *** denote flashback lead ins and lead outs.  =

These ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ show scene changes
------------------------

"Embers"
by D. C. Shea

Pompeii.  August 24, 79 A.D.  Around noon.

     Selene wandered restlessly about the peristyle.  The garden in the m=
iddle of the room was awash in the sun's rays, but outside the boundary o=
f columns, the shadows ruled.  Selene felt the eerie quality of light and=
 dark paralleled her mind's condition.  In amongst the roses of her succe=
ss were thorns, as sharp and dangerous as any Legionnaire's dagger.  It w=
as true she had much to be thankful for.  Her prosperity was well known a=
mong the inhabitants of the city, and there were only a few who disapprov=
ed of her path to success.  Outwardly, she seemed happy.  A beautiful wom=
an who, through shrewd actions, had invested in the natural role of men a=
nd women, turning it to her advantage.  In the eyes of the people, she wa=
s constantly balanced on the edge between depravity and divinity, but alw=
ays managed to remain the envy of both patricians and plebeians alike.  =

     What threatened to destroy her plans had nothing to do with daily ch=
ores or the precarious lifestyle she indulged in.  Things beyond the norm=
al realm had invaded her routine.  Even so, she felt the necessity to try=
 to control that which was not her fault.  Her will was strong.  There we=
re times when it was all she'd had to raise her standard of living above =
what all would have expected.  She would not stop now.  =

     The party had been a wonderful diversion the night before, but it di=
d nothing to solve her problems.  She had no idea how she was going to ke=
ep Divia's condition secret from Lucius now that he had returned.  The ch=
ild had become unnatural to say the least, and she could not be sure he w=
ould accept her if he suspected something.  If he was to find out the det=
ails of Divia's new life he might have her killed.  Even of this, Selene =
could not be sure.  At best Lucius was unpredictable.  It was part of wha=
t she loved about him, even as she cursed him.  To add to her worries, th=
e very earth had been disturbed for the past few days, reminding her of t=
he great earthquake that occurred during her youth.  =

     Selene looked up through the opening in the roof.  Glancing towards =
the noonday sun, she wished the light cascading down could brighten her m=
ood as well as the greenery.  From the corner of her eye she saw a moveme=
nt.  Startled, she turned towards the source.  Divia stood quietly near h=
er, awaiting her attention.  Selene noticed how she carefully avoided the=
 rays of light.  =

     "Mother, I have come to give you a choice," spoke her daughter with =
unchild-like conviction.  =

     "And what choice is that?" she asked warily.  She had to admit, she =
feared her daughter's new ways.  =

     "A choice between eternal life or an upcoming death.  You cannot tel=
l me you have not noticed the warning of the mountain," Divia explained p=
atiently, as though the role of child and parent were reversed.
     Selene did not appreciate being lectured in this manner.  Whatever D=
ivia had become, *she* was still her mother.  "If you mean the tremblings=
 of the earth, then yes, I have felt them.  We may have to leave this dwe=
lling for a time if..."
     "No, you do not understand," Divia cut her off, her impatience begin=
ning to surface.  "It is greater than a small disturbance of the ground. =
 You would do well to fear it."
     Selene wondered at her choice of words.  "Am I to take it that *you*=
 will be spared?"
     Divia's reply was serious, not arrogant as she had expected.  "I wil=
l survive, unlike those who are mortal.  Unlike you, mother, if you do no=
t want to see reason.  I can make you into what I am.  The one who saved =
me taught me how."  =

     Selene had never thought of this.  She was not prepared for the emot=
ions that filled her heart.  "No!  I do not want...I cannot kill those ar=
ound me in such a way."
     "Would you rather die yourself?  Vesuvius' heart is in turmoil, make=
 no mistake.  Our city has become too proud.  The mountain will have--"  =
She stopped abruptly.  =

     Selene watched as Divia reacted to a sound too subtle for her own ea=
rs.  A moment later, an iron stand supporting a pitcher began to vibrate,=
 the water within rippling in agitation.  A low rumbling resonated from d=
eep in the earth as the ground shook beneath their feet.  After a minute =
all subsided.  The statues, a moment ago threatening to fall, were still =
once again.  =

     Divia looked at her mother, a hint of triumph in her eyes, and said,=
 "Do you need any more convincing?" =

     Selene felt her daughter was wrong in attributing this disturbance t=
o Vesuvius.  After all, Divia had not been born when the last earthquake =
had rocked Pompeii.  She was not sure if she was relieved or not.  "It ne=
ed not be the mountain that is the source of these fears.  We have surviv=
ed divisions of the very earth in this city before you were born.  It has=
 taken time to rebuild, but we are still here," she argued.  =

     "I had not thought you would be so blind.  I can feel the destructiv=
e force of the mountain.  It *is* a living thing.  It breathes terrible p=
romises.  I have been outside at night and witnessed her return to the li=
ving.  She gives off a heat that only I can feel.  There is a glow above =
her peak, dim red and orange flares reflected in the heavens.  Vesuvius' =
eye is opening.  When she wakes her gaze will blaze forth for all to see,=
 before they are destroyed.  I offer you a future!  Become like me and yo=
u will be saved."   =

     She thought of what Divia offered, her mind turning back to that nig=
ht of revulsion.    =


***
July, 79 A.D.

     Selene watched her daughter with anxiety as she fed upon one of thei=
r servants.  The body of the young woman fell to the floor in a rustle of=
 cloth as Divia released her.  Selene turned away at last, deeply disturb=
ed by what had become of her daughter.  =

     "You do not approve?" asked her now satisfied child.  Selene was sil=
ent.  Divia continued, annoyed, "What would you have me do?  I was given =
this power, though I never expected it.  It was not my choice, but I embr=
ace this chance.  I will have more than I could have dreamed possible."  =
When Selene did not agree or encourage her, she added bitterly, "Besides,=
 your plan failed." =

     Selene was reminded of what she had hoped would work out for the bes=
t.  If Divia could prove her worth to Lucius, her future might be better.=
  In Divia, she had seen her own immortality, even if he had not.  Securi=
ng her daughter's future would satisfy her.  Selene knew Lucius would not=
 acknowledge Divia as his own child, but she could tell he was fond of th=
e girl nonetheless.
     Selene understood the General's ways, though not as well as she unde=
rstood the man behind the title when he became her lover at night.  At ti=
mes it was hard to forgive him for never having taken her as his wife.  I=
t would have increased her standing considerably, though it might have pu=
lled his own reputation down a notch.  But she knew he could overcome tha=
t.  He had already worked hard to get where he was.  Through cold intelli=
gence and relentless determination, he'd won the admiration of his men, a=
nd the more grudging respect of the Roman hierarchy.  The truth was that =
he'd had no time to begin considering a permanent family, being in the se=
rvice of the Emperor required too much commitment.  Nor was he a kindhear=
ted man to begin with.  His element was in the early morning blood-mist o=
f the battlefield.  When they made love, Selene would be reminded of this=
 ruthlessness, but she delighted in the chance to give back what she rece=
ived.  He lived to control that which fought against him.  Most of the ti=
me she obeyed, and he let her do as she pleased.  It was only in the priv=
ate world of their passion that she would show her true feelings and beco=
me the lioness to his lion.  It was rare to find a man in all of the Empi=
re who enjoyed bringing a woman to the edge the way he did.  Most men del=
ighted in the chase, but rarely had a nature fit for reveling in the kill=
=2E  They had been drawn to each other since their first meeting.  Even a=
fter the birth of Divia, when Lucius should have uncomplicated his life b=
y forgetting about them for good, he chose to stay.  She was thankful for=
 this.  No other man understood her better, and both hated and loved her =
for it as much as he.  She had his protection against those who would lik=
e to do her harm, and in return, he had her beauty, and the attention of =
her daughter.  Selene had hoped, perhaps in vain, to tie him to them more=
 closely.  She realized now that Lucius' perversity was not as far reachi=
ng as she had counted on.  =

     "I *was* wrong," she admitted to her daughter.  "I thought I knew th=
e best way to his heart.  It is but another lesson we learn in life.  The=
re are some people who you cannot predict.  Even those that are closest t=
o you."  =

     Divia was no longer interested in mortal lessons.  "I have little ne=
ed to worry about things of that nature now.  The status I sought is no l=
onger of consequence."  =

     "Now you simply kill those in your way?" Selene asked, not wanting t=
o hear the answer.  =

     "I've no doubt that if you'd had the power in your early years as a =
servant, you would not have hesitated to use it," she pointed out.  "Besi=
des, it is not for pleasure or power alone that I do this.  I *must* take=
 their blood.  I have no choice."  =

     "I know," Selene replied quietly, understanding the true horror of D=
ivia's situation.  =


***
     Selene had tried to shut out the memory of that night, and the reali=
zation that Divia must continue to feed every night.  Now she faced a cho=
ice.  She could become like her daughter.  Become a creature, feeding off=
 the blood and life of young women, innocent boys.  Selene could feel dis=
gust at the unnaturalness of what she had been protecting begin to take h=
old of her.  =

     "You have become a servant of Orcus himself!  I do not want to join =
you in your fate," she accused, finally speaking the truth of her beliefs=
=2E  Her eyes clouding, Selene gave in to tears at last.  Her heart ached=
 over matters she could not control, choices she could not make. =

      If Divia were hurt by her mother's words, she did not show it.  "Fi=
ne," she said resignedly.  "I will go to Father.  He will take to the kil=
ling naturally, I'm sure."  That said, she turned away from her mother fo=
r the last time, crossed the room, and disappeared into the passageway le=
ading to the atrium.  =


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Around one o'clock in the afternoon, a premature night descended ove=
r the countryside.  In another part of the city a dog, sleeping in the en=
tryway of his master's dwelling, awoke from his dreaming.  He had been di=
sturbed by a rumbling, much like he had been four times that week already=
=2E  This time the noise did not die down like before.  It continued on u=
ntil reaching a crescendo of sound that deafened his sensitive ears.  And=
 there was more than simply noise.  The dog sniffed the air, whimpering a=
t the scent.  Something unnatural was invading his world.  He walked out =
as far as his tether would allow and looked about his territory.  His ins=
tinct told him he was still within the hours of light, but his pupils had=
 to widen to take in the dim surroundings.  The dog barked, desperate to =
alert his humans to the danger that was quickly surrounding them.  =

     A stone smelling of fire hurled down at him, nearly hitting his paw.=
  The dog retreated into the protection of the dwelling as far as he coul=
d.  The screams of people filled his ears and he barked in answer.  His m=
aster finally appeared, only to run by him.  The dog crouched out of his =
way as he went past, and then tried to follow, his tail wagging frantical=
ly.  The leash, that had never been a bother, had now become his worst en=
emy.  He pulled against the restraint as his master disappeared into the =
darkness outside the house.  =

     Minutes passed, and the dog, nearly exhausted from trying to gain an=
 impossible freedom, found the air around him turning sour.  As he breath=
ed, his lungs burned, and panic filled his mind.  He was drowning in the =
darkness.  Curling up on the floor he tried to shut out the pain, but the=
 burning continued.  His eyes bulged as they were seared by the toxins in=
 the air.  Finally, in a fit of convulsions the dog died, asphyxiated by =
the poisons from the mountain.  =


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Vesuvius chose to erupt as Divia gave her father the same choice she=
 had given her mother.  Under the circumstances, Lucius had thoughtlessly=
 chosen to live, never knowing what that would entail.  Amid the death an=
d destruction of an entire city, Divia smiled.  She had not wanted to be =
alone, with only Rhaneus for company.  Her father would prove a more soci=
able companion as she looked for a new place to settle.  He might even le=
arn to like the decision he had made, in time.  =

     Divia looked at the near lifeless form of her mother's lover sprawle=
d upon the floor.  His eyes closed, his breathing stilled, he lay like on=
e dead.  Almost complete satisfaction had been gained by the taking of hi=
s blood.  It had almost been impossible to stop in time.  She might have =
believed she'd failed had she not felt the beginnings of a connection wit=
h he who had once been her father.  It was thin as a spider's weaving, bu=
t it was forming.  =

     It would be *she* who would have to give him back his life.  With he=
r blood she could revive him.  On her whim she could deny him.  She knew =
he would try to forget who it was responsible for his existence.  Who it =
was that now controlled him, as he had controlled her mother and herself.=
  She would make him understand.  He would pay for his indiscretion with =
Selene, and his refusal of her.  =

      As she watched, Lucius began to stir.  The need she'd anticipated w=
as becoming evident in his eyes, golden light replacing the usual pale bl=
ue, at his first cautious glances about the room.  After many years train=
ing as a soldier he was skilled at reasoning things out under pressure an=
d pain, but this was testing his limits.  His thoughts were being brushed=
 aside, the noise and fiery hail raining through the skylight forgotten, =
as a single, simple need overtook him.  It was partly an emotional, but m=
ostly a physical hunger that burned through his mind and body.
     Divia saw the rising agony of his look and made her presence known t=
o him.  As his blazing eyes fell on her, Lucius snarled reflexively, a de=
ep animal sound that no human could make.  Although she did not fear him,=
 she braced herself for what would come.  Her powers were not strong yet =
and his rage and natural strength might overwhelm her.  At this stage tha=
t would be fine, but in time she would be his complete master.  Now, he w=
ould think he had taken her, made her his victim.  He would learn the tru=
th in short order.  =

    She watched as he struggled briefly to keep from giving over complete=
ly to the hunger.  This was one battle the General would not win.  She mo=
ved closer, driving his temptation to the edge.  =

     "You hesitate to kill me, I see.  You *must* have loved me then," Di=
via taunted.
     Lucius nearly trembled as he was defeated by the compelling need to =
kill and feed.  If it was to be his daughter foolish enough to appear lik=
e a sacrificial goat before him...then so be it!
     "You have brought this upon yourself, Divia!" he accused, giving up =
the fight.  He was on her in an instant, brutally yanking her around to f=
ace him.
     "Yes, I have," she responded as calmly as possible, recalling just h=
ow true that statement was.  =


***
June, 79 A.D.

     She sat on the edge of the pool in the spacious atrium, listening to=
 the steady flow of the fountain, and waiting for her father to return.  =
As she watched, the water plunged over the edge of the dolphin's mouth, h=
itting the tesserae of the mosaic, distorting its intended beauty.  She f=
ound she liked the newly formed patterns, which whirled and changed as th=
e water churned, more than the original.  There was a greater feeling of =
power in the chaos of the water than in the scene richly embellished with=
 tiles.  =

     She did not have long to wait before the General appeared at the ent=
rance to the room, wearing the paludamentum that clearly denoted his rank=
=2E  He had returned from a meeting of the Legion's commanders at the For=
um.  She had anticipated wisely.  He was alone for once, without that foo=
l of a Proconsul hovering around, or some beauty from the willing throng =
of whores that her mother saw fit to employ.  Even so, he probably would =
have gone past her if she hadn't called to him.  =

     "General," she spoke smoothly.  =

     Lucius stopped, slightly startled, and turned to look in her directi=
on.  "Divia!  My dear, I'm sorry.  My thoughts have been elsewhere."  His=
 look of repentance was almost sincere.
    "Your meeting did not go well?" she asked, feigning interest.
     Lucius glanced upwards in exasperation at the recent memory, "Someti=
mes it is impossible to make people see reason."
     She rose from beside the pool and walked slowly towards him.  "If *y=
ou* could not convince them, then no one can.  Do not worry yourself abou=
t it," she added reasonably.
     Lucius smiled at her simplicity, "I appreciate your confidence.  But=
 you must understand, I would not be in the position I am now if I follow=
ed that advice.  One cannot give in simply because one is repelled after =
the first battle.  To win the war takes relentless pursuit."  Lucius brie=
fly wondered why he was confiding this to a female.  He sighed.  Just ano=
ther facet of an incredibly useless day.  =

     "You are tired then.  I will bring you wine," she offered demurely.
     "Do not bother yourself with that.  As much as I would like to forge=
t this day with the gifts of Bacchus, I won't.  While my opponents celebr=
ate their victory, I will be productive in my thoughts," he explained, ev=
en less thrilled with the idea than he sounded.  With the death of Vespas=
ian, and succession of his son, came changes in the governing of the Empi=
re, not all of them practical.  Sometimes Lucius felt there were as many =
enemies in the service of Rome as there were outside it.  He was of the f=
irm belief that any man who did not know an enemy's phalanx from his own =
phallus was not to be trusted in the planning of a campaign.  At least th=
ere was some comfort in knowing that once in the field the fight went smo=
othly.  It was the arguing on how to get there that was the hell of it.  =
  =

     Divia could tell her father was once again thinking of anything but =
her.  She did not need him in this kind of mood.  She tried looking depre=
ssed when his distracted gaze fell over her again.  Finally her father's =
eyes cleared of worry as they focused completely on her.  She walked clos=
er to him and brightened her look a little.  He smiled pleasantly down at=
 her.  She returned the smile but added something to its meaning with the=
 skills Selene had taught her.  Lucius watched her, realizing just how li=
ke her mother she was.  =

     Divia took the opportunity to move even closer to him, so that they =
were nearly touching.  When he did not react, she pressed further, gently=
 taking hold of his arm to pull him down to her level.  He complied, fasc=
inated by this turn of emotions.  She had him on one knee before her, as =
if she were an Empress.  It was here that she realized that all men reall=
y were fools at heart, just as her mother had said.  To be used to her ad=
vantage whenever needed.  =

     She looked into his eyes, hoping to find that which she could use.  =
As always his gaze was icy, but whether he intended this or not was never=
 certain.  Too many years commanding the forces of the Empire had made th=
is lack of feeling natural.  She brought her hand up to delicately touch =
the side of his face.  There might have been a slight softening in his ey=
es, but of that she could not be sure.  He did take her hand in his, care=
fully, and raised it to his lips, kissing it lightly.  When he had releas=
ed her hand, she turned and leaned back against him.  Through the skyligh=
t she could see Orion in the heavens and smiled slightly at the thought o=
f herself as a great hunter.  She would ensnare the will of her prey.  =

     It was obvious that at the moment Lucius would go no farther than sh=
e would allow, but she was prepared for that to change.  Men were fools, =
but also beasts.  Her head resting against the base of his throat, she br=
ought her arm up to encircle the back of his neck.  He wrapped his arms a=
round her waist lightly, still letting her initiate the action.  Divia la=
ughed inwardly, delighted by how pathetically easy it would be to manipul=
ate her father after this.  Just one night and he would be hers.  She str=
oked her fingers through the velvety hair at the base of his skull, and t=
urned her head to kiss and nuzzle his neck.  His pulse beat strongly agai=
nst her ear as she lingered there.  She disengaged herself from his embra=
ce slightly to turn and look at him.  In the dim light of the torches she=
 saw more in his half closed eyes than most people had ever seen.  She pu=
t everything Selene had taught her into a look that simply and exquisitel=
y stated, "I want you."  =

     Her heart beat swiftly as he leaned down to kiss her with more passi=
on than usual.  =


***
     Divia's heart beat not at all as her father glared down at her, neit=
her seeing nor caring who it was before him.  He was no more than a vicio=
us animal now.  This was also what she was, what she had been given.  She=
 worked to find strength against his coming attack in the power of her im=
mortality.  =

     The power of Vesuvius had begun to reassert itself also, as the proc=
ess of destruction continued.  Soot from the burning volcano drifted down=
 through the skylight, choking the fountain, and covering the dolphin in =
a fine layer of powder.  The foundation shuddered.  The sounds of breakin=
g glass and crumbling stone replaced the mild flowing of the water.  Both=
 Divia and Lucius ignored the chaos around them, consumed as they were wi=
th the drama of the first hunger.  =

     Lucius gripped Divia's shoulders tightly.  For all his snarling, he =
did not quite know what to do with her.  She wondered if she had been lik=
e that, when she awoke for the first time to her new existence.  Strangel=
y, she could not recall any details of those first hours.  It was probabl=
y for the best.  =

     Her father's new instincts were working, but her heart did not call =
to him, and he was not drawn to her blood as strongly as he would have be=
en to a mortal's.  She began to get impatient.
     "What do you think these are for?" she asked, and reached up to touc=
h his newly formed fangs as he hissed at her.  He caught her hand in his =
before she could complete her explanation, gripping her wrist tight enoug=
h that she could actually feel the pain.  Holding back no longer, Lucius =
bent his daughter under him, crushing her to him in a deadly embrace.  =


***
June

     Divia smiled and felt a sense of triumph as she witnessed the emotio=
ns in her father's eyes.  She gracefully slipped off her stola, letting i=
t fall to the ground, and returned naked to his arms.  With one hand he c=
aressed her shoulder, trailing his fingers lightly down her arm, as he he=
ld her close with the other.  Suppressing a shiver at his touch, she pres=
sed herself against him.  She enjoyed the warmth of his body on her bare =
skin, momentarily forgetting her purpose.  She was supposed to seduce him=
, not the other way around.  His lips brushed the back of her neck as he =
kissed her lightly.  Try as she might, she couldn't keep from shivering a=
s he breathed into her ear, "You are beautiful, my Divia.  You will be li=
ke a goddess."  =

     "I will be your goddess," she agreed.  She took his hand in hers and=
 brought it to her mouth, kissing it.  Then she moved away, holding his h=
and to her young breast.  "Come with me," she commanded and pulled gently=
 on his arm, coaxing him to follow her.  =

     He rose to his full height, his expression changing to amusement, an=
d asked of her, "To where?"  =

     "To where you can enjoy my company fully," she said as coyly as one =
could.  =

     Moving his hand to her chin, he gently tilted her head upwards to lo=
ok at him. =

     "My dear, I cannot," he stated calmly.  =

     Doubt struck her like an arrow.  "You do not love me?" she asked, sk=
illfully hiding her anger.  =

     "Oh Divia, don't you see I do?  It is just that you are still so you=
ng."  Not to mention she was his daughter, Lucius refrained from adding. =
 =

     "I am old enough to marry!" Divia countered, forgetting her control.=
  "Of course, since you will not acknowledge me as your daughter what cha=
nce do I have to marry someone worthy?  Instead, I am simply the daughter=
 of a whore!"  =

     "You possess a vicious tongue, my dear.  Any man betrothed to you wo=
uld have to watch his back."  Lucius' tone was sharp.  She stared coldly =
at him.  "I am sorry," he said more softly.  "It is not that I don't care=
 about you and your mother, but my life does not have a place for a wife =
or child.  I could be slain in the field at any time.  I cannot divide my=
 responsibilities like that.  Perhaps later I will seek a family, but for=
 now..."  =

     "For now, you will just enjoy my mother as much as you want," she ac=
cused.  =

     "Yes," he stated simply.  =

     Disgusted, she turned from him, taking the palla off the nearby loun=
ge and wrapping it about herself.  She would not give up this easily.  =

     "I could,..." she paused, turning to gaze at him maliciously, "...te=
ll everyone the truth."  She watched closely, trying to determine the tru=
th of his feelings, regardless of his words.  Lucius stood motionless for=
 a few heartbeats, then his eyes took on a gleam of delight and, to Divia=
's chagrin, he laughed.  =

     "Is that truly what this is about?  Know this, daughter, you have mu=
ch to learn about coercion."  Her anger flared at his words.  He noted he=
r hatred and continued, "For one thing, you should never try to bargain w=
ith one who could have you killed without question."  Divia did not flinc=
h at this, though she knew he could do it.  "And for another," Lucius' gr=
in widened, "never use as your secret weapon something which is already k=
nown by all."
     This time she was caught off guard.  Still, she looked at him as if =
he were bluffing.  "You have told them then?" she asked, uncertain.  =

     "I did not need to," he explained.  "I have never been one skilled a=
t keeping my indiscretions secret.  Also, have you ever noticed there are=
 not many as fair-haired as we about?  Your lovely but dark-haired mother=
 had not shown an interest in any other light-haired men besides me at th=
at time.  It is something we should have considered, but of course we did=
 not.  I could not have stopped speculation if I had wanted to."  Lucius =
thought about it, and then continued, "I really have little need to worry=
=2E  There is not much you can say about a General that will raise eyebro=
ws these days.  A scandal would probably help my reputation more than har=
m it, I should think."  =

     Divia was astonished at the way he brushed her threat aside.  She kn=
ew she had lost.  She gave him as withering a look as she dared.  Then, w=
ithout a word, she retreated behind the drapery into the tablinum, defeat=
 compelling her to silence.  Unfortunately, she had not gone far enough t=
hat she missed the newly arrived Proconsul's conversation with Lucius.  =

     "General, you look the worse for a night as fair as this," Flavius a=
nnounced happily.  "What troubles you?"  =

     "Flavius, why did I have to have a daughter?" Lucius asked quietly, =
in mock despair.  =

     "Perhaps because the feminine beauty of Selene could not be stifled.=
  The gods felt it should be doubled," he replied in his slightly drunken=
 logic.  =

     "And does my own manliness count for nothing?" Lucius asked jokingly=
=2E  =

     "Oh it does, but not yet.  Selene is not the one to give you the son=
 you desire," the Proconsul answered more seriously.
     "You are right," Lucius agreed.  "If she had given me a boy I would =
have been more tempted to claim him fully.  But that is not what I wanted=
=2E  At least, not yet."  Lucius' eyes were focused on something beyond t=
he walls of the house, to a goal as yet unattainable.  =

     Divia had heard enough.  Annoyed, she continued on to her rooms.  Sh=
e meant nothing to him, despite what he might tell her.  She would have t=
o find another way to obtain the power she would need to live prosperousl=
y.  =


***
     She had been successful in finding it.  The one who was now her mast=
er had saved her from her illness.  On the edge of death she had been giv=
en a new chance.  With it came understanding, and the ability to control =
those who would have used her, had she still been mortal.  =

     *Had* Divia been mortal, her father would have broken her neck as he=
 jerked her head to one side and bit into her throat.  His curving teeth =
went deep into her carotid.  The feeling of pain was ghostlike, more imag=
ined than real.  The feeling of pleasure, on the other hand, as Lucius to=
ok her slowly coursing blood into himself, was shockingly intense.  If th=
is was what her victims felt like as she drained them, they did not need =
to be called victims!  Unfortunately, she was becoming weak, and they had=
 to leave soon, before they were buried like the mortals.  Pumice and ash=
 rained down into the impluvium from above, the fiery embers sizzling as =
they hit the water.  She tried to push him away, to free herself from his=
 all encompassing hold on her, and found it was impossible.  She realized=
 that acting as if you were in charge, and actually being in control, wer=
e two completely different things, and decided a little help would not hu=
rt.
     "Rhaneus," she called, as coherently as possible under the circumsta=
nces.  For a moment she was afraid he wouldn't help her.  Perhaps he figu=
red it was her problem which she must deal with alone.  Before she could =
worry about what that would mean, she felt pleasure become pain as a blur=
 of color knocked into her father, tearing his fangs out of her flesh.  T=
he sound of growling filled the air, rivaling the clamor of the dying cit=
y.  =

     Before her, her master's servant held Lucius by the throat, ready to=
 end the General's new existence if she wished it.  He was probably the m=
ost frightening creature she had ever seen.  His rage was ever active.  H=
is eyes burned brighter than hers or her father's, and when they fell on =
her, she could not help but cringe a little.  This was what her master ha=
d ordered to protect her.  Being brought into the dark world at such a yo=
ung age was too dangerous to face alone, so he had placed Rhaneus to watc=
h over her.  Sometimes he outdid himself.  =

     Unfortunately, the General was not aware of the status of his attack=
er.  As rational as a lion disturbed from its kill by hyenas, Lucius foug=
ht back.  With an unnatural growl he struggled to free himself from her p=
rotector's crushing restraint.  It was no contest as Rhaneus sank his muc=
h longer and sharper teeth into the back of the General's neck near the s=
pine.  Panic and hatred filled Lucius' mind, and Divia found she could fe=
el these things through their newly formed bond.  He hissed as Rhaneus bi=
t down harder, tightening his hold.  Unlike her father's and her own teet=
h, Rhaneus' were designed to inflict pain on their own kind as much as on=
 mortals.  As the blood flowed down Lucius' neck, Divia decided things ha=
d gone far enough.  =

     "Let him go," Divia commanded.  Rhaneus hesitated, snarling his disa=
pproval.  It was obvious that the idea of keeping track of another new ad=
dition to their world was not to his liking.  =

     Perhaps fortunate for all of them, after the initial shock, Rhaneus'=
 bite had a quieting effect on Lucius.  The gold was slowly fading from h=
is eyes.  He now stood very still in Rhaneus' grip, the realization of wh=
at he and Divia were, and what was tearing into him, took up most of his =
concentration.  =

     Divia tried to reason with Rhaneus, "I did not go through this troub=
le to have you kill him, now did I?"  =

     An ancient creature himself, Rhaneus did not enjoy giving in to one =
so young.  His instinct told him to drain the arrogant bastard in his arm=
s.  His charge did not know what she was getting herself into.  Unfortuna=
tely, it was not his decision to make.  He finally conceded to her wishes=
, removing his fangs from Lucius' neck and licking the blood that flowed =
from the wound.  As he released him, Lucius closed his eyes and sank to h=
is knees, momentarily weakened by the new loss of blood.  =

     Divia was not pleased with Rhaneus' actions, but she did not dare pu=
sh it.  "Thank you for your help.  Go now and find a way for us to escape=
 from this place.  We cannot stay here."  =

     He gave her the slightest sign of acknowledgment and was gone.  Reli=
eved, she took the opportunity to go to her father and briefly explain th=
e life he must now lead.  There was too much to learn in such a short tim=
e, but it would have to suffice.  =


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Lucius had recovered quickly once Rhaneus had left.  Divia repeated =
to him most of what her own creator had told her.  =

     "And we are truly eternal?" he asked with wonder.  =

     "Yes...father," she replied pointedly, taking his hand in hers.  And=
, she thought to herself, he was eternally indebted to her.  She saw litt=
le need to add this.  His apprehensive look confirmed her suspicions.  He=
 had already realized that although she was his daughter, she was also hi=
s master.  She traced a finger up along the inside of his arm, smiling wi=
th a hint of smug self-satisfaction.  He stood by her, stoically allowing=
 her to tease him, though not at all pleased with the way eternity was st=
arting out.  =

     There was a low growl and flash of eyes as Rhaneus returned to her s=
ide.  Lucius stepped back reflexively from the newly returned menace.  Di=
via looked at Rhaneus, her question evident.  He glanced sharply towards =
the skylight in the center of the room, indicating their path of escape. =
 She was not sure she wanted to take it.  Divia had maintained a hope tha=
t Rhaneus would know of an underground route through the city.  Before, h=
e had seemed to imply that he did.  =

     "Is there no other way?" she couldn't keep from asking.  =

     His impatience mounted and he snarled openly at her foolishness.  A =
mental image flashed through her mind.  The easy way out had been blocked=
 by the lava flow.  Flight would be their only choice.  Divia quit arguin=
g and turned to convince Lucius.  =

     "Come.  The sun cannot show its face today, but we can't survive the=
 mountain's fire anymore than that of the heavens.  We must leave."  =

      His still human emotions warring between fear and disdain, Lucius w=
as not thrilled with the idea of following Rhaneus anywhere.  Divia looke=
d up toward the way in which they would have to leave.  The sky was black=
=2E  The only light around them came from the torches, which were slowly =
being stifled as the oxygen was replaced by sulfurous vapors.  Another tr=
emor ran through the city.  A column, supporting a large portion of the c=
eiling's weight, crumbled.  She decided the only way to deal with the sit=
uation was simply to act.  Lucius would have to learn the ways of their k=
ind the hard way.
     Turning to Rhaneus, she gave him unspoken permission to do what he m=
ust.  Then she turned from them both and disappeared into the tumultuous =
blackness.  =

     Without Divia to call off her pet mongrel, the General was at a loss=
=2E  He had a choice between following his daughter into some hellish pse=
udo-night, trusting in a newly created instinct to make up for lack of ex=
perience in flying, or staying where he was, to possibly be torn apart by=
 a beast more vicious than the coliseum bears.  His eyes went gold from a=
ggravation at the thought.  =

     Taking this as provocation, Rhaneus immediately lunged, rumbling his=
 anger.  Retreating slightly, the General snarled in answer, baring sharp=
 teeth briefly, but doing no more than that.  Even the lion knew when *no=
t* to fight back.  Especially if the bear had already proven his strength=
=2E  Lucius glanced behind him, to where he would be forced to go.  Rhane=
us advanced, whatever patience he had possessed long since vanished.  Clo=
sing his eyes in resignation, Lucius gave up.  He turned his back on the =
ever growling monster and let instinct take over.  Without a thought for =
the life he could never return to--the light and love that would never be=
 his again--he focused his will on finding his creator.  In a moment, he =
was gone, leaving Rhaneus to glare at empty space.    =

     The ancient one did not linger in the atrium of the dying establishm=
ent, in the middle of the dying city.  The finality of death had no meani=
ng to him.  Pompeii was simply another ending.  Watching out for Divia, a=
nd warring with Lucius, would be another beginning.  It was an endless cy=
cle, and he had little patience for any of it.  Rhaneus hissed at the gen=
eral state of the world, and then followed after those whom his master ha=
d bade him watch over.  =


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     Ash, white as powder, steadily took the place of the living in Pompe=
ii.  Those not dead were trapped, to be finished off later by suffocation=
, starvation, or insanity.  The dog, its death unnoticed by the rest of t=
he doomed inhabitants, was surrounded by ash and entombed.  =


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
     =

     Amidst the darkness, two pairs of glowing embers paused to watch the=
 final destruction.  A third pair, brighter than the others, continued on=
 without a glance.  Divia and Lucius, for different reasons, thought of a=
 woman with compelling eyes and raven-black hair.  The moment held a life=
time of emotion, shared by father and daughter, and the last they would e=
xperience for a millennium or more.  The wind picked up, scattering the a=
shes of humanity from their minds, as it did from Pompeii.  In time, even=
 the embers had faded, and nothing existed in the eternal city of ruin.  =


*fin*

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