One week after the dream...

  Caligu sat in the tutor's chambers, located within his grandmother Antonia's vil urbana, where they had been residing since his father's death.

  He gnced around the airy space.

  The room carried the scent of aged papyrus and hardened wax tablets, making it feel smaller than it was—almost confining.

  And yet, it was a mess. Stacks of scrolls and tablets were scattered everywhere.

  It was said that this room held the wealth of cssical Roman knowledge, but to pile it all up as if it were nothing more than discarded clothing?

  Caligu couldn't help but show a hint of distaste in his eyes.

  ........

  For the first time in years, he could express his emotions again. Was it because of that dream—when his father telling him to wake up?

  The eleven year old boy didn't know. It had been too long.

  But he remembered being aware of his surroundings, of what was happening, and it felt like as if his soul had been a mere spectator, trapped within his own body. He had no control, and everything was shrouded in haze.

  As if his mind had hidden it away from him.

  But now, one week after the dream, he felt himself returning to normal. He is quick to adjust to the changes.

  Although, how do you even define being normal when he's been like this as far as he can remember?

  Still, something has been restored though. He just felt it. The need to speak. The feelings.

  They had all come rushing back at once.

  At first, he couldn't control it.

  After waking from that dream and seeing his mother's back, smashing ceramics while sobbing, he had locked himself in his cubiculum and also wept for a long time.

  It was as if a dam had burst inside him.

  He thought it would pass. After all, his vision remained the same—gray. So, he chose to ignore it.

  And so, Caligu continued with his daily life. Every day he tried to make sense of his fragmented memories and how to familiarize himself to his new reality.

  And one morning while they are having their ientaculum, he asked Antonia to pass him the ligu, he can suddenly feel that everyone are utterly shocked—especially his grandmother, who he thinks broke into tears as she handed it to him, adding the culter as well.

  She had even pulled him into a tight embrace, whispering thanks to Jupiter.

  Although he can't see their faces, he can tell who is who based on their auras.

  And he can tell that his siblings and even Antonia had immediately realized—his mind had returned.

  It was like waking up from a dream, one that had sted ever since that time in Vetera castrum.

  Caligu heard the rustle of scrolls, pulling him back to reality.

  His gaze flickered toward the old man—their tutor. His eyes habitually sought the man's face.

  Right. Still faceless.

  It still unsettled him.

  Even though he had regained control over his emotions and thoughts, his expression remained unchanged—a vacant, hollow look still painted across his features.

  But his eyes… his eyes now held a glimmer, a light that had been absent before.

  I think my facial muscles have gone stiff from years of not using them, he thought. How long has it been? Since I was four or five? Or was it seven?

  He gave up trying to recall the past.

  Caligu forced himself to focus on the lesson, turning his attention to the old man who stood proudly before them.

  It was said that their tutor was a wise and learned man, handpicked by his grandmother herself.

  I don't know how to feel about that, he thought, once again gncing around at the disorganized state of the room.

  Beside him sat one of his younger sisters, it's Julia Agrippina the Younger—or simply Julia.

  She was almost seven years old, and November would mark the beginning of her formal education.

  Due to Caligu's prolonged illness and the chaos surrounding their father's death, he had fallen behind in his studies.

  Typically, a Roman boy would begin his education at the age of seven, but their family had been in mourning for years. Their long journey from Syria to Rome had taken months.

  As a result, he was only now beginning his formal education—alongside his younger sister, Julia. It had been a month since their lessons had started.

  She sat with every bit of poise expected of an imperial daughter, her posture perfect, he can feel that her attention is unwavering—concentrating like a good student.

  He looked at her face. Still blurry. He bit his lips. Still feeling frustrated with his inability to discern his sister's face.

  The two of them were receiving instruction in the cssical Roman education.

  "For nobles," the tutor began, his voice stern but measured, "education is the key to maintaining power and influence..."

  He felt the old man swept his gaze over his two pupils, ensuring he had their full attention.

  His toga swayed with every movement.

  "I will guide you through the wonders of Roman literature, the rhythms of Greek music, and the timeless tales of fabue."

  Caligu tried to listen intently.

  But his attention was drawn to the open scroll in front of him.

  It bore an illustration of the Roman gods—intricate drawings with delicate shading that instantly captivated him.

  He couldn't look away.

  The gods and goddesses, their sacred tales, the myths that expined the world and how it came to be…

  Though he admired the stories of Jupiter's thunderbolts and Mars' bravery in battle, it wasn't the legends that fascinated him most.

  It was what he could see.

  His fingers twitched.

  Caligu reached for the scroll—he couldn't help himself.

  It was an irresistible impulse.

  He traced the etched lines, the embossed patterns, feeling the rough texture of the papyrus beneath his fingertips.

  The scent of ink, mingled with the sweet fragrance of the aged scroll, filled his nostrils.

  As he explored the illustration, something strange happened.

  Faces, usually a blur to him, emerged with crity. The expressions of Jupiter and Mars were rendered with lifelike precision.

  Who drew this? he wondered.

  It felt alive in his vision.

  A sharp, reprimanding voice snapped him back to reality.

  "Caligu, pay attention! You must learn to recite the great works of Cicero and Caesar."

  Caligu nodded, feeling guilty for getting caught not listening.

  He tried to focus on the lesson.

  But his eyes kept drifting back to the scroll—the world of historiae contained within its pages.

  I don't want to recite anything, though… it's boring, he thought.

  A pang of jealousy struck him. His brothers and even the commoners seemed to have more freedom, more choices than he did.

  He knew that, as a member of the imperial family, he was expected to excel in all areas.

  His brothers had already learned the basics and had moved on to a different tutor, receiving advanced education and training in martial arts.

  Meanwhile, commoners received a more practical education—focused on trade skills and basic literacy.

  What's the point of all this, anyway? he wondered. The emperor's son is already the appointed heir, repcing our father. Even if that weren't the case, my older brothers would be next in line.

  His younger sisters—he could understand why they needed this. Their education would shape their futures when they married into one of the great gentes...

  But Caligu?

  He couldn't help but question why he had to learn all this.

  He had no reason to.

  Caligu was more interested in learning a trade like the commoners, in living a simpler life, free from the weight of imperial expectations.

  It will only tie you down… just like Mother's obsession with politics now.

  A bitter taste lingered in his mouth.

  As the tutor continued speaking, Caligu's gaze remained fixated on the scroll.

  He had already memorized nearly every detail of the images.

  The intricate depictions of the gods provided a rare escape from the monochromatic world his achromatopsia confined him to.

  The vibrant hues others took for granted were lost to him; he perceived only shades of gray.

  Yet the detailed artistry of the drawings allowed his imagination to fill in the colors he couldn't see—the faces he missed.

  It gave him a sembnce of the crity others experienced effortlessly.

  ........

  The tutor, noticing Caligu's distraction yet again, narrowed his eyes.

  He already knew of the boy's illness, though he didn't know the extent of it.

  Not that he believed in it at all.

  For one, the boy didn't look sick or cursed.

  In fact, he looked perfectly normal and healthy—save for that expressionless face he had worn for the past month.

  And frankly, the tutor found himself irritated by the boy's absentminded behavior in every lesson.

  But now, Caligu seemed… different.

  There was intelligence in his gaze.

  Still, the tutor wasn't convinced.

  This was just attention-seeking behavior.

  And he had to put a stop to it.

  The old man tapped his fingers against his toga, considering his approach.

  After all, the boy's status was still higher than his own.

  ........

  Yet, as he opened his mouth to reprimand Caligu, he hesitated.

  He understood, to some extent, why the child acted this way.

  Suddenly deprived of his mother's care and attention… abruptly thrown to the wolves to fend for himself…

  Theodore—the tutor—thought back to the boy's mother.

  He was privy to the hushed whispers about Agrippina.

  Once a paragon of virtue and maternal devotion…

  Now, a woman consumed by ambition.

  She would stop at nothing to secure her children's cim to the throne—no matter the cost to their well-being.

  Her relentless pursuit of power had become a subject of gossip, whispered in the halls of Rome.

  Many believed she was more concerned with advancing her own interests than with nurturing her children.

  The tutor, for one, found her behavior unbecoming of a woman.

  A woman's pce was beside her children, not entangled in the ruthless game of politics.

  And now? Her children were acting zy.

  His jaw tightened as he strode toward Caligu, whose attention was still elsewhere.

  No! Not in his css! He had a reputation to uphold!

  He had only agreed to this position because he owed Antonia—Caligu's grandmother.

  But enough was enough!

  The old man stopped in front of Caligu's table.

  His gaze shifted downward, toward the object that had completely captured the boy's attention.

  A scroll with drawings.

  Theodore's gaze lingered on it for a moment before he scoffed.

  "I see the images have captured your interest," he remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

  "These depictions of Jupiter and Mars are indeed captivating. More so than my lessons, it seems?"

  Caligu didn't like the tutor's tone.

  His fingers curled into a fist as he shot a gnce at Julia.

  She had stopped writing, her small hands frozen over her papyrus.

  He can feel that her eyes went wide—she's worried.

  The room felt colder.

  Caligu's grip tightened around the scroll in front of him. He could feel the brittle edges pressing against his palms.

  Then, he met the tutor's gaze. Or at least tried to. Pretending to see his face—and look him in the eye.

  Defiant.

  Now or never. He thought.

  "I find the stories behind these images more captivating than mere recitations," he said.

  The words felt strange on his tongue. Foreign. Like they didn't belong to him.

  Theodore exhaled sharply, his lips pressing into a thin line.

  "Harumph." He cleared his throat, then turned to Julia.

  "…Julia, continue with the declension of bellum."

  Julia hesitated before quietly reciting the Latin words.

  But Theodore wasn't listening.

  His frustration festered, growing with every sylble she uttered.

  His gre flicked back to Caligu.

  "It seems your mother has allowed you to become someone with loose moral fiber," he sneered, his voice rising.

  Caligu remained still.

  Theodore leaned in slightly, eyes glinting with something almost cruel.

  "Your mother," he continued, "who has all but forgotten she has children… but she was quite vocal in her suspicions of foul py, wasn't she?"

  He tilted his head mockingly.

  "Accusing men of higher standing than herself—a dangerous game, indeed."

  The words had barely left his mouth when—

  BANG!

  The chamber doors burst open, smming against the walls with a deafening thud.

  Agrippina, their mother, strode into the room, a vision of unshakable authority.

  ********************************

  INDEX:

  vil urbana - A grand, luxurious country estate

  ientaculum - Breakfast or morning meal

  ligu - spoon

  culter - knife

  Vetera castrum - military camp in chapter 2 (little boots)

  fabue - Mythical stories or legends, in this case, about the Roman gods

  Cicero and Caesar - Famous Roman statesmen and writers whose works and legacy would still have been widely studied and admired in ancient Rome

  historae - Historical accounts or stories

  gentes - Noble families or cns

  achromatopsia - A rare genetic disorder that affects Caligu's vision, causing him to see the world in shades of gray

  declension - A grammatical term referring to the changing forms of Latin words

  bellum - War or conflict