Heir of Aurelian

Frank moaned in displeasure as he carefully stacked the red bricks on top of the cement, binding them together. He could not believe he was spending the weekend helping his father build a wood fire kiln, when he could be out hanging out with his friends. He was not shy and quickly voiced his discontent with the current situation.

“Why the hell am I the one stuck building this stupid thing? Can’t Maria do it? I am in the prime of my youth and have other shit I could be doing!”

Frank’s father Marco was not the slightest bit happy with the tone his son was using, and instantly smacked him over the head with his cement encrusted hands.

“Watch your mouth, boy! Your know how your mother loves her pottery! Her birthday is coming up, and I intend to gift her this homemade kiln so she can create all the porcelain she desires! Besides, this is your punishment for building a still in the garage!

Did you really think your mother and I wouldn’t recognize that fucking thing for what it is because you slapped a label on it that says for water purification only? What kind of rotten brains do you have in that head of yours!?!”

Frank muttered under his breath a swear word to his father, which did not go unnoticed. The man quickly put his son’s priorities in order as he forced him to stack the red bricks._.

“I heard that! How about I tell you what your mother told me about making bone china while we finish this fucking thing? Supposedly, according to your mother, all you need to make bone porcelain is a mixture of 25% kaolin, 25% Petuntse, and 50% bone ash. After mixing this together, you form it to the shape you desire, and then fire it in a kiln heated up to 1260 degrees celsius or 2300 degrees Fahrenheit.

Once completed, you get a milky white, translucent product that is durable and easy to clean. You may not know this kid, but at one point in our history, people considered such high quality pottery an extreme luxury. Now quit your bitching and help me finish this fucking kiln!”

Frank ultimately did not stop his complaining, but he worked tirelessly throughout the day to help his father form a wood fire kiln out of red bricks and cement that could heat to the necessary temperature to make bone porcelain. By the time the product was finished, he and his old man gazed at the kiln with a sense of accomplishment.  Marco wrapped his arm around his son’s shoulder and complimented him for his efforts.

“Well, you bitched and moaned like a little girl the entire time, but you took your punishment like a man. For that, I am thankful. Your mother will be damn happy to see such a fine birthday present. For this, I’ll convince her to allow you to continue using your still. However, you are not going to be drinking on weekdays!”

Frank gazed up at his father with a shocked expression. He could hardly believe the old man was being so cool to him. He instinctively questioned the man’s judgement.

“Are you serious?”

Marco glared at his son, as if he was looking at an idiot, before questioning the boy’s intelligence.

“What? Do you morons actually think that you invented underage drinking? If there are two pastimes that we can hold dear as Americans, it is baseball and skirting the drinking laws. At least that nerdy friend of yours knows how to make some good hooch!”

Frank broke out into laughter when he heard this. For some reason, the old man’s statement was just too amusing. Seeing that his son was laughing, Marco joined him, as the two men gazed upon their newest creation while drinking a few ice cold beers in celebration of their achievement.

—

Marcellus awoke from his slumber. Normally after having these visions he would be sweating profusely, and startled beyond reason. However, he simply sighed heavily this time, and accepted this as a test from the gods. If this vision was like the others, then he would have just come up with another means to produce income. He would have to test out this improved kiln design, and the so-called mixture for bone porcelain later on.

He truly did not expect mere pottery to fetch such a large fortune. However, he would give it a try. Marcellus had yet to properly introduce his agricultural reforms across what little territory he currently held and had not even opened up a distillery. After all, he had to leave his prototype behind in Raetia when he raised his armies in rebellion against Honorius.

He had more hopes in the production of distilled spirits, then he did with this so-called porcelain. Still, if it was superior enough from the pre-existing pottery, he supposed it could fetch some form of price that would help aid in the development of the Empire.

Seeing that Sigefrida was still asleep by his side, Marcellus decided to get up from his bed and go for a walk. He put on a pair of trousers before heading out the door to his bedchambers. The night sky was shrouded in clouds, and because of this, it was very dark out.

He needed an oil lamp to properly see a few feet in front of him. Still, he did not waver and continued to walk across the palace before finding his wine cellar, where he opened up a flagon and poured its contents into a cup.

Marcellus was surprised to see that another oil lamp was burning as he returned to the main portion of the palace. Placidia was wide awake, sitting on a sofa piece, reading from a book as she drank from a cup of wine. A slight smile curved on the man’s face as he called out to the girl.

“You couldn’t sleep either, huh?”

Placidia reacted in shock when she heard Marcellus’ voice speak to her. She turned her head to see the sight of the man illuminated by his oil lamp. She noticed the glass of wine in his hands and smiled before raising hers as well.

“No, I was too excited to sleep. Since I couldn’t rest, I decided to do something productive and read up on the history of our forbearers. Did you know that our ancestors had contact with another powerful empire in the far east called Serica? supposedly, it is the land where silk originates from.

There was no official interaction between our two empires, but it would appear some of our merchants had come in contact with those from the mysterious land. I wonder if they still exist out there on the other side of the world…”

Marcellus was an educated man and knew about the rumors of Serica. He sat down next to Placidia and took a sip from his cup while nodding his head in agreement.

“One day, I would very much like to visit that part of the world. However, to do that, I would need to unite Rome under my banner and defeat the Sassanids. Otherwise, it is simply inconceivable for me to reach that far east. Too much stands in the way between us and them, and I fear that such ambitions would only be the fever dream of a madman.”

Placidia frowned when she heard Marcellus’ response. She scolded him for giving up on his dream of expanding eastward.

“It is not just a dream. I am certain you have the ability to make it a reality! I know in my heart that one day you will be recognized as the greatest emperor that Rome has ever had!”

In response to this, Marcellus could only chuckle and pet the girl’s head, which caused her to pout.

“I appreciate your idealism, Placidia. Perhaps if I ruled over the Empire of Trajan, I might be able to conquer my eastern neighbors and reach the mythical land of Serica. However, I am plagued with an Empire on the brink of collapse. Before I even think about bringing the Sassanids to heel, I must defeat Constantine, and force your nephew to kneel before me.

It is not just a matter of conquest, inflation is at an all-time high, and the people are starving. Before I can turn my eye eastward, I must mend the wounds that ravage our civilization. Only when the Empire is united in a state of its former glory can I think about bringing my sword to the East.

Assuming I live long enough to accomplish these things, and am neither slain in battle nor betrayed like my forbearers, then maybe, just maybe, I can gaze upon the land of silk with my own eyes. Until then, such a thing is nothing more than a dream, a hope to aspire to. You should get some rest, Placidia. It is not healthy to stay up all night.”

Placidia understood Marcellus’ words, but she still believed if anyone was capable of such a feat, it would be him. Of course, she could not understand the full weight that was thrust upon Marcellus’ shoulders the moment he rebelled against Honorius. He had made many enemies by usurping the throne of the West, and it would not be easy for him to survive. In the world of Romans, betrayal was all too common of an occurrence.

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