#commodus au

For young Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus, mythology was more than a collection of simple bedtime stories. They were aspirational tales of divine valor for the rising emperor in him, and a fantastical escape for the playful child within him. Tired of hearing tutors drone for hours about insipid philosophy and mind-numbing mathematical theorems, the legends of brave kings, beautiful nymphs, and horrifying-yet-powerful creatures was an oasis of wonder for the eight-year-old. Whether many of those stories were actually true or not was an entirely different matter; he loved them and believed in them with unwavering faith.

"Pompeii…after the eruption of Vesuvius?"

"Yes, Highness," Servilla, governess of the young emperor of Rome, narrated to him one night. "It was said that the first dragon eggs were found at the foot of the volcano after the eruption of Mount Vesuvius had taken place."

Little Commodus sat up excitedly in bed, eager to hear more.

"There were three of them, buried beneath layers of ash and ignored for several years until the eruption. It is said that dragon eggs could be hatched in the presence of roaring flames, and can only occur with the sacrifice of human blood. The legends say the many lives lost in Pompeii was the necessary offering for the gods to bring the dragons to Earth."

"Who is the patron god of dragons, Servilla? Is it Lord Vulcan?"

"I am afraid that I do not know, Highness." She raised her veil above her head, and tucked back a curl of hair. "After the dragons had hatched, they were sold as commodities in the public markets of Pompeii. Bought by frivolous aristocrats, they were a source of entertainment while they were little creatures who spit sparks of fire. The poor believed them to be favored by the gods, perhaps even a reincarnation of the Greek hero Agamemnon. He was said to wear a blue dragon motif on his sword belt when he fought in battle, and a three-headed dragon on his breast plate."

"Was one of the dragons blue, Servilla?"

"One of them was blue-scaled, another was red-scaled, while another had black scales. When they grew up, all of Rome wanted them dead. They were too big to keep as pets, and were very quick to anger. They breathed fire among those who displeased them, and always wanted large portions of food. Sometimes," she whispered in a menacing tone and reached for the little emperor. "They would snatch young boys playing and eat them up!"

"They would never catch me!" Commodus laughed as he was being tickled. "I would not make them angry."

"After several complaints from the people of Pompeii, Caesar Caligula decided to adopt the dragons himself. He wanted to train them to be his personal weapons. In his mind, the dragons would be strong enough to destroy anyone who dared to stand up against his rule.

They were mighty and could never be killed. They were the strongest creatures in the entire empire! However, the dragons fled the mad emperor. It is unknown where the two of the dragons escaped to, but the bones of one of the dragons were found in the city of Lanuvium, near the sea. His rotting red scales became one with the sand, and his teeth disappeared to the bottom of the ocean."

"How long do dragons live?"

"They are said to be able to live for centuries, Highness. That is, if they do not die in combat."

Despite Commodus adorably protesting for more details about the legendary dragons of Pompeii, asking if they ever had any progeny, and if they ever served another emperor, Servilla gently told Commodus that it was late and a good rest was necessary. She bade him good night and blew out the candles in his chamber.

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"And Servilla said that Emperor Caligula tried to tame them, and they soon escaped after his assassination. Tales of their ferocity were sung in the streets - one of them escaped to Lanuvium!"

Commodus waved his hands about as he retold his governess's stories to the coffin, barely a week he'd heard them himself. It was almost customary for the young emperor to visit the crypts every so often and "talk" to his deceased loved ones as if they were really there. Commodus knelt before the tomb of his brother Annius, not caring for the dust soiling his legs. It had been barely ten days after his eighth nameday, and yet it seemed as if Fate had decided to play a trick upon him…by taking away the last remaining brother he had.

"I swear, 'tis almost as if pre-ordained by the gods! I must ask Father when we go there again - there could even be baby dragons waddling along the beaches. It would be a delight to see."

The young emperor was interrupted by the sound of his name being called, most likely by Lucilla. He murmured a silent prayer to his brother's tomb before picking up a flaming torch to find his way up the stairs. Commodus tip-toed along one hallway, only to be encountered by an intimidating marble statue of the late Emperor Antoninus Pius - Commodus's own maternal grandfather. Dismissing this pathway as a dead end, he turned around and attempted to find another way out.

Suddenly, Commodus tripped over something - he couldn't quite see it well, but it was certainly heavy - and the torch fell from his pale hands. Yet to his surprise, the fire did not seem to hurt him at all, his skin remaining unblemished in the split second when the flames brushed against his arm. No burning sensation of any kind…the fire almost felt like the water from his bath. Comforting, in a strange way.

Perplexed, he grabbed another torch from the wall of the crypt, bringing it closer to the floor. What was it that caused him to trip? It was a chest, with enigmatic engravings all over it.

"Gods…"

With one hand holding the torch and the other fiddling with the lock, Commodus boldly opened the chest. Inside were three eggs - all scaly, yet of different hues - nestled in a bed of straw. One of them was crimson red, with black tips on its scales. The middle one bore a shade of emerald and twitched at the sight of Commodus, while the right-most egg was obsidian-hued with gold tips on its scales. They all seemed to have a few cracks, as if they had already begun to hatch.

Dragon eggs could be hatched in the presence of roaring flames, Servilla told him earlier.

Without much thought, the young emperor set the eggs on fire, dousing all three of them in flames. His green eyes widened with excitement as the eggs fidgeted and the shells continued to crack. After what felt like several enchanting hours, the flames finally subsided and in the place of the eggs, there were three baby dragons surrounded by broken shells.

Commodus knelt before them, extending his left hand as the crimson-colored dragon pecked at his palm. It was almost like playing with the birds in the palace courtyard. He even let himself chuckle as they croaked and breathed little puffs of warm smoke.

"You're so beautiful," he immediately gushed out of admiration for the little beasts. "As the one who brought you to life, I promise to care for you like my own kin." 

Commodus turned to the crimson one, naming it 'Marcus' after his father. With a grin, he decided to call the green dragon 'Commodiana' because it bore the same color as Commodus's own eyes. And as for the obsidian one with flakes of gold, Commodus named it 'Annius' as homage to his late brother.

"Commodus!" His elder sister Lucilla rushed down the stairs and let a shrill cry escape from her lips as soon as she saw where he was. The princess was horrified at the little beasts, immediately asking her brother what he was doing.