I Am His Son

Please ignore chronology errors and inaccurate historical descriptions. They are to increase the plot of the story and to make sure it works correctly. My apologies for Latin words that you do not understand.



My name is Marcus Antonius Antyllus, and I am the son of Marcus Antonius, also known as Mark Antony, Imperator, Consul, and General of the Roman Republic, and, ultimately, the death of it. This is my story, my pater’s story, and the story of the last days of the Republic.



My delivery was easy on my mother and was pronounced as an omen for the rest of my life, that it would be peaceful and easy. Whenever I think about this, I either shake my head, laugh, or sigh. For my life afterward was dark and dreadful. 

When I went to school, people acted as if I was their phaedra and master, as my father was one of the most powerful men in the Roman Republic, but I wanted to be treated as a common person, alongside with everyone else in Rome. But my parentage made it so that everyone treated me like I was highest lord, even above Jupiter! (Okay, not that much, actually.) I always got perfect gradus (grades), even when I knew that I had done terribly. I knew the teacher was just trying to curry favor from my father when he rose higher in the ranks, as everyone knew he would attain the consulship soon. 

Everyone expected me to live up to my father’s reputation, but it seemed like an impossible quest. My pater was simply too great, while my mater was Octavia the Younger, the sister of Caesar Octavianus, one of the members of the Second Triumvirate! I had no hope of reaching as high as he did…or so I thought. 

I was never bullied, and when I wanted, the mean kids stopped their, ah…business, and came to kowtow to my every word. I didn’t like it, but if it saved or helped other people, I would do it. 



Once I was 16, I signed up to join the army. The consuls were still fighting Sertorius and his men, the vappae, but they were making little progress, as every time Sertorius was defeated, he just rebuilt his army and tried again. Also, he won A LOT. So, when I signed up, after training, they sent me with a pro-praetor’s army to Spain, where Sertorius was holed up. However, Sertorius was percussitque before the army even got to Spain, so that attempt at military action was a disaster. 

Later, I was assigned to fight against the Egyptians with my father. We were fighting to restore the former pharoah, Ptolemy Auletes, to his proper post as ruler and benefactor. My father performed many great feats while I was in his comitatus. He took Pelusium and persuaded his praeceptorem to spare it, while later inflicting great defeats on the rebellious Egyptians and their usurpatio pharoah. Soon after, we captured Alexandria and Memphis.

Later, I went with Caesar’s army and attacked Gaul. This gave me great experience against barbari, as we fought the Gauls repeatedly. I took part in two invasions of Britain, in which we defeated Cassivelaunus, a Celtic tribe leader. I personally killed a magna warrior while he was penetrating the line. Eventually, I became a military tribune, and I retained this post in Marcus Licinius Crassus’s army.



Later, the “richest man in Rome,” Marcus Crassus, came through Cisalpine Gaul with his army, looking for recruits to further shore up his legions. He was jealous of his fellows in the Triumvirate, and wanted to outshine them with a great military exploit. He was bringing 20,000 men to attack the Parthian Empire. I joined as a tribune, we picked up our bags, and went off.

At first, everything went well. The sailing trip to Tyre was easy, with calm seas and no squalls. However, soon after we landed, Crassus picked up a barbarian dux. And, as all true Romans know, barbari are finicky and notandum levitum. They cannot be trusted. However, our “great leader” in his “magnanimis wisdom” decided to let this evil man guide us. And he led us straight into Death’s hands, down into Pluto’s realm.

You see, this man wasn’t bad from the start. I’m guessing that in the middle of the journey he was bribed by a Parthian agent, as that was when he began leading us in the wrong direction, into the desert. And Crassus still kept trusting him, while the whole army was running out of water. And then, on the open plains…we were surrounded by thousands of horsemen, coming out of nowhere. Crassus attempted to extend our line, but it was already far too late, and a few opening shots were coming from the enemy’s horse archers. We collected into a testudo formatio.

Ibi salve, quid agis.Venisti perdere nos tibi levium spectacula et viribus,” called out our guide, who had suddenly appeared with the Parthian forces.

“Traitor! Hae vires populi Romani decus!”roared Crassus, but anyone could see that the army was wavering.

“Really? You won’t be calling anyone a traitor–not when you’re dead.”jeered the leader. He yelled “AAAAAAATTTTTTAAAAACCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!”

The cataphract cavalry charged, while the bowmen fired such a huge volley it actually got through the testudo. 

No one from the battle can tell you what happened next. Mostly because almost all are dead, but as for the survivors, like me, it is just impossible.

The cataphracts crashed into our line clanged into us. I saw a lance spear three people right next to me. I turned and pushed my way through the line, so scared I could hardly think. I ran through our lines, threw my pilum at a cataphract (which did nothing) and ran straight for our camp. 

I joined up with about two hundred frightened legionaries and told them that the rest of the army was going to die, and we needed to leave. They all were instantly persuaded.

We ran for it. 

Thankfully, no one noticed us, and we continued on our journey. After two days of wandering around in the mountains, we finally came to a city–Antioch. The inhabitants cheered as we came up to the walls, imagining news of a great victory. They were not expecting what we gave them.


The End


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