“I can’t sleep!” I shout to myself so loud the silence responds with an echo coming from the streets. I say this not because I am frustrated that I cannot sleep but because I know that today is a horrible day. I am the last of my race that isn’t dead or forced to battle others from my kin. This is not a blessing; I am a free 19-year-old man because I was a coward 14 years ago. A while ago, there was a sub-race of humans, that I belong to, called Vocatio Dei. This name loosely translates to summoning of a god. Our race has this name because when a person belonging to them turns 20 years of age they possess the ability to summon elemental creatures I can describe as titan like. Our race lived just outside of Pompeii in their own village. They
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We were never able to trade or purchase items from the market without being run out. It was not until one day a few of our members, including my father, in 79 A.D used their titans to cause a volcanic eruption in Mount Vesuvius. This was the scariest moment in my life because even when I was five my father made me tag along. The lava flow destroyed and turned everything including people into stone figures. Their plan was out of pure anger and ill-advised because our village was destroyed with no one dead. However, what followed was much worse. Our people fled to Rome knowing they could not just make a new home out of nothing. When we arrived, word had already traveled by sea and we were greeted with militant forces sent to capture us. They are aware that steel in the joints and iron will disrupt the elemental energy holding the titans together and iron on our hands and feet somehow stops them from being summoned. My father made me hide knowing that they would not be able to tell I was not human until I was 20. My family members were separated, and once a year forced to fight each other to the death little by little. The coliseum was opened in 80A.D just for this
We were never able to trade or purchase items from the market without being run out. It was not until one day a few of our members, including my father, in 79 A.D used their titans to cause a volcanic eruption in Mount Vesuvius. This was the scariest moment in my life because even when I was five my father made me tag along. The lava flow destroyed and turned everything including people into stone figures. Their plan was out of pure anger and ill-advised because our village was destroyed with no one dead. However, what followed was much worse. Our people fled to Rome knowing they could not just make a new home out of nothing. When we arrived, word had already traveled by sea and we were greeted with militant forces sent to capture us. They are aware that steel in the joints and iron will disrupt the elemental energy holding the titans together and iron on our hands and feet somehow stops them from being summoned. My father made me hide knowing that they would not be able to tell I was not human until I was 20. My family members were separated, and once a year forced to fight each other to the death little by little. The coliseum was opened in 80A.D just for this