"I've never seen so many people gathered together in one place before in my life!" Viviane marvelled as she and Merlin walked through Rome's busy streets. "And the streets are all paved, too!"
No matter where she looked, there were humans. Street vendors hawking their wares in their stalls on the pavement, ox-drawn carts blocking the circulation, people going about their day, the cohortes urbanae patrolling the streets… so many humans!
"Now, if only they could do something about the smell," Viviane said, wrinkling her nose. "Ugh, shoo! These flies keep buzzing in my ears!"
Bzz, bzz… the flies just wouldn't give their buzzing a rest.
"Perhaps you should heed their warning," Merlin said mildly.
Whether Viviane didn't hear his words or simply ignored them, she gave no indication, continuing to swat at the air as she glanced at the tall building to her left. The stench of dung wafting towards them was horse manure; they were downwind from the nearby hippodrome, the Circus Maximus. From the sounds of cheering and the vibrations coming from the ground, a horse race was clearly underway.
"Where are we going?" Viviane asked as they walked across the plaza in front of the circus and straight past it. "Are we going to see this mysterious person you've been telling me about, or this wandmaker of yours?"
"Wandmaker first," Merlin said casually. "Seeing him will take some time, so it's the first thing to get off our list."
Viviane scowled at him.
Was there much more to this mysterious list, or would they be heading back to Britannia any time soon? In any case, there was no stopping Merlin, and so they continued forging onwards to the city centre, where the density of the human population was somehow even greater.
Along the way, Viviane began noticing that a concerning number of humans standing on wooden scaffolds at the side of the road were completely naked. Not all were chained; some men had clearly been slathered in oil, making their rippling muscles shine in the sun, and some women were caked in make-up… but they all had something in common; each bore a look of quiet resignation.
Others on the scaffolds, dressed in fine clothes rather than naked, often shouted at passersby in Latin, which Viviane couldn't understand. What she did understand, however, was what the naked humans were: slaves. The Saxons, the Danes and the Swedes raided the coasts of Brittany often enough, kidnapping peasants and razing their farms and villages to the ground.
"Tch, humans," Viviane muttered to herself. "…oof!"
Without warning, Merlin suddenly stopped, and Viviane ran into his back with a whump.
"We're here," he said simply.
Viviane looked over his shoulder. A long line of people stretched around the neighbourhood… and they were at the very end of it. Apparently, this Oleander person was very in demand. Viviane opened her Mystic Eyes and scanned the people waiting in line. The vast majority of them were Muggles, but a few of the humans had a magical quality to their aura.
"What use could a Muggle possibly have for a wand?" Viviane asked. "Magical foci won't do them any good if they've no magic to focus in the first place."
"In the Roman Empire, wandmakers double as Wizard identifiers, since wands won't react to a Muggle's touch," Merlin explained. "Wizards are highly respected in society, so many down-on-their-luck people gather each day around wandmakers' shops to have their aptitudes tested. For a nominal fee, an unused wand is presented to the candidates, and if no magical reaction occurs, they are sent away."
If a magical reaction did occur, the candidate would become a customer, and Oleander would help them find a wand that suited them. The testing wand would then be swapped out for a fresh one, as the previous candidate's residual magic could falsify the results for the next.
As Wizards and Witches were quite rare but highly sought after for their skills, many would attend these tryouts in the hopes of changing their lives overnight. In this age, many who possessed magic might go their entire lives without realising their true potential.
In any case, it was a win-win for everyone: the wandmakers made extra money, the empire collected taxes on that money, and new Wizards were identified. It was a systematic and well-organised process that had transformed the Roman Empire into a magical superpower; as expected of Roman efficiency.
"Can't you use magic to skip the line?" Viviane asked in dismay. "At this rate, we'll be here for days!"
"I suppose I could, but as powerful as I am, even I would find it troublesome to fight off an entire city and a legion of elite Wizards at once," Merlin said helplessly. "We're not from here, so the best thing we can do is keep our heads down and follow the rules."
Viviane noted that Merlin had said it would be troublesome, not impossible. In her Mystic Sight, his aura shone like a thousand exploding suns, so in her opinion, he was easily capable of razing the entire city to the ground— Wizards, the emperor, and all. It was just that he wouldn't be able to get what he wanted if he did, that was all.
…
Time passed. The sun was now directly overhead, and the heat was sweltering. Viviane's alabaster skin was not equipped to handle the sun's rays; she was getting thirsty, and her feet ached. Perhaps having those salted nuts for a snack earlier hadn't been the best idea, in hindsight.
"I'm going to find some shade to sit under," Viviane said, licking her parched lips. "I'll leave standing in line to you, if that's okay…"
"Don't stray too far from me," Merlin cautioned her. "Rome is safe, but it's not that safe."
Viviane rolled her eyes and tottered away. She followed the line curiously, trying to gauge mentally whether they would reach the end by sunset, until she found herself standing in front of a large mansion with Greek-style marble columns, where the line ended.
A large sign hung above the entrance.
"OLEANDER," Viviane read out loud. "FABRICATORES BACULORUM PRAESTANTIUM AB URBE CONDITA CCCLXXII."
CCCLXXII— that counted up to 372, Viviane knew that much. So, according to the Romans' calendar… Oleander, purveyor of fine wands, opened in the 372nd year of Rome's founding? Or something along those lines?
The current year was 1219 ab urbe condita (466 AD), which meant Oleander's had already been in business for eight hundred and forty-seven years!
"Oi!" Viviane said crossly, as a street urchin bumped into her. "Watch where you're going!"
The child hurried away and darted into a side alley, leaving Viviane with the lingering feeling that she had been tricked. She patted herself down, and…
"My pouch is gone!" she blurted out, before breaking out into a sprint. "Come back here, you sneak thief!"