Target Selection and Strategy
Darian's target was the massive Roman coastal granaries located north of Alexandria. They were guarded by professional legionaries and were the final collection point before the grain was shipped to feed Rome's vast population. Hitting it would send a political earthquake across the Mediterranean.
He gathered his leadership: Ashara, the cool-headed tactician of the Akkadian, and Horem, the fiercest of the former miners, now a grim-faced captain of the mountain contingent.
"The defenses are strong, a traditional Roman square," Darian explained, tracing lines on the sand with a stick. "They expect a frontal assault by local bandits. They do not expect a coordinated force."
Darian outlined the plan, a meticulous three-pronged attack designed to maximize fear and minimize bloodshed:
1. Ashara's Diversion: The Akkadian would attack the far perimeter at dusk, using the fading light and their knowledge of the coastal caves to draw the main Roman garrison away from the warehouses.
2. Horem's Force: The miners, now armed with Roman steel and fueled by hatred, would use tunnels and hidden pathways they once used as laborers to penetrate the core area near the grain stacks. Their job was not to fight, but to incite chaos.
3. Darian's Gambit: Darian would move through the shadows created by the diversion, using his magic to disable the command tower and, crucially, to make a clear, unforgettable statement about the source of the attack.
"We do not kill needlessly," Darian commanded, his voice cold. "We burn only the food. We hit the stomach of Rome. We leave the Emperor's people hungry, and his Senators frightened."
The Attack
The attack began with a calculated fury. As the sun dipped below the horizon, bathing the coast in blood-orange light, Ashara's contingent launched their diversion. Arrows rained down on the western wall, followed by coordinated, rapid strikes that pulled the main cohort of legionaries into a tense battle far from the storage units.
Horem and the miners surged from the ground like angry ghosts, cutting the throats of sentries and igniting small fires among the less valuable supply tents. Chaos reigned. The Roman defenders were scattered, confused by attacks coming from two disparate directions.
Darian moved through the confusion, his bare feet silent on the cobblestones. His focus was the central command tower. He reached inward, past the pain, drawing on the disciplined, cold resolve he had learned from Malik. The shadows obeyed. They coalesced into a thick, absolute blackness that engulfed the tower, blinding the officers inside. He then used his physical strength, enhanced by a rush of magic, to tear the heavy lock from the main grain warehouse door.
He did not waste time with torches. He drew his power deep, focusing the volatile, hungry energy of the shadows into a surge of destructive, cold heat. He slammed his hand against the towering sacks of grain. The magic didn't burn it like a flame; it ignited it from within—a deep, chemical combustion that made the grain stacks smolder and explode with unnatural speed.
Before the heat and smoke drove him back, Darian reached into the spreading firelight and used his shadow magic to carve a single, unmistakable mark onto the main warehouse wall: The Ankh of Khonsu. A clear message that the rebellion was led by something ancient, Egyptian, and terrifyingly magical.
The destruction was absolute. The massive granaries became an inferno, a towering beacon of defiance visible for miles. The mission was a success. Darian and his forces vanished into the night, leaving behind a ruined Roman supply chain and a terrifying mystery.
The Roman Response
The news hit Alexandria like a physical wave, shaking the foundations of Roman power. The loss was unprecedented, not just in volume, but in its political impact. The grain shipment was essential. Riots broke out among the city's poor, and the Senate exploded in panic.
In his opulent villa, Senator Valerius raged, the destruction of his livelihood finally proving Darian's true danger. But Valerius was politically crippled, his authority diminished by the string of defeats. The Senate demanded a competent, ruthless hand to stop the tide.
The task fell to the only man in Alexandria who understood Darian: Aurelian.
Aurelian was brought from his self-imposed, heartbroken house arrest. He was pale, thinner, and his eyes still carried the vacant, haunted look of a man who had lost everything. But the sight of the dispatch detailing the Ankh of Khonsu carved into the burning wall seemed to spark a painful clarity in him. He knew the source. He knew the mind behind the attack.
Aurelian stood before his father, not as a penitent son, but as a general accepting a desperate war commission.
"You understand this man, Aurelian," his father, Valerius, spat, desperation overriding his pride. "He has humiliated us. The Senate demands his head. They demand an end to this shadow war."
Aurelian merely looked at the dispatch, his expression unreadable. He had betrayed Darian to save himself, but now, only Darian's destruction could restore his honor. It was a cruel irony. The man he loved and betrayed was the only thing that could make him relevant again.
"I will hunt him," Aurelian said, his voice cold and steady, the grief pushed down, replaced by a terrible resolve. "I will bring him back to Rome, father. But I will not send legions into the desert. Darian does not fight with steel, he fights with ideas and fear. He fights with shadows. I will meet him on his own ground."
The hunter was now fully engaged, but Darian's game had changed Aurelian forever. The confrontation was now inevitable.
This finishes the setup for the next major movement: the direct conflict between Darian (the revolutionary) and Aurelian (the desperate hunter).