The golden escalators begin to carry a Roman procession up the grassy hill. At its head walks a stern middle-aged man in a white-bordered toga, lean-faced and wiry, with weathered olive skin and a narrow scar across one cheek, his close-cropped hair silvering at the temples and a wax tablet tucked beneath one arm.
Behind him, robed clerks and armed attendants climb in ordered silence. Beneath the temple columns, Ares remains near Aphrodite, while the Temple Residents gather behind his broad shadow.
The official reaches the marble floor and breaks the decree’s wax seal. He unrolls the document before Aphrodite, its stamped authority catching the golden light.
Lucius Varro
I am Lucius Varro, appointed magistrate of this district. By decree of civic authority, this hill and temple are placed under Roman administration.
A murmur passes through the Temple Residents. Several clutch silk and fruit close to themselves, but none steps away from Ares as the decree hangs between mortal law and divine protection.
Ares
Paper bears the seal of men. It does not erase the hand of a goddess from her own sanctuary.
Lucius Varro
Then let the goddess answer before Rome decides whether her protection outranks its law.
Affirm the temple’s sacred protection before Rome