Letter 6

This is the second-earliest chronological letter we have from Tacitus, written in 335 YBCE, roughly one week after the death of Emperor Constantinus and four days after Lady Julia’s crowning as Emperor, which was 22 MoE 419 EY. This letter details Tacitus’ thoughts and opinions of the day that Julia became ruler of all of Britannia. Throughout, he seems to have many concerns, doubts, and hopes for the young Emperor.

- E. Celestina

Even though she was my peer and equal only weeks ago, Julia was standing above me and all of our friends and comrades then. The golden laurel that she held upon her head did not feel real to me, nor did the imperial stola or the chalice that she raised toward the crowd of thousands that day. I was simply just another person in that crowd, same as Cassian and Marcus and all of the others. She stood steps and shoulders above all of Exetia, and her words were as poignant and sharp as the words she gave me when we debated within the gardens. In fact, I could remember it nearly verbatim.

“My father is gone. I am not afraid to admit to you all I wept tears. No princeps should be denied of their humanity, so I confess this to you: within my heart right now is rage. Not rage at his absence or of him, but rage that I was denied more years with him. Thus, this is my first and only decree of this day: I will slay the one they call ‘Gomorrah’, the dragon that took his life, as repayment to Exetia, to my mother, and to me. If you desire to march with me, we leave in one week’s time.”

She left the crowd with that, and thus their applause was lukewarm. Her introduction was not cheerful and hopeful like her father’s allegedly was, nor was it empowering and emblazoning like her father’s father. It was that of one young woman’s quiet wrath, and I could feel the effects it had on the Exetian people. As I looked around, I knew some were doubtful or uncertain of the new princeps’ path. And if I must be curt, I harbor my reservations as well.

Perhaps I will give this journal and letter to her one day, and perhaps I will not, but Lady Julia, do be careful from hereon forward. Perhaps I and the 33 others who have followed you for years may understand and sympathize with your anger, but the minds of millions across not just Exeter, but all of Britannia, may not. They knew you as the innocent young daughter of the joyful princeps; and in one afternoon’s short speech, I am afraid much of that positive goodwill has been undone. History has not been kind to women, especially those who ought to stand at the zenith of power. I do not speak this with discrimination, but rather truth.

Yet still, we are preparing for you. You had decreed me, me of all people, as your second-in-command. To be Tribune at just fifteen is an honor that I am unsure I could carry, but your eyes told me that I had such strength even if I do not know it yet. I will trust your judgment as princeps. We set off in two days’ time, just as you had decreed, and as I am writing this, I have finished organizing the legion’s arms, supplies, and foodstuffs for the journey north.

I only hope the rage in your eyes can be quelled when the beast called Gomorrah falls.