Right off, I think it's important for me to state that I am in no way shape or form a historian. Almost all my knowledge is gleaned from books and other reference materials. Therefore, if I've made mistakes as far a chronology or details are concerned, take into account I'm muddling through the best I can, and none of the mistakes are intentional.
~Bamfy
There was screaming and acrid smoke billowed into the air, choking her. She scrambled from the house and down the stone street trying to escape, but The Guard caught up with her. The man on horse-back grabbed her long brown hair and yanked her head back savagely. He paused for a moment to stare into her wide, frightened eyes before slitting her throat and flinging her body into the street. The last thing her dying ears heard was the sound of hove beats as he galloped away.
She awoke in a cold sweat and glanced around the room in a panic. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a gulp of air. No horsemen here. No cries of the wounded and dying. That was all past. This was now, this was her small barren apartment. Livia was safe. Safe, except from the dreams. The nightmares of her death.