📖 The Immortal Gazette: Cannae – The Perfect Encirclement
The studio of the Immortal Gazette had a distinct air of intrigue this evening. Alice was perched on her usual chair, one leg casually draped over the armrest, a cup of tea balanced perfectly in her hand. Loki, as always, lounged nearby, exuding his usual aura of relaxed menace, and Rumplestiltskin? Well, he was pacing again, clearly lost in thought as he gazed at a map of the Battle of Cannae—one of history's most legendary battles. The tension in the air was palpable, like something big was about to go down.
"Now, Cannae," Rumplestiltskin began, his voice rich with dark amusement, "is the perfect example of military genius. Hannibal Barca. A genius, and a madman." He stopped pacing, smirking down at the map. "The Romans thought they had it all figured out. A massive, well-equipped army facing off against Hannibal’s forces. But then—bam—Hannibal outflanked them. Encircled them. Took out twice the number of men." He let out a satisfied sigh. "And all without a single dramatic flair."
Alice sipped her tea, raising an eyebrow. "No dramatic flair? Please, Rumple. If there’s anything you love more than a good deal, it’s a touch of theatrical flair." Her voice was laced with sarcasm. "You telling me Hannibal didn't make a show of it all? If I know anything about strategy—"
"—You know everything about strategy, Alice," Loki interrupted with a grin. "You’re practically an expert in chaos."
Alice shot him a deadpan look. "No one asked you, Loki." Then she turned back to Rumplestiltskin. "So, what’s your angle here? Smoke and mirrors? A huge illusion to make the Romans think they were facing a monster of an army? A little firework display to add to the legend?"
Rumplestiltskin’s eyes gleamed, and a wicked grin spread across his face. "Now you’re getting it. Let’s be honest—history doesn’t always do justice to real brilliance. So, picture this: Hannibal, with his puny little force, lures the Romans into a trap. But instead of just outflanking them with sheer military genius—" He paused, drawing a deep breath for dramatic effect. "—He makes it glorious. The smoke billows in from the hills, obscuring the sun, creating an illusion of massive reinforcements. The Romans, seeing their own numbers decimated, think they’re facing a new wave of attackers. They panic. They crumble."
Loki snorted. "Oh, for the love of chaos, Rumple. You’ve just turned a military strategy into an opera."
"Exactly!" Rumplestiltskin replied with a flourish. "It’s about the legend, Loki. The Romans didn’t just lose that day—they lost to magic. To a master of illusions. Hannibal’s army? Oh, it was the perfect trap, all right. But we could have had a little extra flair to make sure the story lives forever."
Alice raised her cup again, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "Oh, sure, adding some smoke and mirrors would’ve been nice, but I think Hannibal didn’t need all that flash to make his point. It was the brilliance of the encirclement. He used the landscape, he used his knowledge of his enemy’s arrogance... And let’s face it, the Romans were too cocky for their own good. They assumed a big, dumb army could win the day. But then, boom, Hannibal turned the entire battlefield into a trap." She set the cup down with a soft clink. "And, of course, the Romans didn’t see it coming. Their arrogance led them straight into a massacre."
"She’s not wrong," Loki chimed in, leaning forward with interest. "Hannibal’s strategy was all about playing to the Romans’ pride—they thought they had the upper hand because of their sheer numbers. But Hannibal? He knew their weaknesses. He used the terrain like an artist, weaving his men into a trap that was impossible to escape."
Rumplestiltskin smirked. "Yes, yes, the classic outflanking move. But we’re talking about dramatic flair here. Picture the scene. The Romans are overconfident, thinking they’ve cornered Hannibal’s forces. They assume they’re going to win. But then—poof—the smoke rolls in, the sun disappears, and the Romans are surrounded, unsure of who’s attacking them. It wasn’t just a military victory—it was a mystical defeat. They fell apart under the pressure. A bit of psychological warfare, a touch of illusion—"
Alice interrupted him, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. "Ah yes, because nothing says legendary military victory like a bit of misdirection and a dramatic smoke screen. You know, Rumple, maybe you should write a new chapter for the history books. I can already see the title: Hannibal and the Disappearing Army—A Trickster’s Triumph."
Rumplestiltskin threw his hands up in mock exasperation. "What? It worked for me when I was at my best. Why shouldn’t Hannibal get the credit for it?"
Loki let out a low laugh. "All I’m saying is that Hannibal didn’t need magic or illusion—he needed tactical brilliance and the ability to understand his enemy. The Romans were dumb enough to fall into his trap without any need for theatrics." He leaned back, grinning wickedly. "And that’s why the real genius was in the execution of the encirclement. The Romans were surrounded by a smaller force—and they didn’t even see it until it was too late."
Alice nodded slowly, her dark eyes gleaming with an understanding that spoke volumes. "Exactly. It was about control. Hannibal controlled the battlefield, controlled the psychology of the fight. He made the Romans feel trapped, hopeless. It wasn’t just military might; it was mastery of human nature. And that, my friends, is where true genius lies."
Rumplestiltskin sighed dramatically, though his grin never wavered. "Fine, fine. No smoke, no mirrors. But imagine how much more fun it would’ve been if there had been a little extra sparkle."
Alice rolled her eyes. "Always with the sparkle, Rumple."
"Hey, it works for me!" he retorted, giving her a wink. "But for now, I’ll concede. The Romans lost that day not because they were outnumbered, but because they were outsmarted. And that’s the beauty of Cannae—brains over brawn."
Loki leaned forward, a mischievous glint in his eye. "And for all the pomp and circumstance, no one ever really remembers how much luck played into the battle, do they?"
Alice grinned. "Of course not. That would ruin the romance of the story. But honestly, luck’s just another word for being in the right place at the right time with the right people—and knowing exactly how to exploit your enemy’s pride. That’s what Hannibal did best."
Rumplestiltskin gave a satisfied nod, clearly enjoying the conversation. "Yes, yes, I do love a good story. And Hannibal’s story is one for the ages."
"Without the smoke and mirrors, though," Alice said with a sly smirk.
"Without the smoke and mirrors," Rumplestiltskin agreed with a chuckle, leaning back in his chair.
Loki raised an eyebrow. "Well, I suppose a little drama never hurt anyone... as long as it’s done right."
And as the conversation carried on, the trio of immortals—each of them brilliant in their own way—continued to dissect the Battle of Cannae. But in the end, they all agreed on one thing: whether it was smoke, mirrors, or pure tactical genius, Hannibal’s victory would always be remembered as one of the most cunning military triumphs in history.
