Dusk Harbor 1999

The Hangover

He was starting to like this woman. Something about her was simply attractive. Magnetic. Perhaps after the plan was executed he'd try to find her again. The shape of her face and the braided styling of her hair made him remember his wife Sophia. She died around seventeen hundred years ago in childbirth. It still hurt, the pain of her death.

A stronger memory edged it's way to the front of his brain. He could see a small, quiet village. Men and women in robes and togas. He could feel the dirt path beneath his feet. The sensations strengthened. He could smell the mist on the air, hear the conversations between people. He was back in his home village in Rome. His head was pounding and throbbing from an overdose of wine the night before. The bright grey sky made his eyes ache. They burned with fire.

He strolled down the dirt path, along the rows of shops and people selling things at wooden carts. Fruit and tea which smelled divine, and clothes and tapestries. All sorts of things. A trio of blackbirds was circling in the air above a patch of trees behind the stone and wood buildings. It was all exactly how he remembered it.

After walking past many carts and stands he came to the town apothecary. Went right up to his counter and took a deep breath of all the herbs. There were hundreds of herbs hanging all around the stand. He could smell mint and rosemary. Those were the only two he could identify by smell. There were also a few woven bowls on the counter that had dried up fruits in them.

"Greetings to you Felix," Daemon said.

"Greetings Senator Daemon," Felix responded.

Felix had a stone bowl in one hand. A pestle in the other. He was grinding up some odd looking pear-shaped leaves. Grabbed a few sprigs of something hanging in front of him. Tossed it into the bowl. Smashed it up.

"I need something for a headache," Daemon said, "I had a little too much wine last night, and I have a meeting today that I just can not miss."

Felix nodded and set his bowl down.

"So the usual then. Elixir of Sobriety."

He balanced the pestle across the top of the bowl. Waited with his hands over it to make sure it wouldn't roll off. Turned around and checked the labels on his premixed elixirs that came in tiny glass bottles.

His temples pulsed. He put his hands over his eyes and blocked some of the sunlight.

Felix whirled back around and set a small thumb-sized bottle on the counter.

"Should I put this on your never-ending tab?" Felix asked.

"You know me all too well," Daemon replied.

Felix nudged the bottle forward, not bothering to instruct him on how to take it. He knew it quite well. Daemon picked up the bottle and nodded his thanks to the apothecary. Pulled the stopper out. Started walking back down the way from which he came. He raised the bottle to his lips and gulped it down in one go. It tasted awful. Gritty with charcoal, and bitter with herbs.

A slight sweetness came from the couple of drops of honey that the apothecary used to make the elixir drinkable. It made his face scrunch up. Always did, no matter how many times he'd taken it. It was always disgusting.

The ache in his eyes was already beginning to melt away. The sky seemed cooler, the sun fairer, and everything and everyone was quieter. Like he was numb to them all. Someone just ahead called out and waved to him, but it sounded like he was at the other end of the street. His hand moved in slow motion, pushing through the air back and forth.

"Hello," Daemon replied.

The air around his ears popped loudly. Left a ringing in his head.

What in the gods' names is going on? The Elixir of Sobriety never feels like this...

Tingling fire started in his fingertips, and began radiating up through his hands and into his wrists. He glanced up at the sky. The faint blue was turning a light shade of purple. The trio of blackbirds was still circling around the trees behind the buildings on the left-hand side. His eyelids felt weighted like he had to close them.

Maybe I just need some rest. I did drink a lot last night. The Elixir just has to do its job. I'll go take a rest in the shade of the trees.

Warmth crawled up his arms and into his neck and chest. Went up into his face. It felt as if he'd been out in the sun too long. Sun stung. Shade was definitely a good idea. So he shuffled across the street and went between two unmarked buildings. Some sort of beetle buzzed into his face and then zipped up into the sky. Daemon narrowed his eyes at the bug. Cursed its existence.

The path between the buildings was worn and grassy, it led to the edge of the small patch of forest. Great big trees with the greenest leaves he'd ever seen. Thick, dark wood. Some were fruit trees or olive trees. There were plenty of bushes and shrubbery as well. The purple in the sky deepened. A buzzing filled his skull and vibrated in his teeth. Made him cringe. He hated when his teeth ground together.

His knees started shaking beneath him. Legs felt weaker with each step. He took a deep breath and felt a stabbing pain in the center of his chest. Like someone had taken a knife and dug it straight into him and then twisted it around a few times. He let out a short gasp. Put a hand to his chest.

At the edge of the trees, just into the shade, his legs gave out. He met the ground face first, too weak to roll over. Violent fever-like chills rippled through him as his eyes pulled closed. He laid like that for a few moments, panicking. Frozen.

He searched for every last scrap of energy he had within him. Found enough to roll over onto his side. Knew that going onto his back would have been a bad idea. He let out a yell for help, regretting having wandered off. I could die. I could die. I don't want to die.

He yelled out again as loud as he could. His voice broke and then wouldn't work beyond a whisper. All the strength he had was gone. I'm dying! I have a wife! She's carrying my thirteenth child! I have to get up!

His arms and legs were lead weights. No matter how hard he tried he could not get them to budge. It was as if he were trying to lift a boulder. It was physically impossible, and it only exhausted him further.

Come on! For Sophia!

Everything and every sound stopped. All went black as the dead of night, as the wing of a blackbird, as the depths of the darkest abyss. He felt nothing, he heard nothing, he saw nothing, he was nothing.