Miniature Miniatures

-Chapter Three-

     With prompting, Octavius was able to remember everything up to his head hitting the floor.

     Both miniatures were looked over, as well as the tablet, and anything else that may have been affected. All three leaders were given a second chance at discussion. Soon, everything went back to normal.

     Or, so they thought.

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     Three weeks after the incident, Octavius began to feel ill. He didn't think much of this: perhaps he hasn't been burning proper offerings to Asclepius.

      He continued with his daily routine regardless. If his men noticed more ash in Asclepius' temple altar, they never said anything.

     Four and a half weeks after the incident, he stood where he often did when training his army in militant commands: the southern platform.

     His lightheadedness began thirty minutes into training. He chose to ignore it.

     "ЯΣDI!"

     His heart began to beat too fast.

     "PΛЯΛƬI!"

     His heart began to beat too slow.

     "PΣЯᄃЦƬI!"

     His world went black, and he felt gravity weigh his bones.

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     "The praetor!"

     "Ubi est dilectus eius?"

     "...do we still charge or..."

     It was then Jedidiah decided to climb up the rope. He was greeted with complete unbridled chaos. He thought this was odd, as Octavius' men never seemed anything but put together, but he figured everyone had an off day now and again.

     "'Scuse me," Jed addressed a soldier, "You seen-" Screaming erupted from nearby, and his soldier took off.

     "Hey there," he tried again, "Where's-" the solider walked away.

     Deciding that he's had enough, he sticks his fingers in his mouth and lets out a sharp whistle. Silence followed.

     "I don't know what's got y'all riled up like a June bug in July, but this dog won't hunt!"

     Confused muttering in both English and Latin cycled the ranks.

     "Basically: calm down," he took a breath, "Okay. Done screaming? Good. Y'all seen Octy today? 'E's late for our daily drive."

     Nervous muttering broke out among soldiers, and slowly, a path opened, Roman troops parting like the Red Sea.

     Jed ambled along the new walkway. It widened and lengthened as he went. Eventually, the thickest area of people moved, and an unconscious Roman was revealed on the ground. Jed squinted. An unconscious Roman?

     His unconscious Roman!

He ran over to Octavius, gently shaking the man. It was a relief when the general's eyes fluttered open.

"Jedidiah? Cur sum..." Octavius sat up slowly, holding his head in his hand, "Why am I on the ground?"

"I was hoping you'd be able to tell me that, compadre," he helped his friend up, "Came over here to yer man actin' nuttier than a five pound fruit cake. Turn 'round and yer lookin' like a rabbit after a pounda whiskey."

"I... do not feel well,"

"I coulda told ya that. Look like yer gonna keel over. Do I needa carry you downta the car? Cuz' we're gonna go see Ahk, an' no, that's not negotiable."

Octavius offered a weak laugh. "I do not think you could carry me, but thank you for offering," He turned to yell across to one of his men, "Mateo, exerce dum ego absim, redibo!"

A faint "Licuit!" could be heard in response.

"Okay. Let's go visit the giants."