Old Soul Syndrome |ONC 2020|

Midsummer, 53 BC

The sun had just peeked over the horizon by the time we slipped through the gates. The Via Appia wound south, the shadows still deep around the tombs of the rich. We slunk around the gravemarkers, sneaking past the sleeping whores and thieves that sheltered near the rectangular tombs.

Once we had left the last of the dead behind, Damianus pulled me into a run. We cut across fields and edged around still-sleepy farms. I tried to keep up, but eventually I couldn't sustain the pace.

We stopped in a small grove of cypress and oak trees. I dropped to my hands and knees, chest heaving as I gasped for breath. Damianus paced a circle around me—his breathing fast but still steady—peering warily through the trees. 

"I'm sorry," I gasped, the stitch in my side burning like fire. "Just—give a—moment to—rest."

"It's fine," he said. "We shouldn't move during the day, anyway."

I nodded, my mouth sticky and dry. When my breathing wasn't quite so ragged, I looked up in time to find him watching me with a strange, disbelieving expression on his face.

When he noticed me watching him, he offered a wry smile. "I had started to lose hope."

I frowned, not understanding. Damianus shook his head and came to sit beside me, leaning his back against one of the trees. His hand moved unconsciously toward the bruise on his chest. In the morning light, it looked terrible—a motley swirl of red, plum-purple and near-black.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, unwrapping the meager rations I had been able to steal.

My stomach was still churning from the events back at the domus. I shook my head, and gestured for him to eat. He must have been hungry after everything. Damianus frowned at me but ate a little of the bread and cheese before he leaned his head back against the tree trunk, closing his eyes.

I spent a few more moments watching him. Sunlight dappled his skin and hair, a bead of sweat slipped down from his temple, another tracing toward the hollow of his throat. The air was beginning to grow warm. Exhausted, I lay down on the ground, closing my eyes, my muscles groaning.

"You can sleep," he murmured. "I'll keep you safe."

I frowned slightly, my eyes still closed. Safe. I wasn't even sure what that really meant. I had no concept of safe.

Opening my eyes, I found Damianus staring at me again. He started slightly and looked through the trees, a guilty expression on his face. His throat bobbed and he tugged the knife from his belt, beginning to flip it in the air.

Slowly, I pressed myself up into a sitting position. I wrapped my arms around my shins, resting my chin on my knees. I wanted to rest. My eyes were gritty with lack of sleep and my mind was fuzzy, but I couldn't rest. Not yet.

"Why?"

The whispered word hung in the still air of the grove. Damianus looked back at me, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. I swallowed hard against the lump in my throat and managed to raise my voice. "You could have run by yourself. You didn't need to...to do what you did."

The dagger landed in his hand, but he didn't flip it again. Instead, a pained expression crossed his face and he pushed away from the tree, moving to where he was crouching in front of me. I didn't mean to flinch away when he raised a hand to touch my cheek, but couldn't stop myself. Something dark flashed in the depths of his eyes as he lowered his hand without touching me.

"It shouldn't surprise me," he said softly. "It shouldn't, but it still hurts. The fact that I know so much and you so little."

I leaned back a little, unease stirring deep in my chest.

"Do you truly not know why?" he whispered. "Do you not understand why I had to kill that bastard?"

That feeling of unease bubbled closer to panic and I shot to my feet, retreating from him. Damianus bowed his head, body shifting with a heavy sigh. He uncoiled gracefully to his feet, swords rattling, but he didn't come any closer.

Instead, he went back to the tree and sat down again.

"It doesn't matter," he said, closing his eyes. "You're here now. That is the important thing."

"I don't...I don't understand," I managed.

He smiled. "You rarely do. Usually it's just a matter of time. But sometimes you never remember anything. Which makes it overwhelming when I love you with centuries' worth of memory. I'm always afraid of those."

My head began to ache, my chest tightening.

"Do you remember the war with Carthage," he asked. "How furious you were with me for joining Scipio's legion." He smiled. "Or Sparta, the night before I marched with the three hundred. Or Egypt? When you took pity on a thirsty soldier of Alexander's?"

My knees gave and I collapsed, pain lancing through my temple so sharply that my vision turned white.

"Abelia!"

His body braced mine, keeping me from falling sideways. My heart pounded unsteadily, so hard it felt like it was bruising the backs of my ribs. I shuddered when his fingers ran through my hair.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against the top of my head. "I'm so sorry. Forgive me for my impatience. I would never mean to hurt you. I hope you can believe that much, if you can't understand the rest."

I shuddered, my head still throbbing. I opened my eyes, but my vision swam so badly I nearly threw up. 

Damianus swore, his arms tightening around me. I couldn't even focus enough to push him away. I clutched at my head, trying to keep my skull from splitting apart.

"Abelia?" he said, his worried voice echoing in my head, bouncing around and multiplying.

I lurched away from him and retched, my empty stomach contracting against my spine. His warm hands chaffed my back, fingers sweeping my hair away from my face. I didn't want him to touch me, but couldn't speak as my body revolted against me.

"Gods forgive me," he breathed, sounding horrified. His hand stroked down my spine again. "Calm, Abelia. Just breathe." His head rested against my shoulder. "Forgive me. Forgive me."

I spat, trying to clear the acidic taste of bile from my mouth, then turned into him. Damianus looked down at me, his face pale and scared.

I'm not sure what I meant to say to him. When I opened my mouth, pain exploded in my head, so fierce I nearly retched again. Damianus called my name again, but his voice was strangely warped and distant. Blackness stole my vision away and I slumped forward, all my muscles going limp.

The last thing I remembered was lips pressing against my temple.