To see the previous installments, click on the following links: #1, #2 , #3, #4, #5, #6, #7, #8, #9, #10, #11, #12, #13, #14, #15, #16, #17, #18
As I finished writing the report to the duoviri, the quill pen trembled slightly in my hand. The verdict was clear: Marcus’s son, in his disturbed state of mind, had caused Lucius’s death. And yet, deep inside me, I felt that the word ‘murder’ did not do justice to what had happened. It was an accident, a misfortune brought about by a mind that no longer distinguished reality from imagined danger. The young man, believing that he was protecting himself and his stepmother, had acted without thinking, a prey to his hallucinations.
As I sealed the parchment with my signature, a soft presence was felt at my side. I looked up and there she was, Aemilia, her face covered with a light layer of concern. She was watching me with those dark eyes that seemed to see beyond appearances.
”What are you doing, Hispanus?” She asked softly, leaning slightly towards the parchment he had just written.
The warmth in his voice, so different from the coldness of the words I had just written, jolted me. I could not help but smile warmly at her, though the weight of the task still gripped my mind.
”I'm finishing my report to the duoviri.” I paused for a moment, put the pen aside and looked at her. “A document that, if all goes as I hope, will allow me to buy your freedom.”
The slave, surprised, blinked. Her clasped hands tightened and a restrained emotion flooded her face.
”I... could I be free?” Her voice trembled, as if she feared that hope might vanish into thin air.
I nodded, and suddenly all the shadows that had accompanied me these past few days seemed to dissipate at the mere possibility of a future with her.
”Yes, and I with you. Gods willing.” I took her hand gently, feeling the warmth of her skin, and in a low tone, almost a whisper, I continued. “I will take you from this place, we will be citizens of Rome, we will build something together... outside these walls.”
Her eyes filled with tears, and for a moment I thought the weight of my words was too much for her. But instead of faltering, she looked at me with a silent devotion that I didn't know how to reciprocate. Only, in the midst of it all, I felt the need to tell her something deeper. Something I had carried with me since I came to this time. But how could I tell her what I didn't understand myself?
”But there's something else you should know,” I said, hesitating. I pulled away, releasing his hand and began to pace the room, as if by the movement I could dispel my own confusion, “I don't belong in this time. I don't even belong in this era.”
She was watching me, her face had turned into an expression of mild incomprehension. I knew that what I was about to say would be incomprehensible to her, but I had to try.
”I am a traveller,” I began, the words coming out awkwardly. “I come from a time that is not yours. My existence is more than two thousand years away. It is as if... as if Charon, the ferryman of the underworld, had taken me beyond the limits of time, but instead of taking me to the realm of the dead, he deposited me here, in this time.”
I saw his eyes fill with uncertainty. I stopped. Maybe I should shut up, maybe I should stop trying to explain the inexplicable. But I continued.
”When someone dies, when they cross over to the other side, their memories fade,” I said, recalling the myths of her time. “But in my case, when I crossed over, I kept all of mine. I am not who I appear to be. My soul... my essence... comes from a place so far away that even the philosophers of this age could not understand it.”
She blinked, clearly confused. I tried to see some glimmer of understanding in her gaze, but all I saw was bewilderment. The silence between us spread like a heavy shadow.
Finally, I stopped. I sighed and let a resigned smile cross my lips.
”But it doesn't matter.” I said, taking her hand again, this time more firmly. “All you need to know is that I'm here with you right now. And that's all that really matters.”
She nodded slowly, and at that moment I understood that I didn't need to explain to her any more. My secret, that impossible weight, could stay with me. All she needed to know was that, in any time or place, my destiny was linked to her.
And so, in the stillness of that room, with the parchment sealed and the future uncertain, we stayed, knowing that, for now, that instant of tenderness was all we had.
To be continued
Header Image:
Caron. Source: okdiario.com
Wow, it's getting more interesting. Is he from the future?
One linguistic question: could the time traveler speak Latin without any accent? Wouldn't ancient people sense his way of speaking was odd? (In some science fiction, people had a computer translator. How was the linguistic gulf of two thousand years overcome?)
Yes, Yumi ( @yumiyumayume ) he is a time traveller but he still doesn't know why. He comes from the future, approximately 1980 and from the Spain of the future. He is a student of archaeology and, in order to avoid the destruction of an archaeological site, he carries out a small job in a Celtiberian castro (site from the Celtiberian period, prior to the Roman occupation of Hispania. Rome occupied all the territories along the Mediterranean Sea). There he finds remains of Roman pottery called ‘terra sigillata’ and, on classifying it, he is pricked by a fragment, it vanishes and appears 2000 years before, in a time he does not know... His life is an enigma and he tries, by all means, to find an explanation through the myths and scientific advances he knows and investigates... It is a difficult truth to confess and, meanwhile, he lives, falls in love, yearns, adapts and... Thank you for reading me, Yumi. To be continued...
Very interesting question, Tim ( @T-Newfields ). From what Hispanus has told me, his primary education, due to his religious studies, was in Latin and Greek. Julius Caesar's Gallic Wars and, on the other hand, the Iliad and the Odyssey were required reading for his studies. He tells me that he still remembers the accusative verbs with ‘a’ or ‘ad’. On the other hand, the Rome of those years was particularly cosmopolitan and, above all, Pompeii. Its Greek origin and its subsequent conquest by Rome made it the best place to start a new life in time. Everyone was a foreigner with different accents... To be continued...
On the other hand, the time traveler had the accent of Hispania Tarraconensis. In this humble science fiction, Hispanus did not have a computer translator and the linguistic gap of two thousand years was overcome with imagination and the desire to adapt to his new life...
As I read his confession of time travel, the intro and first two lines of Led Zeppelin's song Kashmir played in the back of my mind... chilling! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sfR_HWMzgyc
Thank you very much, Uly ( @CocoPop ). It is true that a phrase, a fragrance, an image, etc. transport our being through a window into the magical time of our existence. And so, without permission, they reveal to us that time does not exist even though we witness the havoc it wreaks on our body.
Wow, so true! Did you hear the lyrics and the music? That's exactly what they were singing about.
Yes, but I didn't remember it. Thank you very much for your remarks.
title: Charon or Caron?
You are right, Uly. it is Charon because it keeps the Greek term. As in Spanish we use the name Caronte, I thought that Caron was the Latin root of the name. In all the subtitles I put a Latin term that synthesizes the episode.
Interesting! I didn't know that.
@druida Your story sounds fascinating to hear! Thank you for sharing!! Now, I'm really looking forward to reading the next!