10. CANADA 21st Century #5
“Cripes, Gian!” Cassian gasped. Since Aeneas—and nearly all his reincarnated forms—had been large and muscled, and Cassian was smaller, much like the difference between the two immortals, he had long ago learned how to adjust his body to fit a brawny man’s embrace.
Still, Aeneas never possessed superhuman strength.
Even carefully controlled, it was still enough to nearly snatch his breath.
“Sorry, I got carried away. I’m just so happy to see you. Come on, let’s sit and you can tell me how the hell you’re here in this century and those other centuries. And Rufus! Tell me, is your husband my Rufus? Why didn’t he recognize me?”
“Whoa, whoa, Gian, one thing at a time. Is it okay if I call you Gian? I find Coriolanus a bit cumbersome to pronounce. And that’s coming from someone who speaks ancient Sumerian. To me, you’ll always be Gian.”
Coriolanus laughed and tussled Cassian’s hair.
“You can call me whatever the hell you want. I’ve been calling myself Corey for a while now, but Olympius hates it.
He’ll only call me Coriolanus. Honestly, a name’s a name to me, though I earned the name Coriolanus, so that’s the one I typically choose for myself, with some abbreviated versions now and then.
I tried to see if Olympius might like being called “Ollie,” something more modern, and he blew a gasket. He can be very, well—”
“Difficult?” Cassian finished for him with a chuckle.
“Not exactly, though I get why you’d think that. Olympius has always been very inflexible. He’s brutally intelligent, almost too cerebral for his own good. I’m working on loosening him up a bit. Now, about Aric. Is he my son, my Rufus?”
Cassian began his tale, starting at the beginning, in Pompeii, where he met the love of his life, Aeneas.
He explained to the immortal the deal he had made with Hecate, which would save him from the cruelty of the Wheel of Destiny’s determination to separate him from Aeneas for all eternity.
He told about the witch-goddess placing him in the Karmic Cycle of rebirth so that he could eternally match Aeneas’ destiny of continuous reincarnation as directed by the Wheel.
“That’s a clever way to beat one’s fate, my friend. I don’t possess the power to do something like that, and I doubt even Olympius could. Hecate is powerful, indeed.”
Cassian explained to his old friend that Rufus and Aric looked so much alike because the witch-goddess had ensured that both he and Aeneas would be reborn in forms closely resembling their originals, making it easier for him to find Aeneas, lifetime after lifetime.
“In fact, while Rufus was close to Aeneas’ appearance, Aric is a dead ringer.
Even this body I’m currently in is spot on to my original.
Meeting you again and learning the truth about everything—this current life has offered me so much.
It’s kinda weird. Not weird weird, but like, exciting weird, ya know? ”
“So what you’re telling me is that Rufus was your Aeneas reborn, as Aric is?”
“Yes, every reincarnation has Aeneas’ soul. Their unique personalities have fluctuations of individuality, based on environment, but the core of who they are is always Aeneas.”
Cassian had no desire to speak of Alejandro, the one corruption to his beloved’s cycle; that was his burden alone to bear.
“So was Rufus his own man? Like a branch on the tree that is Aeneas? I’m not sure I fully understand.”
“Yes—and no,” Cassian stated hesitantly.
“I’ll explain the best I can based on my experiences with Aeneas’ reincarnations.
Each man possesses autonomy and is formed by their own choices and the events in their life.
The goodness that lives at the core of Aeneas—his compassion, empathy, and desire to help others—exists within every one of them.
“As I said, there’s only one soul, crafted from the Well of Creation, and it belongs to Aeneas.
That soul is the constant, the one unchanging element.
It’s the thread that binds all his incarnations.
In each life, these men are my beloved. They aren’t distinct in the way you and I are, because none of them possesses their own unique soul.
Still, that doesn’t render them any less real.
They don’t pass into an afterlife of their own, for they aren’t separate from Aeneas; they reside within him.
All are expressions of his essence, components of his heart and mind.
“In that sense, they are, as you said, branches of a single great tree: unique in form, yet rooted at the same source. Separate, but forever connected. That’s the best I can do to explain it.”
Cassian went on to describe how his karmic rebirth worked, how he eventually regained all his memories, and the endless searches that followed.
“So those young men you were up to that point of remembrance, they just blip out of existence? That seems unfair, even cruel, though I’m not judging you, Cassian. Please don’t think that. I get that you have no power to change it.”
Cassian admitted that he was conflicted about that part of his rebirth cycle.
He felt bad for the families he had to leave behind, though at that point, they were basically strangers to him.
With the young men, however, Cassian felt those individuals were entirely false, a mask put over his submerged persona, so they were never truly alive, never real or fully formed.
Creations of the Karmic Cycle based on parts of his own personality.
“They’re all a cage I’m placed in,” Cassian stated emphatically, “until I’m strong enough to break free.”
Coriolanus nodded slowly, a low hmph escaping him, as if capitulating a point he did not entirely agree with but knew was not his place to give criticism or insight. There was nothing he could do to change the situation.
Or was there? An idea began forming in the immortal’s head.
“All magic demands a price, Gian. That’s one.
Here’s another. None of Aeneas’ reincarnations can be allowed to remember their past—who they were, who I am, or the truth of it all.
I made that mistake once, and it destroyed him.
The knowledge overwhelmed the man’s mind, and death followed soon after.
The threads of fate are malleable, yes, but they’re fragile.
So it must always fall to me to search, to remember, to carry the weight of our history.
“This is why Aric doesn’t recognize you. He has zero access to Rufus’ memories. But they’re still in there, and so is Rufus. So don’t think he’s forgotten you. In the afterlife, in those brief moments when Aeneas is whole, he remembers you. He loves you and misses you. I’m sure of it.
“Now, here, on this plane, when our souls meet, they recognize each other almost instantly. But the vindictive Wheel never makes it easy. It loves to intervene, placing blocks, weaving traps. That’s why I created the Spell of Recollection, to stir Aeneas’ soul, to awaken it.
“Sometimes the spell works quickly, like a moment of déjà vu, a flicker of memory or a sudden, inexplicable sense of knowing me. It helps ease the reunion. Other times, I have to put in the work, but no matter the situation that I find the reborn Aeneas in, his soul always reaches for mine. The results vary, which frustrates me. No, it pisses me off. Sometimes the spell fails completely, all because of the fucking Wheel’s interference. ”
“What if you could end it all, my friend?” Coriolanus said, his voice trembling with barely contained excitement.
“End it?” Cassian snapped. “What the hell are you talking about, Gian?”
The immortal moved closer on the couch, closing the distance between them.
He gently took Cassian’s hands in his own.
“No, not like that,” he said softly. “I don’t mean death.
I mean the Karmic Cycle and the endless chain of reincarnations.
What if it could finally stop? What if you could just live one life, together? Forever.”
Cassian’s brow furrowed, skepticism flashing in his eyes. “What are you trying to say? You’re dancing around something. Just say what you mean.”
Coriolanus leaned in, his voice a whisper laced with fire. “I mean immortality, my old friend. What if I made the two of you immortal?”
Cassian blanched; the idea had never crossed his mind. “True immortality?” That’s crazy!
Or was it? The very word felt unreal on his tongue, even overwhelming. And yet, it made sense.
“Had I known all of this back in Devonshire, Cassian, I could have saved you a millennia of heartache. Still, when I think of today! And you said it yourself, man, your body is a perfect replica of your original one, and Aric is the spitting image of Aeneas. If any lifetime was ideal for the two of you to become immortal, it’s this one. ”
“I—I don’t know what to say. Is it possible? Could it work?”
“Yes, Cassian, it could and will,” Olympius declared boldly, suddenly standing in the room with them.
The Romani witch wondered if he would ever get used to Olympius’ effortless command over speed, space, and silence.
“The magic within our blood that makes us immortal is as old as the Wheel of Destiny,” the Lord of the Night stated.
“Perhaps older. No one really knows. This power created the first immortals, and it can defy the Wheel without consequence. Well, aside from the fact that you will never truly feel human again, if you consider that impactful. You shall forever be more than mortal, superior, because you are. It makes life among them tricky, often more trouble than it’s worth.
Immortals do well living solitary lives, jumping in and out of the human world at their pleasure, but you wish to be two, as Coriolanus and I are two.