24. Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Four
T hrax
I focus on the colorless wall in front of me as Dr. Schmid carefully removes the bandage from my ear. I’ve been dreading this moment, wondering if my ear might look worse than it did in the first place. Or maybe I’ve set my hopes too high, thinking it will change me into a completely different man when only one small part of my body is improved. Clearing my throat, I bring myself back to the present and focus on Skye’s hand clasped tightly in mine.
In the ludus , the medicus would burn potent herbs to make a wounded gladiator sleep while he completed whatever butchery he wanted on us. Here in the hospital, whatever herbs they burn make my nose sting, but Skye tells me it’s to keep it clean.
“Alright, Thrax,” Dr. Schmid says, his voice calm and reassuring. “The bandage is off. Are you ready to take a look?”
After breathing deeply, I nod. He hands me a mirror, and for a moment, I hesitate. What if the surgery didn’t work? What if I’m still the same ugly, deformed gladiator I’ve always been?
Skye squeezes my hand. “It’s okay,” she whispers. “I’m right here. ”
Steeling myself, I raise the mirror. My breath catches in my throat as I take in my reflection. The misshapen lump that was once my ear has been transformed. It’s not perfect—there are still scars, still signs of the beatings it endured. But it’s… normal. Even someone as dumb as me could recognize that it’s an ear.
“Oh, Thrax,” Skye breathes, her eyes shining with emotion. “It looks wonderful.”
“It’s still a bit puffy and red from the surgery. It will look even better in a week. You’ll see,” the doctor says.
I can’t speak, overcome with emotion. My fingers tremble as I reach up to touch the newly shaped ear. It feels strange, unfamiliar, yet undeniably mine.
Dr. Schmid throws the used bandages into a red bag. “The nurse and I will give you two a moment.”
As soon as the door closes behind them, Skye wraps her arms around me. “How do you feel?” she asks, her voice muffled against my chest.
“I… I don’t know,” I admit, still staring at my reflection. “It’s such a small thing, really. Just an ear. Many of my comrades lost so much more than that… their lives, limbs, horrible disfigurements.”
Skye pulls back, cupping my face in her hands. “But this has defined you in some way—in your own mind—for most of your life. Now it’s one more reminder that you can chart your own course from here. This doesn’t change who you are inside. But if it helps you feel more comfortable, more confident, then I’m thrilled for you.”
Her words wash over me, soothing the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside. For the first time in my long, strange life, I look at myself and don’t immediately feel shame or disgust. It’s a small change physically, but the impact on my soul is boundless.
“Thank you,” I whisper. “For being here, for supporting me through this, for caring enough to take the chance to mention it to me. ”
She smiles, her eyes full of warmth. “Always,” she promises. “This is just the beginning, Thrax. You’re healing, body, mind, and soul, one step at a time.”
As I look at my reflection once more, I realize she’s right. This isn’t just about fixing my ear. It’s about my identity, about seeing myself through new eyes. It’s part of my second chance at life, and each day I believe more and more that I deserve it.