36. Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Six
T hrax
The weight of Skye’s sleeping form against my chest should be comforting, but tonight, even her gentle presence can’t keep the darkness at bay. As I drift into an uneasy sleep, the present fades away, and I’m thrust back into a memory I’ve long tried to forget.
I’m huddled in a dark corner of the ludus , my body aching from the day’s brutal training. Voices drift from the courtyard—my lanista and the ludus master, their tones hushed but clear in the still night air.
“…can’t believe he’s survived this long,” the lanista says, a note of disgust in his voice. “Every time I put him in a difficult match, I expect it to be his last.”
The ludus master chuckles, the sound devoid of warmth. “He’s like a cockroach, that one. Impossible to kill.”
“It’s getting harder to find easy opponents for him,” the l anista continues. “Soon, he’ll be facing more experienced gladiators. Then we’ll see how long he lasts.”
“Why bother? He’s worth more alive in Britannia. That’s why I’m putting him on the Fortuna . ”
Their words cut deeper than any blade I’ve faced in the arena. I curl into myself, trying to block out their cruel assessment of my worth—or lack of it.
“It’s good he’s a slave,” the ludus master muses. “Can you imagine that face as a free man? He’d never be able to find a wife, no matter how much power or gold he has.”
The lanista laughs, a harsh, grating sound. “The man I bought him from said he was a foundling, left to die in the forest. Too bad he didn’t meet his end as a babe and save us all the trouble.”
Their laughter echoes in the night, each cruel word chipping away at what little self-worth I’ve managed to hold onto. I close my eyes, silently pleading for Goddess Fortuna to appear, to offer some small comfort or sign that I’m not as worthless as they claim. But the goddess remains silent, absent when I need her most.
I jolt awake, heart pounding, sweat beading on my brow. Skye stirs beside me, mumbling softly in her sleep. For a moment, I tighten my arm around her, clinging to the warmth and comfort she represents. But then doubt creeps in, toxic, poisonous.
Everyone here in present day talks about my worth, about how valuable I am. But it’s not because of who I am inside. It’s because of what I represent—a scientific oddity, a potential goldmine of historical knowledge. They say I’ll be famous when word gets out. But famous for what? For being a freak of nature? A man out of time?
And Skye… sweet, brilliant Skye. What does she really see in me? Is this all just part of her job? Am I nothing more than an interesting project to her? The cruel words of my lanista and ludus master echo in my mind, reminding me of my ugliness, stupidity, and worthlessness.
My breathing becomes ragged, panic clawing at my chest. I’m sweating, trembling, feeling completely and utterly useless. What place could I possibly have in this world? What could I offer someone like Skye ?
My distress must wake her because suddenly she’s there, her hands cupping my face, her voice soft and soothing. “Thrax? Thrax, it’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Her touch, her voice—they cut through the panic, grounding me in the present. The affection and concern in her eyes are so genuine, so pure, that my fears ebb.
“Bad dream?” she asks, her palm gently wiping the panicked sweat off my brow.
I nod, unable to form words just yet. Skye pulls me close, her fingers running through my hair in a comforting gesture. Finally, I take a deep breath and babble out my fears about my worth and the truth of what’s going on between the two of us.
“Listen to me,” she says firmly. “Those thoughts are not true. You are so much more than you realize, Thrax. You’re strong, and kind, and brave. And I…” she pauses, taking a deep breath. “I care about you so much. More than I’ve ever cared for anyone.”
Her words wash over me, soothing the raw edges of my mind. But she’s not done yet.
“Stay right here,” she says, her tone allowing no argument. “Count to two hundred. Can you do that for me? Count to two hundred before you start panicking again. Promise me.”
I nod, even as I wonder if I can get away with lying to her—no. “I promise.”
She kisses me quickly, then darts out of the room. I count, the simple task helping to calm my racing thoughts. By the time I reach one hundred fifty, I hear her footsteps hammering down the hallway.
Skye bursts back into the room, slightly out of breath, clutching something in her hand. As she approaches, I realize what it is—the wooden phallus necklace I carved for her, the one she wore despite the initial misunderstanding.
“Tell me,” she says, sitting beside me on the bed. “Tell me again exactly what Caecilia said when she gave you your talisman. ”
Confused but complying, I repeat the words that have been etched in my memory for two millennia. “For protection and good luck. May the Gods watch over you, my boy. May the Goddess Fortuna herself smile upon you.”
Skye listens intently, then, to my surprise, repeats the words back to me in perfect Latin. She’s turned down her earbud translator, I realize, wanting to speak the words exactly as Caecilia did—in my language.
“Now,” she says, holding out the necklace. “You have your talisman back, Thrax. And you have something else—you have me.”
She slips the necklace over my head, the familiar weight settling against my chest. It’s as if a missing piece of myself has been returned.
“Skye,” I breathe, overwhelmed by her gesture.
She takes my hand, placing it over the dolphin pendant dangling between her breasts. “And I have you,” she says softly. “This isn’t about your value as a historical figure or a scientific marvel, Thrax. This is about you and me. Two people who found each other against impossible odds.”
I pull her close, burying my face in her hair, breathing in her scent. The last traces of my nightmare fade, replaced by the warmth of her embrace and the truth of her words.
“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice thick with emotion. “For everything. For seeing me. The real me.”
Skye pulls back slightly, her gaze meeting mine. “Always,” she promises. Then, with a small smile, she adds, “Now, how about we try to get some more sleep? And if those bad dreams come back, remember—you’ve got your talisman, you’ve got me, and you’ve got your own strength. You’re not alone, Thrax. Not anymore.”
As we settle back into bed, Skye’s body fitting perfectly against mine, I feel a sense of peace wash over me. The wooden phallus rests against my chest, a link to my past. The woman in my arms represents my future. And for the first time in my long, strange life, I feel truly, completely whole.