Chapter 5
Roman
Idreaded what my dreams would reveal each time I closed my eyes.
Night after night, I wandered through vivid landscapes steeped in turmoil, waking drenched in sweat, my sheets twisted around my limbs, my heart pounding against my ribs.
I’d sit upright, wiping the dampness from my face, replaying the nightmare in my mind, sifting through its fragments for meaning.
But tonight was different.
Tonight, I dreamed of Malik—a stranger I had never met, yet somehow, I knew him.
I saw how he had saved me from Balthazar, carrying me through time to Olivia’s era.
How I had lain dying on the battlefield, a Kiowa warrior’s blade buried deep in my side, and he had lifted me as if I weighed nothing, transporting me here to be healed.
And then, the dream shifted.
We hunted together, our bodies pressed against the earth, bows drawn, arrows poised.
An eight-point buck stood ahead, its head raised, ears flicking forward, sensing something unseen.
“Now,” Malik whispered.
The deer turned, locking eyes with me just as I loosed my arrow. It flew swiftly and true, striking the buck’s chest.
With a deep, shuddering bellow, the animal staggered, sinking to its knees. Blood trickled from the wound as it fought to rise.
I moved instinctively, ready to rush forward, but Malik’s arm shot out, barring my way.
“Wait,” he murmured. “He’s gathering his song to sing to the spirits.”
The deer shifted weakly, took one last lurch forward on its knees, and crumpled onto its side.
“Now, he is ready,” Malik said, rising.
We walked silently toward the fallen creature, the forest alive with the hush of something sacred. The buck lay still, its unseeing eyes fixed on the beyond.
Malik turned to me, wrapping me in a firm embrace.
The moment felt profound—warmer than mere camaraderie, deeper than victory. It was an understanding, the unspoken bond of two hunters who had shared something primal, something eternal.
Next, we rode without saddles, our horses thundering across the open plains.
The wind whipped against my face, carrying the scent of wild grass and freedom.
Our lives were whole and rich—the kind of life I had only ever imagined.
This was the brotherhood I had longed for with Marcellious, yet I had found it in abundance with Malik—a warmth spread through my chest like sunlight spilling over water.
As our horses galloped, I threw up my arms and shouted, laughter spilling from my lips. I loved my life, my family, and the man who had become my brother.
Then, the sky darkened.
Thunderclouds rolled in, heavy and menacing. A resounding, bellowing clap shook the heavens, followed by jagged streaks of lightning. The earth trembled. And then, the fire came.
Flames leaped across the plains, devouring everything in their path. Smoke billowed, thick and suffocating. The world burned, swallowing everything I cherished—my home, family, and life.
I ran through the inferno, my heart pounding like a war drum. Then, I saw her—my wife. The fire consumed her, twisting her body into something unrecognizable.
“My love,” I sobbed, gathering her into my arms. Her flesh burned beneath my touch, but I couldn’t let go. I wouldn’t.
Gently, I laid her down, pressing a final kiss to her scorched lips. Then, I turned and found them—our children. Their blackened bodies lay still, small and fragile. One by one, I placed them beside her, my hands shaking, my soul shattering.
I would never see them again.
My chest exploded with agony as if a cannonball had torn through my ribs. A scream tore from my throat—
And I woke.
Drenched in sweat, I fought against the tangled sheets, gasping for air. My pulse pounded in my ears, my body tremored with the aftershocks of the nightmare.
These dreams. They wouldn’t stop. They were getting worse. Every night, the fire came. Every night, I lost them all over again.
With a groan, I yanked the covers aside and swung my legs over the edge of the mattress. Elbows on my thighs, I buried my face in my hands.
I couldn’t keep living like this.
Disoriented, my mind fogged with exhaustion, I forced myself to dress and staggered out of the room.
How could I make it stop?
I reached the kitchen, but the sight before me made me stop short.
Gripping the doorway for balance, I blinked wildly. “Dancing Fire!”
The older man grinned, his weathered face creasing with warmth. He stood tall, his presence formidable, radiating a quiet, unshakable pride. His coffee-colored eyes gleamed with ancient wisdom, seeing more than they let on.
In this century, his hair was bound into two long braids that fell down his back.
Jack sat beside him at the table, quietly sipping his coffee.
Dancing Fire rushed toward me, pulling me into a firm embrace.
He felt smaller than I remembered, but the strength in his limbs remained. When he finally released me, his hands gripped my upper arms, his gaze searching mine.
“I haven’t heard that name in a long time,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “Please, call me Lee. Or Moon Lee, if you prefer.”
His eyes gleamed, and I realized mine were damp, too.
“So good to see you, son!” He clapped my arm, grinning. “The last time I saw you, you were just a young man. Look at you now—bigger than me! You were puny before. Now, look at this muscle.”
He gave my biceps a firm squeeze, his laughter deep and warm.
My throat tightened. Words failed me. Finally, I managed, “I can’t believe I’m here with you. It’s been too long.”
“Far too long.” Lee gestured toward the table. “Come. Sit. Eat. We have much to catch up on.”
I took a seat opposite him and Jack.
“Good morning, Jack. You’ve brought quite the welcome surprise today,” I said, still reeling from the sight of Lee before me.
Jack patted my back, grinning. “Lee finally got back to me. What can I get you for breakfast? Coffee and eggs? Bacon?”
“Yes, please.” Since arriving in this century, I’d developed a fondness for coffee and bacon—two things I never wanted to live without again.
As Jack busied himself in the kitchen, Lee turned to me, his expression shifting from warmth to something more serious.
“Tell me everything,” he urged. “What have you encountered since last we met?”
I exhaled, dragging a hand through my hair. “Where do I even begin?”
And so, I told him.
I spoke of Rome—of how I landed there and became a gladiator under Emperor Severus. I told him of Marcus, my closest friend, and my unending conflicts with Marcellious. I recounted the betrayal—the setup to kill Marcus at Marcellious’ request.
Lee’s face darkened as I spoke. His fingers curled slightly, his jaw tightening.
“Who is this Marcellious?” he asked.
I swallowed hard. “Marcellious is my twin brother.”
Lee’s breath hitched, his brows drawing together.
“Olivia suspected it,” I continued, “so she time-traveled us all to the Americas, where we found your brother, Grey Feather. He helped us on our journey.”
Lee sat still for a moment, absorbing my words. Then, he nodded.
“Grey Feather…” he murmured, his gaze distant, as if seeing ghosts of the past.
A deep breath left him, his expression shifting between awe and sorrow. “Marcellinus was Hunting Wolf when I knew him. My boy—the little boy I raised—turned into a man, a warrior.” His voice drifted off. “How I wish I could see him again, hold him, tell him how proud I am. I miss him dearly.”
A small, mirthful smile broke through his sorrow. “The name Marcellious… It comes from an old story I used to tell him when he was a boy. Marcellious was a great warrior and slayer of demons, always victorious. He loved that tale.”
“Interesting,” I murmured as Jack set a steaming coffee before me. I wrapped my hands around it, letting the heat seep into my fingers. “He tried to kill me many times. He was in a dark place in Rome.”
Lee’s smile faded into a deep frown.
I told him everything about meeting Olivia, our initial conflicts, and how we fell in love despite them. I also told him about Grey Feather marrying us in the Americas, binding us in ways deeper than time.
“How is he?” Lee asked, his voice heavy with longing.
My throat tightened. “Much of his tribe has been killed. Their people are struggling to survive.”
Silence settled over us, thick with unspoken grief.
The smell of bacon filled the air, stirring my stomach into a hollow ache. I took a sip of coffee, letting its rich, earthy sweetness ground me.
“I’m so glad she found you,” Lee finally said. He stared into his mug as if the past lay in its depths. “I sent her to Rome for a reason. I needed her to take you out of there. She’s a smart girl. I knew she’d figure it all out.”
He lifted the mug to his lips, taking a sip.
I set my own down, my grip tightening around the handle. A thought clawed its way up, twisting in my gut.
“It was you,” I said, my voice quieter now but no less intense. “You threw me into Rome when I was twenty-one.” The coffee in my stomach churned, turning acidic. “And then, years later, you sent Olivia to find me.”
Lee didn’t speak. He didn’t have to.
“We always wondered if you were truly a time traveler,” I pressed. “Grey Feather confirmed it for us.”
Jack’s pan clanged against the stove as he continued cooking, but I barely noticed.
My entire life—every hardship, every twist of fate—had started with the man sitting across from me. And now, at last, I had answers.
But did I want them?
Jack set a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon before me. I picked up my fork and began to eat, my mind still tangled in the conversation, waiting for Lee to speak.
Lee exhaled, pulling himself from his reverie. “Jack called me a few weeks ago and said a strange man appeared near his home. That was you.” He studied me, his brow furrowed. “Who brought you here?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted, wiping my mouth with a napkin. “But I have a note.”
Lee straightened, his interest piqued. “Might I see it?”