Time-Crossed Eternity

[Hahvoc The Decepticon]

How can you measure time? Is it something that you check daily on your watch? Something you keep tabs on when you sit there at your desk wondering when your shift will end? Or is it something truly intangible? Something that no one can capture or tame? Is it like a beast that you keep caged but realize that you don't have any control over it as it stares at you with a look of utter destruction? Or is it something soothing like water flowing from a stream heading onto somewhere unknown? Does it follow you or do you follow it?

When we first met, we didn't realize time would be our greatest gift. And our worst enemy.

The first time I saw her was in a market square in Rome. She was a young girl, maybe thirteen, and I was a young man, barely an adult by society's standards back then. She looked innocent yet upset at something - probably something a brother or father said to her as she went about feeding the livestock that was on sale at her family's stall. She looked dirty and proud. She always looked proud. It was in the set of her shoulders, the way her lips were curved into a line that was both straight yet curved just at the ends, almost as if she wanted to smile but couldn't. In this case, her hair was red like fired up copper. Her eyes were as blue as sapphires. Her skin tanned from hours being outside. No one here was pale unless they were nobles and never worked a day in their life or stayed outside too long. They may not have had callouses on their hands, but they certainly had blood. So did I.

I could have spent all day staring at her as she worked, glorifying over her spirit in secret. I felt like a leper just watching her, but I was entranced. She was beautiful. I could have wove poetry like Shakespeare did in his time, or wrote about her like Homer did Odysseus. I may have been educated, but I knew so little. I knew very little. Rome was a much different place back then. There was much to be desired. I worked for my own family. We owned a bakery that was famous in the square. We worked long days and had even shorter nights, but it was worth it every day. And it didn't matter how busy the square got or how quiet, I always watched the Girl in The Square. That was what I called her at first.

It wasn't until months later that I learned her name. It still haunts me.

We didn't know it yet, but our families were becoming friends and realized my interest in her. Back then you married young or when you were of proper age. Thirteen was considered a bit young, but not always. I didn't want someone that young and so innocent. As much as she was beautiful, she was more like a sister in my mind at that point. Yet I wanted to get to know her. I wasn't much older than her. I was four years her senior. We were both still children. There was still so much that we didn't know.

We were sitting at the dinner table in her parents' home. We had two courses and wine, good company. She had two younger sisters - twins - who ran around pretending to be gladiators. They had traces of their sister's red hair that she had inherited from her mother. Her mother had been a slave that had been bought by her father - whom he had freed upon marriage. It was rare that a man loved his slave, much less enough to free and marry her. It almost seemed surreal, but the love was there in their faces. Her mother worked hard. Her father worked hard. She had three older brothers who worked fields during the day and slept most of the night. They had stayed at the table briefly to check if I was good enough for their sister before they were out cold for the night from labor and wine.

During conversation, I got a look out of the corner of my eye. It was just a glance, but I saw her look at me. For a second I thought I was mistaken, but then her cheeks bloomed pink with embarrassment at being caught. Or perhaps for simply staring. I couldn't help but feel heat rise in my own cheeks. Her eyes were bewitching.

"Nicasia, show Silvanus the garden." Her father said, watching her with a small smile. He was a kind man, Aegidius. Kind and stern. Candra, her mother, motioned for both of us to go. It was time for the adults to talk. Nicasia stood, murmuring that she would go before looking at me with those entrancing eyes. I couldn't help but follow as if lovestruck by fate. And I was. Fate held onto me so tightly I'm surprised I didn't feel her claws embedded in my soul.

And I wish now more than ever that I had known she would capture Nicasia.

 

[Hahvoc The Decepticon]

How were we captured by Father Time? To this day, I still don't know. When I was in the garden with my Nicasia, I never wanted the night to end. I wanted to stay in her gaze, her presence. She had this spirit that just drew you in. I wasn't the only man who had an interest in her, but her parents didn't want her ruined and damaged. They wanted a good, kind man for their daughter. One with a spine, but one who wouldn't do any harm to her. She was still a child, after all. The moon had been high in the sky, a beautiful copper color. The sky was a deep, rich black, winking with so many stars. Not a cloud could be seen for miles. But I wasn't thinking of the moon or the stars, I was thinking of how the light shown on her red hair and the flowers she touched. I was jealous of the flowers, I thought. She looked at them so tenderly. It was rare for a working family to have a garden, especially one so vibrant, but Nicasia was studious with it. She loved the flowers. They were like people to her.

"I've seen you watching me."

She suddenly said, staring at a purple petal that rested in her small hands. I snapped out of my daze at the sound of her voice. It wasn't yet deepened from womanhood and age, but it had the tone of someone who had seen too much already. I didn't know how to reply, I just watched her, saw her blush and look away from me and back to the petal. She spoke again.

"Mother says you want to marry me. Is this true?"

"When you are older, I would like to earn that right, yes."

I couldn't help but answer honestly. She seemed to dwell on that answer, looking at me dead on with no blush or even hint of modesty. She was bold when she needed to be, even for a child her age. She stroked the petal with the tip of her finger, humming a soft tune before she finally spoke. It felt like an eternity before she did.

"You would wait for me. Why?"

"You are beautiful and draw me in like nothing else."

"Am I just that to you? Beautiful, that is?"

"No, you are far more."

"Tell me. Tell me your reasons, I am but a beautiful stranger to you."

Now, I hadn't really known Nicasia long, but I felt like I had known her my whole life. I couldn't help but walk over to her and touch the flower in her hand without impeding on her space or touching her. I could feel her body heat even from that distance. It rose into my finger from petal she kept safe. I hoped I could keep her heart just as safe. Maybe I was young and stupid, but I found myself quickly falling in love with this girl. I would have waited forever to have her as my bride.

"You are proud and strong, gentle, tender. I can see it in your eyes when you look at your sisters, when you look at your flowers. You are intelligent, which I respect. I find it entrancing that you learn so quickly, especially when you say nothing because your eyes show everything. Your eyes lure me in as if to show me your soul. As if you need me to see it and believe you are real."

"You would think I am an illusion?"

"I fear my eyes deceive me when I look upon you."

"Why is that?"

"I fear if I let myself linger, I will awake as if from a dream for you are more beautiful than the setting sun and just as out of my reach."

She smiled at this, a secretive smile, almost as if she wanted to laugh but didn't. I was in love with that smile. She looked up at me, showing me a truly beautiful smile, one that reached her eyes and showed me another glimpse of her soul. I forgot how to breathe. I could see the specks of gold that made up the colors in her captivating gaze. I have never forgotten that look. I never will.

"Yet I am real and this is not a dream. How long would you wait for me?"

"I would wait forever."

"Truly?"

"Nicasia..."

She silenced me with a kiss. It was chaste, so very innocent, and over all too soon, but it stole my heart right from my ribs. It belonged to her from that moment. She seemed embarrassed by my moonstruck look, but she smiled, eyes so very serious. She spoke softly.

"Wait until I have reached sixteen years of age. Please, wait until then, Silvanus, then ask for my hand again. I know our parents are working out their own deals to benefit our families, of which I am not opposed, but I ask you with all sincerity, to please wait until then before making me your bride. Would you agree to that?"

"Yes."

"Truly?"

"I will wait."

We didn't talk anymore about the arrangement we made. We seemed content to stay in close company with one another. As we stared at the moon, close yet not touching, we didn't realize that our promise would never be kept. That this peaceful existence would end so suddenly. None of us were prepared for any of it. Thinking about it still brings tears to my eyes. I couldn't save her.

A year later, my Nicasia was dead.

It wasn't some disease or an accident. While I was away getting ingredients from my family's home, holding a flower Nicasia had given me, I felt a sharp pain in my chest. I knew something was terribly wrong. I ran to her family's home, found her mother in tears, her father having a look of pure rage. I didn't know what had happened yet. Neither of them could speak. I ran inside and lost the will to stand. Nicasia lay on the floor, bloody and naked. Her clothing had been torn and left on the floor like trash. I could see that she had fought as hard as she could, her left arm at an odd angle along with one of her legs. Tears ran like blood down my face. Her eyes were glazed over in unmistakable death. Someone had stolen my Nicasia. I screamed. I held her body close to mine and cried until no more tears would fall. Until my vision was so clouded by grief I could not see. My betrothed, my beautiful Nicasia was gone.

Later, her brothers returned with a man who looked crazed but it was not hard to tell that he had been the one to take my Nicasia away from me. A few strands of her hair had been coiled around his wrist like a prize. He had blood on him and bruises on his knuckles. I would have thought him to be a man who had gotten into a fight, but her hair on his body was unmistakable. No one had hair like Nicasia. Her brothers threw the man to the ground before my feet. I looked at her father. It was his right to kill this man for what he had done. Instead, we did it together. It was not a quick death. It was the most brutal thing I had ever done.

The next day, we burned Nicasia's body and sent our prayers to the Gods. I lost so much faith that day. The smell of burning flesh was fresh in my nose, and I was numb. My heart had died along with Nicasia. I didn't know how I would go on. I didn't sleep, I couldn't eat, and I could barely talk. My family worried I would die. I wanted to. I saw her parents every day. Her mother was wasting away like I was, but had to keep her family alive. Her sisters didn't play anymore. It was like they didn't know how. A black shawl had been pulled over their house. Her father never spoke again.

And then I too, followed Nicasia into death. It was the first time I died.

It would be many years before I found her again.