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How
long have I lived? Well,
my first birth was in the 4th Century, CE.
I refuse to use AD. Yes,
it’s personal. I died at
31, a spear piercing my liver. I
was able to ride off the battlefield on my own steam, but died the next
morning. Problem was, the
spear was Roman, not Persian. I pretended I didn't notice.
What good would it have done at that point to admit my enemies
had finally succeeded in assassinating me.
What good vengeance then?
I next awoke in the body of a six year old boy.
5th century. A
shock, as you might imagine for the both of us.
Of course the boy was in dire straights.
Just my luck.
Six. A bad year for me in
both lives. My father, as
well as all my other male relatives except my older brother who was at
the time ill and expected to die anyway, were murdered. By my dear
beloved cousin. Their
crime? Consanguinity.
Families. All jealousy and paranoia.
But, I learned to speak treason anyway.
Fluently.
But I digress. I tend to do that. A lot. Back to the boy.
Me. The second
edition Julian. I’m
still not exactly sure what happened.
I only know that in that boy child’s body, when he was
terrified by a man about to rape him, I awoke.
Bam. Full memories
of my previous life. And I
had magic. I hadn’t had magic that first life. Good
thing.
Who knows what the world might be like to day. Ah, lost
opportunities.. Maximus was the magician back then.
I was merely a philosopher turned warrior.
But the boy … Me. I was
suddenly magical. So, exit,
permanently, the lecherous priest. Yes, second life, second reason to
hate the Church. Sorry if
that offends you. I’m an unreconstructed Pagan, and unapologetic about
it..
I’m
also a bit leery of friends. Dislike
the word. Why?
Well, remember that Roman spear?
The only man who could have put it through my liver was “a
friend.” Oh, and a
Christian. Later, when my
body was well and truly buried and spat upon, I understand he was proud
to take credit. Said he’d
killed me in the name of the Church.
Thanks so much.
So,
back to friends. I’m not
very trusting, I’m afraid. I’ve
no real objection to acquaintances, I’m just not likely to bet my life
on their loyalty. Still. As
I live a rather, er, enthusiastic life, I’ve been forced , now and
again, to trust my back to a few men and women.
So far, so good. But
another betrayal will not surprise me in the least.
Yes, as you can imagine, I’m a challenge to anyone who wishes
to get to know me well.
Much
to my surprise, several beings insist on calling me friend.
I’m cautious about the whole thing, and warn them up front I
will only disappoint them in the end.
Still, they persist. What
fools we can be. Me, mostly.
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