Chapter Text
I wake up to the taut throbbing of my shoulder. Strange. My shoulder has no right to be aching like this – that honor belongs to my legs. Which aren’t hurting, strangely.
I open my eyes to stare at a familiar wooden ceiling. Too familiar, and too rustic for any room I’ve seen of the Villa Telimus. Where I should be. Where I went to bed last night, after…that.
The last hours rush back to my sleep-addled brain.
Aequa’s head. My legs. Lanistia. Relucia. Eidhin. Diago. Ka. The iunctii.
Callidus.
My family.
A long, painful journey home, to my room and my bed. They felt so strange, so inconsequential, after such a day. Neither that, nor the pain, could keep me from sleeping, though. And waking up…here.
This is wrong. This is all very wrong. I reach my hand downwards, hoisting myself up to a seated position. I look to my shoulder – there is more than a shoulder. My whole godsdamned arm is back, shoulder sloppily bandaged.
Where the hell am I? What the hell is going on? I stand hesitantly, fearing the pain will rush back, but nothing happens. I reach mentally for my connection, but nothing’s there. My will’s not there – not fully. My will is there – I can feel it almost subconsciously at this point – but it’s alone. The strength of my septimii is gone. It’s just me. I reach for it, try to imbue the mattress, but nothing happens. My will is there, in my mental clarity and physical capacity, but I can’t reach it. Can’t control it. It’s like before I ran the Labyrinth, before the Aurora Columnae.
What the hell did those iunctii do to me? Did I miscalculate? Did raising an army of the dead take more Will than I realized? Gods. I raised an army of the dead. But that shouldn’t have brought my arm back. Or made me unable to use Will at all. I didn’t have my arm last night; I had to explain that to my mom and sister. I used Will on the way home, too. Needed to, to stay upright. So…this isn’t because of the iunctii. Or Ka, probably. If he’s not synchronous, his Will is probably just the Will I know, the Will of this world.
Vek.
Am I in another world? This doesn’t look like what I’ve seen of Obiteum, with its red haze and pyramids. It could be Luceum, I guess, but I doubt it. The room looks too familiar. Unless…a version of me has already seen it. Am I Luceum me? The version of Vis with two arms, who’s never visited the Aurora Columnae?
It makes no sense. None of this makes any godsdamned sense.
I turn to leave this claustrophobically small bedroom, whose entire floor is occupied by this cruddy mattress, when I spot something strange. A panel in the wall sits slightly ajar. Vek. There’s no godsdamned way. It can’t be.
My hands shake, slightly, as I reach for the panel and pry it from the wall. In the small cavity beyond sit a pile of coins, and a travelogue chronicling opportunities for travel on an eastern archipelago on the fringes of the Catenan Republic.
I almost slam the panel back into place. There’s no way.
It can’t be.
As much as I have learned in the past year about Will, time was never an option. Will can manipulate the present. Iunctii, I suppose, let you recall the past, but not meet it. There is no reasonable explanation for this.
I should be at the Villa Telimus, planning a bid for Princeps, and dealing with an army of the dead that may contain my best friend, mother, and sister. I should not be seventeen years old, waking up in a Republic orphanage, will-less and arm-ed. Well, honestly, I’m not complaining about having my arm back. But I shouldn’t be here.
My suspicions are confirmed when the door flies open, and I see Vermes’ smug face staring back at me.
“The hell are you doing, Rex?” he says, with a voice as grating as his personality. His bulk and height may make him look older than fifteen, but his voice gives him away. It sounds like it’s always on the verge of cracking. “Why the hell are you standing around, you lazy ass? Matron says there’s an adoption happening today, and you need to get everyone ready.”
I’ve forgotten how much I hated it – hate it – here. But unfortunately, I probably need to play this game.
I have an agenda, after all. And although my plans may have been altered slightly by the resetting of my godsdamned self into the past, this might be an opportunity. I know these people. I know some of their secrets. I know their plans. If I play my cards right, I might be able to do it – do life – better this time around. But first, I need to make sure my adopted father adopts me.