Thirteen Lullabies | ✓

VII.II

The dreams that explained my childhood stopped. I spent night after night waiting to learn more, but it appeared that I would not learn any more about what happened to my family. I would never know if my siblings had survived that night.

When I did dream again, it was about my life in Carthage. It seemed to be four or five years after the last scene I watched. This time I wasn't a bystander. Instead, I was inside my body, watching what unfolded as if I were back in ancient Greece again.

I found myself in a woman's bed, her matted dark hair cluing me in on what must have happened. Her brows were furrowed, and she was trying to tell me something, but my ears were ringing. I closed my eyes, attempting to focus on her voice.

When I finally heard it, it was soft but insistent, the hint of an accent coming out. "You need to go. Now. My husband will be back soon. Please, quickly." I pushed myself up, fixing my chiton and walking out. It was still dark out, so I didn't fear being caught.

I didn't really fear anything, it seemed. I walked with the confidence of a god, and though I couldn't tell you how, I could feel I was worshiped like one.

As I walked past the agora and approached what I assumed to be my home, I noticed a raven in a tree nearby. Its call pulled me towards it, and it created a sense of unexplainable foreboding within me. I refused it, putting one foot in front of the other until I reached the doorway of my small stone house.

As I entered, everything around me went dark, and then I felt as though I were transported through time, my ears ringing yet again. When I opened my eyes, the sun was shining brightly, beating down on me as I attempted to cover them from the piercing rays.

I walked through the agora again, now bustling with people. Vendors yelled as people milled around, filling their pockets full of fruit to stave off the heat of the day. Every woman near my age was either glaring at me or waving to me. I didn't understand, but it appeared as though being a soldier had attracted the attention of many of the women in Carthage.

I smiled at each and every one of them, somehow knowing which of them I had already slept with (and therefore needed to steer clear of) and those of which I had not. I lost control of my own body, as the dream mortal version of me walked around like a celebrity in this village.

A large, towering man with long black hair came towards me, clearly a commander of some sort. "Ambrose, you missed training yet again. This is happening far too often. If it happens one more time, we will ask that you leave our camp and Carthage. You took an oath when you joined, and I will not let you disparage that now. Your duty is to this state, and you must protect it at all costs. Report to Critolaos at once." This man's face seemed familiar, and with a jolt, I realized it was Diaeus, my commander in our first life together. He was much, much younger, his face lacking the lines and creases of age. Critalaos was still a commander, then. Not yet general of the Achaean army. We were still in a time before the Romans had defeated him.

With a nod, my feet led me to wherever it was I was meant to meet this commander.

When I reached his stone home, he nodded that I could come in. "Sir." I clasped his forearm as he did the same.

"It has come to my attention that you have missed training five days of the last two weeks." He took a seat, peering up at me with familiar eyes.

He had Calliope's eyes. Or rather, you had his eyes.

"Yes sir. My apologies, it will not happen again."

"No it will not, for if you continue in this fashion, I will not only have to demote you, but I will also be forced to send you away. That is not something I take lightly, especially with you. I think of you in the highest of regards. You have come to be one of my greatest soldiers, and I won't let you squander that. Think of what happened to your family, Ambrose. Remember who you fight for. Remember why you joined us." My jaw tensed at the mention of my family, but I said nothing.