Page 24 of I Will Always Find You
“The red-haired youth was dressed in a simple knee-length white tunic secured by a functional, unadorned belt. The only intriguing detail about his garment was a pear-shaped dagger that hung from the belt, fastened with a leather loop keeper. The weapon’s hilt was embellished with Egyptian symbols, including falcons and serpents.
“Unlike his tormentors, the foreign-looking youth did not exude an air of conceit or aggression. What Cassander found odd was that the fellow showed neither fear nor defiance, even when one of the older boys shoved him. It was unclear to the Romani youth whether the exotic-looking boy intended to run away or stand his ground. That he was severely outnumbered, however, was a fact!
“Now, Cassander hated tyrants, but he could hear his parents’ voices echoing inside his mind, telling him to keep his own company and leave the red-haired boy to his fate. However, his grandmother’s voice, which always resonated with warmth and strength, also lived inside his head and drowned out all that.
“She often told him he bore a sacred duty to wield his mystic abilities to serve those in need. Cassander understood hisparents meant well with their apathy, only trying to keep their son safe, but in his heart, he knew they were wrong—it was wrong—to look the other way.
“Cassander was born with a great capacity to wield magic, the first male of his bloodline to ever be blessed with this gift. From a young age, his grandmother had taught him to wield his people’s magic to assist, heal, and defend himself and his community. The weight of empathy hung heavy in the air, urging him to act with compassion rather than indifference.
“And so he did act. If the red-haired boy would not defend himself, then a Romani mystic would aid him! So, with a few well-directed spells taught to him by his grandmother, Cassander cursed the bullies with bad luck.
“Market carts began to break apart, flooding the street with fish, fruits, and vegetables, causing a few of the tormentors to trip over their feet and fall hard. From above, large chunks of housing broke off. The pieces crashed down upon the heads of the remaining arrogant fools, all shouting in confusion and pain.
“‘Come with me,’ Cassander called out, ‘now!’ He extended his hand forward, gesturing for the confused red-haired boy to take it.
“With little thought, driven by instinct, perhaps even a compulsion, the red-haired youth ran toward the excitable Romani stranger with the dark hair and mysterious eyes, and grabbed his hand. Together, they sprinted toward the city entrance, passing through the large open wooden doors and the unconcerned guards, making their way toward Vesuvius, which was not far off.
“The earth beneath the boys’ feet felt alive to them as they ran, hands tightly clasped. Their laughter echoed through the air as they approached the great mountain, its majestic peak rising high against the vibrant blue sky.
“When they reached the foot of Vesuvius, the two boys collapsed on the ground, out of breath. Each stared into the eyes of the other, and at that moment, it was as though they were peering into one another’s souls. What they found reflected back at them was a profound sense of shared loneliness, an unspoken yearning for friendship, and an aching desire for trust that hung in the space between them like the weight of the mountain above.
“The first to speak was the red-haired boy, who introduced himself as Anestis. Thanking his saviour and new friend, he asked how he had rigged those mishaps to occur.
“Uneasy with revealing his true nature as a w—as a mystic, Cassander shrugged and deflected the question with one of his own.”
The Romani witch caught himself and quickly replaced the word “witch” with “mystic,” unsure of how his audience would react to the former. Discussing magic, sorcery, and mysticism from the ancient days of gods and demigods was one thing, but witches had been so maligned over the centuries by the Church that the very word carried a heavy stigma. Even considering the recent events in the town and how accepting these people were of magical outsiders, the Romani witch believed presenting his story as more fanciful was less incendiary.
“After giving his name, Cassander asked Anestis how an Egyptian had come to be in Pompeii, a city that held such hostility toward foreigners.
“Anestis smiled knowingly, fully aware his new friend had avoided answering his question. Suspecting the mystical nature of the answer, he chose not to press further, allowing Cassander to reveal himself in his own time.
“Instead, he stated that he was the son of a senior centurion, a well-respected career soldier in the Roman legion. His grandfather had fought at the Battle of Actium alongsideMarcus Agrippa when Rome annexed Egypt—which Anestis said his mother called Kemet—and made it an imperial province. Anestis’ father had not been home in over two years, always off fighting in some skirmish or another.
“Anestis’ exotic appearance was inherited from his beautiful mother, an Egyptian woman his father met during an early military tour in Alexandria. They fell in love and married despite the strong objections of his father’s Pompeian family, but, being the firstborn son, his father did as he pleased.
“Anestis and his foreign-born mother lived comfortably due to his father’s wealth. However, neither of them received acceptance or warmth from anyone on his father’s side, especially as they all openly hated his red hair, thinking it a bad omen, a sign of wickedness. Most of Pompeii tolerated them at best.
“This was a sentiment that the Romani boy understood all too well. He heard the nasty whispers and sensed the sideways glances, the subtle shift in the atmosphere whenever he entered the city, as if the air grew heavy with unspoken judgments and wariness. The Pompeians showed an uneasy tolerance of the Romani family, who had set up a permanent camp outside the city walls; their disdain was ever etched on their faces.
“Cassander and Anestis got off the ground and embraced each other, the Romani boy telling the half-Egyptian he very much liked his uncommon red hair. An affection quickly grew between them, filling the spaces in their hearts that had long felt hollow. A profound friendship was forged in this moment through laughter, a few shared secrets, and an unspoken understanding of who they were as fellow outsiders.
“Still, the Romani boy had yet to discover one of Anestis’ most well-guarded secrets. But he soon would.”
The Romani witch snickered, knowing the secret of Aeneas’ magic that he would soon reveal through the fictional characterAnestis. He did fear it might cause a stir, but he was prepared for it.
“But all was not to remain tranquil for the two new companions,” the Romani witch loudly declared, his head moving back and forth among the beguiled crowd, staring into their tense faces. “What Cassander had ignored, or perhaps innocently forgotten, though neither reason mitigated consequence, was the most important tenet of magic. It is the first lesson taught to all who seek to wield mystical power. And do you know what that tenet is, my friends?”
Though many in the audience shook their heads in confusion, there were just as many who nodded, their faces solemn and grim.
“All magic comes with a price to be paid! And to employ the darker side of sorcery, like curses, even for a good cause, carried a higher cost than most, especially to one as young as Cassander, who lacked experience in properly wielding such dark spellwork.
“What the two youths could not have known was that below the very ground they stood upon, at the base of Vesuvius, buried deep in the mountain’s fertile earth and asleep for centuries, lay one of the many offspring of—”
Once more, the Romani witch took a moment to create a dramatic pause.
“—the Erymanthian Boar!”
Anastasios, Nicholas, Astraia, and everyone else within earshot gasped in shock when the beast was named.
