Chapter 163 - Seven

XVII.

Gaius, with some effort managed to squeeze into the tiny carriage. Inside, his head grazed against the low ceiling, and his wide shoulders bumped against the curtained window and Saladin, seated beside him.

"I won't keep you long," Saladin said, with a chuckle. 

"I can see you're uncomfortable."

Gaius grunted. 'Uncomfortable' didn't even begin to scratch the surface.

Saladin gave the order to his chauffeur, and the  carriage took off, rumbling along the sun-bleached cobblestone streets.

Once the Romans' center of power in the region, Augustina was a city long past its prime. Despite once being a center of power in the region, nowadays it was a crime-ridden cesspit with broken roads that teamed with garbage, and all manner of human filth. Things may have improved somewhat after the Ishtari reclaimed the city from the Ankh, yet Gaius and Saladin both could still see many of the same old cracks were still there from since they were boys.

"The young people look up to the gladiators," Gaius said. "Most boys want to become one when they are of age, but only a few make the cut." 

Through the crowds of pedestrians he could pick out a man lying in a pathetic heap on the street, his hair and skin caked with dirt, and flies buzzing around his head. Either dead, or just sleeping, he couldn't tell. Just one of many lost souls Gaius could pick out, the longer he looked.

"For those that can't, life is the same as always."

"Just as we had to endure as children," Saladin interjected. "It's what made us strong."

Gaius shook his head.

"In many ways, we were the lucky ones."

"Your heart is heavy, friend," Saladin said, resting a ring-studded hand on Gaius's arm. "I understand your desire to do more, but it's not as if you've forgotten where you're from! I mean, for all that you do already--"

"Hmm," Gaius grunted, cutting him off. "It's still not enough. It can never be enough."

He couldn't see it at that angle, but Saladin at that moment had unveiled another one of his suspicious smirks.

"Which comes back to why I have you here."

Gaius tensed, his hands instinctively forming into fists. Before even beginning to hear the details, he knew what to expect. He knew his old friend wouldn't be calling on him if it was just any old job. Something needed killing, and fast. And if there was something Gaius was known for, it was precisely that kind of work.

He looked at Saladin with a sudden intensity, like he would when facing an opponent in the Colosseum. 

"I need to make a stop somewhere, first."

The carriage made it all the way out to the rural hills outside of town, where all the roads were dirt roads. Its stop was one of the countless plantation villas that populated the region, known for its olive production.

It was nearly sundown, so he knew everyone must be getting ready for dinner.

Just as he opened the door, however, he was surprised by a tidal wave of children that instantly came crashing down on him – achieving something that not even the finest of gladiators in the Colosseum could, by knocking down the giant.

And for a moment, it was as if all of Gaius's troubles washed away. 

He laughed his hearty laugh while the children climbed all over him like a pack of puppy dogs -- greeting him, asking how his day went, begging to learn the details about his battles that day.

Nadia appeared from out of the kitchen, a dripping ladle still in hand.

"You're late," she teased. "And still not dead." 

Nadia was about to say something else, but stopped short when she saw a brief flicker of something different about this scene. A subtlety that only she could have picked up, in a certain way Gaius fidgeted his mouth. Like he was slowly grinding his teeth.

"Gaius?" She leaned toward him. 

Gaius looked at her, still maintaining his warm smile, but with eyes glazed over. Distant.

"I need you to watch over the house," he said..

"What!?" Nadia bristled, crossing her arms indignantly. "Gaius, I don't know what's going on in that big, muscly head of yours, but with how tough things have been lately, with the crops--"

"I have to go somewhere. For a job." 

Nadia was taken aback.

Gaius procured the bag of coin he'd won at the arena and handed it to her -- it would have to be enough to hold things over, atop their earnings from dwindling crop sales, until he returned.

Nadia accepted it, with a sigh.

"If you don't want to tell me, that's fine."

Gaius was getting old, and they both knew it. With the growing strain on his body, it was only a matter of time until the Unbreakable would finally fall, and his career at the Colosseum would be over. 

For Gaius, this job was his out. His final break. 

Even if it meant dredging things up from his past, that he'd rather keep buried...

XVIII.

Typhon wove through the throngs of slow-moving gentlemen and gentle ladies like a dancing shadow. Feeling his stomach rumble, he swiped a pair of apples from a fruit stall and then a slice of bread from a bakery. For how easy it was, he got the feeling that the people of Khadezmust not have been accustomed to thieves roaming about. Not like in the smaller hovels and villages, where shopkeepers always had a mean look to them and a good, sharp knife handy, ready to take off a few fingers in one clean motion. 

The last thing Typhon picked up was a pair of shoes for El, then a pair of hooded cloaks for them both, thinking they would make for a good disguise.

With a conspicuously bulging bag on hand, whenever one of the army processions passed by in the street the hairs on the back of his head would stand up, and it got him into wondering how El would fare if they were to ever separate, or if something happened to him. She just seemed so...innocent, and helpless. Like she always needed someone to protect her.

Typhon froze, spotting some of his father's men walking up the street, toward him. He quickly ducked into a darkened alley nearby, and waited until they passed.

It's easy to forget how dangerous it is for us here.

When he returned to the clock tower, his nerves exhausted from several more close encounters with his father's men,  he was startled to see Eugene, the clock tower man, there in the 'gearbox' talking to El.

Typhon rushed forward. "El!"

"Woah!" Eugene said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I was just telling her a story." 

Typhon looked to El expectantly. "Really?"

El nodded.."He said...there are others, like me."

"I used to see others of  her kind soaring across the sky all the time," Eugene explained. "From up in this very clock tower."

"I always thought of them as...angels."

Angels. It brought to Typhon's mind the stories his mother used to tell him. Stories about a God who created the heavens and the earth, and his legion of winged messengers that only appeared to either very good, or very, very bad people. How for a brief time, he was even so afraid of the idea of one day meeting one, that he would try extra hard to not misbehave -- even in just minor ways like telling lies, or not doing chores on time.

Thinking about those old stories now, he saw El under a completely new light.

"Are you really an angel, El?"

El smiled sheepishly, feeling both of their scrutinizing gazes upon her.

"I...don't know anything about that..."

For as far back as she could remember, she had always simply been called 'El,' and nothing more.

Eugene took Typhon aside.

This time his expression was more serious, as he adjusted his glasses.

"Young man, I would advise you both to be careful." Eugene said sternly, making sure El wasn't listening before drawing Typhon closer, to continue in a hushed whisper. "Don't let anyone get to thinking there's anything...strange about her...alright?"

Typhon nodded, sensing the severity behind his words. 

"I swear...I won't let anyone hurt her."

Eugene smiled at such brave words, like something the hero in one of the stories he'd read would say.

On a sadder note, he could tell the boy was restless to depart, and that he'd probably never see either of them again -- leaving him to only speculate endlessly about their ultimate fates.

It's been a while, since one of them last flew by.

Those beautiful angels.

Snapping out of his daze, he quickly handed Typhon some money from his pocket.

"I'm not entirely sure what the story is between you two, or how you managed to get hold of all that stuff you brought back, but it looks like your girlfriend could use a new set of clothes."

"Girlfriend?" Typhon blurted out loud.

Having heard the outburst, El's gaze snapped to him. But predictably, she appeared to be totally oblivious. That's when Typhon first realized, with all else that had transpired up to that point, that she was still dressed in only slave rags.

"She really depends on you, doesn't she?" Eugene said.

Typhon nodded. "Almost like a newborn."

In a way, it was terrifying. Because now, any slip-ups on his part wouldn't hurt just him.

Eugene smiled, patting his shoulder..

"Best you get going now. Iit's busy enough in town, this time of day, that you can hide in the crowds from the bad folks that are after you."

Typhon nodded slowly -- he's right, but how does he know this?

He faced Eugene.

"What's your story anyway, old man?"

But Eugene only shrugged.. I just ring the bell.