Chapter 22: All Falls Down

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A/N: Thanks to everyone that has read up to this point. There are only a couple more chapters left before the story wraps up. Let me know what you think by leaving a comment. 

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My knees buckled just as my feet crunched the hard dirt. I stared at the domus set only a few steps from the road. I was finally home. But the walk inside would feel like an eternity. The painted walls of the hallway were awake with mythical beings, stories I long forgotten. Waiting in the atrium, was Apollus sitting on a marble throne facing the pool of water. Evening light illuminated his pristine face.

"You finally came back to your senses." The words were sharp like knives, made to cut into my emotions. I ignored him, meeting his icy stare with annoyance. Waiting in the foyer was the slave girl that tended to me. She ran up to embrace me.

"We missed you, Troy. Where did you go?" she said with angst coloring her voice.

"I stayed with a friend. You do not have to worry about me. I was in good hands," I said. Just as the words left my mouth, I felt her hands tighten around my lower waist. I never remembered being this close to anyone. Not even Priscilla. Not that it bothered me. For a moment I let her cling to me before the reason of my visit prevailed.

I broke the silence. "Where is grandfather?" My voice must have come off more assertive than she expected because her hands dropped limply to her side.

Her voice was as quiet as the dormice I would sometimes have for dinner. "Miletus is in his sleeping quarters. He has been waiting for you," she answered, beckoning to the right wing. I did not wait a moment longer. I was gone.

Lying propped on a stack of pillows was the frail profile of a man. A female nurse fluffed his pillow before letting his head sink into the cushion. After it was to his liking she helped turned him over on his back. I was startled at how much he aged in just a few days. Usually his face was bright and full of life but today it resembled more like a wrinkled prune. I stood there watching him lay back on the pillow, staring at the ceiling with a vacant look to his dull brown-green eyes. Even his pallor took on a sickly touch of green.

I tried to maintain a stoic look on my face. The one Barbarius often wore. But my voice tremored the moment the words spilled out, "Grandfather. " He stirred in the sheets. "Can you hear me?" I asked trying to steady my voice. He responded with a weak smile that lit up his weathered face. I placed my hand in his open palm. His hands closed over mine. Just then footsteps entered in. I turned to meet the face of father and Barbarius for the first time since I ran off. Father pretended I did not exist as he walked by grandfather's bedside without saying a word. Barbarius looked my direction but stood off a few feet from the bed. I pried my hands from grandfather's skeletal ones.

I crossed to where Barbarius stood, who stood motionless like the many statues placed around the living spaces. "I heard the bad news," I said hoping to get Barbarius to at least acknowledge me.

"You heard correct," he responded stiffly.

"What has happened since I left?" I inquired. Barbarius merely shrugged his shoulders.

"What do you mean 'this,'?" I asked, mocking his gesture.

"You should have been here sooner," Barbarius said coolly.

"I know. I wanted to, but—"

"But what?" Barbarius interjected.

"I was still mad at everyone for keeping the truth from me. But I am here now to make things right. That is what matters," I said.

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