Automata Romana

Chapter 11: Swelter

Terror, determination and pain. These were things that in this moment Hadrian knew quite well. The pain of a saddle-less horse ride, of a relentless sun. The terror of being chased by a dozen armed men, and the determination to stay far out of their reach.

To that end Hadrian had been pushing the horse past what one could reasonably expect of such a creature, his demands that it maintain top speed so continuous and forceful that they themselves were tiring. After what felt like hours, Hadrian suddenly felt himself flying through the air. Time slowed to a crawl as his life, from the faintest memories of his parents to what he ate for breakfast that day, flashed before his eyes. His mouth filled with sand as he hit the ground, looking up to see the horse running away in the opposite direction. He spat out the sand, his mouth now bone dry and teeth scratched-up. He tried to get up, but the will could not be mustered. And so he laid there for a few hours, letting the setting sun scorch his skin and boil his blood. Day turned to night as the ever-present heat became an unforgiving cold. He grabbed a handful of assorted grains, fungi and sand from his pocket and gulped it down in a vain attempt to sate his hunger. He needed a drink.

Fortunately, he was right at home. Years ago, back when he first met Kiya. Shortly after his arrival in Aegypt, he was captured by slave traders and put back on the market. He found himself picked up by a man named Alexios. The man seemed nice enough but he wouldn't stop talking about the issues hes been having with his son, the recent death of his wife, and generally topics that seemed to Hadrian far too personal for a carriage ride home from the slave market. The awkward air was, somehow, immediately diffused when he opened the door to the estate and was immediately granted a pleasant greeting by Kiya, who was holding a newborn wrapped in cloth. He hadn't been in Aegypt all too long, and though the journey here was difficult he was excited to see the people already seemed to be of a much higher quality. Prettier, yes, but also kinder. More respectful.

Hadrian was in Rome, some further years back. Normally the grandeur of the halls would be a sight to behold, the statue of Mars given eager praise. But he didn't know how to feel admiration for beauty or glory. He knew fear and pain. It was his least favourite time of day and he wanted no part in it. Hiding behind the statue of a war god, he knew it was only time before he was found. He felt something new, determination. He needed to run.


     "Run!"

A woman was yelling at a small child. It was hard to tell what was going on, but the child quickly disappeared and the woman turned to face Hadrian. Trying to reach out to him with a smile, she was stopped when a man of red and iron impaled her with a spear of some kind. Coughing up blood, the woman slumped over. Hadrian, bound in blankets, couldn't do much.

And so he chose to give up, at least for a little bit. He hadn't the slightest clue how long he'd been walking for, but it was clear that he was lost. He fell to the ground and curled up like an infant, covering what skin he could with sand, satchel bag and tunic. Hadrian, bound by the sun, couldn't do much.

He felt very cold. Figuring this meant he would die soon, he resolved to say his final rights. He begged the gods to bring him someplace nice, and to take care of the people he was giving up on. He then received a swift kick to the side.

     "W-why?" coughed a shaking, out of breath Hadrian.

     "This isn't the place for you. Get on your feet." said a familiar voice.

Hadrian mustered what strength he could, and with the help of his assailant pulling him by his arm he sat up. Lifting the putrid smelling bag from his head, he took a deep breath. He enjoyed the fresh air, admired the beauty of the moon, and recognized the face of the mysterious figure.

     "Alexios?" said Hadrian, puzzled.

     "Who else could I be?" stated Alexios in mock offence.

     "One of the gods could have taken your form in an effort towards approachability. I-im not too sure what they would want with me, but it's as likely as anything. As last I recall you have died." rambled Hadrian.

     "Ha HA! I can assure you, I am me. Simply came round for a visit." Alexios chuckled. "It's nice to see you."

     "Nice to see you too. Terrible shame that you have to see me in such a sorry state." replied Hadrian.

     "I was getting around to that, actually." replied Alexios in turn. "I must say Hadrian, I'm terribly disappointed. You are curled up like an infant, covered in vomit and eating sand in a foul smelling satchel. Get up."

At first, Hadrian listened to instruction and slowly arose, throwing the satchel to the side and sitting up. But then he paused. Turning to Alexios, he spoke but one word.

     "No."

     "Pardon?" questioned the apparition.

     "You had your years with me as your property. I won't let a corpse order me around" countered Hadrian.

     "My boy..." began Alexios, before being interrupted by Hadrian.

     "Shut up. Just shut up. I'm a man, not a boy. You are... you were just some old bastard who purchased me. No different to any of the people that made me a whore for the elite back in rome."

     "Hadrian. We both very well know you've essentially been my son. Not by blood like Alexander, but in a much more real sense." Alexios said, trying to lay his hand on Hadrian's shoulder. Hadrian responded by angrily swatting Alexios, his hand passing through the ghostly form.

     "I wont say this again." Hadrian sighed. "It is absolute truth that you purchased me."

     "So?" countered Alexios. "Adoption isn't any different. You go to people, you give them money, and they give you a child."

     "Adoption isn't on an open-air stage next to a stall of dried fucking fish!" Hadrian screamed into a moonlit night, his voice echoing across the sand and sky. 

     "Slap a trout on an adoption agents desk and open the window, is it now evil?" 

     "Are you stupid, or just cruel? Do you know how it feels to be owned, to be property? Of course, it's pointless to ask, you obviously don't..." He trailed off, again out of breath.

     "Hadrian." Alexios replied, sitting down. "It's ok."

Hadrian fell forward, head pressed against a fine silk cloak, the very same that he had been made to purchase for Alexios just a few days prior. He began to cry.

     "You're right, Hadrian. I didn't know. And I couldn't have known. Regardless, I hope you understand that I always loved you. I might have never been a perfect person. I have, intentionally or not, hurt you. And you don't need to make excuses for that. But I was your father and I loved you! I do love you! And if I'm around or if I'm gone, may you carry that with you always." asserted Alexios.

Hadrian's weeping grew in intensity, coming to a loud wail. His arms held on to Alexios with every ounce of strength he had, and Alexios held him back. Exhausted, Hadrian slowly quieted, drifting off to sleep. The last thing in his conscious thought being the words "Stay strong, my boy. I love you."

Hadrian awoke. He felt as if his blood were soon to boil, his skin to char. The night had passed and he had came to under yet another brutal day. 

     "It was nice," he thought out loud, voice to the heavens, "to get one last visit before I pass on. But alas, the situation remains dire. How exactly am I to save myself?" Hadrian looked forward, scanning the horizon. He focused on a dot, which appeared to grow the longer he stared at it. Initially thinking it to be a trick of the light, he abandoned all doubt when he recognized a voice.

     "HADRIAN!" shouted the roaring cloud of smoke, fire and sand. The thing which contained the exasperated voice was travelling towards Hadrian at incredible speed, matching that of the fastest racehorses this side of the empire. As it approached near, it showed little sign of slowing down. Hadrian ran to the side, barely avoiding pulverisation as the great beast screeched to a halt. Before Hadrian now lay a chariot, with massive bronze paddles instead of horses and seating apparently within a solid shell of bronze. A tube stuck out high above the abominable contraption, facing the forward direction.

Doors on the backside flung open, from which stepped out Heron.

     "Hadrian! It's been a while!"