A soldier with short black curls that grazed reddish skin approached him, unlocking his shackles. He lifted the boy over his shoulders, climbing with him out of the hold. The boy clenched his eyes shut against the blinding sunlight, helpless as he was tossed to the ground. Dizziness overwhelmed him from the long weeks aboard a rocking ship, and he tried to calm his nausea as he struggled to find his bearings.
Another man barked orders at him, but he was unable to follow his commands. He kicked him in frustration, the boy unable to hold back his vomit. The man who had lifted him from his prison snapped at the abuser, hoisting the boy up in his arms once more. In them, the boy was finally able to wrench his eyes open, observing the land that stretched out around them. Their ship had been docked at a port swarming with Romans, some dressed in warrior attire, others clad in tunics similar to those of his own people. His eyes focused on a group of his kin now, moaning pitifully in the sand, their skin split by gaping sores, with atrophied limbs unable to erect them. He searched their faces frantically, but they were all unfamiliar. It then occurred to him that they were all men—not one woman nor child had been spared.
Rage boiled inside him. He heard his mother’s cries as she was slain, recalling the pain in his father's eyes. Fury reverberated throughout his body, its power strengthening his limbs. He twisted himself free from his startled captor, who had no choice but to drop him onto the sand below. He scrambled to retrieve him before he was halted by the boy’s demeanor. The man took a careful step back, fear streaked across his face. The boy reveled in the newfound intensity overtaking his body, his hands suddenly pulsating with heat. He reached up to the sky, words coming from somewhere he could not place as he screamed up to the heavens, “I summon you, Morrigan, the Nemain! I summon you to this horrid place! Avenge the murderer of your sisters, show them your fury, for it is my will and so it shall be!”
The sky acquiesced immediately to his cries, blackening out the clear brilliance of morning, wrathful thunder bellowing in the distance. Ominous storm clouds blotted out the sun as the Romans who stood on the shoreline darted for shelter. The eyes of the boy’s captor widened as he stared at the sinister sky, the raucous thunder rolling closer.
A shrill screech pierced the air, men dispersing with their hands clamped over their ears. The soldier turned his terrified gaze back towards the boy, who was breathlessly observing the scene that unfolded before him. “You…”
The boy tried to scramble to his feet in the sand, but found he was only able to scuttle backwards from the shore. The ocean had transformed into a churning cesspool of waves, tossing the docked ships with violent ease. They crashed into each other with such force that their fine construction split apart like kindling. The skies parted to reveal a colossal creature soaring towards them, black and hideously misshapen. The shrieking grew louder as the creature approached, men falling to their knees in horror.
“The Morrigan,” the boy whispered in awe.
He watched as the great shape suddenly ruptured, shattering into thousands of carrion crows. They swooped down to attack, tearing at the flesh of the petrified Romans as they screamed.
The boy watched, motionless, able to witness a second coming of the butchery that had transpired within the hold of the ship. He continued to scoot himself backwards until he reached a cove that obstructed him from open view. The man who had offered him aid died quickly, unlike the other soldiers who were slowly torn apart by the voracious birds. The scene before him was horrific, yet the boy could not contain his amazement. She was magnificent.
He could have watched her for hours, but soon the ravens ceased their slaughter, coming back together again. Their slender black bodies danced in a spiral before merging back into a familiar amalgamation, the Morrigan standing before him in human form.
He smiled at her, recognizing the woman from the ship.
He could see her clearly now, learning her actual features were nothing like his mother’s, as he had once hoped. Her lovely face was worn with age, but her eyes were a brilliant, icy blue. Black coils of hair streaked with white tumbled freely down her shoulders. Her entire body was smeared in blood. Ghastly, but undoubtedly resplendent.
She returned his look of recognition with a gentle wave of her fingers before dissolving once more into her flock of crows. They soared back to the skies, parting the dissipating storm clouds before finally disappearing beyond the horizon. The wind and waters grew still.
A pang of sorrow descended upon him as he realized it was her final departure. But he had no time to lament, for he was struck by the magnitude of his exhaustion and he collapsed into the sand, powerless to prevent it.
The next morning, he awoke, discovering that at last, his limbs could move. He decided to explore, hoping to find something to eat. Before setting out, he lifted the least soiled garment from one of the expired bodies onshore, fitting it as best he could about his famished body. The tunic shifted uncomfortably around him now as he walked, the heat from the sweltering sun pouring down on him from above.
The boy had never seen anything quite like the civilization that he soon reached. People hurried about in clean white robes, their bare feet protected by curiously fashioned straps of leather. Their hair was kept short and neat in tight ebony curls that barely fell past their tan foreheads. Giant structures of smooth, polished stone stretched above him in every direction, as metal harnessed horses strolled past, pulling carts on iron wheels. The ground beneath his bare feet was also smooth, laid entirely with flat rocks. He saw no sign of greenery, for he realized the city was devoid of any natural landscape, save for the granite fountains positioned at every street corner that sputtered out fresh water.
A wave of lightheadedness washed over him, but he tried to remain steady on his feet. He looked around for anything he could use for nourishment, acutely aware he was in some sort of marketplace. Romans exchanged hurried words around him, handing over metal coins so they could fill their baskets with food. The aroma of fresh bread and salted meat reached his nose, rendering him completely ravenous. He searched frantically for an unattended cart to steal from, nearly colliding with a burly man who snapped at him in surprise. He quickly dodged him, weaving through the horde of people until at last he found a cart with no vendor in sight, lined with flat discs of bread. He crept up to it, reaching out to snatch what he could.
A hand clasped around his wrist.
He looked up to see a young girl, not much older than he, with frantic eyes. She hissed words at him that he could not understand. From behind her, the burly man he had run into reappeared. He scowled, pointing at the boy with a fat, accusatory finger.
The boy was helpless as the girl rose to his defense, quickly offering an explanation while pressing several coins into the man’s palm. He glowered at them both, but accepted the payment, placing three bread discs into her basket. She nodded gratefully, grabbing the boy by his arm and swiftly leading him away.
When they were safely out of sight, she stopped, releasing his arm. She frowned, placing her free hand at her hips. The boy was immediately struck by the beauty of her pale, delicate features. Freckles dusted her narrow nose and rounded cheeks, her eyes a soft and earthy green. Golden hair with a hint of rose fell around shoulders that held up a simply cut tunic, draped loosely over her. He knew she demanded something from him, but he could not understand her words.
He stared wistfully at the bread in her basket. “Please,” he whispered. “I am so hungry.”
She stiffened in surprise, her moss-colored eyes widening. “You speak the old tongue?” she whispered back in words he could understand.
Relief flooded over him. “Yes! Yes … oh please, I am almost faint with hunger.”
She snapped out of her shock, swiftly handing over the food.
He grabbed a disc from her, shoveling it into his mouth unapologetically. She looked around nervously before leading him to a covered bench, an area that offered them a little privacy from the busy market. She handed him another, that he devoured as quickly as the first. She waited for him to finish the final piece of bread before she procured a small clay drinking bowl from a nearby fountain, filling it to the brim with water. Appreciative, he swallowed it down, the shock of nourishment both nauseating and satiating him in paradoxical unison.
Finally, she spoke. “How did you come to be here?” she asked.
He was still breathless from his hurried feeding, his now full stomach spasming with confusion. He took a deep breath and wiped the crumbs away from his lips before replying, “They brought me here. My village was destroyed.”
She nodded solemnly, her eyes soft. “Mine was as well. Have you already been sold?”
The boy shook his head. “They destroyed my people, so I destroyed them.”
A tiny gasp of realization escaped from her lips. “It was you—the massacre yesterday morning. We thought it was a message from the gods. No one has been brave enough yet to move all the bodies. They say the corpses have been picked clean.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “You did that?”
He cast his eyes down, suddenly ashamed. “I do not know how, but I believe so.”
“The old gods protect us still,” she said, surprising him with her understanding. She looked down at her empty basket. “I need to find a way to replenish this food. I work for a man named Eridus, who sent me here to gather bread for this evening’s supper. I still have much more to purchase.”
“I – I am sorry,” the boy offered, awkwardly.
She shook her head firmly. “No, please do not apologize. What kind of soul would I be if I let one of my own people starve to death in the streets? They would have killed you had you been caught stealing. You should come with me. Traveling alone would not be wise right now, especially in light of yesterday’s events. We shall pretend you are a fellow slave of Eridus’s. When we are finished, I will figure out how to provide you shelter. Come.” She stood, offering him her hand, her long and slender limbs giving her a statuesque appearance. Again, he was struck by her beauty, a sensation that caused him to feel hopelessly small and inadequate.
Nevertheless, he followed her through the market, grateful that the citizens of Rome paid him little mind. He helped her gather food he had never seen before, things she called olives, goat cheese, and unleavened bread. His hunger pains had subsided, yet he could not help but crave a taste of the brightly assorted goods throughout the marketplace. He tried to focus on the little sprite before him as she navigated through it, skillfully haggling with vendors until her basket grew full.
She conversed with him throughout their excursion, catching herself as she drifted between the language of the Romans, Latin, and their own native tongue. He learned that her village was not far from his, yet closer to the river than the lush forests the Druids called home.
“I have lived with Eridus for many seasons. I am lucky, for he is kind and just, unlike many patrons here,” she explained. “Most of us labor in the vineyards, gathering the grapes to be washed, or in the press room, pressing the fruit into juice so it will ferment in the cellars. He considers me his personal servant, for he is secretly a eunuch, without a wife nor children, and I act as his companion when he goes out in public. I am also responsible for maintaining the slave quarters and alerting him to any of their needs. On occasion, I even assist with his business affairs.”
“You do a lot,” the boy remarked.
