The Personal History of Mr. Lucius Marcell - Part II

The Personal History of Mr. Lucius Marcell - Part II (Fire on the Mountain, in both a Metaphorical and very Literal Sense) Cindy had been Marcell’s TA for a few weeks now, and the position was surprisingly less weird than she’d anticipated. She made copies for him, helped him grade quizzes, boring things mostly; she could see why he wanted to sluff them off onto a TA. But she didn’t mind all that much. The company made it worth it. Marcell was quite unlike anyone Cindy had met. It was hard to put into words, the only way she could really think to put it was “honest.” He hid behind no walls and kept no deep secrets—barring the obvious, of course. This didn’t seem to be from any confidence or ego. More than anything, Marcell just seemed too tired to care. It was a little funny, sometimes, when he complained like an old geezer. “I swear, kids these days and those new portable telephones,” he shook his head one day. “I had to confiscate three of them today. Three!” “Is the ever-advancing march of technology leaving you in the dust, old man?” Cindy asked, glancing up from the quiz she was marking. “I’ll have you know that I’ve kept up just fine for the last two-thousand years.” Marcell narrowed his eyes. “I am the epitome of current.” “Uh huh. That sweater vest just screams ‘current’.” Marcell plopped down behind his desk, pouting. “My sweater vest is cool,” he insisted. “And don’t forget, I came from a time when togas were the height of fashion, so cut me some slack.” “Speaking of togas,” Cindy leaned forward, putting on her best resting bitch face, “are you ever going to continue your story? You promised me Pompeii, you know.” “I did, didn’t I?” Marcell’s face dropped a little. “I was sort of hoping you’d forget. It’s not a very pleasant story.” Shrugging, Cindy stared back at him. “Life isn’t pleasant. I’m not here for sunshine and rainbows.” He laughed. “You’re a rather, strange person, you know that?” “Speak for yourself,” she raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” “Most people your age aren’t so... objective.” Cindy made a face. “I’m not like most people my age. Now: the story. Pompeii?” “Yes, yes, of course,” he said, but he still examined her for a second longer before continuing. “Pompeii, Pompeii, where to start? Pompeii was... different from Rome. It was a pretty small town, actually, at least compared to Rome. There was plenty of hustle and bustle, of course, but it was a much... slower city. I liked that. The first time I visited I was studying the volcano, Vesuvius, as you should know, and I enjoyed the town so much that I eventually bought a house there.” “So what was it like? The city?” Cindy specified. “Most everything was made of stone,” Marcell continued, “from the buildings to the well-worn streets. But it was far from drab. Many people hung bright awnings from their facades, and the shops and taverns were all open out onto the streets. There was also a lot of very colorful graffiti all over the walls.” Laughing, Cindy snorted. “Graffiti? In Ancient Rome?” “Well, yes,” he chuckled along. “What, you thought it a modern invention? People have always been bored. Some of it was your basic ‘Titus was here,’ but I remember a specific case at the back of a tavern. Oh what was it?” Marcell glanced upwards. “Oh, yes: ‘Cicero does shit as the rest of us do.’” They both began to laugh louder, Cindy almost falling off her chair. “Wow, that’s, I never imagined, but yeah I guess that makes sense.” “What does?” “Just that toilet humor isn’t a modern concept.” Cindy shrugged. “Like, it’s hard to imagine a guy in a toga farting, you know?” “Time dulls knowledge,” Marcell said sagely. “I can imagine the smell of the city just thinking about it.” “Was it that bad?” "Worse," he grimaced. “Not only were most people tossing their waste into the street, but add in the horses and carts and other things and... ugh.” Marcell shuttered. “At the time is was just daily life, but looking back on it, I don’t know how I stood it.” Cindy gasped dramatically. “Are you in danger of being Modernized, old man?” Though he tried to look annoyed, Marcell couldn’t help grinning a little. “Shut up.” “So, Pompeii,” Cindy redirected, “colorful, raunchy, and smelly.” “For the most part. But it was just like any city,” Marcell continued. “It had its nice parts too. If you were rich, you could have a large house, an ocean view, the works.” “And you were?” “Somewhere in between.” Marcell confirmed. “I wasn’t knee deep in shit, yet those ocean views were still a mere dream. Not that it mattered much, of course. I still travelled most of the time, but it was nice to have a place to come back to.” “So you lived alone, then?” Marcell shook his head. “Hardly anyone in Rome lived alone. I had... no, they weren’t slaves. I never bought them, and I never exercised the type of control slave owners held. I guess servants is a better word, though it still doesn’t really fit. A mother and a daughter, they were—Aurelia and Julia were their names. Aurelia had broken her foot several years before I met them, and it hadn’t healed correctly, so she couldn’t work. “I found the two of them on the street. Julia had been sick, and I decided to take them in. After Julia was better, we came to an arrangement: Aurelia and Julia would take care of the house, mostly while I was away, and I would provide a moderately comfortable life for the both of them.” “Okay, I feel less weird now,” Cindy admitted. “But I have a question. Why those two? I mean, there have to have been thousands of beggars in Rome.” Pausing, Marcell thought for a moment. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Just something about the sight of them in the gutter, it was... Julia’s eyes. She looked so scared, I think... I think she reminded me of myself I little. But, you wanted to hear about death and destruction, yes?” “I want to hear about some other things,” Cindy shrugged. “But mostly death and destruction, yes. So, were you there? When Vesuvius went boom?” She gestured vaguely with her hands. “Yes, I was,” Marcell nodded. “I had just returned from a trip to Gaul the night before. I mostly travelled when it was dark, for obvious reasons. But the city was far from dead. There was still the late crowd in the taverns, pinpricks of light and noise in the oceans of darkness that surrounded them, and of course carts with various goods and supplies trundled down the cobbled streets. They weren’t allowed in the city during the day for the most part, they never would have gotten anywhere with the amount of people in the streets anyway. “I rode through the city quickly on horseback, weary from travel and eager to return home. I’ll admit that I... never really adjusted fully to sleeping during the day.” “You don’t now.” Cindy scoffed. “Wait a minute: how do you get to school? Can’t the sun kill you?” Marcell nodded. “When I’m lucky, it’s cloudy. When it’s not, I wear a very big hat. But we’re getting off track.” He shook himself. “My home was not the biggest or grandest house by any means, but it was in a quiet part of town and just fine enough for me. “I rode around the back, and left the horse in the small stable before heading inside through the garden. Roman houses were built a little differently than their modern counterparts,” he stopped to explain. “The rooms weren’t quite so... differentiated, I guess you could say. I didn’t have a ‘living room’ or an ‘office.’ There was one big room called the atrium, and several smaller rooms off of that. And the atrium could be used for any number of things. You remember this from class, yes?” “I think so.” Cindy nodded. “It always confused me, but go on.” “The atrium was dark and empty; the lanterns had long since gone out, which was fine with me. It made sensing heat easier. Aurelia was in the kitchen, but my journey had been long. It would be safer for everyone if I... ate before seeing her. I had gained a reputation for having the most vermin free house in the city, and no one could quite figure out how I did it.” He laughed. “Afterwards, I went to check on Aurelia in the kitchen. By the light of the coals still burning in the hearth, I could see that she had fallen asleep, her slender frame draped over a counter. She tended to wait up for me when she knew I was coming home. I’d told her many times that she should just go to sleep, but she kept the habit anyway. “I pulled up a chair, and shook her gently. “‘Oh sir, you’re home.’ She smiled as she blinked awake. She had a very lovely smile. ‘Welcome back. You’ll want dinner, I suppose.’ I don’t need to eat, of course, but she had clearly put effort into the chicken on the coals so I humored her.” “She didn’t know you were a vampire?” Cindy asked. Shaking his head, Marcell seemed a little regretful. “It was right about that time that I was trying to figure out how to tell them. They’d been with me for several years, and it was going to become apparent very soon that I wasn’t aging as they were. But I could never find the right way to tell them. Of course I... I never got the chance.” He paused, and Cindy stayed quiet, giving him a moment. With a blink, he snapped himself out of whatever reverie he found himself in. “I asked her if Julia was asleep, and she nodded. “‘Yes, upstairs.’” “‘You should join her.’ “‘Thank you sir, I—‘ “But she didn’t finish, because just then the ground began to rumble beneath our feet. Dishes rattled, stones cracked. It only lasted for a minute, yet it felt like much longer. “‘What was that?’ I asked once it had finished. “Aurelia’s hand was to her chest. ‘Just another earthquake. Nothing to fear.’ “‘Another—?’

“‘Yes,’ she confirmed. ‘There have been several over the last few days. Not very large, but many people have been fleeing the city.’ “I shook my head. ‘Cowards.’” Cindy tried not to chuckle at the irony, and found it a challenge. “Then Julia popped her head through the kitchen door. She was about eight, and had long, curly brown hair, just like her mother. ‘Momma...’ “‘Yes, I’m coming. I think it’s time we all go to sleep.’ “I smiled when she glanced over at me. ‘I’ll be to bed in a few minutes. Go on.’ “She and Julia went up to bed, and after cleaning up from my supper, I retired to the library. Now, I was not the most affluent person in the city, as I’ve said, but I made space for all my books and scrolls. I was about, oh... a little over a hundred at that point, so most of them were my own notes from my travels, but some were from other scholars as well, many of whom I kept in contact with. I was particularly interested in the lost city of Atlantis.” “You were?” Cindy interjected. “I never would have guessed. It’s not like you spent have a semester going on and on about it or anything.” “Sarcasm is not becoming of a young lady,” he intoned. “Aw, shove it up your butt. Anyway, you were saying?” Marcell looked like he wanted to get the last word in, but let it go. “Right, Atlantis. I don’t know why it fascinated me so. Perhaps it was because contrary to popular belief, it was actually located off the coast of the British Isles. It made me feel a little closer to my old home, maybe.” “You sound like... like you’ve actually seen it,” Cindy said. Shrugging, Marcell smiled mysteriously. “Perhaps, but I think some secrets would do best to remain so for now. “Regardless, that night, I fell asleep on the noted that I was writing.” He paused, looking off into the distance. “If only I’d had a little more warning, I could have probably saved some of them. That was the last peaceful night I would have for quite a while.” “Because of the volcano...” Cindy added quietly. Marcell nodded. “The next thing I remembered, it was light, and someone was shaking me. I blinked, and saw Aurelia, looking panicked. Behind her, Julia was crying. “‘Wha’s wrong?’ I asked.

“‘Sir it’s... the mountain.’ She pointed to the small window on the far side of the room and I glanced towards it. Because it was so bright, I figured it was sunny out. But I was wrong. The sky was so filled with ash and dust that you couldn’t even see the sun. The light was coming from the fire that was falling from the sky, burning the buildings around us. Everywhere, everything was on fire. Vesuvius was erupting. “It was suicide, but we had to move. If we stayed here, we would be burned or buried alive. I wasn’t sure if even I could survive that. “‘Grab whatever you can.’ I commanded Aurelia. ‘Meet me by the back. We need to get to the water.’ “We were lucky. My house wasn’t too far away from the marine gate. I gathered up any papers I considered important, the hardest decision of my life. Many people had left most of their belongings, thinking to return once the tragedy had passed.” He shook his head. “But it was all lost. My library wasn’t the only one in Pompeii. So much knowledge that we’ll never get back. And that doesn’t even begin to cover the people.” “Haven’t archaeologists found a way to make plaster casts out of the impressions peoples’ bodies left in the rock or something like that?” Cindy asked. “Yes,” Marcell almost whispered. “But I haven’t dared look myself. I’m afraid I’ll... see someone I recognize.” He shook himself. “Anyway, Aurelia and I met in the atrium, and I hoisted Julia onto my back. The hardest part was leaving. We opened the door, and a wall of dust and fire awaited us. “I blinked, trying to find a path through the smothering gloom. But while I may have been able to last awhile amidst the torrent, Aurelia and Julia could not. I shifted Julia from my back to my arms in order to shield her from the heat, and at that moment, my eyes caught a shaded doorway half a block down the direction we were headed. “I grabbed Aurelia’s hand and we ran. The dust stung my face and throat, and my skin tingled from the light that breached the clouds. It took us longer than I would have liked, as Aurelia limped on her bad foot. But we made it. My chest burned from the dust I had taken in, and Aurelia heaved beside me. Julia was crying. “Aurelia took the child’s face between her hands and pressed their foreheads together. ‘It’s going to be alright.’ She was almost crying herself. “By this point, larger rocks had begun to fall as well. ‘We need to keep moving,’ I coughed out as the roof above us cracked ominously. “So we ran. We kept running for a long time, jumping from safe spot to safe spot. Increasingly around us, the buildings were crumbling or already destroyed. We were going far too slowly. But Aurelia was having trouble keeping up. As we crouched under a fallen column laying on the ruin of a shop, she held up a hand. “‘Wait! Please. I need a minute,’ she wheezed. “We didn’t have the time, but there was nothing else to do. I set Julia down and she immediately buried her face in her mother’s skirt. “For a minute, the only sounds were the crumbling city and Julia’s muffled sobs. I looked around, wondering briefly if this was all just some dream, or nightmare. It didn’t seem real. Just last night the city had been bustling, alive, and in twenty-four hours it had been transformed into a living hell. “‘Alright,’ Aurelia said finally. ‘I’m ready.’ “But just as we were about to move again, the ground began to rumble under us. The column began to shake. I picked up Julia who had begun to wheeze from the dust, and grabbed Aurelia’s hand. I tried to pull us all forward, but before all of us were clear, the marble came down. “For a moment I gripped Aurelia’s hand, so afraid to turn around. I could smell the blood, and my mouth watered, despite myself. Finally, I couldn’t stand there anymore. I turned back, and had to bite my tongue to keep from crying out. From the waist down, Aurelia had been completely crushed by the pillar. Julia screamed. All I could do was stare. “‘Lucius!’ she coughed through the blood dripping from her mouth. ‘Get Julia to safety.’ “‘I—’ “Julia was squirming in my arms, crying and coughing as she tried to get to her mother. Her coughing had gotten bad, there was dust and smoke everywhere. “‘Go. Don’t worry about me.’ There was fire in her eyes. She didn’t even seem to be in any pain. ‘Julia’s the only thing that matters.’” There was silence in the classroom. Marcell stared off towards the window. Cindy stared a hole into her lap. She didn’t know how long they sat there, before she was finally able to break away and ask: “So, what did you do?” “I ran,” he turned back to her. “She was right, of course. There was nothing I could do for her now, and Julia wasn’t going to last much longer in this dust. The child kicked and screamed, of course, begged me to turn around. ‘I’m sorry,’ was all I could say, over and over again. "I didn't stop for a moment, shielding Julia from the debris as best I could. My back and arms were singed from the burning dust and ash, and everywhere we looked were bodies, some half crushed, some burned beyond recognition. All of their faces were frozen in the final moments of terror that had surely befallen them. But none of that mattered now. The gate was finally in sight, the bay just beyond it. Behind us, the city was collapsing bit by bit, consumed by the flames. “There was a boat, a small, wooden one, tied to the docks. From the sheer number of bodies behind us, not many people had made it this far, so I took it. I doubted the owners were going to come for it anytime soon. Julia had long since stopped struggling, and didn’t do much more than moan as I lay her in the bottom of the boat and started rowing as the sky darkened to night around us. The only thing I could do now was get as far away from the city as possible. “Taking stock, I seemed fine besides a few burns, but Julia didn’t look well. She seemed to be having great trouble breathing, her small chest heaving in and out far too rapidly.” “What... happened to her?” Cindy asked quietly. “I’m not exactly sure, but I believe it was the dust,” Marcell grimaced. “It had coated her lungs, and was so hot that it had probably burned them. I was alright because I was a full-grown man and it does take an awful lot to kill me anyway. But Julia was an eight-year-old girl. “She lay there in the bottom of the boat, just trying to breathe. Her eyes were closed, yet I couldn’t tell if she was asleep or not. So I just kept rowing down the coast. It was the only thing I could do. Eventually the waters and the sky—from what I could see—calmed. I was so out of it that I didn’t even notice she was there until she had begun to speak.” Cindy blinked. “She? You... you mean Death, don’t you?” “‘Lovely night for a ride,’ she said, and I nearly jumped as I saw her milky, dead eyes just a few inches away from me. She sat calmly in the boat, as if it was a pleasant afternoon row. “‘What are you doing here?’ “She shrugged. ‘Oh, you know, just harvesting the souls of thousands of these poor bastards. Haha, I am so tired.’ “‘So go back to the city then, there’s plenty of dead there.’ “‘Ah, but I’m here for a very special soul.’ She grinned cruelly. Sometimes I think she takes special joy in hanging over my head. “I moved to shield Julia. I was untouchable now, of course, which left the child as the only thing in the vicinity that Death could take. ‘You stay away from her.’ “‘Too late,’ she shook her head. ‘That dust’s long since poisoned her lungs. I give her twenty-four hours at most. So tragic when the young ones are taken.’ Here smile did not make her seem wholly sincere. “‘Then what are you doing here now?’ “‘Torturing you more,’ she cackled. ‘No, more than anything I’m curious about what you’ll do. You see, I’m going to give you a choice. That girl is going to die, so you could leave her agony for a whole day, or you could end her life right now.’ “‘What kind of choice is that?’ “‘There is a third option, of course,’ she wheedled. ‘You could always... make her as you are.’ I was silent, speechless. ‘Oh, don’t give me that look, it’s not that hard. You just drain her dry and give her some of your own blood and there you have it.’ “Clearly this was the option she wanted me to take.” “So, did you do it?” Cindy asked hesitantly. “Of course I didn’t,’ Marcell said, a bit of disdain present in his tone. “This isn’t some gothic romance. I wouldn’t wish my curse on anyone, let alone an eight-year-old girl. Can you imagine what it would be like to be eight for eternity?” Cindy nodded thoughtfully. “Horrible, I’d imagine. But if you didn’t turn her, what did you do?” “I stared Death in the face, shouted something very profane that does not translate well from its original Latin, and I killed Julia. I can’t drain most adults to the point of death under usual circumstances, but she was very small. Though I tried to make her death as painless as possible, I’m sure it was very terrifying. I saw her open her eyes for a moment and stare at me; I’m not sure if she even understood what was happening. And then she was gone, the light left her eyes, and she became limp in my arms. “Death laughed as I wiped the blood from my chin. ‘So defiant, Marcellus. You’re more fun than I could have ever hoped for.’ “I blinked, and she was gone, her voice echoing across the water. ‘I’ll see you soon, I’m sure.’ “And that’s the story, mostly. Once the eruption had ceased I found my way back to the ruins of Pompeii briefly to salvage what I could, and make proper arrangements for Aurelia and Julia’s bodies. The house was completely buried, most of my manuscripts destroyed, and once again, I was all alone. I’ve never really had a home like that since.” “So you just wandered? For two-thousand years?” Cindy asked. Marcell nodded. “I’d settle down in one place or another occasionally, but never for long.” “I can see why. Everyone you meet is just gonna die on you anyway.” “When you’re as old as I am, you learn to appreciate things while you have them. That was what Pompeii taught me. Back then, every loss was a tragedy, now... maybe I’m just used to it.” Cindy shifted in her chair. “So I suppose you’ll only stick around here for a few more years and then move on, huh?” “Maybe. Who knows what the future holds?” He shrugged. “I have a question,” Cindy raised her hand lazily. “Why here? I mean, you’ve been to Rome and Pompeii and may or may not have discovered Atlantis. This can’t be very interesting for you.” He smiled. You’d be surprised. This town has a certain... strangeness about it. You could say that draws people like me.” “Like what?” Cindy giggled. “Do the Outback Steak Houses form a pentagram or something?” “I don’t know,” he laughed along. “Take the spiders for instance. They just seem a little too big and a little too hairy. Things like that. Look, there’s one over there.” He pointed across the room and Cindy jumped as she turned to see a large, brown spider scuttling coyly across the tile. “I hate spiders,” she growled. Pointing her finger at the spider, Cindy muttered something unintelligible, and a burst of flame shot out from the appendage, straight towards the spider. It promptly burnt to a crisp, collapsing into a pile of ash. Cindy blew the smoke from her finger. “Now that’s what I call char-broiled.” “Wha—“ Marcell blinked. “What was that?” Cindy froze. “Oh, I probably shouldn’t have done that.” She sighed, turning back to him. “And here I was gonna let you think you were the weird one for a little longer.” “As your teacher,” he tried to put on a serious face. “I think I have a right to demand an explanation.” It didn’t work. “Would you believe that I made a deal with a demon for unholy powers?” He blinked again. “That makes even less sense.” “Would it help if that was the reason for my sudden and inexplicable change in personality?” “I’m gonna need more than that.” Marcell frowned. “Tell me the whole story.” “Okay,” Cindy grimaced. “But it’s not gonna be pretty.” “Life isn’t pretty,” he said, smiling devilishly. “Touché.” Cindy took a moment to gather her thoughts, staring out the classroom window while Marcell waited. “Alright then. It happened two years ago...”