The Heart of Time

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  1. "You'll be at the presentation tomorrow, right, Nathaniel?

    The brilliant but eccentric older man with fly-away white hair and kindly brown eyes was the only one Nathan knew who called him 'Nathaniel'. It seemed Professor Cyril Anthis could not be convinced that 'Nathan' was not merely a nickname and the younger man had grown fond of hearing it, just as he'd come to appreciate the Professor himself.

    "Of course, Professor." was the reply as Nathan scribbled notes across the desk from the older man. He could feel those wise old eyes on him, fought a smile knowing that Cyril would be frowning in that familiar way at his half-distracted answer.

    "It's a very important event, my boy. You are the one who came up with the formula. You must be there."

    A chuckle answered as the young man finally looked up. "I hardly did all the work myself, Professor." He grinned at the furrowing of white brows, forestalling the older man's protest. "I will be there! I promise."

    Cyril gave him an almost suspicious look. "On time?"

    Nathan laughed, shaking his head as he went back to his notes. "On time" he agreed.


    Gah! He was late!

    Nathan nearly cringed when he came into the large room where the university held their public demonstrations. It was usually to get more funding and this time was no different. And people had really shown up this time. The room was packed! His black eyes swept over the multitude of colors that were people until he spotted his parents, right where they'd said they'd be. A smile touched his features, but Nathan didn't head toward them. Rather he weaved his way between people until he came to the red ropes strung between gold posts keeping people from getting too close to the machine in the room.

    Flashing his ID, security let him past and Nathan looked sheepishly at the Professor through his curtain of brown hair, self-consciously rubbing his palms on his jeans. He knew he should have worn something more 'professional' but Nathan hated dressing up. His black shirt and faded blue jeans were good enough for him. They didn't effect what he could do with his mind, so what did it matter? The older man gave him a rather exasperated, but fond look and gestured him over. His timing and his dress code - or lack thereof - weren't mentioned as the whole team of scientists, engineers, mathematicians and historians went down their checklists, trying to be sure nothing went wrong.

    The next half-hour was a blur for Nathan, but filled with anticipatory excitement as they were finally given the clear to start the speech that would ultimately lead to the machine being turned on. They were sending a drone back through time....or at least they hoped they were. The science all added up, the numbers were right, but the drone would tell them, once and for all, whether they'd truly succeeded in their goal.

    To travel through time.

    The speech was a buzz in his ears and Nathan barely registered when his name was mentioned, his contributions to the project listed. He already knew them, had lived them for the past five years. He just wanted to see if it had been worth it! Soon enough, that moment came as the machine was prepped and then the purr of the massive engine came on. Nathan found himself almost trembling, more excited than he could remember being in a long time. The feeling was mutual from everyone in the room, the entire crowd waiting with baited breath for what they were about to see as blue sparks started to gather in one spot before the machine.

    Such was the focus of everyone on what was about to happen that no one seemed to notice what was happening NOW. Somehow - why even a mystery to him - Nathan caught sight of the little girl first. She'd escaped her mother, no doubt the woman distracted and her goal was the platform where the drone was moving toward the blue sparks. It looked almost like a toy and the child of four or five was determined to get to it, perhaps drawn by the hypnotizing blue light, as well. She slipped beneath the ropes easily and Nathan felt his heart leap into his throat as she advanced upon her target.

    Nathan reacted without thought then, his body surging into motion. He managed to get to the child just as the blue sparks were reaching for her, right as everyone started to become aware of the danger and a female voice screamed out a name - no doubt the girl's mother. The young man made contact with the child, but he didn't have time to grab her, pull her away. The only thing he could do was push her and Nathan did without hesitation, sending the young one sprawling with a wail.

    It got her out of harm's way, though....while putting him right into it. He felt the first blue spark that touched his body like a jolt of electricity through his veins. It wasn't painful, but he suddenly found himself being dragged into the midst of the phenomenon as if invisible hands grabbed him. He was helpless to fight it.

    In that moment, as the blue gathered around him, Nathan couldn't help but think what they'd say about him. Intelligent, top of his class, perhaps even brilliant but his life cut too short. He'd be hailed a hero for saving the girl, a tragic accident that would forever tarnish the university's name. The project would be halted as they tried to see if he'd lived, perhaps tried to get him back - if he lived at all; would he live? - but eventually science would move on, life would keep going and the time machine would be perfected. Someday someone would travel back, purposefully. Maybe they'd find him. Alive? Dead? He didn't know.

    And that's when the fear hit.

    He was going to die, wasn't he?

    The answer was about to come sooner than he was ready for as Nathan felt a pressure that was almost unbearable start to surround his body. It grew and grew until he felt as if he might be crushed, a wordless scream in his throat as the world suddenly vanished in an explosion of blue-white light as he felt himself hurled through an unimaginable darkness, colder than any winter, sucking the air from his lungs before he was abruptly released from it all. The pressure left, the chill, the blackness, it was all gone and instead Nathan was falling.

    Quite literally.

    He didn't get the chance to cry out, to catch himself as his body made contact with the ground and he felt as much as heard the sickening crack just before the pain exploded in his side. He was rolling then, down a shallow hill before coming to rest at the bottom. A new kind of pain flared in his temple and Nathan thought he saw a flash of red, the feeling of something wet before the world started to fade from focus.

    The last thing he recalled was an incredibly blue sky and what looked like trees and flowers around him, like a garden. He was alive. It was his last thought before he knew nothing more.
    #1 Kaisaan, Nov 5, 2014
    Last edited: Nov 5, 2014
  2. "My lady, he could be your future. A perfect husband in all ways. Why are you holding back now?" Dorcia, a young blonde-haired woman inquired in a thick Grecian accent. A rather flabbergasted sigh rose from the young lady's chest. "That is my point, exactly," Amara stated with a gall tone, standing up from the luxury of her beautiful cream-colored chair, a light fur-colored blanket with dark tips draped over the left arm. She began to walk aggressively towards the double-door entrance that led into her chambers. Her long, smooth fingers clasped around the extravagant golden door handle accentuated with tiny complex details. Amara turned back towards Dorcia, her lady-in-waiting. "No one understands. I do not wish to be wed as of now. How am I to know if he is the "perfect husband" when I barely know him? Why are you against my decision to wait until I do know him better?" She tugged at the handle and the doors opened immediately to the long spacious hall in the palace of Athens, Greece.

    Stepping out, Amara turned on her heel to begin walking down the left side, her chin held high, posture straight as a tree branch. The lovely folds of her feather white robe draped over her arms, leaving fabric held together at the shoulders fall back gracefully into waves, covering the frontal part and posterior part of her arms. She walked quickly towards the central court from the north pillar hall, not bothering with going the "right" way towards the throne room where she was to meet a man who was filthy rich and strong. Her face twisted sourly at the thought. Rich and strong; They were the only suitors her father ever thought about letting her see. No one else; simply a rich and strong man, possible military strategist, and maybe even a gladiator. She didn't want her husband to be recognized for such things, hence why she was not content these past few days. "He can go die in hell for all I care," she muttered frivolously, stepping out into the sun shining down onto the beautiful marble.

    Dorcia struggled to catch up with her lady, but managed to arrive just as she stop to take in freedom from the cool breeze. A beautiful wood thrush landed on a young olive tree, chirping. Amara felt the corners of her mouth rise slightly in enrapture towards the bird's beautiful, melodic song. Amara stepped forward, holding her hand out, beckoning the light brown bird with small black streaks on its soft chest to come closer and sing with her. Dorcia watched the princess with mixed-feelings of content and anxiety. "My lady, if you would-" Amara held up a hand to silence her friend. "Shh. Come here... I won't hurt you..." The wood thrush fluffed its wings, blinked a few times, then suddenly flew away. Amara pulled back, discontent on her face. "Look what you've done. I was almost there..."

    Sapphire blue eyes averted slightly, body language showing Dorcia's shame and guilt for being persistent on the matter. "I apologize my lady, but it is necessary that you see your father and Dominicus." Amara rolled her eyes, about to open her mouth to say something, but immediately clamping it shut and becoming aware of her surroundings as the ground began to shake. A little rapture, then a little more. "Dorcia! What's happening?" Amara and her lady-in-waiting both rushed towards each other, fear in their eyes, while the ground shook slightly in a decision of whether death bid them farewell or not. "Amara!" A hoarse Grecian accent filled the air. The young princess glanced up to see her father and Dominicus rushing towards them. "Get her somewhere safe. The east entrance, at least!" Her father demanded. "Wait!" Amara cried. "GO NOW!" Knowing she could not defy her father, she did as told for the time being.

    Amara bit her lip, turning to flee with Dominicus in resignation, both running away towards the nearest entrance, when suddenly, the shaking stopped. Amara tugged her arm away from Dominicus' grip, who she could not let herself be torn away from, and stared in wonder at the sky as a strange colored puff of smoke in the clouds immediately went away. What was it? No one had ever seen anything like that. The light had her mesmerized for a mere moment as she blinked, then was taken aback by it being gone. She rushed forward into the central court once more. "What was that?" she questioned to no one in particular. "What was what?" her father countered. "That blue light... It was beautiful..."

    "Someone's been injured your excellency!" Amara abruptly turned toward the sudden entrance of a male servant. "We do not know who he is, where he came from, but his injuries are grave!" Amara's eyes narrowed. "Let me see!" she stated upright, trying to pull her arm away from Dominicus once more. This time, he released his hold. "Where is he? Where is he injured? Is he alright?" Amara bombarded the servant with questions, who shrank under authority of her father. "You do not have any authority to worry about someone who is foreign to this place," her father announced sternly. "What?!" Amara's green eyes grew wide in shock. "You're a woman, Amara! Do as your told and go back to your chambers. Dominicus and I will question this foreigner."

    Without another word, Dominicus and Amara's father strode off towards the healer's room. Amara was left, standing stubbornly like a twig about to break in half. "That old man..." she grumbled. "Come, my lady." Dorcia offered a hand, seemingly unaffected by the events. With reluctance, Amara placed her hand in Dorcia's and glanced back as a distant Dominicus and her father took a right turn down the furthermost halls to the west wing.

    I'll see to him whether they like it or not...
  3. They did not know what to make of the strange man who'd somehow ended up in the palace gardens. His clothing was like nothing they'd ever seen, of a material that was fascinating, especially the pants he wore. His footwear puzzled them and for all that their oaths as healers bid them help him, they were almost afraid to touch the man for the sheer mystery he represented. In the end, however, their natures won out and it was with skilled, delicate methods that they began to treat the wound he'd sustained to his temple and then search for further injuries. Such were easily found on the left side of his body, his ribs to be specific. Three had cracked and two had broken completely, leaving instant, deep, dark bruising on his flesh that was nearly black it was such a dark purple. Internal bleeding of the tissues around his ribs was to be expected and further searching showed it was unlikely he had any bleeding inside that would kill him.

    It pleased the healers if for no other reason than they might get their answers when the man woke.

    And questions they had! Not just about his attire or his origins, but about something far more important, something that had made them even more cautious as they treated him, wrapping his ribs after applying a paste for his bruising and bandaging his head. It was the tattoo they'd found on his chest, a symbol they knew well, but could not fathom seeing on the person it graced. It was the mark of the goddess Athena! Such who bore her mark were her servants, given extraordinary powers and she was very protective of them.

    The last thing the healers wanted was to anger her and as such, they informed the King of their findings.




    Just pain. No threat.





    Threat! Kill!

    Nathan came awake with a sound somewhere between a scream and a gasp, trying to sit up only to be pressed back down by guiding, helpful hands....that he promptly fought. Panic set in almost instantly, causing him to struggle which in turn brought a flare of agony to his body that made the male still with a hitched sob, his breath having fled him and his body now shaking slightly in reaction to the unexpected pain. He wanted to curl around it, relieve it somehow, but any movement hurt in a way he'd not felt in a long time and Nathan was made to lie back again, this time with no protesting from him.

    He struggled to breathe for a minute, quickly learning that shallow swallows of air were better than gulps. The pain lowering down to something barely tolerable, he then became aware of his surroundings.

    He was lying on a bed of strange material with white sheets around him. The window that looked outside showed him a sky impossibly blue, untainted by pollution. Stone walls greeted him, each one carved with intricate designs that instantly fascinated him despite the circumstances. Brilliant in math and science, Nathan was a historian at heart and this....this was something unlike he'd ever seen before. Or so he thought. It only took movement at the side of the bed for his black eyes to focus on the people standing around him. THEY were certainly like no one he'd ever seen before.

    That's when he knew he wasn't dead. That's when Nathan knew it had worked.

    He'd gone back in time.
    #3 Kaisaan, Nov 5, 2014
    Last edited: Nov 8, 2014
  4. Amara waited an hour, then two hours, and some more before finally deciding she'd go and find out what she'd been kept from. Frankly, she didn't care what her father thought; whether she was a woman or not, whether this was her business or not. She just had to know what he was keeping her from. If someone was injured, and if he was someone they didn't know, someone they didn't understand where his origins came from, then Amara was determined to find out more. She had actually managed to weave herself through her Father's guards by deception and a cunning intellect, although that sort of thing wasn't usually the norm for her.

    Walking speedily down the north wing, Amara seemed to run more than walk fast. She was eager, she was curious, she wanted to know what a foreigner was doing here. The young light brown haired woman burst through the doors without so much as a knock. Amara was far too filled with vigor and senselessness to even apologize for her barging in. The healers scolded her for such imprudence, but she was too giddy at the moment to even care what they thought. "Let me see him," she demanded in a light-hearted tone, skirting her way around a table, then the edge of a white wall that stick out, beautiful wallpaper decorated with various colors and art of the Greek gods and goddesses.

    "Move. Please." She made her best efforts to scoot through the crowd of healers. "Stand back. He may be scared and confused." She finally dug a hole in the crowd, sighing in relief when every healer moved as she'd stated they do. Folding her hands across her abdomen, she smiled gently at the healers, eyes landing on just about every single one for a mere moment. "That's better." Her emerald eyes landed on the man laying in the bed. The first thing she noticed was his clothing. He wasn't from around here, he was from... well, wherever he was from. It was hard to pinpoint that. Her eyes appraised him from head to toe, his facial features, his long hair.

    Amara wasn't sure what to make of him, so she decided to start off nice and easy- proposing a greeting. Approaching him, she daintily sat herself down at the end of the bed to give him space, and introduced herself. "Good afternoon. You seem to have taken quite the fall. My name is Amara. May I have the honor of knowing your name, sir?"
  5. Fascination was quickly giving way to reason and reason was very quickly leading to fear. A healthy fear, perhaps, but all the same, it wasn't going to help him and Nathan tried to calm himself, taking shallow, but long breaths as he watched all the people around him, trying to make his mind work to tell him where he, WHEN he was. The architecture and depictions on the walls told him around what era he was in and even narrowing it down by a couple hundred years was better than the whole of past-time. It was the Mycenaean Age, he would bet anything on it, perhaps around 550-1200 B.C.. Maybe. That was just a rough estimate, but it was certainly better than nothing as far as Nathan was concerned.

    All right, so he knew - sort of - what Age he was in, what part of history, but....where was he? That answer was perhaps the easiest by far as his black eyes once more found the healers. He'd been avoiding looking at them, their light-colored eyes studying him far too intently for comfort, but now he looked them over with that same kind of intensity - which, oddly enough, seemed to make them nervous - his dark gaze moving from the color of their skin, their hair, their eyes, the shape of their faces and features, and then what they wore. That was the greatest hint of all, though, all facts led him to one answer.


    He was in Ancient Greece.

    That was almost relieving.

    He'd just been living in Greece. He knew the language, the customs, had studied its people and culture. At least he was somewhere that was almost familiar. Nathan almost smacked himself for even thinking such a thing a moment later. Familiar? This wasn't familiar! He was in the PAST! He was...was...he wasn't even BORN yet! His parents weren't even born yet. His great, great, great, great, great, great, a-lot-of-freaking-greats grandparents weren't even born yet! He wasn't supposed to be here! What if he messed something up? What if just BEING here was causing time to reshape itself from this point on? Did his time even exist anymore? No, technically it hadn't happened yet. But it had to have...because he was here and he was from there and.....oh gods above this was was going to get confusing!

    A sudden streak of pain through his ribcage brought him back to the present - past? - and Nathan realized he'd been starting to hyperventilate....and there was a woman standing in the room now. In the midst of all the male healers she certainly stood out and there was no denying she was beautiful with her jewel-clear eyes, sleek hair the same shade as a doe's hide and smooth olive-hued skin already kissed by the summer sun. She held herself with grace, poise, like one who knew they held authority, and just looking at her clothes and jewelry told Nathan that she did indeed have power. How much, especially considering she was a woman in an Age where men ruled, he couldn't have said, but it would be wise of him to proceed respectfully regardless.

    Not that he'd planned on being rude. He was a stranger in these lands - far more than anyone could know - and he had no idea when he'd be going back home....or even if he could. It would be smart to make friends rather than enemies.

    Still, when the woman came and sat on the edge of the bed, he swallowed nervously, his black eyes - rather exotic in Greece for this time-period - flickering away from her green for several moments as he made himself take a few more slow, but shallow breaths. The pain almost helped to center him before his gaze came back to Amara's. He could just barely understand her and it was only thanks to his prolonged contact with Professor Anthis that her accent, so thick her words almost didn't translate in his mind, was almost familiar to his ears. He knew Greek fluently, and he knew the older dialects proficiently, but this...wasn't going to be easy....and his accent was going to be just as difficult for them as theirs was for him.

    "My name Where be...are...I?" No, that wasn't right... "Am I. Where am I?"
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  6. Amara was fond of this stranger, this foreigner as her father so called him. She found herself attracted to him in some way. The black of his eyes were exotic, his long dark brown hair was interesting, and his clothing was beyond what she'd seen before. They were a strange color and style; she couldn't get over the fact of how different he looked. His skin, his facial structure, and the way he spoke. His language... she could barely understand because of how foreign it sounded. It was obvious that he wasn't from Greece, much less Athens.

    Amara had been born in Athens, Greece, and was delivered in the wake of her mother's presence within the lavish master bedroom for the king and queen. She'd been raised inside the palace her entire life as a child, surrounded by healers, scribes, and her parents who ruled over Athens within this time of year. Letting her father take over the journeying and discovering aspect of her life just didn't appeal to her. She wanted to do things on her own, to not be bothered all the time and looked down upon simply because she was a woman. Amara just simply wouldn't take it any longer now that she was a full grown lady and a more mature princess at that.

    Poor thing... She smiled a little at him, feeling a little awkward, then glancing over at the healers, feeling a little helpless in the situation. It was uncomfortable to deal with a stranger with men around. Pushing a strand of hair back away from her face, she cleared her throat slightly. "Balios... I ask that you and the others leave..." she spoke calmly, trying to withhold her anxiety inside. "My lady," he began. "Your father would not approve of such an action, much less you being here. It's dangerous. You don't know if he could be hiding a weapon within the depths of his clothing. He may be an assassin from somewhere. It's best if we stay here with you in order to begin trusting him."

    Amara shook her head in disappointment at Balios' words. They always went by her father's supposed morals, simply because he was king. Standing up, she conversed her feelings and thoughts towards him, a sincere, direct gaze on his. "Balios," she began smoothly. "My father is not here right now. You do not have to tell him of my presence, as I'm sure you've stated you would tell him when this man woke up. If he was an assassin, do you not think that he would already have slaughtered you and your colleagues? I think not. Look at him." Balios glanced at Nathan out the left side of his peripheral vision. "Do you not see how afraid he is? He's shaking. Leave him to me."

    Balios' eyes narrowed slightly, but he gave in with a deep sigh. "Very well then, my lady. You must come to us when you are finished with this foreigner." Amara gave Balios a good-natured smile. "That I will do," she promised, watching silently as he and the other healer's filed out of the room. When the door shut, Amara felt a wave of relief wash over her. She wouldn't, but she could get a little more personal as to how he got here, where he came from, and who he was. "I'm sorry for that intrusion within our little talk. You seem confused as to where you are. Everything about you... This is the healer's room within my father's palace."
  7. They were speaking far to fast for him to follow every word, to truly understand what was going on. His question had not been answered and it seemed that an argument - albeit a polite, calm-toned one - was going on about him. Had he done something wrong? The way the man - Belios? - looked at him gave Nathan the distinct feeling that he'd already committed some crime he was not aware of and the young man had to caution himself against panic.

    Shaking? He was, wasn't he? Nathan hadn't noticed until now, but his body was indeed trembling in a combination of fear, pain and some kind of exhaustion he could only name as time-lag. Like jet-lag. The mere thought threatened to make him laugh and he resisted the urge strongly, knowing that logically it was more hysteria than amusement that would have made him do so. He needed to make a good impression on these people, not have them suspect him of being unsound in the head.....though, they might think that by the time they were done with him anyway.

    He couldn't very well tell them he'd jumped - more like got sucked - through time. But what could he tell them?

    So wrapped up in his thoughts was Nathan that he didn't realize that the others had gone and Amara was addressing him once more until her weight shifted the bed and he jolted up out of his silent musings. Black eyes met green and then flickered away again, down to his hands as they subconsciously twisted a part of the blanket beneath them, nervous and unsure how to proceed now that he was truly trying to figure out just what he could say that wouldn't see him thrown out or worse. It was hard to think, though, and Nathan suspected a concussion in addition to the constant throb of pain throughout his side. He could hardly breathe without wanting to cry and it was only experience that kept his face straight and his eyes dry.

    It was experience that was just as much a secret as traveling through time would have to be now. Nathan already felt overwhelmed and suffocated by the weight of it. He knew it would only get worse as time passed, as he started to miss his family and friends, as the realization sunk in that in all likelihood, he wasn't going home. But he refused to think about that yet. One thing at a time.

    Like how to answer the Princess - oh, wow, an actual Greek princess!? She had said her father's palace, right? - sitting before him.

    "I know this is doct- healer room. I want know What is the name?" He wanted to ask the year, details about who was ruling in the lands abroad, whether certain major events had happened, so many things that would center him....but would paint him as completely insane, perhaps even dangerous to the people who lived in this time. Nathan cautioned himself to small questions first.
  8. Amara shifted slightly on the bed that she had walked back over to, patting her silky brown hair in an attempt to clear away the strands that were beginning to fall away. Her head was starting to hurt from such a tight braided bun. Just a little tap on the edges pained her a little. Her green eyes gazed up at his exotic black ones for a moment, then he glanced away. She noticed the way he moved, especially his hands. They twisted the neutral-colored fabric beneath him and without hesitation, she reached out and gently placed her hand on his, giving him a reassuring squeeze. Even if she hadn't gone what he'd gone through, she still felt a wave of sympathy for the stranger.

    Amara carried a big heart- that was evident through her actions and body language. She understood what it was like to be afraid, to be worried. The sun shone on her olive skin and the side of her face, one of the silver lion earrings glinting from the light. She had to wait a moment to try and comprehend his words, to process her thoughts on what he was trying to ask. "You are in Athens," she answered in her thick Grecian accent, giving him a small smile. "May I ask who brought you here, Nathan?" She wouldn't press him if he didn't feel comfortable answering right away, but she needed, or at least wanted, something to go off of in finding out more about him.

    If her father had arrived first when Nathan had finally regained conscious, Amara was sure that Nathan would have a terrible time answering questions. Her father was a prideful interrogator, he was always wary of strangers and didn't trust from the beginning. She could picture him storming in, beginning to bombard Nathan with questions she was sure he wouldn't even be able to answer right away. If Nathan failed to answer any questions, especially if they weren't "true" in her father's context, he'd be in much trouble under the man who was king. Amara couldn't bare to see an innocent, scared and fragile as he seemed, to go through more stress than what he already had.
  9. The touch was unexpected and Nathan looked up quickly, startled by it, though he didn't pull away. The compassion and patience in the young woman's green eyes eased some of the nerves coiled so tightly in his middle. Here, perhaps, he could find an ally. Nathan gave her a small smile in return for the comfort she'd shown, something he'd not anticipated, but he reasoned that people were alike, no matter which time period they came from. It was not such a far-fetched idea that someone would be sympathetic to a confused stranger. Just being able to link some part of the future with the past he now found himself in was stabilizing and Nathan took a steadier - but still careful - breath, relaxing somewhat.


    Well, at least it wasn't some obscure place he'd never heard of! Athens was a name everyone knew in his time and a name most would know in this time. It was one of the greatest cities in all of Greece and its history was rich and colorful, and well-documented. At least he wouldn't be completely lost.

    Somehow, it was only a small comfort.

    But he'd take it in light of everything, especially when faced with Amara's seemingly innocent, simple question. Who had brought him here? What could he say to that? The truth was not an option, not yet anyway. Perhaps one day, depending on how long he stayed and what kind of friends he made and who he felt he could trust, he'd tell someone. But not today. Not to a stranger, no matter how nice she was. He would have to lie. But what kind of lie? Something simple. Very simple and something that couldn't be disputed or looked more closely into. It would have to be something very easy to remember, something that gave him flexibility for when more questions came up and it had to be a solid lie, one that wouldn't be broken by stress or rapid questioning.

    Actually, it was rather simple to come up with just such a lie and Nathan's black eyes looked into the green that watched him with the most confused expression he could muster - and it wasn't hard.

    "I not know. I not..." Gah! What was that word! "My head, it hurts. I not know how I come here. I not....remember."

    Amnesia. Oldest trick in the book and it would serve him well in many regards. He even had the head wound to help make his story far more convincing. Nathan just wished the instant ball of guilt in his chest would ease up a little.
  10. She pulled back, her hand slipping away from his, returning to her upper thigh. The statement had been a little surprising at the least. He didn't remember? Amara felt a pang of sympathy for Nathan, her green eyes roaming over his face, worry covering her face and bodily gestures. She bit her lip, pulling back a small thin strand of dark brown hair that had managed to slip away from behind her ear. "I- I see..." she spoke apprehensively, slowly standing up and turning away from him, beginning to pace back and forth across the marble floor. What would she find out now? If he didn't remember anything, how would she learn what to do with him? How would she keep him safe from her father? Her father had very little leniency; he'd push Nathan no matter if he couldn't remember or not. The news made her head spin and legs cripple underneath the support of her limbs. It felt like a huge boulder had just been tossed in her way, rendering her unable to think of any solutions as to how she would get away.

    "I- I'll think of something," she spoke with artificial determination, her steps faltering one by one. "You're just as innocent as I am in this state. You've lost your memories, you don't remember what happened... We need to think of something. Something to tell my father that would be believable but deceiving... Here." Amara rushed over to the basin, grabbing the cloth nearby and dipping it in the cool water. She, as a princess, had never tended to someone before, most definitely not him, but she figured she'd know well enough what to do. Perhaps it was a sort of common sense? You didn't just shove anything down a stranger's throat when they were just as innocent as you were in a situation like this. Amara stretched her arms out. "Let's think," she spoke, her long arm reaching out to his forehead, placing the cool cloth down. "Perhaps... perhaps you were brought here from a nearby country... Maybe your men got killed and you, tired and exhausted, fell and hit your head... Maybe you were wounded... You are..."

    Amara seemed desperate to think of a logical explanation for this. She didn't want him hurt, she didn't want him to deal with the wrath of her father. If they hadn't thought of a decent explanation by the time her father would come down to question him, he'd probably die for "deceiving" the king by stating he didn't remember anything. Amara didn't want that, she didn't even know why she was so desperate to help him, to save him. Nathan wasn't even one of her people, she didn't know anything about him. He was pretty much something of a foreign prisoner in a way, trapped inside the castle, waiting for the interrogation. "You do know you'll be interrogated by my father, correct?" she inquired in silence. "He'll most likely have your head if you "lie" to him about not remembering anything..." I don't want that to happen to you...
  11. Nathan, for the life of him, couldn't figure out why she was suddenly so worried.

    At first he'd wondered if she suddenly felt unsafe being in here alone with him, if she'd suddenly realized he could have been anyone, could have hurt her. He could be lying for all she knew! He was lying. But Amara didn't leave. She simply started to pace, looking more and more worried, speaking to herself in a tone that implied she was convinced of fixing a problem he could not quite grasp. Him having 'amnesia' wasn't her fault, so why was she talking about deceiving her father and coming up with an explanation of who he was?

    Not remembering was....not good enough? Why? Yes, it would make him suspicious at first, but over time it would be accepted and as he 'learned' everything around him and 'remembered', few would even take notice anymore. It wasn't as if he had family here to remember what he'd 'forgotten'. This WAS the perfect cover, Nathan was sure of that. But why was Amara so nervous about it? About his fate? She didn't even know him.

    The cloth came in contact with his head, surprising the male somewhat as he'd been in deep thought, trying to weigh the pros and cons of his decision and the pitfalls he'd likely run into. On the side, he was carefully cataloging everything he saw, heard and experienced for silent analysis later. He would have to learn as much about this world as he could if he was going to blend in. He knew about it from history books, from archaeology digs and museums, from visiting the anceint ruins, but that was different than BEING here. He would have to lean fast to function - though, the amnesia and obviously not being from Athens - or even Greece - would help with that.

    With all of that floating around in his head, it was no wonder he was surprised by the touch of the cold on his forehead and Nathan's black eyes found Amara's green again just in time to catch her rambling idea about what had happened to him, all of which could have been true if he'd been from this time. It was her words about her father that really captured his attention, though, and the male's eyes widened, the color draining from his face.


    Killed? For not remembering? The interrogation he'd suspected, but killing him?

    Nathan could only think of one response to that, only one word really as he looked at the Princess with both confusion and fear, disbelief that he all truly felt. "W-why??"
  12. "I- I don't know. My father... He's a foul man. Untrusting. He craves power." She ran her hands over her face, stressing the situation. "You really shouldn't be here. You're not even from here..." Amara leaned forward, her long brown tresses falling from her shoulders, the ends tickling the man's nose as she daintily removed the cloth from his forehead. "You're a foreigner," the young woman stated in her thick Grecian accent, her voice shaking. "I know you don't want the crown, but my father is suspicious. If we don't come up with something legible, there's always the instance where my father will take over. A king has power. He has power. Don't deny that." Amara bit her lip.

    "Please understand. My father... He's a mad man. He doesn't seem to understand. I think there's something wrong with him. That's why it's important to save your life in any way possible." The sound of footsteps began to come into hearing distance, they were more like stomps than casual footsteps. Amara cringed, feeling her heart begin to beat fast. Had Balios and his healers left the entrance to tell the king of this meeting that seemed to go on forever? Amara could only hope not, but that hypothesis was being deducted from her train of thought. He was an impatient man, her father. Amara could feel her breathing begin to speed up, desperation and anxiety prickling her skin.

    "Just lie," she whispered, immediately tossing away the cloth and dashing over to the other side of the room, diving underneath a table covered with a beautiful silky dark red textile. She placed her hands over her mouth as soon as the doors opened, slamming against the walls. "Where is he?!" the king demanded. "Surely he must have been awakened for more than enough time." Amara closed her eyes tightly, praying that Nathan could come up with something that would guarantee the king's favor and be released. She could hear the footsteps of Balios and his healers silently trodding behind the king. A new pair of feet came to arrive alongside the king.

    Dominicus... Amara realized. That's right, he was to see Nathan, as well...
  13. Want the crown? Why would anyone think he wanted the crown?! He had simply injured himself! How did that translate into wanting the crown? Why, out of all the places he could have landed, did Time choose to deposit him in the courtyard of a palace!? Why had it given him into the hands of a madman - even his daughter admitted he was so! - before he could even adjust to what was happening around him? He didn't understand. Out of all the places, why here?

    And why was Amara so determined to save him? She didn't even know him.

    She wanted him to lie? Nathan almost snorted, on the verge of hysterical amusement, at her words. He was already lying! What kind of lie could he tell that wouldn't be torn apart in mere minutes by a deranged King who was not likely to believe him if he lied or told the truth? Nathan didn't get the chance to ask, nor even to think about what he might say, before Amara was ducking beneath a table and the sound of approaching footfalls were growing near. The male nearly jumped at the shout, feeling his heart rate accelerate in fear....but there was another reason, too, and THAT part alarmed Nathan further as he struggled to calm in the wake of what he was about to face. Would the King really kill him for claiming he couldn't remember anything?

    Well, no less then he'd kill him if the monarch knew he was a time-traveler.

    There really was no good option here and Nathan felt that knowledge settle within him as the King came into the room. Balios and another healer followed, and behind them came another man that Nathan couldn't name. Black eyes took them all in with a tranquil acceptance that Nathan wasn't sure he felt or not. There really wasn't anything he could do about this, though, except stick to the story he'd already given Amara. There really wasn't a better one, and surely not one more solid and able to stand up to scrutiny. No, he would keep with what he'd said and...see what came of it.

    "Your Majesty, this is the stranger we spoke to you of." The nameless healer stated - he was called Aeolos - before he turned his pale blue eyes to the bed-ridden male himself. "Stranger, you are in the presence of the King of Athens. What do you call yourself?"

    "Nathan, επιλέγεται της Αθηνάς." The language, ancient and flowing, came from Nathan's lips without thought on his part and he felt just as startled as the healers looked to hear him say it. Something within Nathan's mind translated the words, a language he didn't even know.

    Chosen of Athena. That is what he'd called himself....and he couldn't have said why.
    #13 Kaisaan, Nov 22, 2014
    Last edited: Nov 23, 2014
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