Micah

Chapter 7

Rome - 75 BC

Micah was lost. He'd stormed away from the gates of the Underworld in a huff and had only realised that he didn't have a clue where he was when the sun started setting and he finally looked around. It was too green to be Greece, but the architecture wasn't far off. He could see a city, larger than any he'd ever seen, in the distance, so that was where Micah set his path.

By the time he had reached the city night had truly fallen and bright stars lit the sky. The streets were clean and full of people, a shock to Micah. He was so used to being alone that the sight of so many people just going about their business was quite terrifying. He could feel his chest tightening, breathing coming more shallowly, as he was bumped around in the throng.

Eventually, he managed to escape the mass of people and exit into a small street that was deserted. He leant against a wall, hands on his knees, breathing deeply. He had not expected to have to face something like that so quickly.

As breathing became easier, his heartbeat less erratic, Micah became aware of a pair of sandaled feet standing before him. Following the legs and body up, he found himself face to face with a dark-haired, pale-skinned man. The man was shorter than Micah, but taller than most that he had seen, and he had a well-structured face with a broad chin and strong nose. What Micah didn't like were the curious brown eyes staring at him intently.

"Hello?" Micah greeted the man. The stranger tilted his head, confusion on his face, and replied in a different language. Fortunately, this was a language that Micah knew. Latin. Not only that, but the man was asking if he was okay. This was even more shocking than the crowds, and Micah chose to answer as honestly as he could, without giving everything away.

"Yes," he answered in Latin, "I was just surprised by the people. I haven't left my home in quite some time." The man nodded and gave Micah a sympathetic pat on the shoulder, which Micah had to fight not to knock away.

"You are not from around here? Come, Amica, I will give you food and wine."

Micah gave a nod and stood straight again, about a head taller than the kind stranger.

"Thank you. What is your name?"

"Me? I am Gaius Julius Caesar. And you?"

"Uh- Micah."

Gaius Julius Caesar led Micah through the confusing roads and the throngs of people with ease. Many of them gave Micah wary looks and a wide berth, he was an obvious outsider, and freakishly tall to beat. He didn't mind, though. It made things much easier for him and meant that he didn't have to worry about knocking into someone and making enemies.

"So, Micah, where are you from?" His guide asked, probing for more information about the stranger. Micah would've preferred to walk in silence, but he could not be discourteous to his new friend, and so he humoured the question.

"Greece." He gave yet another one-word answer, but Caesar didn't seem to mind. In fact, he smiled quite nicely and gave an enthusiastic nod. He was likely just being polite, but Micah was starting to appreciate the strange kindness from this man.

"A lovely culture, although a touch uncivilised." Caesar noted. Micah wasn't offended, he actually didn't care about Greece at all, seeing as he hadn't been there in over two hundred years. He gave Caesar a quickly disappearing smile, which the man took as encouragement to continue.

"What brings you to Rome? Do you have business here?" He probed further. This question wasn't one that Micah could answer in a single word. If he said 'yes', Caesar would enquire about it, and Micah didn't know enough about Rome to answer a question like that. Instead, he opted for a half-truth.