The Gates of Tartarus | I ✓

41. I Fulfill My Dream's Promise

*Steals a Spider-Man quote for my chapter*

Dude, Hannibal is amazing. He asks to talk to Scipio (allegedly) to plead for mercy and peace and just straight up insults him.

An actual role model.

Edit: The original title (if any of you guys are interested) was: "None of this would've happened if you had just listened to me!" but also I feel like Disney would somehow sue me so I will just get rid of it.

Not that this new title is good but whatever.

The man must've been in his late twenties, dressed in a toga, though he wore a cape for some strange reason, golden letters glittering S.P.Q.R. on the wine-colored fabric. At his side dangled a sheathed short sword, his eyes as wicked as his blade, though his gaze looked far more friendly and teasing than truly dangerous. Roman. His clothing and dark eyes and hair told me that well enough.

I thought back to my dreams, and then looked back at him. His name came to me almost immediately.

"Scipio. Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus."

He tilted his head, eyes curious. "You're beginning to remember?"

"Um, no, not really," I said lamely, though I half-wished I had never said anything. "I did a report on Hannibal in middle school, though, and since you defeated him, I just... you know..."

His smile widened, though he wisely didn't comment on my choice of project. "You've changed, Aelia. For better or worse, we will have yet to decide."

The way he studied me was unnerving. I felt almost as if I were a battle plan he was rechecking the night before.

Attempting escape his scrutinizing eyes, I blurted out, "So I was someone named Aelia."

That did the trick. "Yes," he said. "Aelia Lamia of the Aelii, conqueror of Carthage."

I had been expecting him to say something like that, but still hearing it was jarring. Sure, I had suspected that the dream where I had thought I was Scipio wasn't actually me as Scipio but me as... Aelia, or whatever, but it's not every day you learned that at one point in your life, you had been clever and powerful enough to defeat who many would regard as one of the most brilliant commanders in history. How could I believe that, when I cried over calculus?

"I rejected all of his proposals," I recalled. "I also told him to basically"—I said a word that shouldn't have been repeated— "off. So Hannibal probably hates me."

"Oh yes, very much so," Scipio agreed with more cheer than I thought was appropriate. "I wouldn't not have disagreed with your decision—I hardly would've allowed Hannibal to say half the things he said to you—but he would still gladly see us dead. After all, you demanded his complete surrender and his refusal cost him his army and dignity. He vowed to avenge Carthage, though his revenge seems... late."

I stared around the room. Unlike when I had shifted from Odysseus to Alexander, the scene hadn't changed yet. Kallistrate and Alexander were still in the room, Kallistrate's smirk and Alexander's gape frozen forever. I studied her face as I spoke.

"Alexander said I became more bitter and crueler. More ruthless. Was he right?"

Scipio hesitated. "Despite the power and the wealth the gens Aelia began to enjoy, you were still of the plebeian branch—a far cry from the royal life you had been accustomed to. For all your power, your class was something you could not change. With your status came limitations on your military influence, and with these limitations came your resentment."

"My resentment?"

"For those who were privileged," he said, "and especially those who abused their power."