AN: This is my fist story so I welcome all reviews. Anonymous reviews are enabled so don't be afraid to review. PM me with the constructive criticism. By the way the only thing I own is the OC's. I borrowed the idea from and old Fox show "New Amsterdam"
Diligo quod Immortalis
First you should know that I telling this story not to gain fame or wealth rather I am telling this story so that the secret that I have held for over two millennia with finally be known. My birth name is Marcus Aelius and I was once just a common Roman soldier but a fateful battle and its aftermath would change my life forever. It was the fall of the year 9 AD and the army that I was a part of, which consisted of three legions, six cohorts of allies, and three units of cavalry, was marching through the Teutoburg forest, in western Germany, when we were suddenly and viciously attacked by a Germanic army. We were not marching in combat formation, and were interspersed with large numbers of camp-followers. As we entered the forest, we found the track narrow and muddy; a violent storm had also arisen. Varus, our general, neglected to send out advance scouting parties so we were completely surprised we they attacked. We lost a lot of good men in the initial attack but we managed to make camp that evening. As we attempted to break out in to the open country losses were heavy and as we tried to escape through another forested area, with the storm still raging overhead, our bows were useless and our shields became laden with water. This is where my story begins as I was one of those that were grievously wounded in that forest. I was attacked from behind by the barbarian and I was stabbed through the stomach and I was sure that I would never see my home just outside Neapolis again but I was in luck because as I was captured by the barbarians, a Germanic priest by the name of Emelrich took pity on me and preformed some kind of ceremony that saved my life and healed me. Only later would I realize that I was cursed with immortality. Don't get me wrong, I am glad that I survived to see home again but I have seen things that I wish I hadn't. Sure I can be hurt and my heart could stop beating but in any event I would regain consciousness. As I came to terms with my condition I was forced to uproot my life every 10 or 15 years as to not arouse suspicion. I traveled from Rome to Athens and then to Egypt. Then I escaped to Britain. Soon my life became a quest to break the curse so I tried to read everything that I could get my hands on regarding Germanic rituals. I was in luck because I found a book that contained the ritual that was performed in ancient Germanic and translated into English. As I learned more I found that the only way to break the spell or curse was to find my true love. As I fell in love with women through the centuries the story has always been the same. I would fall in love then get married but I would soon realize that I was not aging and the curse was not broken and would be forced to leave my family to protect them from the suspicion I would undoubtedly arouse. The closest I believe I ever came to breaking the curse was when I met a young woman by the name of Emma in 1834 in Virginia. She was the quintessential southern belle, a woman with grace, intelligence, and charm. Two years later we were married and a year and a half after that we were blessed with the arrival of a little girl named Ava. Then when Ava was about five I realized that I could no longer stay so I wrote a three page explaining everything. I believe she kept my secret because she thought that I was a lunatic, she was maybe the first person that I told about the curse placed on my head. After Emma I never remarried, sure I dated but never again did I marry. That brings us to the present as I sit in my office in Princeton, NJ. I am currently a professor of history at the university. I stare at the clock in my office and a realize that I only have 12 minutes until my next class began so I grabbed my lecture notes and sprinted out of my office and down the hall to make it to the lecture hall on time. As I enter the hall I am a little winded.
"Good Morning class." I shout to project my voice across the massive room.
In response I get a cascade of half asleep murmurs but I guess that's what you get when you start a class at 7 a.m.
"Today we are going to go over the Bubonic plague and its effects on European society." I explain.
In that moment I am overcome by a sudden rush of memories that I had struggled to suppress for over 600 years. Memories of the dying invade my brain, memories of the massive pyres built to cremate the dead as to keep the pestilence from spreading. This was not the first time I had been overcome by the flashbacks, the worst came when we discussed the Roman defeat at the Teutoburg forest. I force myself to regain my focus and to get through the lecture.
"Don't forget that your papers are due next Tuesday" I say "I expect them to be good "I joke to lighten the mood after our morbid topic as they file out the door.
I collapse into the chair in the room and I rub my temples in a vain attempt to banish the memories from my skull. I soon realize that I am still running the fever that I got over the weekend and I decide that it was time to get checked out. I get into my car drive to the clinic at Princeton-Plainsboro since it was nearby and I didn't have time to make an appointment with my regular doctor. As I sit in the waiting room filling out paperwork I look around and see the standard fare of hung over college students , overprotective parents, and people who made a mistake the night before and are getting an STD test. I am waiting for my name to be called into a room when I see a little girl that reminds me of the daughter I left so long ago and I force myself to look away.
"Marcus Shea, please come with me" A heavenly voice says.
I look up and see a beautiful woman with chestnut brown hair and the most hypnotizing pair of blue-green eyes I had ever seen. I stand up and follow the beautiful doctor into the open exam room.
