It was such a great day to be that close to death. It was a beautiful summer morning in what is now known as Rome. The sun was approaching the noon sky, there was a light breeze and even in my dilapidated state I could still appreciate just how perfect the day was shaping up to be. At the age of 38 I had led a full life by anyone's standards. But on my darkest day I was filled with an overwhelming feeling that my journey was just beginning. According to the doctors, nothing could be further from the truth. Little could any of us have known that their diagnosis was both spot on and could not have been more wrong. In fact, by dawn tomorrow, I would be both dead and more alive than ever.
Now, before I get too far ahead of myself, let me back up just a bit and give you the highlights up to that fateful day more than two millennia ago. As a young Etruscan boy I didn't want for much. My family had worked very hard to rise through the ranks of our society. My father, Lucius Tarquinius Priscus, later became the first Etruscan king of Rome. But that is a story for later. My mother encouraged my creativity from a very young age. Art in its many forms came easily for me, so my mother's private quarters were littered with my paintings, sculptures and various carvings. She also kept several volumes chronicling my various writing projects and poems. I had several siblings, as was the usual in those days. I was never especially close with any of them, in fact I spent most of my time around people of lesser societal standing. They always tend to be less judgmental and quicker with a kind word.
My days were filled with many projects ranging from improv poetry and storytelling sessions with my friends to overseeing various projects assigned to me by my father. My very last major project was designing and overseeing the installation of clay tubes under our city streets that carried waste away from our buildings. Nowadays these are known as sewers, back then it was just known as a god idea. Unfortunately in those days very little was known and even less understood about the reasons one would want to be careful when overseeing a project like this. In retrospect this may have been the oversight/realization that would lead to me becoming a full on perfectionist/neat freak.
As the noon hour approached the servants were beginning to prepare my lunch and my mother had come for a visit. Dressed in modest clothing considering her station, she pulled up a chair at my bed side and began to dab my forehead with a cool wet cloth.
"How are you feeling" she asked.
"Bad" was all I could muster.
"I have prayed to the Gods, I have sought out the best healers, I do not know what to do my son, I have no more options."
"I will be ok, mother, do not worry yourself." I said with less than a hint of sincerity."
" It has been two weeks and you have only gotten worse. I am going to pay a visit to the oracle and see if we can get some help there."
"No!" I said so clearly I surprised even myself. "she will demand a high price, and that is not something I can let you do for me."
My mother stiffened her upper lip and gave me her best serious face and said" son, there is no price so high that I would not pay it to keep you in my life, never question this."
"but mother, the cost with the oracle is not always money" I said "if there is a deal to be made to save me from this fate, let me be the one to make it"
she thought about this for a second and said "well, if you can get out of that bed and stop me, I will not go, otherwise we will talk about this more tomorrow when I have more answers from the oracle."
As she was saying this she started to get up and move away from the bed and the servants began to set up my lunch dishes around my bed. "Do not do this, mother. Just give me more time to get better, I feel as though I will be through this and back to my old self soon." I said trying with every fiber of my being to sit up and not look like I was about ready to pass out from exhaustion.
As she walked out of my chambers she said "rest my son, tomorrow is a new day"
As the day wore on there were servants coming and going and the sun sank slowly in the sky. My thoughts were filled with what answers my mother would bring back from the oracle and how I could convince her that whatever the oracle said I could handle this on my own.
The moon rose to its pinnacle in the night sky my mother approached the doorway the oracles residence. Her anxiety level was off the chart. The very thought of losing her youngest son chilled her to the bone and filled her with such a feeling of despair it was all she could do to keep her body moving forward. As she entered the front room she could smell the aroma of various herbs and oils being simmered in a kettle. Somehow those smells were always a comfort to her. The oracle appeared out of the corner of of the room as if from nowhere.
"Your troubles will be over by dawn" said the oracle "he will be on the right path by then, do not worry" Hearing the words only tightened every muscle in my mother's body and suddenly she was very angry with the oracle.
"I have not even asked my question" she stammered "do you mean for me to believe that you already know the reason I am here?"
"do you mean for me to believe that you didn't already know that I did?" asked the oracle.