Tiberinus

[Patricus I]

The sudden breech of two worlds wasn’t enough to hold him to the surface. He started to slink beneath, but the taste of turbid water on his lips was repulsive. He wanted to slip away until Nimeda floated effortlessly near. A stillness closed around him like the embrace of a watery hug he did not desire. Only the ripple of his hands and legs keeping him afloat revealed any movement at all. Likewise, Philip did not deflect the reach of her hand as she turned his chin. It pivoted his gaze skyward. The shadow of arches loomed higher than he realized for the jump.

When she first met him, she declared him the danger in the waters. He still could not comprehend the difference, unless per chance it was the serenity beneath the surface that courted danger. Was she in this dream? Or was he in hers? Had she seen the lifeless eyes that chased him to the river?

He could hardly look at her, though he did not retract. She remained oblivious of her scandalous appearance inching closer. While he did not approve, the manner of his stillness did not reflect such opprobrium. The effervescent Thalia swam behind Nimeda’s eyes, and he wondered how much, if anything, transposed the two humans.  

“I jumped,” he said and in doing so, revealed the significance of the bridge above. “Safety is an illusion,” he spoke softly, but the draw of his brow was pliant and accepting of the fact. He breathed by grace, not of his own wise choices. To be left to ruling one’s own life was to concede oneself to tyrannical mayhem. Just a bad idea. There was no fear in jumping because death was the safest activity that existed.