Lions' Thug

I Jova Hackam. I was looking at the strange man puzzled.

that drips oil.

I felt like I was remembering something, or more accurately predicting that in the future I would witness something like this.

I will meet a man in a place of oil and wine, a man dripping oil.

The rules were that prickled not to use a trees magic in the arena, or he would lose the leadership position sought by the competitor, so I wouldn't use it, and despite this, I deserved my title (lions' thug).

The mysterious man approached me, took out a huge dagger from his negligee, and then stabbed my side with a quick, horrid stab, which tore my kidneys and my stomach.

The pain was so terrible, that I fell to my knees for it in amazement, and the man retreated quietly and quickly to leave me like this.

An unknown woman whispered into my mind:

- "Resist, Jova, go back to your time."

I felt such great dread, and confusion, that my mind was scattered, and I opened my eyes suddenly to find myself in the winepress, and before me the wise Noveo.

Noveo, feeling out of control, awoke and quickly retreated, repeating to the Viscount but in Orioumish:

- "Kill him."

The Viscount fell upon me with his sword, and it seemed to him that the wise was already working on killing me with his means, but it seemed he had not succeeded, and I repulsed him quickly, but suddenly I felt a terrible pain with the movement of my arm, centred on the side of my body.

I looked at my body as I repelled the viscount's deadly blows, and found a bloodstain expanding rapidly.

My clothes weren't torn, as if it was an old injury that had opened again.

and remembered.

I remembered the day I was wrestling with that lion, and I was stabbed by an unknown person.

The memory was not for me all my life, it only appeared now, as if the past had been rewritten in a new way.

surprising.

Wiggieri turned around and managed to take advantage of my injury, knocking down my sword, and stabbing my stomach.

The sword stab was in the same spot as the old dagger's stab.

Which happened due to some magical time breach.

The pain was horrific.

The destruction that tore my guts, made the wave of pain hit my brain hard, knocking out my consciousness somewhat.

I fell to the ground, saliva collected in my mouth.

The rest of the guard poured into the winepress and besieged me, but the wise man shouted at them:

"No, go away, he'll spit on you."

The sentence was normally ridiculous, and perhaps insulting, but they realized what the spit of a prickled with a bastamic thorn could do. I was already preparing to send them to heaven, had the viscount surprised me with a torrent of fresh wine upon my face.

In other cases, it would have cheered me up, but now all this wine spoiled my saliva and sweat. The only good thing is that I swallowed some hoping to relieve the terrible pain.

The damn magic of the seven trees. Moments ago my guts were working fine... all of a sudden it was torn apart by a stab in the past. A stab remembered the necessities of her job just now. A timeless stab.

The ferocious viscount gasped and raised his sword to separate my head from my body, but the wise said abhorrently:

"no"

He had another death in store for me.

And with a new touch, he sent me to another past.

But this time it was his past because I had never in my life boarded a slave ship.

***