The Book That Spoke

Leo couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. The classroom had lapsed into its usual murmur of turning pages and Professor Hargrove speaking on the fall of a man who had once ruled an empire, but for Leo, the air seemed charged with some otherworldly tension. He looked down at Julius Caesar, and it was no longer a book. The paper felt different beneath his fingertips, warmer, almost pulsing with some hidden energy.

"Leo," Mara whispered, her head cocked to one side. She's caught the way he seems to glance right through her. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Leo said, shaking off the strange feeling and plastering on a smile. "Just… tired, I guess." He didn't mention the way words on the page seemed to shimmer, as if to mock him with the knowledge he was only scratching the surface.

The class droned on, but Leo's mind else where, slicing apart every detail of what just happened moments before. When finally the bell rang, ending lecture, he stuffed the book into his backpack and got out of the door, half-registering Hargrove's parting comment about "the choices that define us".

Mara fell into step beside him as they strolled through the quad. Chatter and fresh grass filled the campus-the scene of students lounging in shade, hurrying to the next class. Leo's phone started buzzing inside his pocket and he reached in to examine it: reminder for his library shift that night. He groaned. So far, the day seemed to drag on, without noon yet arrived.

"So what's going on in that staring contest over there?" Mara asked with sparkling curiosity, peeling away at the layers around everyone like it was some kind of layered onion. Truth is, Leo didn't even know he wanted to.

"Just thinking about that assignment," he mumbled, half-truths dancing off his tongue.

She raised an eyebrow, skeptical but said nothing as they entered the courtyard. She let it fall, waving at him with a radiant smile, "Don't forget historical narratives seminar tonight, and I'll catch you then."

"Of course," Leo nodded, letting her walk away before turning back in the direction of his dorm. He needed a break, some time to clear his head. Maybe that's why he ended up at the library, looking for refuge among the towering stacks and the scent of old books and ink.

The library was despondently abandoned except for some of the students scattered about around the reading tables. Leo got into his corner with that torn copy of Julius Caesar, flipping to that page that had given him the chill. Nothing was strange now. The words are just words. They're unchanging and utterly ordinary.

But as his fingers ran across the page, he felt it again: a pulse, a subtle vibration, as if the book itself were alive. A bead of sweat formed on his temple as he stared, and before he could even process what was happening, the air around him thickened, bending in a strange, shimmering wave.

A sudden gust of wind burst through the room, rattling paper on the floor and sending shivers down him. Library lights flickered disjointedly on the wall. He had no heart to think, but instinct took over. He reached out, grasping the book just when pages began glowing with a warm golden light spreading out until it seemed to fill the entire room with an eerie light.

And then it was gone. Silence. Only Leo was left standing there, staring at his shaking hands as they held the book. He took a deep breath and sensed that something was wrong. He was no longer in the library.

Before him lay cobblestones of an ancient Roman street, thronged with folk in tunics and sandals, whose voices were loud and unrecognizable. The air smelled of wood smoke, fresh bread, and something metallic—blood, perhaps. He stumbled back against a column nearby, the stone abrasive against his palms. He dressed a man in a toga stared at him with a dazed expression, mumbled in Latin, and moved on. Leo took it all in as he could, splendor of the Forum, giant columns, statues of gods that seemed almost alive as they looked at him. And here's Leo Carter, modern college student, standing on the precipice of history. In that moment he knew he had done it: He opened a portal to Ancient Rome.