Now, as she was standing a few feet away from Dagomarus, that cold, lonely feeling started to creep into her bones. She felt dread seeping into her thoughts, and underneath it, his concern for her. She realized that even though Dagomarus was somewhere else in his mind, he was thinking of her. She tried to concentrate on what she felt coming from Dagomarus. She started shivering, feeling a chill so deep that she thought her insides would freeze solid.
Dagomarus felt a caress in his mind and immediately knew that she was pushing at him, trying to get in without realizing what she was really doing. He pulled back from his ruminations and clamped down hard on his thoughts, shutting out everything. The effect was immediate; her head snapped back as if she had been slapped. She looked at him in shock and just a touch of fear.
"What was that?"
Her shock from getting mentally shoved wore off quickly, but the fear remained. He looked away from her for a moment and then slowly walked up to her and met her questioning gaze. She couldn't move; her muscles locked. She felt light-headed, and her stomach felt like there were a thousand worms roiling in a massive ball. Her skin felt hot and itchy, but her blood cooled quickly. This contrasting and confusing set of sensations frightened her.
Then she felt a caress in her mind, like a gentle breeze. She was falling into those deep pools of blue, the violet swirls caressing her as she sank deeper and deeper. Her vision narrowed to a pinpoint, going dark around the edges.
Then there was a flash, an image. It lasted only a millisecond, but the aftereffect hung in front of her, like the blue spots that float in your eyes after a camera flash. She saw a soldier standing on a hilltop. His dress was familiar; she had seen soldiers dressed like this in paintings and frescoes. He was a Roman soldier, the oiled leather breastplate gleaming in the sunlight, his head held up proudly as he surveyed his surroundings.
Another flash; thousands of Roman soldiers lined up in a valley, facing thousands of screaming barbarians.
Flash.
Swords coated in blood swung in the sunlight. Her breathing became labored; sweat broke out on her forehead. She could feel the sun on her neck and the weight of the sword in her hand as it hit flesh.
Flash.
A barbarian running through the trees, screaming. Her heartbeat thundered in her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps.
Flash.
The hacked and bloody body of the barbarian lying on the ground at her feet. She could smell the bitter iron of fresh blood in her nostrils; the swollen, dry taste of fear was in her mouth. The silence of the forest surrounded her, heavy and smothering.
Flash.
Two red spots floating in the shadows underneath dense treetops, a ground-shaking growl shattering the silence.
Flash.
Black fur and teeth flashing in her face, searing pain crushing her chest, a ragged scream escaping her parched throat.
Flash.
The headless body of a giant black wolf lying on the ground next to the hacked body of the barbarian. She felt the torn flesh on her arms, the blood running down her chest as the wounds at her throat oozed. Then she felt herself rising out of the blackness, her heartbeat slowing and her breath returning to normal. She could still feel the sweat on her body, turning clammy as her body temperature cooled. She saw now those deep blue pools of his eyes, feeling the warming sensation of the love and concern for her filling her chest.
Suddenly feeling her muscles all relax, she swayed, trying to stay on her feet. She reached out for something to help hold her up and felt his soft fur in her hands. She grabbed onto him, leaning over his shoulders, her knees weak and shaking. She let out a long, shuddering breath.
"Wha—"
Her voice cracked; her tongue felt dry and thick. She needed something to wash that horrible taste out. She slowly raised herself off of Dagomarus, holding onto him with one hand.
She turned, still slightly dizzy, and on wobbly legs walked over to a chair next to the table and flopped into it. She reached over to her backpack and pulled out her canteen. Her hands shaking, she slowly raised the canteen to her lips and filled her mouth with the tepid water. She swished it around for a few seconds and then swallowed it. She leaned forward, lowering her head between her knees. She felt sick as the water hit her roiling stomach. She fought the urge to throw up.
"What was that? I was looking through your eyes, wasn't I? You were a Roman soldier, weren't you? That giant black wolf attacked you, and you killed it. It infected you with something that turned you into this, didn't it?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper, hoarse from her ragged breathing and the screams she hadn't heard ripping out of her throat. Dagomarus nodded his head, not quite meeting her gaze. He took a deep breath and slowly let it out through his nose. He was relieved that his effort to keep the deeper emotions and the raw pain of his experiences from overwhelming her had succeeded.
Still, he could tell she was drained from the experience. He needed to give her time to truly comprehend the full ramifications of what he had shown her. In the past, superstition and the belief in mythical creatures hadn't been that much of a stretch for people to accept, but modern civilization had weeded out that awe of the supernatural. She was going to have a hard time with what he had shown her.
She watched him nod his head, and the thoughts racing through her mind jumbled together suddenly, coming together like a car wreck at an intersection. Her body went still when it hit her; this creature had been a man, a Roman soldier almost two thousand years ago, and now he was a giant wolf standing in front of her. Before she could think to calm herself, her body lurched forward, and the contents of her stomach shot out of her mouth onto the wooden floor.
She fell out of the chair onto her hands and knees and retched again. Her back arched as her stomach contracted, and yellow bile flowed out of her mouth. She coughed and spat. Her whole body began shaking in effort; she dry-heaved several times. Closing her eyes to the mess in front of her on the floor, she finally stopped retching and calmed down. Still shivering from the effort her body had just gone through, she sat back and reached for the canteen to wash the bitter aftertaste out.
She drank some of the water after rinsing out her mouth and resisted the urge to heave it back up. Finally, her stomach settled down, and she was able to push herself up into the chair. She wiped her mouth on her sleeve and looked at him. He hadn't moved, just watched and waited for her. He hated to see her in this much distress, but she had to get through it before he could finish his story. She finally got herself under control and stared back at him, just shy of making true eye contact. She wasn't sure if the connection would reassert itself if she did. She looked away finally and stared out the window, gathering her fleeting thoughts and trying to make sense of them.
"You really are almost two thousand years old, aren't you? You've seen it all; you've lived through what the rest of us only read in history books. On top of that crazy idea, you're a werewolf? What kind of insanity is that? How is that possible? Immortality? Shape-changing? Shit!"