Page 24 of Never Quite Gone

“Everything,” he finished for me, his fever-bright eyes holding mine. “You feel everything.”

The moon's light streamed through the temple's columns,turning the space around us into something sacred and strange. In that silvered moment, I allowed myself to admit what I'd known since they first carried him in—this was more than healing. More than duty. More than anything the mortal realm could explain.

“Rest,” I commanded softly, though my hand remained caught in his. “Dawn approaches, and healing requires strength.”

“I've strength enough for truth,” he murmured, echoing his earlier words. “And the truth is, I've been searching for you across lifetimes. Even if I didn't know it until now.”

I sat beside Alexandros, my body heavy with exhaustion but my heart lighter than it had been since they brought him in. His fever had broken in the night, and now clarity shone in those sea-green eyes.

“You stayed,” he said, his voice hoarse but steady. The surprise in his tone spoke of a man unused to others keeping vigil.

“Of course I stayed.” I began gathering my medicines, trying to maintain professional distance. But before I could rise, his hand caught my wrist, his touch sending sparks through my flesh like divine fire.

“I dreamed of you,” he said, his words low but intense. “Before we ever met. I saw your hands healing warriors, saw your eyes across battlefields. The gods themselves showed me visions.”

My heart stuttered in my chest. “How do you know all of this?”

“I... I don't know,” he admitted, frustration coloring his tone. “In my dreams, I saw visions. They told me to seek you here, that I would find safety in your hands.”

I froze, my own dreams rushing back like a tide—dreams of a warrior with eyes like the storm-tossed sea, dreams that had haunted my sleep for years before he appeared in my temple. Sofia's words whispered through my mind: Some souls are too big for one lifetime.

The moment stretched between us, heavy with unspoken recognition.But before either of us could speak further, a familiar voice echoed from the temple entrance. Valerius, my mentor and friend, approached with his usual measured grace.

“The gods have blessed your healing, Elias,” he said warmly, his experienced eyes assessing Alexandros's improved condition. “Though I never doubted they would. Your gift grows stronger with each passing season.”

“I learned from the best,” I replied, grateful for his steady presence. Valerius had guided me since I first came to the temple, teaching me not just the art of healing, but the sacred responsibility it carried.

“Your warrior's recovery is remarkable,” Valerius observed, genuine pleasure in his smile. “Perhaps when he's stronger, you might share your treatment methods with my own healers? Such knowledge should be preserved.”

“Of course,” I agreed. Valerius had always encouraged the sharing of healing wisdom between temples. It was one of many reasons I trusted him so deeply.

“I owe my life to Elias's skill,” Alexandros said, his voice carrying both gratitude and something deeper. His eyes met mine, and that now-familiar spark of recognition passed between us.

Valerius's gaze moved between us thoughtfully. “The gods work in mysterious ways,” he said softly. “Sometimes they bring souls together for purposes beyond our mortal understanding.”

After he left to attend his own duties, Alexandros and I fell into easy conversation. He told me of battles and campaigns, of strategies and sieges. I shared knowledge of healing herbs and sacred springs, of the delicate balance between science and divine inspiration.

Our discussions ranged from philosophy to poetry, from the nature of destiny to the proper brewing of healing teas. There was an ease between us that defied explanation—as though we'd known each other for lifetimes, though this was our first meeting.

Sofia watched our growing connection from a distance, her dark eyes heavy with knowledge she wouldn't share. “Be careful, Elias,”she warned one morning. “Some flames burn too bright for mortal hearts to bear.”

But as I met Alexandros's gaze across the healing space, watched him grow stronger day by day beneath my care, I knew it was too late for caution. Whatever sparked between us—this recognition that felt older than time itself—had already taken root.

“Tell me about your dreams,” he asked one quiet afternoon, his voice carrying only to my ears. “Do you see them too? These visions that feel like memories we shouldn't have?”

I hesitated, but truth demanded voice. “I dream of battlefields I've never seen,” I admitted. “Of a warrior with eyes like yours, fighting beneath strange stars. But that's impossible—we've only just met.”

His smile carried mystery like an oracle's prophecy. “Perhaps the impossible is simply truth we're not yet ready to understand.”

That evening, Sofia found me in the temple gardens, her presence as steady as the stars above. “You care for him,” she said simply, no judgment in her voice. “More than a healer should.”

I focused on gathering herbs, avoiding her knowing gaze. “He's my patient.”

“He's more than that,” she replied. “I see how you look at each other. Like you've known each other forever.”

Before I could respond, footsteps approached - Alexandros, moving with growing strength through my herb garden. The moonlight painted him in silver, transforming him from warrior to something divine.

The sacred grove welcomed us like old friends, its ancient olive trees whispering secrets in the evening breeze. Alexandros's hands found my face, his touch gentle as a prayer. “I've waited lifetimes for you,” he whispered, the words carrying truth I couldn't explain but felt in my very bones.

---