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Chapter 43: Two Thousand Years Ago

SEVERUS' POV

TWO THOUSAND YEARS AGO

Water. He needed water. His tongue grazed the roof of his mouth, dusty and dry. How long had he been in the tent? Was he still in the tent?

"Don't move, Your Grace. You've been wounded."

Was that Gaius?

"No, don't try to speak, Your Grace. The healer will be here soon."

No healer would be able to help him. Severus was certain of that. Death had already slipped its icy fingers around his bones, settled deep in his chest. He knew the end was coming. He could no longer remember what injured him, barely remember he was leagues away from home. All he wanted was to be in his own bed, the warm, salt-tinged air lulling him to sleep.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Someone was yelling. There was a commotion.

"How? How are you doing this?"

Who was talking? What was happening? He couldn't see anything.

There was more struggling, but Severus barely noticed. The fever had swept over him, and all he could think about was water. He just wante
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