Two flickering orbs floated through the darkness accompanied by the wine-washed voices of two revelers. The Birthday Boy carried a single candlestick. His companion played pack mule burdened with transporting the basket of fruits and cheeses, additional carafes of wine, his lit candle and its unlit brethren, as well as the ancient breastplate. The load was cumbersome but not exceptionally heavy. Lone grapes occasionally leapt from the basket leaving a trail of green and red spherical breadcrumbs in their wake. Their voices echoed off of the walls of the subterranean cavern as they made their way to the safe zone.

“Would it kill you to carry some of this junk, Ponce?” Joey griped while holding a bundle of candles beneath his chin.

“A little casual with the ‘Ponce’ don’t you think, Sergeant?” DeLeon corrected.

“Lighten up, Ponce. It’s your birthday!” Joey replied.

DeLeon stuck out an arm and halted Joey’s progress.

“Let me make this clear to you, Lieutenant. This is the most important of missions that happens to fall on the eve of my twenty-fifth birthday. Not a coincidence I might add. You will assist me as any good right-hand man should. When the mission is complete we will return to the party and you may call me whatever you wish, but until then you will refer to me as. . . .”

“Asshole.”

DeLeon was quick with his backhand. The blow knocked the candles from beneath Joey’s chin and scattered them on the grotto floor.

“Pick those up and meet me at the safe zone, Lieutenant.”

DeLeon stormed ahead. Joey set down the basket of food but held on to everything else that had been loaded onto him for fear of not being able to gather all of the items on his own. He managed to pick up most of the candles and kicked the rest aside. He was greeted at the safe zone by a giddy birthday boy, not an overbearing commanding officer.

“Set the stuff down and help me light the candles.”

A series of wrought-iron candelabras circled a section of grotto floor that had been cleared of all loose stones and packed smooth and flat. DeLeon inserted and lit candles as he traveled the area’s perimeter. Joey met him mid-circumference, lighting candles from the other direction. DeLeon stepped into the center of the circle and surveyed his surroundings. He motioned for Joey to join him.

“This spot is where it will happen, Joseph. It will happen here time and time again.”

“What?”

“My rebirth. I will return to this day many, many times to reset my internal clock.”

“Don’t you mean we will return many, many times?”

“Of course I do. I simply misspoke.” DeLeon put his arm around Joey’s shoulder and pulled him in closer. ”Joseph, we shall be immortals.”

DeLeon turned his attention to the basket set on the floor in front of them.

“Now, time to toast my. . . our rebirth!” DeLeon started to hand Joey a wine glass then thought better of it and handed him an entire carafe of wine. He took a carafe for himself.

“To the life eternal!” he said as he clinked the neck of his carafe against Joey’s.

As the wine crossed his lips DeLeon vanished. A second later he was visible again. Joey noticed similar movement in the safe zone. DeLeon’s form phased back and forth between standing alongside Joey and standing at the center of the glowing candelabras. The version of DeLeon in the safe zone stood with his feet planted squarely shoulder-width apart, his hands planted on the hilt of a sword. DeLeon’s shifting positions created a pulse in the air that Joey felt push against his skin. These mini shock waves caused the pile of fruit and cheeses near Joey’s feet to spill over and the breastplate within it to rock free from the mound of party favors. It vibrated as it slowly slid past Joey. The vestment flipped and skidded across the floor as it was drawn toward the sword-holding apparition at the center of the circle. The armor abruptly twisted upward and hung in space as the form of the elder DeLeon solidified inside of it. The candle flames that dotted the circumference of the safe zone swirled to form a singular ring of fire that shifted from orange to red to purple, blue then green. Each shift of color accelerated the flames. Swells of smoke chased the fiery whirlwind contorting into the form of each of the four mystical elements. The vortex of flame climaxed with a spiral of green smoke taking the form of a viper that blasted upward. The ring of fire spun wildly as it rose to meet the viper that wove between the fang-like stalactites that covered the grotto’s ceiling. The atmosphere of the underground cavern burst with electric green fissures that swallowed the surrounding light.

A flash of utter darkness followed. Joey floated in an emptiness he had never experienced before, an emptiness that could take a man’s breath and possibly his soul. He felt the void squeezing him, compressing him until he thought he would implode. He clawed at the emptiness trying to tear free from its grasp. At the moment he thought he could no longer exist, the circle of candlelight returned bringing with it a sense of being alive.

“Joseph! How good it is to see you, my friend!” DeLeon sheathed his sword and strode towards Joey with his arms open wide. Joey greeted him with a hearty embrace and a pat on the back. “You look just as I remembered!”

Joey took a step back. “You look, well, old. How long did you wait to come back? What year were you in?”

“I’m fifty and we are living in the year two thousand and twelve! Can you believe it? We had a mishap with the suit in the mid nineteen eighties and had to wait twenty-five years to resolve it. All is fine now.”

“Why didn’t I come with you? We always traveled as a pair.”

“Joseph, prior to the issue we had with the armor you and I had many marvelous adventures. One of those trips led to you choosing a different means of maintaining your youth. As with any of the methods we found, yours had unique limitations. I still prefer the armor.”

“What do you mean? How do I stay young?”

“You will discover that soon enough. That trip, if I recall, is just ahead of us. You don’t want me to spoil the fun, do you?” DeLeon punctuated the question with a raised eyebrow.

“And what about Jayne? Where is she?”

“We haven’t heard from Jayne in years. She found her Prince Charming and decided she would rather make his life miserable than ours.” DeLeon laughed. “Enough of this. If I remember correctly there is quite the party happening above us. Time for some wine, women and song! Better yet, some wine, women and more women!”

They both laughed and started to walk in the direction whence they came. DeLeon thrust out his arm halting Joey in his tracks. He slipped free of the breastplate and sword and handed them to Joey.

“First, ready these for my departure. Once finished you may join the party.”

DeLeon gathered a handful of grapes from the pile at their feet and a candle from the nearest candelabra. He snacked as he made his way back to the party.

“Asshole,” Joey whispered.

“I heard that!” echoed back from the light flickering orb that was exiting the grotto.

Joey went about reorganizing the supplies he had carried to the grotto. He neatly piled the remainder of the fruit and cheeses to act as a prop for the breastplate. Joey watched candle flames bounce across the sculptured metal torso. The reflection of the ring of flame behind him contorted across the contours of the armor giving the impression of a woman in agony. Startled, Joey turned quickly to see nothing but the candelabras still illuminating the safe zone. He turned his attention back to the breastplate. It appeared it had become a bit rusty over the centuries since DeLeon had acquired it. Joey picked at the tiny dots that trailed across the breastplate’s clavicle. They popped right off and stuck to his fingernail. He licked his thumb and wiped it across a small speckled section closer to the shoulder. The spots dissolved into a reddish smear. This was definitely not rust.

“Joey.”

A trembling voice floated out from the darkness.

“Joey, help, please.”

“Jayne? Is that you? What are you doing down here?” Joey grabbed a candle and walked toward the voice’s origin. Ahead of him crouched a woman he did not recognize. Her style of dress was foreign to him. She was petite and very fit, her hair pulled back in braids. Her blouse was plain and had short little sleeves. It lacked buttons or laces of any kind. She wore pants made of a faded blue fabric. Joey thought that she must be a very poor peasant girl since her knee was visible through a frayed tear in her trousers. He thought it very odd attire, indeed.

“Who are you? How did you get here?”

“Joey, it’s me, Reese. Don’t you recognize me?”

“I don’t know a ‘Reese’. Stand so I can see you better.”

Joey stepped closer as Reese struggled to her feet, still weak from her ordeal. Joey brought the candle closer to her face. She was pretty despite the raw blisters that covered the crest of her cheekbones. Reese studied Joey as well.

“Joey, you look so much older.”

She reached to touch his face. Joey noticed her badly battered forearm. Reese wobbled but caught herself by grabbing onto Joey’s shoulder.

“Are you okay, Miss?”

“No.”

Reese fainted and fell forward into Joey, knocking the candle to the ground leaving them in darkness. Joey wanted to scoop Reese up and carry her over into the light but her body position only facilitated dragging her like an apache dancer over into the safe zone. He laid her on the floor as gently as he could and went back to the basket to find something to put beneath her head. He wrapped a loaf of bread with a piece of linen to serve as a pillow. He knelt next to her and slid his hand behind her head so he could raise it forward. Something hard and cold was nested within her braid. He laid her back down, twisting her so he could see what it might be. It was one of the companion bracelets to the armor. Not just any bracelet, but his. He double-checked his own wrist to find it bare. Freeing the filigreed silver oval from her braid revealed yet another curious item.

Twisted within the bracelet was an image unlike any Joey had ever seen. It appeared lifelike as if it were a moment frozen in time. He examined it closely. It definitely was not a drawing or painting. The young couple in the image was watching a teenage boy play with a toddler and a jet black puppy. They were laughing at how the puppy was tugging at the youth’s hair. The image made Joey chuckle. The woman in the image was the one lying next to him on the grotto floor. She was snuggled up next to a man who would most likely be her significant other based on how he had his arms wrapped around her. There was something very familiar about the boy. Joey studied the image closer and realized that the boy looked a great deal like a younger version of himself. The resemblance was uncanny.

“Nice dog,” Joey thought.” It sure would be nice to have a dog like that one day.”

Joey flipped the image over to examine the back.

“Help them” was written in his own hand.

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