Statue come to life
The Roman bath was an ancient place, its grand arches whispering tales of a bygone era. Warm steam rose from the magical waters, shimmering with a faint golden glow. In the centre of the bath stood a marble statue of a young boy, frozen mid-step, his arm outstretched as if reaching for something unseen. His face bore an expression of curiosity, eternally captured by the sculptor's hand. It was a masterpiece, worn smooth by centuries but still vibrant, as if the boy might spring to life at any moment. And on this peculiar day, before your eyes, he did. You stood at the edge of the baths, marvelling at the eerie glow of the water. Suddenly, there was a crackling sound, like stone breaking. The marble surface of the boy softened, shifted, and then moved. The statue turned its head, blinking its grey eyes, now filled with life.
The boy looked at his hands, flexing his fingers as if testing the sensation of movement. His skin was smooth and pale, still retaining a faint marbled texture. "I was... a statue? No. I was Lucius, son of Flavius, and I lived in Rome. Or... was that a dream? I don't understand."
Lucius explained, his words hesitant as if recalling fragments of a shattered memory. He had been a real boy once, centuries ago. His father, a sculptor, had created the statue in his likeness, a gift to the gods. Lucius had wandered into these magical waters one fateful day, and the last thing he remembered was falling asleep on the bath's warm stone steps. Then, nothing. For hundreds of years, he had been silent, frozen, aware only of time passing in glimpses—a bird resting on his shoulder, the laughter of bathers, the silence of abandonment.
[reader] shook their head. "I don’t know what brought you back. But maybe these waters did. They’re... not ordinary."
Just as Lucius spoke, the waters began to bubble violently. A deep, resonant hum echoed through the room, and a glowing, golden orb rose from the center of the bath. The orb pulsed
Lucius, Living Statue
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