An eternity of nothing. No thought. No cares. No memories. Nothing.

Then pain. After so much nothing, this brought focus into an otherwise empty mind. Pain. His shoulder was on fire. His leg burned. Bells were fading into the distance. Somewhere, someone was chanting. Not here. Somewhere else.

No. Somewhen else.

With effort he opened his eyes, blinking away the dust of ground marble that coated him. One hand going to his shoulder, testing it, finding a ring of sticky goo circling where the pain had been. But wasn't now.

His eyes told him the same story of his knee. And that he was atop a pedestal of some sort, from which he climbed down.

He stood in a hallway filled with statues upon pedestals. What possessed the people here to place him on such a plinth, he couldn't fathom. The plaque on the stone he had been standing on read "Unknown, Gianlorenzo Bernini, Circa 1630."

Deciding that this must be his name, not that he liked it much, he walked off.

"Gianlorenzo?" He spoke quietly, his voice slowly adjusting to language once more. "Lorenzo."

Nodding to himself, as he gained the door. "Yes. Lorenzo."

There was a great scandal later that day. Someone had broken into the Medici palace, and stolen one of their greatest treasures. An untitled masterpiece by one of the greatest renaissance sculptors of all time. Gianlorenzo Bernini.

Of the statue there was no trace, save for a fine dusting of marble.

Posted by Martin at June 30, 2003 10:54 PM