We recently got an old parchment discovered inside an ancient Roman military camp. Time has ruined most of it, yet a small part was readable. It told of two characters—Lucius Salvinus, a legionary commander who was the writer, and Shenou, his slave. 

Their story ran thus.

*

Saturnalia. Once again, the season arrived. 

Plebeians and nobles alike filled Rome with their good spirits. Equality was granted. Drink and food were shared. Gifts were exchanged. Status and titles were forgotten. After a long campaign, I could rest at home with my childhood friend. 

“I carved this for you,” Shenou said, handing me a wooden figure. “Since you liked the Achilles I made last year, here’s Hector.”

“Now I have both the Trojan and the Greek!” I said. “More wine?”

Shenou extended his cup.

“Let’s drink to our heart’s content,” I said, “because once this festival ends, there will be hard work waiting for us.”

“Are you going on another campaign?”

“That would depend on his majesty, the Emperor,” I replied. “Leave the soldiering matters to me. Just work hard so I can pay you extra. You might buy your freedom from me. Let us roam the bars at the Forum Romanum, like when we were young. By next year, my hope is to lose a good slave but regain my friend—”

*

No more could be read from this record. Whether this tale from a thousand years ago ended happily, only the gods may know.