Professor RV's Warning
The classroom buzzed with low chatter as the students filtered in, clutching notebooks and half-finished lattes. Professor RV — a man whose crisp suits and sharp glasses always made him look slightly out of place in their worn-out lecture halls — leaned against the desk, watching them. His expression was mild, but Gems always thought there was something unreadable in his eyes, as though he saw deeper into their ambitions than they wanted.
"Alright," RV began, adjusting his papers. "How goes the great thesis of the century?"
Amos stretched in his chair, grinning. "Flourishing, sir. We're practically rewriting history."
Ry smirked. "We've decided to… take the scenic route."
RV raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"
"We're going to Italy," Ry announced, as if revealing a plot twist. "To the Appian Way itself. First-hand research."
A murmur spread through the class.
RV's expression did not change, but his silence stretched long enough that even Amos shifted uncomfortably. Finally, RV spoke, his voice quieter than usual.
"The Appian Way," he said slowly, "is not merely a road. It is a graveyard of empires. Built for triumph, used for slaughter. Do you know what happened after Spartacus' rebellion?"
Marky answered carefully. "Six thousand slaves were crucified… their bodies lined along the road."
RV nodded. "Their corpses rotted in the sun for weeks. The stones absorbed their blood, their agony. And that was only one chapter. Roman legions marched there, carrying both victory and death. Merchants dragged their wares there, many never returning. The Appian Way has seen more suffering than joy."
Amos gave a half-smile. "That's what makes it perfect for us."
RV's gaze cut sharply to him. "No. What makes it perfect is its endurance. Its stones still stand when empires have crumbled. But don't mistake endurance for innocence."
The room fell silent. Even Ry's grin faltered.
RV sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "If you go, do not go as tourists chasing thrills. Go as scholars. Respect what you walk upon. Roads remember."
The words lingered long after class ended.
---
Family Reactions
That weekend, each of them broke the news at home.
Gems sat across from her parents at their small wooden table. Her father's hands were calloused from years of carpentry, her mother's back hunched from endless shifts at the market.
"It's… abroad?" her mother asked, frowning.
Gems nodded. "Rome. Ry said he'll cover my expenses."
Her father's jaw tightened. "We don't take charity, Gemma."
"It's not charity," she said quickly. "It's… investment. It will make our thesis stronger. Maybe even open doors for me later."
Her mother exchanged a look with her father. Then she sighed, brushing Gems' hair back like she had when she was a child. "If you must go… promise you'll be careful."
Gems swallowed the guilt pressing her throat.
Marky told his mother after dinner. She was a quiet woman who rarely interfered in his decisions, but when he said the word Italy, her spoon clattered into her bowl.
"The Appian Way?" she whispered. "That road where they hung men like crows?"
Marky blinked. "You… know about it?"
"I read once," she murmured, her hands trembling slightly. Then she crossed herself, whispering a prayer. "If you must go, my son, promise me you'll keep your heart strong. Evil clings to places like that."
Marky hugged her tightly, trying to hide his own unease.
Ry had no such trouble. His father, a sleek businessman with graying hair, barely looked up from his phone.
"Italy? Fine. Use the credit card. Send your itinerary to your mother. Just don't embarrass the family."
Rica, who was sitting with them, squeezed his hand under the table. Ry only smirked, pretending not to care about his father's indifference.
Amos got a very different response. His parents, both high school teachers, were ecstatic.
"You're finally doing something scholarly!" his mother cried, hugging him. "Italy! Imagine, you'll walk where Caesar walked."
"Just don't flirt with Italian girls while Liz is around," his father teased, earning a playful smack from Amos.
Au's parents teased her mercilessly.
"You? Ancient roads?" her older brother laughed. "I thought you were afraid of potholes."
"Ha-ha," Au muttered, but her mother only hugged her. "Take Bob. He'll keep you safe."
Bob, who was standing awkwardly nearby, only smiled and promised he would.
---
The Preparations
Back at the dorm, Liz spread out her laptop and notebooks like a general preparing for war.
"Alright, children," she said, "I found a guide."
They were gathered in Ry's apartment, the one with the leather couches and panoramic view of the city. Rica was curled beside him, Au leaned against Bob, Amos sprawled across the carpet, Marky sat with his notebook, and Gems occupied a chair at the corner.
"His name's Alessandro," Liz continued. "He's a local historian, knows the Appian Way inside and out. Charges a little high, but Ry's wallet can handle it."
Ry rolled his eyes but didn't protest.
"I also booked us a villa just outside Rome. Close enough to commute, private enough not to drown in tourists. And we'll have a rented van for transport. Everything's set."
Amos let out a low whistle. "Marry me, Liz."
"Too late," she said sweetly.
Gems leaned forward. "What about permits? Some parts of the Appian Way are protected."
Liz smiled. "Handled. Alessandro said he can get us access."
Rica clasped her hands together. "This is going to be amazing. Imagine walking on stones two thousand years old. Imagine the pictures!"
Amos grabbed his phone. "Selfies with history, here we come."
Only Gems seemed unmoved. Her fingers tapped restlessly against her knee.
Marky noticed. "What are you thinking?" he asked quietly.
She hesitated, then said, "Everyone's excited, but… roads are built on people. And this one is built on bones. Doesn't that bother anyone?"
He wanted to say yes, but before he could, Amos cut in. "Bother me? No. This is our chance to make something unforgettable. And if ghosts wanna photobomb me, they better be ready for Instagram."
The room erupted in laughter again, washing away Gems' unease.
Marky, though, kept his eyes on her — memorizing the way her brow furrowed, the way her lips pressed into a thin line. She wasn't being dramatic. She was being careful. And he admired her all the more for it.
---
Departure Looms
The week flew by in a blur of paperwork, packing, and giddy anticipation.
On the eve of their departure, they met at the airport — nine young people buzzing with energy. Gems clutched her modest suitcase, standing beside Marky. Ry rolled up with designer luggage, Rica beside him. Amos carried three backpacks, Liz balancing a travel pillow. Au and Bob held hands, smiling despite the exhaustion of late-night packing.
Professor RV had come to see them off. He shook each of their hands, but his words to Gems lingered.
"Stay steady," he told her. "Roads can whisper. Don't listen too closely."
She frowned, but before she could ask, the boarding call echoed overhead.
As they filed toward the gate, laughter and chatter filling the air, Gems glanced back once.
RV stood alone, his expression shadowed, as if he were already mourning something lost.