Deadlands

The Not-Really-Unexpected Guest

Now they say your destiny is the only path you can take, no matter the choices you choose it will always be there. If you run from it, it only draws closer. If you avoid it, it will constantly reappear. You can't leave it for it will leave with you. It is that voice you cannot silence. The friend you cannot retreat in a battle. It lives in you, it is you. You cannot get rid of yourself no matter how hard you may try.

Trust me, I know the weight it holds. I know the pain it bares, I know the suffering that all would rather die for than live.

It's called surviving. Not winning.

It's called destiny. Not choices.

It's deaths that shouldn't have happened. It's lives that were cut short by the hearts of men who wanted nothing but revenge. A thought that taints the soul that compared to the darkest nights they are daylight in the lives of men.

I close my heavy eyes and let out a withheld breath, today was long and lingered for some time. All the rooms are empty, no one speaks, no one laughs, no loud and obnoxious splashing on the floor. Silence is rare here, it is better with commotion and violence, anything but quiet. Creaking wood echoes, screaming wind, and the tap of water is constant.

The news came late morning, the village close by had been raided and survivors were few. Those that were lucky came here for shelter, by here I mean this area of Camelot, a small town that isn't even named. I call it Rhun, though it goes by other names too. The children call it Ryune, a secret that none can spell or say upon their lips.

That hidden, concealed figure is me.

The magic that gently touches the surface and heals all those that come in contact.

An unseen knock comes to the door which makes me fall to the floor with an awfully loud thud. My back groans as my lips keep closed. I rise from my position and look at the entrance, the image makes my mind doubt itself, I rub my eyes and stare at the person standing before me.

"Hello," he says quite awkwardly but yet showing all the cuteness he has stored, "do you have a room for rent? I-I can't pay much, only a few coins." he pulls from his bag three silver circles and I speak without thinking.

"Oh! Don't worry about payment, have the first day free, since that's how long I'm assuming you're going to stay." he opens his mouth to reply but no comebacks approach.

"H-how do you know that?" he wonders I just roll my eyes and take him to a seat.

"With that little luggage, you don't stay in one place for long sir, I've seen enough men to know who stays and who goes when the wind changes. And just to clear this up, due to your portrait and clothes I take it that you are from Ealdor?"

"Two for two miss! How do you hinder such knowledge?!" he speaks with energy, one that only he can possess and have on display for all to see. One extremely specific person. One who is unlike any other is such extraordinary, yet simple, ways.

"I know a lot sir, but I speak not of it," he gives me a soft smile and a light pink color touch his cheeks. "Would you like anything to drink?"

"O-oh, water please," he says bashfully, "if you hold such liquid in a tavern."

"Oh I hold much more than ale, beer, wine, and other special beverages, the common drinks are those in that category though," I reply with my back turned to him. He shuffles around on the stool and looks around. He seems curious about this environment, he can sense the warmth it holds and brings forth though he cannot place his finger on the source.

"I thought this was a normal tavern, it isn't. It's unique, it's welcoming, but how? And where are those in the village? At this hour it should be busy." I place a glass before him and sit next to him.

"Recently a nearby land was invaded and those who lived escaped here, everyone is taking in children, parents, animals, anyone and anything that needs help. Help is the best we can give, we take in refugees daily and let them develop a sense of identity with us before letting them go back to their original homeland or they stay here and begin a family. We see ourselves as those who guide others to the next step in life, if its children growing up, teens finding themselves, or parents who know what they want to complete in the life before them."

"I wish others were like this, open and accepting-"

"But not all are, their hearts are cold and scabbed with hatred and it turns them into beasts we do not know anymore. They run from our arms and either turn or join forces, we do not know of them anymore. It hurts, I've seen many young men and women run from what they did not know due to the fact others didn't understand-"

"You speak of magic?" my face goes pale as the truth is in the air and thickly laid out.

"Yes," I press my hand against my forehead in defeat, "they often come to my side and plead for a room but I tell them of the Druid, a kind that doesn't reject magic but embraces it with love and acceptance. I do not know if they made it to safety or was caught by Uther's men, it causes sorrow to think of such-"

"I-I am sorry to bring it up," he says handing me a cloth.

"Oh no, it isn't your fault. But when magic is brought up my heart goes heavy and I cannot breathe. For to hide such a burden causes pain that no one should experience but they do at such a young age and it just tears me apart," I slump over and swiftly clean my eyes. "Oh, I am sorry, you do not need to hear me moop around, I am sorry."

"Oh no need, they only thing you are truly exposing is your kindness and soft heart that others cannot understand. To understand one with magic is a gift, for as one who harbors such is a great weight that is better to bare with someone than alone. I know that too well." I hand back the damp cloth and say a quick 'thank you'. As a new sorcerer, he should be careful to whom he shows this too. It could land him in trouble very quickly.

"You have it? Magic?" he beams and holds his hand out.

"Give me your hand." I bring forth my hand and places it in his. "Now, what is your favorite---flower?"

Oh, a classic move. I saw this coming.

"Oh dear, a flower? Amaryllis, my mother used to plant such around our home. I have plenty of joyous memories of them."

"Oh! A rare bulb indeed!" I watch his eyes glow from brown to gold. My heart runs with memories of the night I appeared in his stable to be discovered by his mother and cared for with true motherly love. The bright red plant blooms in my palm and I am filled with such emotions in my chest. "I did it. I did it!"

"Yes, you did! It is gorgeous..." I compliment him, he glances to the side and takes a sip of water to cool his burning forehead for his whole face is as red as the flower. "Thank you for this, now, I am sorry to keep you up, you must be tired."

"Oh, I am in no rush. When I entered, you seem distressed and I wanted to help you. It's the best I could do for my hostess." I give him a smile and place the new decoration in my hair.

"What do you think?" I ask spinning around in the chair.

"Stunning. Absolutely stunning." I steal a second to hide my embarrassed features. His words are kind and can touch those who do not understand love.

"Thank you for this gift, I shall show you to your room," I lead him up the stairs and to the area he should reside at for such a short time. He gets himself comfy and sits down on his bed. "Now, before you sleep, what is your name?"

"Merlin! And yours?"

"Mistress Ana, or just Ana, those who are drunk and try to be proper call me by the first choice," he laughs and shows that contagious beam of joy.

"Thank you, Ana. You have graced me with such a presence I feel as if I am back home. Thank you." I nod my head and give a quick wave.

"Goodnight Merlin."