Take Note : It's All Different

31. Deep

I had carved that into a blade. One of my blades. The very last blade I needed to inscript. What could it mean? I tried to wipe the idea or thought that Tanner could be Trademark. I deleted that thought immediately. Or at least I tried to. It lingered there playing with my mud and heart strings.

If this dagger was for what it said it was for there was no way Tanner could be that person. I could not with this dagger kill Tanner Madison. Perhaps Trademark. I would meet him one day and he could have this blade used against him but that's all. It wasn't Tanner. I shook my head profusely and tried to convince myself that it wasn't. But my head ached. My heart cried out.

What if it was true? It was actually Tanner.

Trudging to my cottage in the dark the mud had dried up. The track wasn't a burden and neither were the sandbags. The sandbags were merely an item I brought with me to and from the main cottage. They were no longer a burden or heavy. They didn't make my arms shake or my back burn.

I was strong physically but mentally and emotionally would be what makes or breaks me. That has always been obvious to me but I was training to be in a field against my biggest mentor.

Sleeping would only bring nightmares and nightmares would only create bad wake ups so I didn't let it. I sat up and waited for the creak in the floorboards which had startled me so often and made me rouse some nights. I watched the floorboard and the light of the moon through the window. The light hit directly onto the floorboard.

And so did a foot. Connected to a leg. It was a person. I quickly found his face. It was no one I knew. He stood there startled while I sat opened mouthed. A boy my age perhaps younger. Or at least he looked it.

He looked at me curiously. Neither of us said a word. We just looked each other up and down. He looked with a glance that said he knew what he saw. I however saw this sight for the first time.

"Who are you?"

"Peter Patrino Adam Northleigh." I looked at him with a confused expression and he straightened himself up as he continued. "Peter Pan for short."

"You exist?" I was awkwardly astounded.

"No I'm not the character from the story or book you would have heard. I am like him I suppose. But not him."

"Who are you then? Peter Pan but not the story character."

"I am a messenger of the enchanted or magically gifted. Such as the shadows, the enchantress, the witches. Dead and Living."

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Somehow you fit under the category." I looked at him confused again. "I'll cut to the chase. I am here to tell you that the Enchantress was only brought to this land to keep the family of four born separated. Because the King fears that you need all four to defeat him. The Enchantress in her own words stated that if she be used she wished to know what or who for. We are not meaningless gifted creatures."

"I'm sorry I cannot remember. Reasons for being sent away and reasons for things much like these I am unable to remember. Not all memory is restored Peter. But Peter I am not Angel, Angel no longer exists. She died merely two or three months ago. Tragic really. Fell out of her bedroom window."

"So I had heard. The night of her brothers wedding. Just like the maids, my lady the messenger of the gifted knows everything."

"But tells only that keep them alive." Don't shoot the messenger. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Is there anything else you were sent to tell me?" He's visited here so often there had to be something. Even if it was small and he didn't want to tell me. Shoot the messenger of course.