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essieignis-blog · 8 years ago

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Tale through Time, Part One

I fell through a black space, void of color and sound. I drifted along endless black waves that carried me through time and space, never ending. My body hovered in a vacuum less void for what felt like eternity before it dumped me onto wet leaves and long, scratchy grass. The forest is full of life, birds, mice, deer, and other creatures whose home is so wet.

The sky is dark with rain clouds and the musty smell of a fresh woodland shower still hangs in the air. Aside from the fact that my memory is blank of the past few years, I have no way of knowing how long I have been lying on the ground. My clothes are soaked with rain and my bones are so cold they are rattling. I need to move, I need to walk, find shelter, and rest.

The next few hours are all a cold wet blur, I released my mind of shock and accepted the primal instinct of survival to get me through. Before I find enough wood to start a fire, I need to hunt for an unoccupied cave for protection. My shirt is thin and ripped, my jeans are intact but wet, my shoes are still on my feet and I have both of them, that is something to be thankful for. Yet I have no wallet, no keys, and no phone. Shelter, I need shelter, then I can worry about finding a town and getting help, right now the forest has just a few hours before dark I won’t be able to find any town in the dark.

The tree’s of the forest seem to be leading me in a specific direction if that direction is home, I have no idea. The plants all look the same, the animal’s all sound the same, and the rain has started to pummel against my frozen skin. I wandered around the forest looking for shelter, food, and dry wood, until I walked right onto a dirt and gravel road. Still surrounded by trees and animals, I felt a little closer to civilization then when I was walking aimlessly through the woods. Even though I have no idea which direction to embark on now.

I stand in the misting rain waiting for the universe to show me a sign. If I walk to the right I could walk out of wherever I am, if I choose the left, I could be walking straight into some ones private property, and vice versa. The honest truth is that I have no idea what path to choose. As if the earth itself wanted me to decide even faster, I can now hear the soft galloping of hooves from my right side. I have no intention of being willingly caught by the people who own this property, but what choice do I have? No phone, and no food. With my mind made up I stood on the road and waited for the rider of the horse to approach.

I can hear the hooves pounding the earth as it runs, I can hear the men yelling. Suddenly, as if my mind split in two, I realized several things, I must be North Dakota, I haven’t heard a car, or semi on the highway in hours, and it is the only thing I can remember before my memory went blank, aside from needing to find help. I realized that one horse suddenly sounds like six, and each horse is occupied by a rider. My instincts battled with my own stubbornness. I want to stay and meet these riders, even if it is to settle the score with myself. Logic blossomed then, or the intense feeling that something is wrong became too great to fight. Whatever the reason I found myself scurrying back in the tree line and crouching behind a large, sturdy fallen tree right before the beasts round the corner.

Six riders clad in black cloaks with weapons drawn appeared like black lightning from the corner. Horses pushed to the max of their strength as the riders yell back and forth to each other, I can hear bits and pieces of the conversation but nothing substantial enough to understand their need for speed. Before I could identify the chaos on my own, the source of the disturbance burst from the wooded corner like a crimson wave of justice. Nine red cloaked riders rode after the black lightning at top speed. These men were not talking simply focused on the task of the chase. One man leads the others, his black and red cloak flying in the wind like a symbol of right and wrong, good and bad, peace and justice. His black horse stood strong and unyielding, even beneath the urges of his master the horse appeared in little hurry to catch up to the ragged black riders. With their tired horses wheezing from poor care and misuse.

I detached myself from my hiding place and resolved to sit on the log instead of hide behind it. The last few riders passed by me with no more than a glance. I assume I look rather rough and out of place, with my long black locks tousled this way and that, my ripped shirt, my face and arms smeared with mud and other tasteless crumbles from the earth. What am I to do now? I just watched a movie scene in person. If all goes well soon the crew will pop out and start yelling at me about being in their shot, then I can get a phone and call, who exactly? My memory is still hazy but I know I have a home, someone to call, somewhere to go other than a movie set. I must remember someone’s number, there has to be someone waiting for my call.

I start to fight with my shock and panic again while I wait for a crew member to scold me on ruining their perfect take. The rain is starting up again, harder than before and I am afraid that no crew member is going to come waltzing out to help me. The birds and other beasts of the forest are silent now waiting for the thunderstorm on the horizon to shake the trees. Huddled in their warm dry homes away from chasing bandits and covered from the freezing downpour. I peeled myself off of the log and walked back down to the road.

Hot tears formed in the corners of my eyes and I began to weep. What for I could not say. I’m lost. Surrounded by unfamiliar woods with no idea who, or where I was before today. My instincts long forsaken me, I give in to my dread and kneel in the road until my eyes ran dry, at least from my own tears. As if echoing my sadness the storm has picked up, roaring in the sky above me and making the ground shake. I stood, wiped my eyes of tears, and turned left toward the black and red riders.

Finding my way along the road is much easier than trudging through leaves and trees. The storm hasn’t let up one iota and I am beginning to think that the riders may have rode too far for me to reach, yet I keep walking hoping someone will show themselves soon. A tree branch broke close enough for me to hear, I turned in time to see a fuming man dressed in black fly out of the trees and toward me. I retreated to the other side of the road dodging the wild man’s attacks. I spotted a fallen branch a few paces to my left, angling as best I can in this condition I try to get closer to the branch without taking a slice from the crazed sword. He swings his blade wide, wide enough for my small frame to snuggle close to him, tree branch forgotten I move in. My right heel goes down hard on his foot as I reach up and hold the joint of his elbow, taking away his free movement I use my other hand to grab his shoulder and bring my knee to his chest. He buckles giving me the last chance I will need to end this little skirmish.

I grab his sword hand with both of mine and yanked hard on the sword, it slid like butter from his grasp. He lunges, recovering enough for a panic attack, I swing my right hand up intending to block, instead slapping him across the face with the back of my hand hard enough to send him flying backward. Red shadows dance along the corners of my eyes, encouraging me to pursue my prey, to end this silly duel. I sprang into the air landing on the man's chest with my knees, the sword held high above my head, I slash.

Time seems to slow, the rain pauses it’s endless shower long enough to carry the blood curdling sound of metal hitting metal to my ears. The man in black below me, eyes wide with fear and wonder I see nothing else, only the slow recession of red rage. My sword is parried with ease, sliding on it’s steel shaft with enough force to knock the blade from my hand and fly gracefully through the air, landing hilt up in the ground.

“By order of Camelot you will release this man from your knees.”

A deep husky, yet somehow musical voice spoke through the thunderous rain. I looked up into the indigo colored eyes of a man with authority and power. That much is easily discerned, other men surround me and the rider in black. With a sharp sword point at my throat I yield to these mysterious riders, standing up from my battle and facing the blue eyed blond haired beauty in front of me. Towering above me at six feet I stand at my full five feet nine inches, daring him to force his authority on me.

Men moved around us to collect the rider and the sword was lowered from my throat. Feeling a bit safer I rolled my shoulders back and relaxed a little. The rider in black and red watched me with curious eyes.

“What is your name?” He asked sounding honestly curious about what kind of name I have. That would make two of us. My mind raced to find the answer, not for this man but for me. What is my name? Suddenly, as if the tides of the air pushed in on my stomach forcing me to utter a single word I say, “Emery.” Not knowing if that is my true name I do not falter, especially with my voice sounding so weak, this causes the man to lower his sword even further.

“Why are you here?” Another good question, why am I here? Better yet how did I get here? This time the air will not help me, and the universe has left me to my own devices. All I can do is stare blankly at the tall blond viking man with indigo eyes and pray he sees me as an ally.

“What are we going to do with her my Lord?” A man asked behind the tall one, disrupting the tingling silence between the two of us. “Bind her hands, we are taking her back to Camelot.” Obviously I am not viewed as an ally. My hands properly tied, I was helped up onto a horse that a large man with shoulder length wavy hair rode. His face looks as if the Gods themselves carved it out and kissed it with their lips of magic cursing him with wild viking beauty. He smiled at me while I was being launched onto his saddle, “My name is Lancelot, I hope I don’t ride too rough for the lady.” He said in my ear, hot breath warming the skin on my neck and rousing goose flesh all over my body.

“On me.” The blond haired beauty said after all the men are mounted, two of them with extra weight, they formed a tight formation around the man. When he roused his lazy black stallion to a gallop the men followed his example. Soon we were back on the road heading toward the direction of who knows what. The last thing I see that I recognize is the log I so foolishly crawled out from behind of. If only I had waited to see if the riders returned I could have followed them to a city, or town, instead of getting caught up in this intense LARP-ing match. Instead I let my emotions get the better of me and I victimized myself instead of preparing myself for a long walk. I vow to keep calm and learn until I can get myself home, wherever that may be.

Within a few miles of constant gallop my body started to shake uncontrollably. With the excitement of the fight, and the sudden view of two ancient viking Gods revealing themselves to me, I didn’t have time to realize how cold I am. My fingers are visibly blue, I can’t feel my toes in my shoes or the ropes around my wrists. My hair feels like icicles on my skin and the plastered locks on my back only help the cold dig deeper into my flesh. A flash of red swooped across my tired eyes view, Lancelot’s cloak settled over my chest and arms. I heard a snap at my neck and before I cared where his hands were lying I felt him slide them under the cloak and settle on the reigns. His forearms resting on my frozen thighs. The warmth of his cloak reminded me of a Winter fire, his smell still lingering like cedar chips and earth on his cloak. I lean into him not caring how I smell just needing to be warm. His chest is hard against my back and warm through his chain mail. Little heat escaped his armor at first but slowly I start to feel my back warm and my body relax. I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. The last thing I remember before letting sleep take me away is bright green trees reaching toward the cloudy sky.

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