Sorcerer from Another World

I felt a hand on my elbow. I turned, my heart beating fast despite my near invulnerability, survival responses flooded my anxious mind to fight or run. It was Galen. A confident Chieftain looked to the retreating pair and subtly shook his head at me. 

He lightly put pressure on my elbow to pull me away, “Come we should talk, my friend.”

I let him guide me out of the main celebrations. People who were keen to lavish us with attention moments before, now ignored us. Perhaps more accurately kept clear out of respect. Soon our only company was the stars. 

Out of sight away from curious eyes and the torchlight, he slumped like an empty sack on the log. I knew him for his noble warrior's bearing. Now, I saw the weight he carried. The tension twisted his body into a misshapen shadow of his prime. The pressures of preserving this small society was gradually ruining what birth, effort and privilege had given him. 

If Shamus had fallen to paranoia and fury, then his nephew seemed melancholic and exhausted. He gazed at the shining stars above; his eyes showing life and energy that he once had. 

“It is a grim fate to live in a time of legends. If I was born Roman, maybe I would shine with glory. But, mine are a failing people. I am not like you Damain. I lack your kindness. The others don’t see it. I fight only because my people demand it from me. Before you came they needed me.”

I smiled modestly, “They need you still.”

“I know. Arthur doomed us to the Unseelie. So, I will be exactly who my people need me to be. Myself.” He sighed. “It wasn’t enough, but I did what I could. I led my people against the ancient darkness and the endless brutal roman campaigns. Hopeless. There was no transformation. I was eager for the fight. I had the chance for glory, but never was it my time to be spoken in the songs of my people. I stayed behind, I protected my people so they could live to sing.” 

“Despite my sacrifice, it has never been enough until you came along, Damain. I do not believe in stories, I have lived in too many unsung songs to know better. I trust in your power and your kindness. I took your measure and I saw you have both. Both like an ever flowing spring or whatever flowery language the bards like to use.”

He continued, “Victory…glory …revenge…your own survival these are all the lures and temptations they offer. They strike in many forms, but are always friendly. Seek none of them. Use them if you need to push people. Sometimes we need those driven by darker desires. You aim only to help, to understand, and be grateful to your people. All of them. This is my idea as Chieftain and it is all the help I can offer for the days to come.” 

I nodded thoughtfully in the ways people do to show they are considering things, “I will think on your advice. Seriously…” I struggled with the weight of the next words, “My friend.” 

“You have more enemies than you can understand. I know Arthur and Merlin. Arthur wanted this fight and Merlin paved the way. They fight for their own justice and noble as it is, you will have no place in their vision. Only certain people get to be equal and join their promised future.”

“I am not one of those people.”

He laughed bitterly, “I was too weak. You face the opposite problem. Too strong. The reaction of my Uncle is all you need to see to understand Arthur’s emotions. He will be wiser, more prudent and far stronger than a mere blacksmith protecting his ancestral homeland. But the rage remains.” 

I shrugged, “I could submit. If it brings peace then I don’t mind.”

“You are too powerful like a shining star. Your actions mark you as an outsider compared to us earthly folk.  You are not Amiya and Nazir who can bow low and satisfy the pride of the dragon. When two great powers converge they will clash. It is not a matter of if, but when you fight. Do you understand?”

I nodded, “Yes, I do.”

“Galen, Rebecca is looking for you.” Meredith interrupted  

I couldn’t see her expression, but she spoke a little too cheerfully. Almost like she had heard good news. 

Galen was already standing up straight. He patted my shoulder. 

“We will talk more. Enjoy the celebration. You’ve earned it.” He said to me then walked away.

“You did well out there.” She praised me.

I smiled, “So did you from what I hear.”

“Things might have been different if your…” she raised an eyebrow. “Women, hadn’t stepped in to help.”

“They are not mine. I am theirs. I am here at their discretion.” 

Her eyes went wide at that confession.

“So, if one wanted the power of the Saviour of Ferisdarm they would need only persuade the witch and the druid?” She laughed. “If they were dead what would you do? Serve another or leave?”

I paused. I felt the frown on my face and a swirl of anger irritate my stomach. Dark clouds formed above and thunder rumbled. I didn’t like the question. 

“Is that a threat?”

She flashed a smile, “No, morbid curiosity?” She shrugged bearing a straight face, “I see how much my Uncle relies on you. Depends on you. I was worried if the Saviour will abandon the place that needs him.”

“Is that so?” I pulled on a sea of mana and the very air charged with possibility. In response, the hairs on her arms sprung out and her eyes dilated. “If my treasures are taken from me, I promise retribution. Make no mistake, Meredith. You have seen only a shadow of my power.” 

“You’re loyal only to them, huh.”

“Yes.”

She winked, “I will try not wake the sleeping dragon.” She walked away with a parting wave. “I’ll see you on the battlefield.”

Galen’s conversation still in my mind I muttered, “I am no dragon.” I thought of Morgana. 

If the brother is dangerous, then I should be mindful of Morgana. I took her for a warrior. A weapon. She is far too wise, organised and ambitious for a warrior. I guessed her brother was similar.