Uncertainty

Bright light burned through my eyelids, the spidery veins pulsing in time with my throbbing head. There had been too much cheer, too much merriment, and now there was a price to be paid. 

It seemed like it would be worth it at the time. We were, after all, celebrating a great victory and such things should be celebrated to the fullest extent. But oddly, I couldn't seem to remember what that great feat was or who else was in my company. Losing the night after in a fog of ale was to be expected but to forget what we were celebrating…

A soft sigh had me rolling to see my companion and, although I instantly regretted the movement, I couldn't help the smirk that rode along with my inflating ego. She was a beauty. It was a pity I didn't remember her either.

Creaking floorboards outside my room drew my attention away from her in time to see a folded sheet of parchment slide across the floor. The wax seal held no crest and instantly my curiosity was piqued.

~Merchant quarter

Perfumers street

Bronze nymph

Don't be late~

The handwriting was unknown to me. There was no signature. No time. The sense of urgency that came with the strange note suggested that perhaps the time was now and so, despite the wavering room, I pulled my clothes on, dropped my chainmail over my head and grabbed my trusty double-bitted axe.

“Leaving so soon, my golden bear?”

Golden bear? I couldn’t say that I minded the name. I was an unusually large man and my pale beard and hair was gloriously wild. A true image of a great hero or so I told myself. Grinning at the curvy temptress, I made a show of looking her over thoroughly and, with a wounded sigh, I said, “Just off for a little work, Darlin’. I’ve the room for a week. Feel free to stay.”

Her saucy pout was almost too much but there were things to be done. I had no idea what those things were but they definitely had to be done.

“Hello, Morgan.” Janney the tavern keeper greeted me before I had finished clomping down the stairs.

“Morning, Janney. You’re at it early.”

She frowned at me, her eyes flicking to the window. It was dark outside. My frown matched hers.

“Maybe for you but some of us have customers and can’t carouse into the wee hours of the morning.”

“Who was here last night?” I asked, eyes still fixed on the darkness beyond.

“The usual crowd.” Janney shrugged vaguely. “You headed out?”

Don’t be late.

“Yeah. Got somewhere to be.”

I left Janney to her chores, heading out into the night, and it was truly night. Not thundercloud gloomy but dark as a devil’s heart, pitch black. The missing time, my missing memories. It all left a hollow in me as though parts were left to be filled. Doubt began burrowing deep into my chest. Had I accomplished these heroic deeds? I felt so sure that I had. There were small nicks along the edge of my axe where I had yet to polish them out. Blood still lingered in the links of my chainmail. All evidence of some sort of fight at the very least. But why could I not remember?

With my mind still wrestling with itself, I wandered through the streets but as I entered Perfumer’s Street, I pulled myself together and started scanning the area for a bronze nymph. I was less than familiar with the street. There was no need for me to come here. There was no woman in my life, no permanent woman at least, and being the manly fellow I was, I had no need for such things. Real men, after all, smelled of sweat and blood.

“You’re cutting it fine,” a gruff voice hissed at me from the shadows of a nearby alley. “Get in here before anyone sees you?”

I did as instructed but kept myself alert. I knew the speaker as well as I knew the handwriting on the mysterious note and being instructed to hide in a tight alley… I am a big man, hiding is difficult. Swinging my axe would be more difficult.

“I thought we were to meet at the statue.”

“The statue is the mark. What is wrong with you tonight?” The man spoke to me as though we were familiar, as though I should know why I’m here. There were two choices. I could walk away or I could see how this played out. He continued on, a slight irritation to his tone. “Take the alley on the right. The housekeeper has been paid well to leave a window open on the second storey. Slip in, grab the talisman.”

“You want me to climb up a wall and into a tiny window? Are you mad?” Someone had to be.

“What’s your problem? Are you drunk? This is child's play to you.” His voice became strained, anger battling with volume. 

My involuntary step back was unavoidable, my instincts gearing up for a fight at his aggressive turn. Reaching for my axe, I stopped cold. The weapon was gone from its sheath and my chainmail was nonexistent. All that remained were soft leathers and a heavy dagger. There was no time to ponder the situation as my shadowed companion shoved me into the street.

“Do your damned job.”

I moved across the street as quickly as possible expecting  to be as graceful as a war elephant but I was swift, agile and soundless. The shadows of the alley melded around me as though I belonged to them, a long lost friend embracing me.  One look at the wall and its open window above and I was climbing, clinging to nothing yet somehow finding purchase. The small window offered no resistance, allowing my now lithe frame to slip through.

“Who’s there?”

It appeared the bedroom had an occupant.

The linens rustled and two slender legs slipped to the floor followed by a silken night dress. The young woman stepped forward tentatively, her eyes wide as she looked me up and down. 

“Are you here for me, dark prince?”

Dark prince?

I caught sight of a floor mirror against the wall and stepped forward trying to catch a glimpse of myself. What stared back was a lean man with black leather clothing and black hair, high cheekbones and a hawkish nose. The completely familiar stranger that was me.

“Are you here for me?” she asked again, suddenly naked with no sign of her night dress on the floor.

The thought of why I had come here fluttered out of my head. After all, what did I know of the man in the alley? What did I know of this talisman he wanted? But it felt urgent. There was a demand for the mission that swelled in my gut, strong enough to override the swelling in other places. I glanced back out the window, trying my best to disconnect from the ripe body before me, but when I turned back she was gone. The bedroom was gone and in its place, a study lined with bookshelves and an enormous desk covered with odd trinkets and old maps.

Just my luck. Even my madness is a tease.

Beelining for the desk, I quickly rifled through everything, discarding any number of things that fit the description of ‘talisman’. However, the moment my fingers touched it, I knew I had found what I was looking for. With my disappearing lady nowhere to be seen, it was time to leave. Stuffing the talisman inside my jacket, I slipped out the window and headed back to my inn. There was no point in sticking around and if my friend in the alley knew me as well as he alluded, then he would come find me.

“Rough night, Morgan?” Janney called to me above the din of her patrons. How she knew it was me I’ll never know.

I gave her a nod and she motioned me to a booth in the corner. I had barely settled myself down when Janney arrived with two tankards of ale and slipped into the chair opposite me.

“You seem at a loss?” The listener in her was always there for me. Always ready to solve my problems or soothe what she couldn’t fix.

Taking a long draw of my ale, I tried to gather my thoughts.

“I’m somewhat discombobulated.”

She grinned knowingly and waved a hand about. “Something to do with this, I gather.”

“I think I’ve gone mad,” I replied with a nod. “This is not me but it is. Things have happened but I do not remember them, not even a vague recollection as though the event is somehow empty, a void. I have friends that I don’t know and do things I didn’t know I could. What is happening, Janney?”

“Let me guess, usually your life flows along swimmingly. You always have a purpose, always moving towards a goal. Correct?” Her expression was both amused and sad as she turned her attention towards the hearth. “You see those two young boys pulling and poking at each other?”

I did, but what they had to do with me…

“Those boys are mine,” she continued. “Yesterday, they were not but today they are here and I know that they are mine and they know to come to me. I am their mother.”

“That makes no sense, Janney.”

“That is because you are an important person, Morgan. The Great Creator has always had a plan for you, a direction and so your life flows along with perhaps only minor hiccups that you don’t really notice. The rest of us…” she shrugged vaguely. “Our lives aren't so clear. Things change for us. Sometimes for the good, sometimes not so much. We learn to just go with the flow, accept what we have and try to enjoy it.”

“I don’t believe that nonsense, Janney,” I replied, shaking my head vigorously.

She laughed. “If it keeps up you will. I’m curious to see if your confidence can handle the uncertainty and perhaps it will do you a little good to see how the rest of us live.”

I’d never been one to believe in the Great Creator. It was all fairy tale nonsense but Janney’s explanation did hold a little water despite my lack of believing. I drained my ale and tossed a coin on the table. Maybe things will be better tomorrow. Maybe that girl was still there and tomorrow could wait a little. Either way I left Janney to it.

I awoke with a jerk, a sense of nightmare hanging over me. Yesterday was a dream. It had to be. The disjointed timeline, the morphing objects and people. That was how dreams behaved. Today would be fine.

With a stretch, my joints popped and clicked and I let out a contented sigh. I scratched at my groin but my hand froze. The linens tangled with my legs as I tried frantically to launch myself from the bed, scrambling across the floor to pull myself up before the mirror. What looked back at me left me with wildly conflicting emotions.

Janney was right.

“Well,” I said, in an oddly lyrical voice. “I guess I’m now Morgana.”