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A long time ago...
I stand on a hillside dressed in a white gown that covers me from the neck down to my bare toes. Hair pulled back in a long braid, the tip of which reaches my backside. My eyes are focused on the buzzing village below though I am aware of the older man standing to my left.
“Daya, the task ahead will not be easy. As King, he has the tendency to endanger his life more often than not, but it is our will that he lives long enough to free his people from the evil that has taken hold of their innocents.”
“I am young and inexperienced, why would you entrust me with such an important task? Would it not be wiser to entrust someone more capable?” My eyes move away from the scene playing out below, a group of children with swords made of wood, pretending to hunt a bear, and focus on the familiar face of the man I now know as Fergus. Or a younger version of him, at least. Though he is by no means a young man, his short hair retains some of its original black color, instead of the white I have grown accustomed to during the past five years.
I’m aware that this is a dream, therefore what I see is either conjured up by my imagination or one of the many memories I seem to have forgotten. I’m still very intrigued by the fact that Fergus and I knew each other back then. And impressed by the pair of white wings I see attached to his back. Not black like Mason had claimed, but feathery and as colorless as the gown I’m wearing.
“You have proven your worth. You are ready.” He points to the village below. “Now go find the man who goes by the name of Mason McNeill. He shouldn’t be hard to miss since he is the ruler of this town and the land surrounding it.” Producing a red cloak, Fergus offers it to me. “Take this and don it. Blend in and do not call attention to yourself. He knows you’re coming, so once you announce yourself inside the castle, they should take you directly to him.”
Apprehensive, but under direct command to follow through with my orders, I am proud to show my worth as a protector. Should I pass this test, I may be promoted to participate in harder tasks, and may one day sit next to our Creator with honor.
Taking the cloak, I quickly wrap it around my shoulders, using the hood to cover my long hair and face from view.
“I will not put you to shame, Fergus. I will do well.”
Acknowledging my statement with a nod, Fergus turns and takes off, flying out of sight within moments.
Making my way to the castle's gates is no easy feat. I find myself under the scrutiny of the curious bystanders, who gawk and stare unabashedly as I stroll by. No doubt suspicious of my presence, but nevertheless no one cares enough to stop my progress. Once at the entrance to the castle, I announce myself, and two guards guide me through a series of dark halls to a door at the end of the right hand side.
The guard to my left opens the door and ushers me into what seems like a throne room. The dimensions are impressive to say the least. Cathedral ceilings, large windows that let in plenty of sunlight, a portrait of the royal family, I assume, painted on the wall behind the single wooden chair. I avert my gaze to the floor. The expansive room was designed to impress every single person who steps inside, myself included.
I continue onward, keeping my eyes to the cobbled rocks as I go along. There’s but a single being inside the room, aside from me, and nervousness has begun to set in. Will the King agree to have me guard his back? Even if it is only for a short while? Will he think me incompetent because I’m of the opposite sex?
“Remove your hood so that I can memorize your face.” That voice, so commanding yet gentle. So authoritative yet soft. He’s used to getting his way. He’s in charge and wastes no opportunity to show it. I can already read this much about him. He will be no easy charge, of this I am sure.
Being that I’m here under higher orders, I do as he asks, removing my hood so that he can see that I’m a woman. Taking things a step further still, I lift my gaze to meet his. Except, I’m not expecting to look upon the most handsome face I have ever seen. He sits a few feet in front of me, perfectly still and with his back straight, his blue eyes gazing back at me with undisguised interest.
There is no scar marring his face and his hair is once again long, down to his shoulders. This Mason is different from the one I have come to know recently, but the fire in his blue eyes is still the same.
“No one told me I was being sent an angel in disguise.” He means it as a compliment, perhaps one he’s offered many times before to the harem of females he has at his disposal, but my heart begins to flutter just the same. And this, I know now, was the beginning of our end. It was this moment in time which marked our destinies.
“Daya? Daya, wake up.”
I wake up to the present, with a scarred, short haired version of the Mason in my dream, gaping at me. I rub the haze out of my eyes and sit up in his bed. He takes a step back, looking a bit unsure.
No. I was wrong. This Mason is not the same. Not exactly. Time and a hard existence has changed him. Maybe even hardened him, which makes me wonder what we did that was so horrible we were separated, our memories wiped clean. At some point, we loved each other. I know that much, but what rules did we break? Did we put love over duty? Is that why we were punished?
I don’t know that for sure. Neither does he, but I vow to find out even if it’s the last thing I do. And today is just the beginning...