Did she really
fall off the stupid horse? It felt like she had fallen off a rooftop. Slowly, she got up off the ground. It wasn’t the ground she was riding across a
while ago. Something was different; the whole area was different. Thick trees,
and lush grass surrounded her and it was dead quiet.
“No. It
couldn’t be…” She whispered to herself, as she slowly got up and brushed the
grass and pine needles off her clothing.
She then remembered. She had left
the door open… and it was a full moon.
She spotted the warhorse a few yards over, happily grazing. She whistled
to him and he came trotting up to her.
“Well boy,
where ever we are; we best go find someone who can find your master.” She said
as she climbed up on him. She definitely wasn’t anywhere near home. Where, she
did not know exactly yet. To her fascination, some how the stupid blue door
still worked even with her just in her backyard. It bewildered her.
She found a
path and diligently kept to it, yet the more they rode down it, the longer it
seemed to go. Animals seemed to hop or leap out of nowhere as the trotted
along. Her steed wasn’t even bothered. They came to a crossing in the road.
There was a sign, she couldn’t read it. It was in a language very not familiar
to her, she decided to go to the right, as the path looked more traveled that
direction. Perhaps there was a town or something up above. She only hoped.
They rounded a
bend in the road and she came upon a familiar sight. A church. The church looked like the one in
the village that she lived in or just moved to. But something about the little
church was vaguely different. It was actually busy and it seemed a bit more
new, or in much better keep. She rode the horse up to what looked like a
hitching post and jumped off. She felt bad tying him by the reins, but that was
all she had. She had always been told that was a no no in the back home in
California… but she had nothing else to secure the horse with. She hope he minded his manners. There were a
few people tending the church garden, they all seemed to stop and do what they
were doing once they saw her making her way towards the church. As she walked
she studied their clothes and quiet quickly realized, this was not home, or
time, or even close. Most definitely the
Middle Ages, actually quite early Middle Ages by looking at the gardeners
clothes. There was nothing elaborate about their modest outfits and they
actually seemed to look at her in fear. A thought raced across her mind, she
soon dismissed it and kept walking to the big large wooden doors.
She pushed
open the doors, they were quiet heavy.
To her surprise there was a group of nun’s praying at the front of the
church. She stopped in her footsteps in astonishment. One of the nuns stood up.
Her clothing was a bit more regal than the rest. She spun around and dropped
her rosary.
“His Holiness,
what have you brought to our church?” She looked Clarise up and down and
gasped.
“A witch…” She
gasped as she held her hand over her mouth in shock.
Clarise didn’t
know what to say or do. She stood frozen in the isle. Just what she needed… to
be called a witch and all she did was walk in to a church. But in modern
clothing. This was going to be interesting.
The head
mistress or prioress swiftly grabbed Clarise by the arm and started to haul her
out of the small church. Her grip was tight.
“Please, I am
looking for someone…I am not a witch.” she said in slight panic, pleading with
her accuser.
“Witch or no
witch dear, you are frightening my sisters and we must see to it. We have never
seen the likes of you and it is quite out of the ordinary.” She said
curtly. Clarise wasn’t exactly thrilled.
“Where are you
taking me? I am looking for someone; he left his horse at my cottage. Sir
Mortimer... Ugh, let go of me!” Clarise stood her ground and pulled away from the
prioress as hard as she could and fell backwards loosing her balance and
falling to the hard stone floor. The
prioress stood still for a moment gazing down at her.
“Sir Mortimer?
How do you know him? He is back from
crusade?” She asked as Clarise slowly got up and faced her.
“Crusade? What
crusade? Please don’t tell me… what year is it?” She asked out of curiosity.
“The year of
our Lord 1191. The Pope has called crusade. Many have gone, many have not come
back. This will be good news for his father. He has quite missed him. His dear
wife died a few years back; he has been very lonely since. Please follow me.”
The prioress’s
voice changed and was now more civil and a bit more welcoming. Clarise thought
maybe she was in the clear and wasn’t going to be lynched, as she followed the
prioress to the back of the church and down a small path, hidden from view from
people passing by, to a small garden or courtyard.
“Alright. I
apologize for calling you a ‘witch.’ I had to get you out and away from the
others as fast as I could. I know where you are from. There have been others
like you, as well over time. For at
least as long as I can remember. There is magic in those woods you were
in. I am surprised Sir Mortimer, or as
we all call him, Rowan found it. Otherwise, you would not be here. His parents
always tried to keep him away from and out of those woods. He would go there as a boy, I have always
kept an eye out for him, as best as I could.
I know that is how he found you.
I know where you are from, as I came from your time as well.” She said
softly as she sat down on a bench near by.
Clarise didn’t
know what to say. She was in awe.
“Your from my
home, my time? How?” Clarise was taken by surprise.
“Your house
has a portal. It has been around for as long as those stones have been laid on
the foundation of your house. It’s old
Druid magic, dear. I suggest you keep
what I have told you to yourself. I have some peasant clothes that you can have,
so you blend in or look more at home. Do not go to the village or the manor
house like you are. Some will not take kindly to it. I also do not know how his
lordship will act as well.”
Clarise nodded
her head and took the advice as a warning.
“I need to
take the horse back to Sir Mortimer. I am sure he misses him…” Clarise said as
she turned towards the path wanting to go back and make sure her steed was
still tied to the post.
“I will help
you take him back. Yet I am going to be honest with you; we might not be able
to get you back home. Those that I have known, have ended up staying, as they
can’t find the portal back or have nothing to take them back.” The prioress
said as she placed her hand on Clarise’s shoulder.
Clarise put
her hand in her pocket of her jeans. The key was there.
“But I have
this? It’s the key to my door…” She said as she handed it to the prioress.
“Where did you
get this? We all have heard tales that there was a key of sorts to the portal.
But never have seen one until now.” The prioress studied the key that Clarise
had with great interest.
“This is a
good thing. Keep it safe. This may eventually help you. How I do not know. But
obviously you are closer to getting back to your home than the others.” Clarise
wondered who “the others” were and how many had come to pass into this realm.
“The agent who
sold me the house had it. It opens the door and locks it nothing else, but I
think it is magic or something. It is not ordinary. Both times the portal
worked was when it was a full moon and I used this key on the door. Even when
Rowan left. I closed the door out of habit that night and he was gone the next
morning. But the horse, stayed in my barn.”
“Poor steed
was probably too far away for the magic to work and he got left behind.” The
prioress followed.
“What did you
do to go back to my time? Back home? I am a veterinarian for animals mainly
horses. I am not sure what I am going to do here...” Clarise started, as panic
and uncertainty started to seep in to her mind.
“Ah a doctor
of sorts. I was a teacher. I used to help many in the village with schoolwork
after school, as well as help run the school in the village. Do you know if the school is still there? It
would have been next to this church. It well looked many years older.” She
asked, her eyes looking sad as she remembered her past life before, this one.
“I believe so…
yes…” Clarise struggled to remember the town back in her time. She hadn’t lived
there too long, maybe a few months before she bought the house.
“There are
times, I miss where we are from, but then sometimes not. Things are simpler
here you will see. Yet other times and most often, very harsh. Life is so much
more fragile.” She continued.
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