The Immortal
It was said that the man was old, older than you might think, so old that he had forgotten the spring all the moons that came. He was here before the birth of dragons, Giants, and children of the forest. He was old, perhaps as old as the world; in other words, he was ancient.
"Do you know who I am?" asked the man hesitantly. A particular fear enveloped him when he spoke to people. He was never one to start a conversation, but he knew the importance of starting one at this point and time. "Know you, no, I don't,.... but I know of you," Marsha said. She held a bowl of bugs in her hands, picking them and munching on them one by one.
"You wish for me to tell you?"
The man wanted to say yes, but his instincts told him not to. "You called me a demon head. May I ask why?" Asked the man.
"Why do you ask questions you already know answers to? You have seen the song, and you know what is to come, and I am sure you have seen my descendant, and I know you know of me. Why the fear, Rickard." Marsh said.
"Ahh yes my name is Rickard." The man thought.
"Rickard, my name is Rickard. I remember it now," Rickard said. " I have known and seen you, Marsh of the deer clan." Rickard placed his hand on his forehead and did the same to Marsh. It was a sign of being friendly and saying I harbor no Hostility.
"You have much to learn, Rickard. My people have welcomed you, but you have not welcomed us. You are vigilant around us in your heart, and we feel it." Marsh said. She had revealed that she could feel his emotions no matter how much he wished to hide them. Yes, he harbored no ill will, but he was vigilant.
"Can you blame me? I have been running in these woods for days and nights, all alone, freezing to my bone. I would climb trees, and the barks would dig into my nails, making me bleed, but never once did you come even though you felt me." Rickard said. Anger was palpable in his voice, and his emotions became more awry with his growing understanding of the world.
Marsh contemplated what he had said. She indeed felt his presence in the forest, but that did not tell her of his exact location. However, so did many others; they, too, felt him, but he was hidden from them by something unknown. Perhaps he was himself. Marsh thought she had only seen it once; in mice, they would hide themselves from magical creatures simply because they desired it.
"When you were in the forest, you wanted nothing more than hiding; why do you think that is? Was it fear or security," Marsh asked. She wanted to confirm her suspicions; the chances of it were nigh, but still to ask and receive an answer.
"Why can't it be both, I was running because I was afraid, and I wanted security away from those damn animals," Rickard responded. " Dire wolves, they are called Dire wolves, and they attacked you because they were afraid," Marsh said.
"You know, in this mysterious world that we live in, there is an energy that the gods bestowed upon its children, and at times, we can influence it unknowingly," Marsh said. "I think you had done just that; you used Magic to hide yourself. Even now, I can see you but can barely feel you. To others who wish to seek you, you do not exist. "
"No, I couldn't," Rickard whispered. "However, you did." marsh argued. "When I look at you, I do not see the age the body has, but the mind and you are young, strangely naïve. You seek something that is no longer there, and now despair is settling in, so do not cling to hope; hope is the mind-killer. Now, forget all that is gone and embrace the new beginning. "
"No, "Rickard roared internally. He would continue to look for a way to get home. He was adamant about such things. It had taken some time to come to him, but he realized where he was. He was in Westores, and Marsh was a child of the forest. As to what time it was, he did not know.
"Have others like me come to this place?" Rickard asked.
"Others like you, there is none like you, Demon head, but to those who share the same flesh as you, then no, they have not come," Marsh said.
She spoke as if she knew the future, and it was then that he began to understand. " You are a green seer," Rickard said.
A smile came to Marsh's face. "That is how you knew of my coming."
"Aye, I did, and so did the other Green seers, and you are the oldest of us; there are many legends of you in the future. But none that have come to fruition," Marsh said. She enjoyed this—to see a living fossil of history. She revered him like a god. He did not know of his true potential, but she would show him.
"Then you know what will come, the dance and the song. Your people, my people, they will go extinct." Rickard said. "Not if you intervene. " Marsh shot back. " I have seen glimpses of the future, not all of it; with you, everything is everchanging, but all for the good.
Many may wish to control you, Ancient One, but not Marsh of the Deer clan. I only wish for you to protect my people, and I want to build a home for myself. "
In his past life, he had read the books and watched TV shows; he did not think this world to have been real, but nonetheless, it was. This world is real, and it exists. Back then, he did not have a purpose, but now he was given one, a goal to strive towards, and he wanted nothing more than to accomplish it.
"What now," Rickard asked.
"What we do now is teach you our magic, our ways, and see what you can do. You have forgotten thousands of years of your life, but in due time, it will come to you; most importantly, I will teach you because you are the only one strong enough to help us.
Let go of the past, and allow yourself to embrace the new; Rickard, become our king, the king of the children." Marsh said.
"Will your people allow me to become your king so easily?" Rickard asked.
"We never had a king. We have clans that fight for the exact cause. We all recognize that we need one leader; you may look like them, but you are not. One of them. You are one of us, blessed by the gift of life."