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“You came here in that magical box of yours, remember?” He frowned, “I’d think after all the time you spent explaining it to us you would at least remember you had it…”
“Oh…” I felt my face grow a little red, but I tried to keep my expression the same, “Yeah. Just… seeing if you remembered right.”
So that’s it then? I’m a time traveler? I look back into the room where the dignified lords and ladies seem on the verge of losing their tempers and deciding to pelt me down with whatever slop that is on the table. And I’m clearly here to save them… but what from? What problems do they have?
I peek back out the window, “Okay good sir. I’m gonna asketh you another test question. What exactly do you guys need to be saved from? Just… to clarify.”He smiles crookedly and comes to stand just below me. “You don’t do this whole ‘Old English’ thing much, do you? That’s okay. I don’t do it too well either, and I’ve been here for… oh, about a year already.’ He pauses, and a tiny furrow creases his forehead. “Actually… I’ve been waiting for you. You did bring the box, didn’t you?”
I open my mouth, stare at him, then shut it, a wave of heat engulfing my face. “Well… yeah. Sure. Sure! I just…” I shrug, hoping he doesn’t notice my discomfort. “Just… sort of… forgot.”
He smiles a tiny bit mischievously. “You don’t do the whole time traveling thing much either, do you?”
“Huh?”
“It took me a while to learn I had to hang onto my memories going out,” he explains. “Misplaced memories coming in can be a big problem.”
Oh brilliant. Now they told me. “Er… so do you know why exactly this package”—
“Box.”
“Sorry?”
“It’s a box— a magical box, apparently, with the Dragon’s Key inside it. Or a lead of some sort that will help us find the Dragon’s Key.” He smiles up at me again, evidently enjoying my confusion. He needn’t be so drattedly happy about it. It wasn’t funny. I’d no experience at all with quests or dragons or keys or… I cut the thought off in the middle, a sudden shock surging through me and sending my heart all the way to my toes. “Hey mister!” I gasp. “You said something about a dragon?!“He shrugs and answers, “The dragon from the north, yes.”
Seeing the look of shock on my face, he crosses his arms.
“Must have lost more of your memories than I thought,” he mutters.
“D-dragons don’t…exist!” I manage to exclaim.
“No, not in present times. But, uh… we’re not really in present times, now, are we?”
I raise my hands in desperation.
“This is crazy!” I shout. “I don’t even know… anything!”
He nods in understanding. “I guess I should introduce myself then…”“This is really weird, introducing myself to you. Okay,” he sucks in a deep breath. “I’m Gavin Frensky.”
Gavin Frensky. The name sounds familiar…like someone I dreamed about but whom I didn’t know personally. I stare at Gavin, unable to tear my gaze away. “How old are you, Gavin?”
“I’m 17.”
Seventeen. For some reason, seventeen doesn’t seem right. The dream-Gavin I barely remember is…sixteen. How long had I been out?
“Gavin, were we…friends before something…happened to me?”
Gavin stares into space, looking pained. Finally, he says, “Yes. We were. We were…good friends.”
…“Oh,” I said. I hadn’t meant to hurt him. “Well, we can be good friends now, right?”
He nods and looks at me.
“Um, anything else I should know?” My head was hurting and I rub my temples.
“Oh boy,” said Gavin. “You really have forgotten everything. Perhaps I had better come in and explain it to you so you understand what is going on.”
“Sure,” I reply. “That’s a great idea. But I’m not sure where the door is.”
Gavin rolls his eyes and walks straight through the wall.
My mouth drops open and I close it with an audible ‘clop’.
Gavin sits down and motions me to do the same. He crosses one leg and laces his fingers together.
“Hmmm, where should I start?”
“At the beginning, please.” I ask.
“Very well, but would you like the beginning of this life or the beginning of the last life.”
“Start where you think I need to hear.”
“The end of the last life,” he replies promptly. “You are, er…were, an inventor. And you devised a time machine.”“It was brilliantly constructed,” Gavin continues,”I remember you asking me if I wanted to give it a try. I said I would. And I did.” His voice trails off, and then we adds,”worst decision I ever made.”
I shift my weight from one foot to the other. “What happened then?” I ask.
Gavin stares at me. “All I remember is swirling colors; when I woke up, I was in a bedroom. I later found that group of people in the other room.”
I furrow my eyebrows. “So, where do I come in to the story?”
“You came after me.”
. . .A dreamer who believes in the impossible...and dragons. (INFJ-T)
I draw in a deep breath. “Oh.”
He stares at his shoes. “I just don’t know why it would’ve taken you a whole year…”
Oh boy. “I don’t know why either.”
He gives an annoyed laugh and stands up suddenly. “Well that’s apparent! I don’t know why I got my hopes up when I realized you were here. There’s obviously no way you can help now. Not like this.” He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Not with all of your memories clouded.”
I look down, utterly defeated. I’m useless. What can I possibly do? Nothing, that’s what. I can’t even remember my own name for Pete’s sake! My name…my name! I don’t why I forgot about it.
I look up to see Gavin over by the window, gazing down at the scenery and lost in thought.
“Gavin.”
“Yes?”
“Umm…” How can I ask this without sounding completely insane?
“…w-what’s my name?” One ticket to Insanity Land, please.((Sorry guys! I can’t believe I left out a word! Ighhh))
I draw in a deep breath. “Oh.”
He stares at his shoes. “I just don’t know why it would’ve taken you a whole year…”
Oh boy. “I don’t know why either.”
He gives an annoyed laugh and stands up suddenly. “Well that’s apparent! I don’t know why I got my hopes up when I realized you were here. There’s obviously no way you can help now. Not like this.” He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Not with all of your memories clouded.”
I look down, utterly defeated. I’m useless. What can I possibly do? Nothing, that’s what. I can’t even remember my own name for Pete’s sake! My name…my name! I don’t know why I forgot about it.
I look up to see Gavin over by the window, gazing down at the scenery and lost in thought.
“Gavin.” How can I ask this without sounding completely insane?
“Yes?”
“Umm…w-what’s my name?” One ticket to Insanity Land, please.Gavin stares at me sadly. “You mean you don’t remember my nicknames for you? I always called you Weirdo. Or Nerd.”
I try again. “No, I mean my real name. Like the one my parents gave me.” Which brought me to another question. Where were my parents? If I even had any…
“Wren.”
“What?” I ask.
“Wren. Your name is Wren.”
. . .A dreamer who believes in the impossible...and dragons. (INFJ-T)
“Wren?” I was stunned. “Wren, like the bird?”
“Yes.”
“Oh.” I thought I might have had a better name then that. Still I can vaguely remember liking it.
“Dad use to called me his Jenny Wren,” I cry, triumphantly.
Gavin nods and smiles.
“I’m starting to remember,” I crow.
“Good,” said Gavin.
“Now what?” I ask.
Gavin looks at me.
“What? Am I suppose to know?”
He nods slowly.“Well, geez man. I just remembered one little detail. It’s not like I’ve got everything now.” I’m a little annoyed with how cryptic he’s being.
He tilts his head and keeps his eyes fixed on me.
I lean back against the wall and we sit in awkward silence for a bit as I peruse the stunningly empty archives of my mind. Nope. Nothing.
I turn to look at him, remembering something he said earlier. “Hey, we kinda breezed over something important earlier in our conversation. There’s… um… a dragon?”
He nods with less emotion than a response to whether we were having eggs for dinner.
“And I’m supposed to defeat it?”
“More or less. It’s a little complicated.”Crossing my arms, I narrowed my eyes at Gavin. Trying to get information out of this guy was like trying to drag a pig out of his mud wallow. Not easy.
And he said we had been good friends. I wondered if he had been like this before in our friendship and how I had reacted to his cryptic”ness”?
Since he still hadn’t responded with any further comments, I figured it must be up to me to continue my drill of questions until I reached a satisfactory answer.
“Is it complicated like one of those dragon kidnaps princess and the knight in shining armor must save her, kind of fairy tales? Or like one of those you must figure out the answer to scads of whopper riddles to find the dragons hideout kind of complicated?”
Gavin merely stared at me, his left brow twitching. I stared back, hoping my intense gaze would demand an answer. He shook his head and leaned forward. “So at least you remember the fairy tales?” I rolled my eyes. I might as well give up on getting straight answers out of this one.
“What do you mean?”
He rubbed his chin. “Your dad used to read us fairy tales after school and that’s when you and I first declared that one day we would build a time machine and visit the places that your father read about.”
“Fairy tales don’t exits. They’re made up stories. Even I without a memory, know that much.”
Why was he staring at me like that?
I pushed off the wall, shaking away the shiver that wiggled down my spine. “Okay, this is getting me nowhere. What of the dragon key you mention afore?”
A smile broke across his face. “Look at you taking on Old English like a duck taking his first swim!”https://rolenahatfield.com/
What was this guy’s problem? All I wanted was answers to my questions. I’d only just lost all my memories, and he wasn’t even a little sympathetic.
“You know, I’m getting sick of your evasiveness. Thou art–” I cover my mouth. Where was the Old English coming from?
Gavin smirks at me. “Fairytales aren’t real, eh? Just watch and see.”
He points at a window that we’re sitting by, which I hadn’t noticed before. Which hadn’t been there before…
“Wait,” I pause, trying to figure things out in my mind. “Did that window just…?”
Gavin nods slowly, obviously enjoying my confusion.
I stare at the window, open-mouthed. Gavin laughs at the look on my face. I can’t imagine ever wanting to be friends with this guy.
“Great,” I roll my eyes. “A window appeared. So what? That still doesn’t prove that fairytales are real.” I cross my arms and give Gavin an “I-told-you-so” look.
“Oh yeah?” Gavin smirks again, and it takes all my self-control to keep from smacking the look off his face. “Why don’t you look out the window?”
…I groan and thrust nervous fingers up through my hair, clasping my head and shaking it violently. “Not. Funny!” I snap.
He holds up his hands in surprised apology. “I found it rather endearing, actually— you used to do that all the time when we were kids.”
Tears of frustration sting my eyes, and I turn away to hide them. No sense in letting him think me a crybaby as well as a half-witted mad-headed scatter-brained memory-less time-machine-inventor. “Look, Gav,” I snap, trying to hide the tremble in my voice. “I don’t care about when we were kids. I don’t care about any of that right now. I just…” my voice catches in a sob, and the tears spill down my cheeks. “I just want to wake up out of this blasted dream and go home!”
“I’m sorry, Wren,” he says gravely. “I really am. I wish I could just…” He breaks off in a sigh, and there is silence for a moment. “There’s only one way to get home, Little Wren,” he says finally. “And even then only one of us will make it.”
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