Not Mael

  She was obviously mistaking me for this Mael guy. "Or," the idea struck me, "I am Mael in this dream." I checked my

  hands, and sure enough, these were not my hands. My palms were rough, and I was quite dirty to my liking, but more

  importantly, I was young. At least from what I could see, these were not the hands of a fifty-year-old.

  I looked up at the woman, uncertain how to address the issue.

  "Eeehm, I'm not Mael, ma'am," I stated bluntly. She stared at me blankly as if I'd just appeared from thin air. Then

  I saw the switch flip inside her. Her face hardened, her eyes narrowed as she focused, and an intent worth a general

  swelled around her.

  "You think you're being funny?" She demanded. "Our friends... well, comrades, are dead, our enemies are dead, there's

  something out there capable of killing a bunch of armed men with a thought, and you're being funny?"

  "Eeeh...," I tried.

  "Stop messing around, we have to find out what's happening, before IT comes back for us!" she ended almost in a growl.

  I stood to attention, saluting, "Yes, ma'am!"

  "Mael!" she yelled at me in frustration.

  "I'm not Mael, ma'am!" I barked, soldier-like, staring straight ahead.

  She was furious. "In the name of the Mother, I swear, Mael..."

  "Ma'am?" I risked an interruption, raising my hand.

  "Yes?!" she barked.

  "May I untie you, ma'am?"

  She looked down at her wrists as if remembering just now, and deflated a bit. "Yes, please."

  I patted my belt, expecting a knife or a dagger, but found nothing. "What a guy, this Mael. Not even a knife on him."

  I shook my head, casting around for something sharp. A blackened handle protruded from one of the charcoal heaps,

  representing the remains of one of the woman's captors. I gingerly pulled on it and pulled out a serviceable-looking

  knife in a disintegrating leather sheath.

  "Thanks, buddy," I said distractedly and approached her carefully. I didn't want to scare her, rushing her with a knife

  while she was incapacitated. She held her arms so I could cut her bonds safely. It took a surprisingly long while to cut

  through the thick and hard rope without slipping and accidentally hurting...

  "Excuse my bluntness, but what is your name?" I was tired of thinking of her as her.

  You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

  She gave me a sideways calculating glance. "Are you still pretending not to be Mael?"

  "It's complicated," I said, "I'm not Mael."

  She massaged some life back into her wrists after we finally managed to remove the rope, then sprang to her feet. "And

  who are you supposed to be, if I may ask?" she said, obviously unconvinced.

  I wasn't used to introducing myself to my dreams. "My name is Jarovít," I replied truthfully.

  "Yeah, sure," she huffed, clearly disappointed, and started scanning our surroundings, still not telling me her name.

  "They all seemed to have caught fire and crumbled to ashes in an instant," she mused while carefully avoiding the

  little piles of former soldiers. "I wonder what could have happened to them," her eyes ran over the visible edges of the

  courtyard.

  "You there, not Mael, did you see anyone or anything?" She turned to me in a flurry of cloth, her robe following her

  movement. I considered telling her that it had been me again, but the mischievous part of me stopped me. I shook my

  head.

  She frowned at me, did a last three-sixty, took a deep breath, and sagged, squatting down, looking into a wall, not

  seeing. I made myself comfortable against some random stone structure, as I really didn't know many names of

  medieval military architecture. Or any architecture of any time, to be completely honest. Not even in Czech. I watched

  my companion for a while, considering her looks. She was barely twenty, but that could be entirely normal here. She

  wasn't beautiful, but definitely interesting. The kind of woman who becomes truly beautiful with age. Straw-colored

  hair tied in a ponytail, dressed in a simple green linen robe that was probably standard attire here, but made her

  outright exotic looking in my eyes.

  As she was lost in thought, she chewed her lip and furrowed her forehead, looking adorable. Exactly my type, to be

  honest. But that's to be expected in one's dreams, right? Except for nightmares, of course. She didn't look like a

  nightmare.

  "My dream has suddenly taken an unexpected twist," I mused. "It was all fight and action and magic before, and now

  I'm just waiting. At least the view is nice," and I wriggled my butt to a more comfy position. She suddenly focused

  and turned to me, catching me staring. I smiled warmly, trying to look encouraging.

  "I'm tired," she said. "It's been a long day, and tomorrow will be even longer. Let's get some rest." And she turned

  and swept away before I could react, entering a door and closing it behind her.

  "That was strange," I thought. "Isn't she worried, other enemies might come? She's probably not afraid of me... or that

  Mael guy, but if these got here..." I trailed off as I heard a massive metal lock turning, and after a while, some heavy

  object scraping on the floor, a dull thud against the door, and then silence. "Aah, she's not that careless. Well, not

  what I expected, but I might snoop around a bit before I wake up. It must be almost morning anyway. And if I'm lucky,

  this dream will repeat, and I may try different tactics to make her talk to me some more. Maybe even pretend being

  the Mael, if the need be." I stood up, looked around, and started my reconnaissance.

  I was rather surprised by how small the place was. Two half-derelict towers, a small gate, one door from the

  courtyard leading to some kind of primitive kitchen, "hmm, is black kitchen an English term, or is it just in Czech?"

  The other door leading to a bigger room, mostly empty save for a few simple wooden beds and one small table in the

  corner. "Probably a combination barracks, messroom, and who knows what else."

  Then I climbed the stairs back to the battlements. The wall and crenellations were the sturdiest part of the building.

  The lights had mostly died down by that time, and I didn't feel like exploring the towers in the darkness, so I turned my

  eyes towards the sky. It was stupendous. No glowing cities on the horizon, no light pollution at all, the ocean of

  stars was almost frighteningly bright. And I wasn't able to make out any single constellation. Not even Cassiopeia.

  I sat on the floor, "or is it a ground, when it's outside?" And I slowly faded away.