Diary Entry 2
When he arrived, he found himself standing on a hill in a place still unknown to him. It was a beautiful, sunny day; no wind, only a blue sky and green grass. Looking up the hill, he spotted an unpaved path. He followed the trail with his eyes until he saw a great castle; it screamed of power and strength.
Edward pondered for a moment: "Should I go there or rather not?" As he looked down at himself, his eyes caught his clothing: a black suit coat with a vest underneath, where a weapon rested in a holster, just waiting to be used. In the pockets were magazines filled with bullets. He counted the magazines and noticed that he had seven rounds for each. In the pistol, which was a Colt, there was also a magazine with seven bullets; meaning he had 70 rounds in total. If he spent those, that was it he had no more. As he tucked the magazines away, he noticed a hunting knife attached to his left leg.
He thought it over and came to the conclusion that it was better not to walk toward the castle, because he looked like a stranger and they probably wouldn't welcome him. He headed into the nearest forest and looked around; to him, it looked like another world. The forest was green and dense, with the sun only breaking through occasionally. A small river ran along the left edge. Edward picked up the scent of trees, moss, and lavender, which he figured likely came from the fields.
After walking for hour after hour, he noticed a hut with a roof made of sod and old wood. He approached and looked through the window.
"Simple, but cool. So many books... and a cauldron? Quite big for just cooking food."
Edward knocked on the door, but no one answered. He stood there for a while. After twenty minutes, which felt like hours to him, he went inside. He opened the door slowly and quietly. Only then did he notice it had been unlocked.
"Sorry for breaking in..." he said softly, his heart beating faster.
He was inside now; it was very messy. Books lay open and closed on the floor and the table. Bottles that looked like flasks to him lay overturned on the floor, the table, and in shelves. Everywhere he looked, there was dust and the scent of old, rotting wood. Edward continued to look around, thinking to himself as his heart raced: "Who would want to live here?" He did not know that this was Merlin's hut.
As he turned back toward the door to leave, he heard two female voices. Panic spread through him, and he tried to find a way to hide, but to his misfortune, there was none. The door opened cautiously, and Merlin entered. She was a young lady, or at least she looked like one: snow-white hair and a blue robe. Edward was astonished when he saw her. She saw him too and stopped in surprise.
"Who are you?..." she asked gently. Her voice sounded a bit curious and hurried.
He swallowed hard; he knew he couldn't just talk his way out of this easily. His mouth moved to speak, but he was interrupted before he could start, as Arturia entered Merlin's hut and spoke her name in a clear and polite voice:
"Mentor... is everything alright in here?"
As Merlin turned to answer her, Arturia saw Edward; their eyes met. She looked into his eyes, and he into hers. "Wow!" he thought as he saw the two of them. "That is a sight I won't forget." His eyes scanned her clothes: they were simple, nothing noble, but she wore the crest of the flag from the
castle he had seen earlier.
Merlin looked at Edward and formally scrutinized him. She noticed that he carried equipment that did not belong in this era. However, she stepped closer when she saw no threat emanating from him. He followed her with his eyes as she approached.
"I ask again... who are you?" she said softly.
Edward answered her just as softly and neutrally: "My name is Edward Meyers."
Merlin thought for a while, her gaze never leaving him. After a few seconds, she continued:
"Where do you come from... Mr. Meyers?"
Her eyes remained fixed on his.
Edward smiled slightly: "I come from very far away, from a kingdom that has fallen."
Arturia's expression changed to one of sadness and understanding:
"I am sorry to hear this..."
Edward thanked her with a nod.
Merlin was still uncertain. She knew every surrounding area and the mainland; she knew that no kingdom had fallen.
"Tell me the name of your kingdom... Mr. Meyers."
Merlin saw his magic, which did not belong to this time. She looked at him with a skeptical gaze. Arturia looked at Merlin and could tell she didn't believe him. She walked up to him and looked him in the face. He took a step back; his heart began to ride a roller coaster, but he remained steadfast and didn't crack a smile. Arturia searched his face for signs of a lie but found none.
Merlin pulled her back: "Arturia, you are too close. Remember your manners." She stretched out her arm and pulled her back. Arturia stumbled slightly. Edward thought he had heard the name before, but differently.
He was in a predicament: should he ask for the name of the woman in the blue robe, or leave it be? He decided to ask.
"Excuse me, noble lady, what is your name?..."
She looked aside and decided to answer him.
"My name is Merlin. The Great Wizard of Britain."
She was visibly shocked that he didn't know her. She shook her head, clearly annoyed.
"How can it be that you do not know me?..."
Edward was surprised; he began to laugh.
"Pfft, actually, I know you very well. In my wor... kingdom, you are an old man with a beard and a wizard's hat."
Now Merlin began to laugh too, and the situation de-escalated completely. The two laughed for a while before her face returned to normal.
"Interesting... a man then, and an old one at that. How noble. Tell me: how old do you think I am, since I am obviously not that old?"
He knew this was a trap she had set. He thought: "If I guess too young now, she won't believe me, but too old might make her angry." Yet the answer was simple.
"Mhm... I would say, 36 years old?"
Merlin paused. The smile that had just been on her lips because of the "old man" story transformed into an expression of genuine interest. She tilted her head and took another step closer, so close she could almost feel his breath.
"36..."
she repeated quietly, almost as if she were tasting the number.
"That is a highly precise answer, Mr. Meyers. Not the answer of a flatterer, but that of a man accustomed to measuring things exactly. Almost... scientifically."
She began to walk slowly around him, her blue robe rustling softly across the dusty floor.
"Most men would stammer 'eternally young' or 'early 20s' to avoid being turned into a frog. But 36? That speaks of a maturity you attribute to me, while simultaneously acknowledging that I have preserved my youth."
She stopped behind his back and whispered almost into his ear:
"It is close to the truth of my physical form, yet far from the truth of my soul. Tell me, Edward... what in your kingdom taught you to look so closely? You are certainly no simple subject of a fallen king."
Edward began to smile slightly. He knew she was catching on quickly, but she didn't know everything about him yet.
"It was a kingdom with a very kindhearted king who let us commoners have a say. Like every kingdom, however, it was destined to fall."