It was dark when Markus woke up again. He felt disoriented at first, not remembering where he was, and when he did, how he’d gotten there. After a few minutes it all started to come back to him and he couldn’t help wondering if it was a dream. Having a mysterious man come out of his mirror didn’t exactly seem like something that would really happen. But the back of his head did still hurt a little from the fall and he distinctly remembered the conversation he’d had with the intruder before he fell asleep. He usually didn’t remember what was said in his dreams so at least there was something different about this one, if it had indeed been a dream. And he had been sober, although somewhat hung over. He sat up and pushed the blanket to the side. Yes, he could definitely still feel the pain in his head. At least that had been real, he thought.

He gave the mirror a thorough inspection, but found nothing out of the ordinary. It was as solid as ever and the only thing he could see that wasn’t normally there was his own tired face. He checked behind it just to make sure there wasn’t a hidden door there, but there wasn’t. He hadn’t expected there to be one either, but he wanted to be on the safe side. He traced the frame and poked and prodded the glass to the point where he was afraid he might break it, but there really wasn’t anything strange about the mirror. Whatever illusion or magic had enabled the intruder, Uriel, to come through it wasn’t there anymore. The name echoed slightly familiar in his mind, but he couldn’t place it. He was sure he’d heard it before, but then again, he used to be sure of a lot of things.

Without thinking, he made his way to the liquor cabinet, mysteries were best accompanied by a drink after all, only to find it was empty. He blinked. Still empty. He slammed it shut with a bang and went to the kitchen. There was plenty of food in there, but nothing to drink apart from a bottle of milk and some fruit juice. The most potent liquid he could find was a small glass bottle of vinegar, but he wasn’t that desperate. And it was several days until his weekly delivery of supplies arrived from the local village. He sighed and cursed as he stomped up the stairs like an angry teenager to find something decent to wear. He was leaving the house for the first time in weeks and he was at least going to try not to look like a drifter. Even though the little village a few miles down the road was very modest and nobody there had ever really cared about his fame, and maybe just therefore, he didn’t want them thinking him a complete wreck, even though he was just that by most people’s standards. So when he went there he made sure he looked presentable, taking care not to offend anyone.

His first stop was the little shop in the middle of town. He left it carrying a brown bag containing two bottles of whiskey and some apples. He didn’t really want the apples, but he’d added them anyway, feeling that they made the whiskey more acceptable, even though he knew fine well that they just made it look even worse. The little man in the shop had praised both the drink and the fruit though, proudly announcing they were both made from local produce, and that the apples did in fact come straight from his own back yard. Markus had smiled and nodded his way through the conversation and promised to try the apples as soon as he got home.

Except he wasn’t going home just yet. It was a hot, clear day and he longed for a cold drink. And where better to get one, served straight from the tap, than in the local bar. Like everything else in the village it was small and neat and there were a few rooms to rent on the first floor, mostly used by people passing through on their way to somewhere else. Markus had stayed for a few nights in one of those rooms a few years ago, before he’d made all the arrangements to move into his own house to the north of the village, and the matron still seemed to think of him as the boy he’d been back then. Because even though he’d accomplished a lot for his age by anyone’s standards, he’d still been a boy. Whenever he came there for a drink or a meal she doted on him like he was her own grandson, filling his plate to the brim and once or twice making sure he slept in a bed when he’d gotten himself too drunk to make his way home. Today however, she was nowhere to be seen. And when Markus came to think about it, neither was he lanky husband who usually operated the bar. Instead a young girl of maybe 16 was occupying the space behind the bar. The height and robustness of the structure made her look tiny. Apart from her, the only other staff he could see was a waiter that he only remembered seeing before in the evenings when the place was busier.

He went straight to the back of the room and sat down at a small table, placing the bag from the shop between his feet as he did so. The only other people in the place had already been served, so the waiter came to take his order as soon as he’d made himself comfortable.

“What will it be today, sir?” the waiter asked while producing a little notebook and a pen from his back pocket.

“Just a cold drink please, a beer.”

“And would you like anything to eat, sir?” Markus’ stomach rumbled and the waiter must have heard this. “We just got a delivery of sand ray this morning. A rare delicacy, and our chef cooks it so well. Perhaps you would like to try it?” He smiled. Markus wished his stomach would be quiet, but then again, he was hungry.

“Ok, fine. An ale and the sand ray please.” The waiter nodded, noted down the order on his little, yellowed notepad and turned around to leave. Marcus called after him:

“Can I have the drink right away please.” The waiter gestured at the girl behind the bar and she started filling a glass that she then brought over to Markus. She looked young and innocent to Markus even though she couldn’t have been more than seven or eight years younger than himself. Her eyes were blue and not tainted by the bitterness he’d become so familliar with in his own green ones. They were like deep pools of sky and he wished he could go back to a time when he’d seen only innocence looking back at him through the mirror. He must have stared at her, probably for too long, because she gave him a frightened look and hurried away as soon as she’d served him his drink. It was nice and cold and just the right shade of gold. It felt like liquid crystal running down his throat compared to what his hangover combined with the heat had tasted like earlier. He sighed loudly and wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt.

Someone walked in the door. It was a young man, about the same age as the girl behind the bar, and judging by the shining smile on her face when she spotted him, she had been waiting for his arrival. Markus watched as they approached each other with hurried joy and met in an embrace that only really suited teenagers in love. Had he been like that once, he wondered and felt a pang in his chest as memories he’d avoided for years began to surface. He had been like that once and he detested it. He detested the fact that it could never be again, and he whimpered in his sleep when he dreamed about those moments long lost, and he regretted the fact that he hadn’t cherished them enough then to make them last forever. It all came back. Because the young man with his cape and gun and sword was so much like he himself had once been and the young girl was so much like someone he’d once known, waiting just as patiently for her hero to come back as these painful memories had been waiting to overcome him once again, just as patiently as Sarah had been waiting for him that time… He downed the rest of the beer in one go, hoping the cold liquid would cleanse him, release him from the pain. However, it was not enough. The whiskey bottles standing between his feet were so very tempting, but he would get thrown out if he opened them here. And he was too hungry to leave before eating that sand ray he’d been promised. It crossed his mind how strange it was that a small, remote tavern such as this one had gotten hold of sand ray at a price they could afford, and it also crossed his mind that they may be trying to trick him, thinking that a drunkard such as him wouldn’t know the difference anyway. And he didn’t know if he would. He’d only tasted the rare meat on a few occasions and that was quite some time ago now.

The young couple were still exchanging affectionate words, hugs and kisses when someone called from the kitchen that the sand ray was ready. Reluctantly the girl let go of the boy and went to get the plate. Markus caught his gaze They were just as innocent as the girl’s albeit a little less shy. He as well looked away from Markus’ stare, pretending to notice something interesting on the bar disk. Markus was quite sure there was nothing there. The sadness overcame him again. That boy was so much like he had been, young and full of adventure. It had only been a coincidence, Markus was sure of this, that he’d been lead down the path he’d wandered when he was the same age and what was to say this boy wouldn’t end up in a similar mess. He looked the same and from all Markus could tell, he was the same. He was him, then. A wave of endless frustration engulfed him because he knew better than anyone that the boy would call him a fool for begging him to settle down and marry the girl as soon as he could – he would have. He probably would have taken his sword to anyone to prove he could… could what? To prove that he was just as foolhardy as he now knew he’d been? He wondered what his life would have looked like if he’d just settled down in Hethan and stayed with Sarah. Would he have been happy then? Or at least happier than he was now. But he remembered feeling so restless then, like he had to move, find something, do something, stay awake. He felt it still sometimes, at times when he wasn’t drunk or sick, he felt it in his sleep, he felt it in the voice that spoke to him at night. The voice he was quite sure he’d met the day before.

The barmaid came back into the room carrying a large plate of food towards his table. It smelled wonderful and when it was put down in front of him he found it looked wonderful as well.

“Thank you,” he said. The girl smiled and started to walk away. “Excuse me miss,” Marcus called after her. She stopped and came back.

“Yes?” She looked entirely unimpressed. Her boy was aiting impatiently by the bar.

“Do you by any chance know how all this sand ray-meat ended up here in the Marigold?” He cocked his head in the direction of his plate. “It’s quite unusual to see this far north, and certainly in a small place like this.” He tried not to sound to suspicious even though he feared he’d already failed miserably to make any sort of positive impression on the girl.

“It came with the merchant that usually brings our meats and some of the vegetables and spices we can’t get from around here. He comes about once a month, I think.” She fidgeted with her apron. “I only ever work here on weekends or when my auntie and uncle are away, so I’m not too sure. You’d be better off asking Ivan, he handles everything like that when they’re away.” Markus told her that he would and thanked her for her help. She hurried off and he cut a slice of the lean, grilled meat on his plate. As far as he could tell it wasn’t seasoned at all, but it didn’t need it. It was perfect and it was just like he remembered it – juicy and full and incredibly tasty. Before long his plate was empty and he was just about to ask the girl for another drink when the man called Ivan appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, beside his table.

“Everything to your satisfaction, sir?” Markus looked down at his clean plate and then at his empty glass and decided that everything was indeed very satisfactory. Although it was still very warm, so another beer couldn’t hurt. He asked from one and received shortly thereafter. When Ivan came back with the glass once again full, he invited him to sit down and proceeded to ask about the sand ray meat. Ivan seemed to be almost as curious as Markus was, eagerly telling him about how the merchant had arrived with almost a whole cartload of sand ray meat only a couple of days ago. He had been very secretive about where he’d gotten it and he had been quick to leave as soon as he’d done the business he’d came to do in the little town. It was almost as if he was scared. Ivan had watched him leave and could swear it looked like he was running from something. He claimed the merchant had been working his horses far too hard, not caring if a few pieces of fruit fell off the cart in the process. Markus asked if he had any idea where the merchant would be heading next.

“As far as I know he travels south to north and then back again along the eastern edge of the desert, although I believe he goes to Central City every so often to pick up fabrics and spices from far away places.” Central City was the largest city on the continent, and certainly the oldest. “It’s nothing we can afford here, so I don’t know too much about it. Which is why I was surprised when he offered me sand ray. He usually knows better than to offer us things he knows are too expensive for us. I could hardly believe him when he told me the price he was selling it for. If you ask me, there’s something not quite right about how he got his hands on it, or he wouldn’t be so eager to be rid of it. There’s certainly nothing wrong with it!” Markus nodded. There certainly wasn’t. So what was going on? He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he found it difficult to resist a good mystery even now. After all these years of trying to forget he felt himself wanting to get involved again, start digging, find out what was going on.

However, after three more beers and quite a lengthy conversation about the general ongoings in the little village with Ivan he knew far more about his neighbours than he ever wanted to know and he felt it was time to go home and investigate the contents of the two bottles standing in the bag between his feet. He had to find out if they indeed were as good as the little man in the little shop had claimed them to be.

Tags: Hethan, Ivan, Markus, sand rays, The Marigold, Uriel, Valenja, Verna

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