The first sense that returned to me is my sense of hearing. The chirp of birds and the rustle of the leaves somehow pull me to the reality of asking what on earth just happened to me.
The second had been my sense of smell. I take note of the smell of drying earth. This is one of the things that I learn to take notice when I told Dad that I wanted to be an archaeologist like him, and then reminded me to take notice of the smell of everything as well for further observations and details.
The third, my sense of touch. It urges me to move my hands somehow. Squirming a little, I feel the tickle of the grass beneath me. Like the feeling so familiar to me whenever I play and lay back at the lawn of my grandparents’ home in Reading.
And finally, I crack my eyes open, making me see the view of the vast and clear blue sky right above me. Immediately pushing myself to sit up, with wide eyes, I look around my surroundings; seeing nothing but trees of varying heights and clouded in thickness. As it appears to be, I am in a small clearing.
Where am I? I can’t help to ponder in fear.
Though I remember sitting on that throne replica back in Madame Tussauds in London, urged to post for just one picture by Shannon… I don’t remember going to a place such as this. If I am to describe that strange feeling of being dragged to the darkness and lightness for a second there, then I’ll say that it is all I’ve done to be here?!
I turn to my side, realizing that my backpack is still with me. Knowing everything contained in my bag, I didn’t bother to take a quick look of the things inside. It’s as if all the things there will be of any use… well, the Swiss knife, probably. That despite all the patting down back then in the wax museum, I manage to slip it in.
Anyway, enough with that, I am much more worried about what really happened and where on earth am I.
Taking the bag with me, I stand from my location and do a quick look around. As I’ve noticed earlier on, wherever I may be, there will be no doubt that I am in the middle of the forest. The trees are quite towering and there doesn’t seem some cleared pathway for me to consider heading on to. Not to mention that it is only this clearing that is somehow cleared, while the rest of the path in-between the trees are old and protruding root with ivy leaves crawling on them, murky earth and dry fallen leaves. The sound of birds chirping from a nearby tree make me look up and notice a nest, just as squirrels ascend another tree for acorns.
A rustle on the grasses behind me makes me freeze for a second. Me reaching out immediately for my Swiss knife as some sort of life support for whoever or whatever could be there. In a forest of a place that I am completely unaware about, the rustle could mean any animal or even a group of men who’ve certainly known how come I’ve ended up here.
A snake will freak me out, no doubt. Or even other animals that will scare the hell out of me.
Taking a step back, I stop, realizing that I’ve stepped over something that causes the distinct sound of glass breaking. Looking down, I realize that it had been my own glasses.
Damn it. I didn’t realize it earlier on! But… wait a minute!
I raise my head another time to look around. I blink once and twice before rubbing my eyes with my freehand, blinking for another time. I turn to the right and then to the left, oblivious for a second to the sound of rustling grass. I notice that my eyesight is as good as it is when I am wearing eyeglasses.
I am sure that my poor eyesight had been hereditary and inborn. My father had always worn one since he was a kid, so it is no longer a surprise when I was diagnosed to have such a very unlucky eyesight as well.
But now that I look around, keeping a tight hold of the Swiss knife in one hand toward the direction of the rustling, I can swear that my eyes are as sharp as they are meant to be with a normal twenty-twenty vision.
Another two rustle from the grass as I anticipate danger, a white rabbit jumps out, stopping right in the clearing to look at me with its round and innocent eyes.
I sigh heavily as its ears twitch before turning its attention to me, turning its head to the side as if it is inspecting me if I’ll be of any harm or not. I almost laugh to myself as I switch back the blade and places it on to the outside pouch of my backpack.
“Of course. A rabbit,” I mumble to myself. “What on earth am I thinking? Perhaps I’ve been just so cautious. And why should I not be? Being in some place that I don’t know where… I guess, seeing a rabbit is somehow a good indication that I am still on earth. But on which part of the world am I, indeed? And how come I’ve been here in the first place?” I sigh a second time as I spout nonsense to nobody, and turn to the rabbit with a small smile. “Hey there, little one.”
I crouch back to the grass, limiting the distance between me and the rabbit. I reach out with both hands to take the rabbit close to me, and I am filled with great relief that it didn’t jump away from my grasp. I don’t know what forced me to do so, but somehow, I ease a little, finding that I am no longer scared.
To be honest, I really want to be away from here already. I want to be back to where Shannon is. I want to be back in England, or much better if I’ll be back home in Edinburgh already. Where Mum surely is, ever curious about me bumping into some absolute unluckiness during the trip. I wish that when I close my eyes for another time to lull myself back to sleep, I’ll find myself out of here and think of this as just some part of a very weird dream.
I sigh heavily to myself.
“ROAR!”
The sudden sound behind startles me. One that makes me freeze on the spot and the rabbit that I have been caressing on my arms to immediately jump in fright, heading straight back to the grasses and to the heart of the forest itself. And surely, if I am completely not so scared at this moment and had been as small as that rabbit, I’ll surely run away like that as well.
But again, I am so scared. And I am sure that in just my rush alone, despite the adrenaline that people define to eventually kick in at the time of danger, a few meters away from running will lead me to the worst of the danger due to tripping in between my feet or getting caught at a protruding root that I’ll not realize. It is all a given that I make it that far, because I can also anticipate that on my own scramble to stand and run, being the clumsy me, I will fall face first back to the ground.
The low rumble of a groan makes it evident that the creature behind me is nowhere to being tamed. What a fool I am to think that the forest will not have such animals roaming around freely?
“W-Well…” I start, trying to keep the shiver deep within me and the tremble on my voice is audible. I just hope that I am dreaming with all of this… but no matter how I wield to wake up, I can’t simply do so. I close my eyes, evading the worst for me to see, as I timidly and slowly turn halfway to make my conclusions real through my peripherals alone, and also foolishly reach out a hand of mine toward where it is just behind me. “T-There is a good girl.”
“ROAR!!!” The lion growls loudly, causing me to pull my hand back, almost shrinking as if that will stop it from attacking me.
Is this really the end of me? The thought makes me wish to truly wake up right now, if all of this is a dream. A nightmare. If this isn’t, then I want to get out of here. That even at least before I meet my end, I want to know what really led me to find myself here. Or like finding the answer about what does all of this means…
“Oh,” a man’s voice seems to make me stop rumbling with my thoughts of death and trouble. A reassuring tone, somehow, it seems to ebb a few of my fears to an ease. “It’s you.”
It takes all of my courage to pry my eyes open, though slowly than necessary. I turn my head in the direction of the voice and I almost gasp out loud upon seeing the young man for myself.
Standing close to where the great lion is, dressed on a peculiar medieval garb of his clothes that is an almost worn-out shirt, a jacket as an outer, dark trousers and leather boots, is a young man about the same age as I do with a tall and lanky frame, cropped-short brown hair and strangely beautiful blue eyes. He has a warm and kind expression as he smiles to me and keeps a hand in stroking the lion’s mane to calm the animal down.
“Welcome,” he adds as his smile widens much more with relief and his hands remain behind him, “It’s a good thing that I arrived just on time.”
I raise an eyebrow at him, confused myself. “Arrived… on time?”
“I suddenly felt something weird going on that I make haste to check what it is about,” he says, and his brows furrow in a worried and concentrated frown before continuing, “I take it that with your arrival, it clearly means that everything is meant to proceed on.”
“Uhm, excuse me…” I start, slowly standing as I keep a close watch of the lion that seems to lose its interest in making me as its meal. “But… I don’t clearly understand where this place is, or where I am, or what is going on. You see… I remember clearly that I am with my friend and our classmates back then in Madame Tussauds.”
He stares at me intently. “Madame Tussauds? It’s my first time hearing such a name. What a weird one.”
I bite my lower lip. I take a quick look around again, seeing that the forest is densely thick, and then back to how this man managed to tame a lion, and to the kind of clothes he is wearing. It reminds me of the old times, somehow; have I found myself in the middle of some shooting? Some historical or fantasy drama of some sorts? If that will be the case, I don’t even know how come I’ve been here then.
“To answer your question, per se, I shall say that you’re in the forest that is within the territory of Forest Sauvage. Like you, I am unaware of how come you’ve been here; not to mention your clothing… it is rather strange.”
I look at my clothes, seeing that I am still wearing the clothes that I indeed wore during the trip to the wax museum. Nothing seems to be torn or dirtied, still the plain white shirt, leather jacket, faded and fitted jeans, and worn-out artist sneakers. “Well, I don’t know. Truly, sir. And… Forest Sauvage? I know that I am in London before I woke up being here.”
“London is about a week journey from here by horse,” he tells me, quite surprise with my predicament. But he sure knows that there is a London in just a different name; that one is quite good to be assured about. “Not to mention… you look quite familiar to me,” he trails before pressing his lips together, trying to remember himself. “I will surely need to refresh my memory.”
“Sir, since you know all about London… surely you know that Forest Sauvage does not exist.” I’ve studied the history of Great Britain since I was a child because of my parents’ works, and I’ve known geography more than anyone else among my class. And I am sure that there hadn’t been a city in England that is called “Forest Sauvage”.
He humbly bows his head a little. “But I apologize as well for that matter, since I am so sure myself that we are both in Forest Sauvage.”
“And this Forest Sauvage is?”
“Well, of course, almost at the borderline to Cornwall. Forest Sauvage is one of those in the western side of Logres.”
I am dumbstruck at that moment on. Because… this is one that I can’t accept at all. He clearly knows his maps, and I am lost. I ask, cautiously, almost gaping, but I can swear that my eyes are wide right at this moment, “And London is in Logres, you mean?”
“Sort of, yes.”
“And… the year is?”
The young man clears his throat and softly smiles at me like some angel. “I guess that I should have explained everything from the start, but I’ve been anticipating your arrival here in our time.” He nods at me once and adds, “I am Merlin. And it is the twenty-fifth year of King Uther’s reign. Year 526.”
“Merlin? King Uther’s reign? Year 526?”
“Yes.” He nods. “And I told you, I’ve been—”
I raise a hand, immediately stopping him to continue. I close my eyes tight, pressing my hands into my temples and shake my head.
You’ve got to be kidding me. This can’t be happening. This has to be some sort of a dream… or a nightmare.
“Too bad that this isn’t a dream at all,” the self-proclaimed Merlin tells me with the same soothing tone. “You are really here in this place and time.”
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