We rode for what seemed like hours and, surprisingly, the sword never bothered me. I'm not  sure how much time had passed since there was no true sunlight to judge by. Finally, he slowed her to a trot. 

“She’s a shadowborn.”

“A shadowborn?” I questioned, not sure what he meant at first. 

“Yeah. That's what they call the animals who were bred with demons years ago. You told me how fitting it was for me to ride a nightmare. And so that's what I named her. She can travel through shadows, but only the person she bonds with can travel with her.” 

“That's actually pretty cool.” Though, what he said felt familiar and foreign at the same time. 

“Your ancestors typically kept shadowborn dogs as pets.”

For some reason, that made me think of the painting I had seen. 

“The witch of Blakewood.”

“What?” 

“Before I was brought here, I was visiting an art gallery. It was meant to have unusual and lesser known works. One of the paintings was called The Witch of Blakewood. It was of a woman who was standing in front of a forest in the moonlight. Behind her, in the forest, it looked as though a wolf was watching her. It was a beautiful, eerie painting. It sounds crazy but something about the painting sent me into an anxiety attack. That’s how I was brought here.”

He didn’t respond for several minutes. 

“The Witch of Blakewood is what they used to call your great-grandmother. She was a powerful enchantress who disappeared the day you were born. It was always a big mystery. Some people think you stole her soul. Though, supposedly, she came back to murder you when you began to show signs of magick.”

I couldn't help the laugh that rumbled out. 

“Stole her soul? How is that even possible for a baby, a newborn, to do? And she murdered me? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

“Well, supposedly, magic can skip generations. Though it comes from the mother's side, it doesn't always manifest in the first born daughter. If your great-grandmother's magic had been passed down to your grandmother or mother, I would have died the day they were born. But she didn't. She died when you were born. Superstition dictates you stole her soul, thus her magic.”

“What do you believe?”

“I think you inherited her power, but I don't believe it killed her. I think she’s in hiding. She had many enemies. Most texts about her are divided. Some say she was great and benevolent. Others say she was a great evil on the land, plus, there was proof you were stabbed to death at the age of ten.” He paused, “I feel awkward having to explain this to you.”

“I get that. I'm having someone I don't know, who admittedly doesn't like me, explain things I should know. Childhood memories. My family.  It's strange. I feel like when you tell me things, I know them. But it's fuzzy. Like they didn't exist until you spoke them.'” I paused a moment before continuing. “That was you that I heard, right? How did you get me out of there?”

“I didn't get you out. When we were kids, though we didn't like each other, we spent a lot of time together, so we were close. I suppose you could have called us best friends if we hadn't argued so much. We played tricks on one another a lot. I suppose I bullied you a bit. Though you were as much of a brat.” 

I rolled my eyes and resituated myself in the saddle behind him. 

“We accidentally developed a link.” He stated. “You were practicing a spell that allows you to connect to your familiar. The way I do Nightmare. Instead of connecting to your familiar, you connected to me. 

No one knew what happened. I was practicing archery in the field behind your lessons. They told me I  dropped unconscious. But I could hear you. I heard how upset and worried you were. When I responded to it, the link solidified. You were able to connect to your familiar later, but somehow, our link never broke. We never told anyone about it either.”

His voice quieted and I almost couldn’t hear him over the beat of Nightmare’s hooves. 

“What happened had never been successfully attempted before. There is no record of it in any grimoire or any other text I've found. There are loads of entries about attempting such a thing, even with others of different races through time. I was angry with you at first, however, it proved to be helpful. I think we were more trouble after developing the connection than we ever were before it.” 

He slowed Nightmare’s trot into a gentle walk.

“To answer your question,” he continued, “I didn't get you out. I felt you tug on the mental link between us. It was the first time in a long time I’ve felt it. I thought you were dead. I was able to use Nightmare's powers to get there quickly enough. I used our link to speak to you but you latched onto me. Your power reacted to something familiar and attached, bringing you to me. Since we are linked, your power sometimes sees me as an extension of you. At least, that’s the best we’ve been able to come up with. There isn’t anything particularly magical or noteworthy about the spot you dropped into, so I’m not sure why it was there and not elsewhere.” 

He pulled the reins, stopping the horse from going any further. He slid out of the saddle and started to pull Nightmare into step behind him. 

“How did you come back?” He asked me. I rearranged myself in the saddle again, attempting to make my stiff legs and back comfortable.

“I’m not  sure.” I recapped what I had been through. 

“My guess is that whatever magic you are connected to here recognized you from the other world and drew you back here. No one knows how you disappeared, so I can’t  say for sure what happened. I do know this though, no one needs to know you are back yet. There’s a lot going on and if someone were to find out, you would be an instant target. For now, you are safer not being recognized.”

“If you realized it was me, I’m sure other people would too.”

“It’s a little different. There isn’t anyone connected the way we are. I would know the pull of your power anywhere.”

“What were you doing before you came to find me?”

“I was on my way to a meeting.”

“A meeting?” I asked, kind of shocked.

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“It  seems so mundane, since I was  dragged through some hole in space and dropped on my ass in another world that I am seemingly from and didn’t know.”

“Well, not everything is going to be as exciting as that. But here,” he said, taking off his outer coat. “Put this on.” He Sheathed his sword over his shoulder again. Without the leather jacket, the sword became more prominent. The silver and emerald hilt seemed to glow.

He handed the leather jacket to me, and I slipped it on over my shoulders, pulling the hood up.

“Lay low onto Nightmare’s back. Her shadows will hide you. We will be arriving in a small village and I don’t think it wise for anyone to see you yet.”

His outer coat was large on me and the hood fell over my face. I kind of felt like the grim reaper. Only thing missing was a scythe.  What surprised me though, was how familiar his scent was to me.