Newgrange wasn't sure he wanted to be back at his Wonder. The last time he had been here, he'd been filled with a sensation of dread. It felt like someone was watching him. Like he was an unwanted presence.

He'd dreaded that sensation for months now.

His Wonder was a place that existed, but it didn't feel like it was his.

He was worried that this time it would be no different.

Reciting the pledge, he had arrived easily enough; the method left him uneasy but only because the concept of magic still just seemed so overwhelming to him.

His Wonder was a beautiful place. Or, at least, what he'd seen of it was.

It was still; nothing moved.

When he arrived it was just outside a large door built into a hill—one he would argue was nearly identical to the one on Earth. Except, this one was bigger. There were a pair of great, carved doors that once probably closed, but now they were in shambles on the ground.

It seemed like it was a nice day; the sun was comfortable and there was a soothing breeze. The grass that coated the ground and the hill swayed lightly. It was peaceful here.

Not like inside.

The last time he'd been here, he'd made it only ten minutes before he had to leave. The presence was overbearing and he felt so unwelcome—so undeserving that he'd seen himself out before he'd even had the chance to really explore.

He was afraid this venture would end the same way, but he was determined to give it a shot. He'd only been a page before. Now, he was a squire.

…And that had to count for something, right?

He lingered in the doorway for a moment longer before he sucked in a breath and stepped through.

Moss and vines littered the walls and pillars; the floor on the ground was made of crumbled stone. Debris littered the grounds and it looked like the place might once have been beautiful—but now it was only the decrepit remains. Slots in the walls served as windows; natural lighting illuminated the expansive room.

It didn't seem threatening, not like last time.

The last time Newgrange was here, he'd been certain he wasn't wanted. The whole place had felt cold and every step was like walking on needles. Now…

There wasn't that feeling. There wasn't anything.

It was just a place, on a warm, sunny day, that people hadn't inhabited for, oh, you know. A thousand years, give or take. And now that it didn't feel like he was being chased out, Newgrange was…almost enjoying it.

At the very least, he could appreciate the place, now. Intricate carvings in the wall. The architecture was amazing—unlike anything he'd ever seen. Everything felt pure and untainted and…magical.

It took about ten minutes for Newgrange to make his first circle around the upper floor—before he even realized there was a lower floor. The stairs were covered in cobwebs, and the moment he laid eyes upon them, suddenly the good feeling was gone. Back were the dread and trepidation, the cold chills.

Newgrange had to swallow the lump in his throat. A part of him thought about getting out, again. Going home and leaving early like he had last time.

But this time he had a reason to be here. Everyone had talked about rings, and he'd poked and prodded every visible surface.

Even when he turned away from the stairway, the feeling remained.

If there was something here, he'd disturbed it, and it wasn't happy with him.

So he sucked it up, stood tall, and made his way down the stairway like he owned the place.

Because, in some weird way, he did.

The hallway was dark and foreboding—and pitch black. Which would have been a problem if there wasn't the briefest light at the end of the hallway. It took a few seconds before he decided to walk there. And, cautious as always, he took each step hesitantly. He didn't know what he was testing for—holes in the ground, hidden traps. There was nothing.

Just a door, at the end of the hallway, with a crack in it. On the other side, there was light.

Except, he couldn't open it.

Newgrange ran his fingers over the stone slab, searching for a handle.

There were engravings, so far as he could tell. Markings, whose shapes he couldn’t make out. Spiraling lines and holes in the wall. It felt like it had been chipped away at. Hacked at, torn at, scratched at.

But it had withstood whatever wailed on it.

And it had no handle.

For near to ten minutes, he searched, and then the cold, overbearing chill overtook him. He had goosebumps, and if there had been light could have sworn he'd have been able to see his own breath. Newgrange wasn't afraid, but he was unnerved.

And he knew when he'd been bested.

He traced his fingers along the crack the light filtered through and sighed before he turned. Now, in the distance, he could see the light on the stairway. He was less cautious on his way back.

Somewhere in his Wonder was a Ring—and understanding of who he was supposed to be, what he was supposed to be doing.

But it was like his wonder was hiding it from him. Ascending the stairs, he immediately knew something was wrong. There was a stronger wind blowing now, and he could smell rain on the air. The sunlight was no longer warm and friendly instead, it was veiled by a dark layer of clouds.

But that wasn't what made him freeze in his tracks.

On the second to last step, he froze.

He didn't know what he'd expected to find here, but it hadn't been some guy staring down at him.

Neither moved for a moment, and Newgrange took the opportunity to take in the appearance of the stranger in front of him. Black hair, tied in a loose braid thrown over one shoulder. A uniform much like his own, but older. He could tell it had seen battle in a way he never had. There were pieces he recognized, that matched his own uniform. He had the symbols of an Earth Knight.

Scars marred what skin he could see; the most notable was a faded gash from one eye, across his nose and curling over his cheek.

The dark haired stranger watched Newgrange with cold, green eyes. Newgrange could have sworn he saw flecks of gold, but it might have been a trick of the light. He didn't know why that would have been important, or why it stuck out to him at all, except it did. Of all the things on this stranger, it was the eyes that had captivated him the most.

The stranger looked like he could have been Newgrange's age, or older; physically he had a face that looked mid twenties, but his eyes were just different. Newgrange couldn’t see anything particularly unnatural about the eyes, but they made him feel like this guy could see anything—could see right through him.

And before he could think to speak, the stranger did.

In a proud, strong voice he asked, "What are you doing here?"

Newgrange was taken aback by the coldness of the voice and faltered. "I…I don't know, I was just. Visiting."

The man persisted, obviously on guard. "How did you get here?"

"…I said the pledge," he replied hesitantly.

The man in front of him clenched his teeth—something Newgrange almost didn't catch. The wind blowing was the only noise for a few seconds.

"For Newgrange?"

"For Newgrange," he affirmed.

The dark haired man gave him one more scrutinous look and while he was doing so, Newgrange climbed the rest of the stairs and was strongly under the impression that rather than it be a free thing for him to do, he had been allowed it. The stranger watched him, chin raised just a bit.

Newgrange could see him looking down his nose at him, judging him, but he had very good reason to want to move away from the stairs. He put some distance between himself and them, backing towards the middle of the room. He didn't know what to make of the stranger but he wasn't sure he trusted him enough not to push him down the stairs. He felt like an intruder again—and had no idea who this guy even was.

Certainly Newgrange himself had a right to be here—at the Wonder he shared a name with. He had been given this responsibility, and to be chased from the grounds wasn't really his idea of doing his job. This stranger felt he had a right to be here—or he was a very convincing intruder.

And while Newgrange wasn't comfortable with it by any means, they were both here, and they were going to have to come to some understanding. But it seemed like the stranger was the one asking all the questions.

He wasn't even giving Newgrange a chance.

While he had remained stoic and statuesque, he began to move suddenly. The action was fluid and smooth and ,like a feral cat, the stranger was pacing around Newgrange. "Huh. Interesting, then. And you're supposed to be the protector of this place?"

"…I suppose." Suddenly he felt more like Arias than Newgrange. The questions of doubt were flickering into his mind again, but he forced himself to remain calm. If ever there was a time to keep calm, it was now—in front of someone he didn't know, but who he knew he didn't want to show weakness.

"…I don't see you around here much. What sort of Guardian are you if you're never around to guard the place?" the man snapped, violently jerking Newgrange from his thoughts. His voice was venom and he still walked in a circle around Newgrange.

Newgrange followed him with his eyes. Realization slowly hit. The odd, unfriendly energy from before. The one that tried to push him out. He had felt this before; the only difference was now he had a face for the problem. "…That was you before, wasn't it? The last time I was here."

"It was."

Newgrange's brows crinkled and he seemed perplexed. "Why?"

The man stopped walking and glowered at him. "Because I don't need you. Just go back to wherever you came from and stay gone. You aren't needed here. I've got this covered."

Newgrange swallowed; his brows knit and his mouth was suddenly dry. He fumbled for thoughts, for words.

The stranger didn't wait for him to respond, "So get out. Now."

"No," Newgrange blurted. His voice surprised him—and the man across from him. He swallowed the lump in his throat and continued, slower and calmer, "No. I don't understand all of this, and I'm sorry if you don't want me here, but—"

"You're damn right I don't want you here. Go."

A part of Newgrange wanted to leave. But there was the part of him—the part of him that was Newgrange—that grounded him there.

"I came here for something."

The man's eyes narrowed a bit. His head cocked just slightly. "For what?"

"Aside from answers?" It was a rhetoric question. "A ring. They said I could find it, here. At my Wonder."

"My Wonder," the man corrected.

Newgrange didn't argue, but his eyes drifted down to the man's hand, watching as he fiddled with a ring. He watched for a few seconds and then looked back up at the stranger's face.

At the face of the last Newgrange, apparently. A Knight who very clearly wanted nothing to do with him and saw him as the intruder.

Thunder rattled in the distance, but neither man moved.

Newgrange waited; the man before him seemed to be deep in thought as he twisted the ring, back and forth. Finally, he looked up at Newgrange and asked in a gravely voice, "If I give it to you, will you leave?"

For now, Newgrange wanted to say, but he suspect this other Knight wasn't going to appreciate the answer. Instead, he managed, "Yes."

The man turned the ring twice more on his finger, slowly and deliberately, and then lifted his hand. When he moved to pull the ring off, it stuck; he had to twist it sternly to remove it. Newgrange watched him hold the ring up to his face and look at it.

This was clearly no mere trinket; this man didn't want to give it up, for some reason. While Newgrange did not know all that ring meant, he knew that it made sense to be attached to anything you'd had for a thousand years. With reluctance and gruffness, the dark haired man held the ring out.

"Then take it, and go."

A callous, begrudging response, and one Newgrange could tell had clearly been forced.

He did not hesitate. He crossed the distance between the two, intent to claim the ring before the stranger changed his mind. When he reached for the ring, he noticed two things immediately.

The first, that the ring was real. The second, that the second his hand met with that of the stranger, it passed right through it. The ring suddenly began to fall, as though there were no solid platform for it to rest on, and Newgrange desperately groped for it. He managed to catch it before it hit the ground, but the cold eyes of the stranger were on him, judging him.

He looked at the ring quickly, clutchign it carefully in his hand, and then stood tall again, watching the stranger the whole time. "…Are you sure?" he asked, in a moment of doubt.

The man did not speak for a second and then scoffed, turning his back to Newgrange for the first time. "It is useless to me." He sounded bitter. Almost sad. "Everyone I knew is dead."

The wind was raging, now. Newgrange watched the man's back, watched the way the wind blew his hair. Or maybe it only looked like it was blowing his hair. Now, really looking at him, Newgrange thought he could see straight through him. He could see the window on the other side. The leaves of the vines moving with the air current. He swallowed, opening his mouth to say something.

Once more, the stranger beat him to it.

"You have your ring. You promised you'd leave."

"…I did. And I'll uphold that promise." Newgrange watched for a few more seconds. "Thank you."

The stranger did not respond to him, not really. He shrugged and Newgrange could have sworn he saw him nod, just once. And then he disappeared.

The cold, unwanted sensation had lessened a bit, but it was far from gone. He held open his palm and looked at the ring, rolling it around for a second before he made good on his promise.

This trip had not gone as he had expected, but he had come for the ring, and he left with it.

It, and a thousand questions.

Word Count: 2521

Backdated to November 28th