Knock Knock

[The Rogue Prince]

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𝖄𝕠𝕦 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕕𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕜𝕟𝕠𝕔𝕜 𝕒𝕘𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕒𝕗𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕒𝕚𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕒 𝕗𝕖𝕨 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕦𝕥𝕖𝕤.

ıllıllı ..... ıllıllı ..... ıllıllı ..... ıllıllı ..... ıllıllı ..... ıllıllı

Footsteps are heard on the other side and the door opens. You're greeted by a scruffy man with sunglasses and a cigarette decorating his face. He gives you a skeptical look only for a deep, bellowed laugh to sound right after.

"The hell ya doin' knockin' on a bar door?" he asks you in his raspy voice.

"I was certain you were th---" His sentence cuts off as you stand there gazing at him just as confused; his smile fades.
He looks over your clothing and you have to look yourself in case something was on them that made you look threatening in some way.
"Oh no..not another," you hear him mumble. "Aight, come on," he says and coaxes you inside. "Let's uh..get ya upstairs."

"Wait!" you say, but he presses his hand firmly onto your lower back.
You notice as you walk through the wood inspired bar that a bunch of on lookers seem to be staring at you with wide eyes. Even the bartender squints suspiciously before going back to cleaning a glass with his rag. Upstairs you find more of a seating area with booths and a balcony that faces the forest outside. The stars are still shining and you feel a bit tired, but far too awake to really attempt anything to sleep. This is a dream after all, no need to worry about such things. The older man guides you to one of the booths and you sit down. Taking a seat across from you, you get a better look at him. He's got peppered hair and slightly tanned skin. His black nails are mostly cut in a crude shape of sorts, every which way as if it were his first time using such a tool for your hands. He's got hairy arms, a red shirt with a black, leather coat covering it.

Taking a puff from his cigarette, he puts if out on the metal ashtray that sits on the table between the two of you.

"So...how'd ya get here. Tell me your story," he says.
"How? Um..." Well if this was going to be one of those dreams, you decide to just tell the truth. "My friend Damien gave me a gem and it sprouted some sort of vortex and here I am."
"A portal," he corrects you. "From a gem eh? What color was it?"
"Portal?"
"What color was the gem?"
"Silver I think? I saw a bit of red in it."
"Dammit, Addicus!" Gritting his teeth, he sighs out and rubs his temple.
"Did I miss something?"
"Nah, listen. I'll let you stay here fer t'night. I gotta getcha back home before the Council finds out you're here."
"The Council? Strange dream."
"It's not a dream. This is very much real."
"What--?"
"You ain't dreamin', Kiddo. Yer in another world and we gotta getcha back t' yer own time."
"I...don't know what to say."
"'Course ya don't. It's not ev'rday somethin' like this happens to ya."
"Time travel? Seriously?"
"Yeah. Seriously."
You just accept it. When you wake up, you'll have a lot to write about.
"Okay," you simply state.
"Damien you said yer friend's name was? I gotta figure out his association with Addicus t' make sure this don't happen again."
"What do I do in the mean time?"
"We'll worry about it tomorrow. Right now, get some sleep. I need you at yer best if I'm gonna interrogate ya."
"Interrogate?"
"I need info on Damien. It's vital."

He leads you back down the stairs and to a door on the side. Opening it, he reveals six beds and a large bathroom on the left.

"You can sleep here. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask. I'll be up until 2 at latest, but let's hope yer asleep by then.
Otherwise, just ask Sequoya. He's bartender right now until around ten."

"Right," you just say as you settle on the bed. "Thanks."

"Mhm. Rest well, Kiddo." Shutting the door, you look around.
This place, it's like a medieval tavern with the fabrics of cotton and flax evident in the decor and bedding. The pillows don't have polyester, they have fur. How strange and you wonder if what he said is true. Is this real? Are you not dreaming? Did you of all people somehow come upon a world that is like no other? A world meant to be hidden? Is this where writer's get their inspiration? Poets? Are the crazies in your world really telling the truth about magic and demons?

Your head hurts thinking about all the possibilities and you just hope that when you "sleep" here, you will wake up in your own bed again and dismiss all of this. After all, dreams should just stay dreams.  

[The Rogue Prince]

Morning comes and for a moment, you gaze out the window at the sun and feel home again.

Thank goodness, that's all that matters.
Sitting up though, you're proven wrong. It's that same place with the six beds and the single bathroom. <********," you huff under your breath.

You hear noise outside the door and a faint, "Hush! The guest is still sleeping!"
Right, you have to answer questions today. Alright. What is life anymore?
Getting out of bed, you go to wash your face and clean up. The shower was nice, though the hot water didn't last. The towels had an odd texture, but you still felt warm when exiting the room. The fire in the middle of the tavern kept it toasty for such an autumn day and you felt cleansed in some way despite the lack of proper necessities.
You sit at the bar and your eyes widen to the violet haired woman standing behind it. She gazes at you with her lavender eye shadow and pink lips; it contrasts heavily with her too pale skin and you wonder if she used too much foundation. She offers you a friendly smile and you return it nervously.

"Hi," is all you can say in such an awkward moment of eye contact.
"Good morning, Dear," she answers. "What would you like for breakfast? I can make just about anything."
Her british accent is a surprise, but you find it soothing in a way.
"Eggs and bacon?" you ask as the safest route.
"Very well. I'll get on that. Here's some water in the mean time."

Setting a glass of ice water in front of you, she goes through the door behind her in what you can only assume is the kitchen.
You sip at your water and it's refreshing. There's no real flavor to it like the tap water you sometimes taste at home. You look around again at all of the bar. This place was filled with strangers last night, yet now not a single one remains. There's portraits of kings on the wall and warriors. You gaze at a wanted poster of two individuals. One is of a stereotype vampire and the other of a silver haired being. You can't tell the gender of this one, just that their gaze reminds you of something you saw a long time ago.
You and Damien were playing in the sandbox at the park. He took off and you followed only to spot a pair of eyes gazing back at you from the dark forest trees. You froze in place and began to cry. That's when your mothers came to find you, scolded you for running off and took you home. Those eyes, gazed at you almost hungrily as if they wanted to devour you.

Shuddering at the memory, he turn to face the bar again and all of the liquor in its glory.
You've never been much of a drinker, but you went to plenty of parties with Damien over the years. You remember meeting his master once, but he didn't say much at the time.
He just nodded and politely introduced himself before informing Damien that he had to depart. He was mystery alright and you wondered why Damien's parents fought so desperately to keep them apart. Just how sinister was the lifestyle that your friend found himself in?

The bell to the front door rings and you glance back out of reflex. It's that guy from last night and he looks troubled.

"Mornin' Kiddo," he says and settles down beside you. "How'd you sleep?"
You were actually shocked at how fast you fell into slumber and how exhausted you felt for being in a complete stranger's house.
"Fine," you answer.
"Good. Want t' wait until after breakfast for questions?"
"Just get it over with."
"Aight. Let's begin."

His name was Jack, he told you.

"Ev'rone calls me Uncle Jack, which you can too if ya want," he added. You politely declined and said that Jack was fine. He explains that your friend may have accidentally placed you here and that you didn't belong in this time line. You tell him everything you know about Damien. He was someone you met in childhood and he grew up in a wealthy household. His mother was controlling, his father never around. The typical trope of a teenage chic flick. He laughs at the description and continues writing in this leather journal he brought with him. The pencil is crudely made like a lot of things here, but you just smile politely.

When you mention that Damien was forcefully drafted years back and separated from his master, Jack seems particularly interested. He asks a series of questions about Damien's master, but none come to fruition overall. You hesitate to answer anything too personal and Jack understands. He said he just wanted to know mainly who they were and how they were connected here.
"That's all the info I need," he explains and shuts his journal. "Now, I recommend you stay here fer the time bein'. It ain't safe out there, especially for a mortal that's never encountered half the s**t here."
Stranger still is the way Jack refers to you. It's as if he's an entirely different species of human from you. He refers to you as mortal, fragile, delicate; all words of something that could shatter so easily. It bothers you a lot because it's insulting in a lot of ways. He doesn't know what you're capable of. All of the sports you played growing up or the defense classes your mother made you take despite your gender. You didn't really have one of those now, so you guess it's alright.

"What am I suppose to do here then?" you ask.
"Well you could earn yer keep by helpin' with the work," he suggests, but soon after laughs at the look on your face. "I'm just kiddin'. But really, you can wander around here with an escort an ******** 'round. Tylena is near by, I can let Amethyst take ya there for a day o' fun eh? We'll see. I'll check up on ya later though, enjoy your breakfast."
You glance down at your cold eggs and bacon. You were do distracted talking that you forgot to eat. Sighing out, you eat it anyway and set the plate on the counter top. That purple haired woman wasn't around right now so you just decide to go look outside.  

[The Rogue Prince]

The afternoon air is nice, but the chill of the autumn breeze nips at your cheeks.

You're silently thankful for the long shirt you decided to wear, but it's still cold. You linger in the doorway to keep the heat inside on your back. The sun is clear as ever and the clouds around it are faint. Taking a deep breath, the fresh air enters your body. It's the cleanest you've ever smelled. Everything here seems that way. Even your breakfast, despite being cold, was still very delicious. It's organic in a way, like you're experiencing the true natural way of things. It's inconvienent, you'll admit, but definitely different.

Pulling your phone out for the first time, you wonder why you hadn't thought to call someone sooner. No signal. How unfortunate.
"Figures," you sigh and pocket it again.

A sound of crying can be heard and it sounds like an animal. You perk up and look around to see where it's coming from. Oh no. It's coming from the dark forest and you're a child again, gazing up at it. You're searching for those eyes, but they're no where to be seen. You hear the cry again and start to panic. That poor creature really sounds like it's in pain. ******** glance back but no one is around and so you call instead.
"Jack?"
No answer. Silence.
What was the name of the other person he mentioned? Amura? Amay? ********!" You call again, but nothing. Of course, but you're not stupid enough to go see the animal. It's obvious this could be a trap like in a horror movie and so you begrudgingly shut the door to block out the sound. It's still as clear as day though despite the wall between the two of you and you decide you'll ask Jack to check it out later when he's not doing whatever.
You looked for him or that other woman just in case, but found no sign of anyone. There was a locked door up the stairs and though you knocked on it repeatedly, no one answered. You're alone and that cry will not stop.

"Ugh!" you groan and pull a pillow over your head.
All afternoon it cries and you wonder if you arm yourself and just go look from a distance on the outside of the forest if you'll be okay. Just a quick look and then come back.
"Fine!" You finally decide and grab a knife from the kitchen. You set out and wonder if you're just really brace or really stupid.  

[The Rogue Prince]

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𝖄𝕠𝕦'𝕣𝕖 𝕢𝕦𝕖𝕤𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣𝕤𝕖𝕝𝕗 𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥 𝕟𝕠𝕨.

Why are you doing this?

You realize after a few minutes of walking through the bustling forest that you no longer are doing it because you desire to, but because you feel compelled to. You wouldn't do this at all normally, but something is pulling you as a magnet would and it's a bit terrifying really. You're hoping it won't prevent you from fighting, but you're honestly trying not to cry right now. Why is this happening? Where are you going? This animal's cries could be the reason as it hasn't stopped in the couple of hours you were in the bar.

You notice the sunset seems so clear from here and the clouds are blending nicely with the sky, but how can you think about that right now?
A drop of water falls onto your head and as you glance up, you wonder where all the clouds suddenly came from. Didn't you just look up and see the sunset? How did it become night so fast and when did the forest become so quiet?

Quiet.

The cries aren't happening anymore, yet you're still walking. It's when you reach a small clearing near a river that you cease all movement.
Your body doesn't feel like lead anymore and you gasp out from the breath you were holding. You seemed to have lost your sense of time here.
Gripping the knife in your hand, you scan your surrounding and press the tip of your foot into the soft grass. It's luscious here and tall; easy to hide in.
A rustling sound has you turning swiftly and you raise the blade, ready to defend yourself. You should head back right now, but you're too disturbed to do much.
You have to remember which way you came from as well.
Your eyes widen at a black stag that comes trotting out from the forest.
It's gorgeous in all of its natural beauty, but those gold eyes that gaze into you seem to bore into your soul in an unnatural way.
Shaking its head from side to side, it seems to glower at you as it snorts.

"Shhh...it's okay," you say as you raise your hands in surrender. That somehow makes it worse and the stag digs it's front foot into the ground, readying to charge.
"Oh no!" You cry and begin to dart back to the way in which you believe you came. You can hear it's heavy foot falls onto the ground as it chases ********!" you cry out and try to pick up your speed, but these damn trees and their roots are preventing you from gaining any momentum. When you take a glimpse back for a mere second, you can see how close the huge buck is, swiftly hopping over the roots far more graceful than you ever could. He's going to catch you and you've heard horror stories of people dying from these things.
You cry out for help despite how useless it may be only for something to whiz past your face. A huge light shines behind you, but you don't look back as you keep running. It's only when you don't hear the steps or the snorting anymore that you dare to look back and find yourself alone. You stop to take a breath, raggedly at that as you need to quench your throat. You're too scared to look for water now though, your hands trembling. You lost the knife ages ago when you nearly tripped over a root.

The issue now is...you're lost.

You look around and cross your arms over yourself. It's gotten later and you're cold.
The long sleeves aren't doing it anymore and the bite of the wind hurts your cheeks and hands.
You're such a ******** idiot, but you know you couldn't help it. It was just something that told you to.

"Help..." you cry with a pitiful tone. Squeezing your eyes shut, you open them again and becomes startled almost instantly. You scream and fall back.
"Whoa! Whoa! Take it easy," the stranger says with a friendly grin. They offer out their hand to you and keep that smile plastered on.
"Who are you?" you demand and force yourself back onto your feet in case you need to take off.
"My name is Tam Lin," he answers, blowing some pink locks out of his eyes. "What's your name?"
"Never mind that. Why are you here? I need to get back to Jack."
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that, Human."
Human? You notice now the halo, the wings, the light.
"Are you...an angel?"
"That's right. I'm one of the Council Members that watches over this realm. Mind telling me how you got here? I know you're not from this place."
"I...." You shiver and embrace yourself. "Can we talk somewhere inside please?"
"No problem. Right this way."

He's an angel, you find him alright to follow and so without hesitation, all of Jack's words melt away into your mind as you find sanctuary in this new friend.

...