TELL-TALE SILENCE

Prologue

A/N: Please, read the note below. Thank you.

"I wish it need not have happened in my time,"

"So do I, and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."

J.R.R. TOLKIEN, "Lord of the Rings".

It's cold.

So cold.

Her feet are freezing inside the thin moccasins she wears and the shabby cloak, once black, it's almost soaking wet from the snow that had been falling for days, light and quiet. She can't stop trembling. She can see, through the blue haze and the swelling of her red eyes, the sharp road she's been following for hours, days, perhaps. She's been crying, terrified, especially at night.

She raises her eyes to the stormy sky. The silence it's only broken by the wind, the rustling of the tall, tall trees and her footsteps. She inhales deeply, closing her eyes, standing in the middle of the barely visible road. She is tired and numb.

She wants to go home.

But there's no time for that as she opens her eyes, startled at the sound of hooves in the distance, a distance uncomfortably close for her taste.

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I don't know…I don't know where to begin explaining all the strange things that have happened in the past few months… I can't….It's just that is something too big, too awkward and amazing for the mind to understand it.

First I'm at the medium's office and the next moment I'm in ancient Britain.

Crazy? I don't think so.

Before that I had a normal life. I had no especial skills; I was as ordinary as any normal person. I was finishing my career, I was in love, I had an amazing father, a not so amazing mother, a definitely not amazing brother and a lovely dog. I had friends, family, happiness… I had a future back then.

But, suddenly, there was no future for me but just the past.

I don't remember the words of the medium, not even her face. I just remember that I went there to ask about a friend who recently died. I wanted to say goodbye. And mediums are supposed to talk with death people, aren't they? But something went wrong when she said nothing, staring at me as I was something she had waited for too long, closing the door, closing the windows and the scent of incense becoming more intense, suffocating, and she begin to sang, with the jingle of her bracelets and her eyes closed, then wide, then blue, then grey, then white…

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She runs.

She runs as fast as her legs can, as fast as her stifled heart allows. She can hear them now, so close, so close, they are going to catch her, so close, where can she hide?

"HEY, YOU!"

Trees.

Of course.

She does not stop thinking. She gets off the road and flies into the dark forest. The roman soldiers stop their horses, cursing when the mists swallow her.

"What the hell was that? A ghost?"

His companion shakes his head.

"Don't be stupid, Avenadero, idiota. That was probably a bloody Woad" he spits into the ground "Those damn painted bastards…"

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Back then, I remember the fear, the feeling of being lost, abandoned by everyone and everything, the confusion and the sense that I've had lost my mind. Then I told myself that I was dreaming that I would wake up at any moment. It has to be a dream, I thought. It has to be.

One can think "oh, you have traveled back in time; you had the change of living a real adventure. Imagine what time you are in, what kind of people you're going to meet, what sort of things you can do…it's like in the films, like in the books! So cool, then why are you weeping so pathetically?"

Why I was weeping? Well, because time travels weren't "cool" as the films or the books implied. Not one bit.

That was my idea in that moment, with my feet freezing, my clothes wet, the snow melting in my hair. I just cried then, first because I was confused, then because I was scared, in shock, finally because the tears were warm against my pale cold face.

I was thrown into a road to nowhere which took me into the forest I lost in, trying to escape from those romans and, now I know, from the reality of my situation.

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Hours later the soft white snow has become black under the shadow of the trees in the middle of the night. She's resting under a tree, exhausted, her legs trembling of the effort. She pants, searching for air. After a while, she calms down. Her eyes begin to shut, slow.

She dreams of home.

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After the escape I realized that I was lost. But it wasn't something very new to me; I was already lost in a lot of ways. I remember myself falling asleep from exhaustion, despite the coldness I felt in my bruised skin and in my bones.

Before Morpheus took me into his merciful embrace I wondered into which bloody time had sent me that bloody witch…

Who would believe me now if I said that I lived in the time of the great King Arthur?

Good evening:

I just want to welcome everybody who has entered "Tell-Tale Silence" and I want to invite you to follow this story that talks about love, yes, but also about the human beings, their feelings and their ways.

I will update at least once a month, if I'm inspired, two. And it depends also (why not to tell?) on the reviews. If people's reading and I know they are reading, alright, then I know I'm not wasting my time. If not, I'll leave this project. Simple.

Anyway, this is just the introduction. Things will get clear and more interesting in a few chapters, so faith on me, please.

My OC is going to be as real as possible and I will be as faithful to the real characters of the film King Arthur as I can. It's my first story and I'm totally improvising it. There's another important thing: I'm not English, I'm from Spain, and I don't write as well as a native would. I don't have anybody that corrects me, so don't mind the mistakes or inform me, please. But seriously, I love English and Great Britain and English people. I love them that's why I'm writing in such, for me, lovely language.

Thanks for your time and kindness.

Fondly:

Karvansarai