My foster…my parents set up the guest bedroom for me and Guinevere. I collapsed into the bed and Guinevere curled up next to me, her hair spreading over my chest like a waterfall of silk. My mind went dark as I collapsed into a void of thoughts. Eventually, the empty expanse of dreams was replaced by a burning city and the screams of men, women, and children dying. Numbers scrolled past my vision listing off every casualty as a beast roared in savage triumph.

I jerked awake. It wasn’t a vision this time; those were just memories of what I’d done to Camelot. I put on a brave uncaring face to others but even I couldn’t be unaffected by what I had done. I pushed aside the guilt; I had done what I had done, and if put in the same situation again I’d do it all again. Knowing my enemies, I would be put in the same situation again, so this wouldn’t be the last time my sleep was plagued by nightmares.

I put on a fresh pair of clothes, it was around noon, and I was alone in the guest room. Guinevere was in the kitchen with my…mom.

The realization that these people were my parents in all the ways that mattered was something the old me wouldn’t have been able to understand. But I’d changed, and that alone was evident by how I had to duck every time I went through a doorway. I’d only lived with Peter and Amanda for a few years but they had been an anchor for me during the difficulties of high school, and the fallout of my disastrous first love.

I leaned against the doorway as I silently watched Guinevere and my mom interact.

“Where did you and Mark meet?” she asked.

“We met in…I don’t know your word for it. What do you call a place filled with monsters?” she asked.

“Monsters?” Amanda asked, turning to her.

“I forgot, you don’t have those here,” Guinevere said flushing. “Um, we were in a battle and…”

“Oh, you must have met online in one of his video games,” Amanda said.

“Probably best to let her think that,” I said entering the conversation. “We probably don’t want to destroy their conception of reality in one go like that.”

“What language is that?” Peter asked, walking into the room.

“Evaron,” Guinevere answered.

“And is that where you’ve been?” Amanda asked.

“That is, difficult to explain,” I said.

“I didn’t want to ask about it last night but… you’ve changed a lot,” Peter said. “You’re taller, and by a lot. You’re as muscled as a body builder and those scars. What have you gotten yourself into?”

“I was selected for a competition where I… had to fight a lot of things, and people,” I said choosing my words as carefully as I could. “My sponsor wanted me to win but wasn’t happy with the way I was doing so and tried to push me to do something I wasn’t willing to, so she kicked me out of… the program.”

“So, you were in some underground fighting ring?” Amanda asked. “Why would you do that to yourself, did they surgically alter you?”

“I would love to explain but you lack the frame of mind to properly grasp what I’ve been through and how I’ve changed,” I said.

Peter was about to say more but Amanda put a hand on his arm. “That’s fine, just tell us when you’re ready. I’m glad your home.”

Jeriah ran in from outside. They’d had to keep him outside so I could get some rest as he flung himself in my legs. I smiled and bent down, running my hands through my old dog’s fur. He whined, his muzzle digging into me as he wriggled under my hands.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“You should take him for a walk,” Peter said. “My lunch is over, so I need to head back to work but I’ll see you for dinner.”

“I’ll be here,” I promised.

We made small talk for another hour. I could tell my mom wanted to ask more questions, but she held off, likely thinking that if she did ask, I would disappear again. I grabbed Jeriah’s leash and started on a walk-through town. Just like my old house and apartment, everything seemed different. It hadn’t been as pronounced as my old apartment since all my old furniture was gone, but the house had still been mostly the same. The town was different too, it had been over four years since I had been here and some businesses had changed, new buildings existed, and old ones were missing.

I passed by my old high school. It still looked pretty much the same, the same brick exterior, the football and track field and the baseball field to the side, a statue of a rearing horse in front of its doors. It was summer so there was no school, but some kids were still on the field or had summer school.

I moved past having no desire to walk those halls again. I kept moving, turning around to head back home. I passed by the town’s elementary school. There must have been an event of some kind because parents were picking up their kids or dropping them off. I stopped to let Jeriah catch his breath and drink from a fountain as I waited for the crowd of screaming kids to pass.

Once they’d cleared out for the most part, I started moving again.

“Mark?” someone asked behind me.

I didn’t respond right away as it took a minute to remember that was my old name.

“Mark?” the soft female voice asked again.

I turned my head and saw Sarah. She looked different but my old high school sweetheart was still recognizable. The freckles across her nose and face made her still look young and her bright eyes still had that mischievous glint to them.

“Sorry,” I said. “You must have me confused with someone else.”

I turned and kept moving.

I arrived back at my house and let Jeriah loose. He was tired and sagged to the ground to take a nap. I was suddenly stricken with the realization of just how old he was. He wasn’t the puppy I’d known anymore and was in the last few years of his life. A conflict of emotions went through me, I should have visited my parents and not just cut myself off. I’d been selfish only thinking about my own pain. I’d left my dog for years and was basically a stranger now.

But what right did I have to mourn the inevitable death of my dog. I’d killed so many people who I didn’t even know the names of, but I felt more guilt and sorrow over the death of a dog?

A car pulled up outside the house.

“Mark, I know it’s you,” Sarah said.

I sighed.

“It is not,” I said.

“We need to talk, I have things I need to say to you,” she insisted.

I sat down on the porch and turned to look at her.

“You don’t even know who you’re talking to anymore,” I said. “The things you needed to say were for a different person.”

“I’m sorry,” Sarah said. “I hurt you, I hurt you in a way I knew would hurt more than anything.”

I shrugged. “That pain is gone now.”

“It gone?” she asked disbelievingly.

“I’m married now,” I said. “I’m about to be a father, I’ve seen things you can’t imagine and done things that you only can. I thought I might feel that old rage if I saw you again but… I just don’t.”

“Do you forgive me?” Sarah asked.

“I’m not sure,” I said with another shrug. “What you did was wrong, but now…. I just don’t care. If you need forgiveness, I’ll give it to you, but it only matters to one of us.”

“What happened to you?” Sarah asked. “I heard you died?”

“I did,” I stated. “Mark is dead, you’re talking to his ghost. now I’m just Mordred.”

“You’re talking like you joined some cult,” Sarah said looking at me with trepidation.

The porch creaked behind me as Guinevere stepped outside.

“Who is this?” Guinevere asked me.

“Sarah, this is my wife Guinevere,” I said.

Guinevere wasn’t wearing her veil, her unearthly beauty on full display. She looked at Sarah and the light of recognition flashed in her eyes. She had seen my memories back in the Underlands and Sarah hadn’t changed enough to be unrecognizable.

“This is her?” she asked me. “Why is she here?”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry; I wanted closure,” Sarah said, feeling very awkward and self-conscious in front of Guinevere.

“Then you’ve done what you came here to do,” Guinevere said coldly. “I don’t want to see you around my husband again.”

There was something in Guinevere’s words that conveyed just how grave a threat that was and Sarah quickly got back in her car and drove away.

“Are you alright?” Guinevere asked sitting down beside me.

“Yes and no,” I said. “Its nothing to do with Sarah; I thought I might feel something when I talked to her but… I just didn’t. But I did realize how selfish I was, hiding from my pain. I should have come home and spent time with my parents. They deserved more than what I gave them.”

Guinevere leaned her head against my shoulder. “Your world is foreign, but it has its own kind of beauty.”

“We might be here awhile,” I said. “So, we should try to enjoy our rest and see as much of it as we can.”