Strange and Stranger

I didn't believe that there could be such magic until lightning struck me. Then, I was swallowed into a spinning dark vortex like a lifeless being. 

I was out of my existence, traveling more than a thousand miles to another. 

It all happened in a flash. 

…

My eyes opened at a place somewhere in a town. A new family, and a life. 

It was the 18th century, the era of angels, demons, shifters and witches. 

Just like that, I knew everything—they were familiar. Yet, the voice of the old witch continued to echo in my head. 

 "You've been given another chance to rewrite your destiny in a different dimension. A phase has begun. Make it right…"

A bright white light engulfed my face as my memory was erased. 

My memory was erased. I didn't remember how or when I got there. All I knew was that I was set to get married. 

…

Ava's Point of View in the 18th century. 

The mixed emotions I had been feeling about my upcoming wedding still mess with me to this day.

According to my parents, Thompson would make a good husband. We would not have to worry about owning a piece of land and a house for my family in return. 

I wasn't in love with him, but I couldn't dishonor my parent's wishes either way. 

I was the first daughter, with three other sisters who were already married to rich men in the town. Except that my elder brother, who is the first and only son, isn't married yet. He had been in the military and would marry soon. 

The thing is, I'm already twenty-six without a husband of any sort and so Sir Thompson was the nearest to accept a scrap like me. 

 "Seriously, Ava, do you always have to write in that trash book all the time? If you find a reputable man to marry like your sisters did, then your father and I wouldn't throw you at a sixty-year-old man—as a third wife," Mother blurted out as soon as she barged into the room. 

Her lips wiggled as she drew closer. 

 "I'll send in Maria to… deal with those dark patches around your eyes. Sir Thompson would not like that." 

With that, she walked to the door as I spoke up. 

 "He would marry a scrap like me anyway, but thank you so much for your efforts in… finding me a very mature man for a husband," I sarcastically said.

She headed out finally and I heaved a deep sigh. 

I closed my journal and wrapped it with a ribbon like I always do. 

I grabbed a cloak from the hanger to take a walk. 

It would be better than being constantly reminded that my sisters were married at an early age, in their full prime. 

Maria walked in almost hurriedly as she voiced out. 

 "Miss, I have come to rub some oil—"

 "Maria, I am going out to find solitude in the gardens," I said as she nodded lightly. At least she understood that I didn't want to be chaperoned either. 

I managed my way past the guards. As soon as my feet touched the ground outside my home, I hurried as far as my feet could take me until I was standing in front of a middle-class pub.

According to social rules, women were forbidden to visit pubs, but over the years of harsh ridicule and unending comparisons, the pub had been my secret place.

Sometimes, I worked there as a waitress, which my parents didn't care about because I was useless to them. 

 "You are here, Ava, aren't you set to marry Sir Thompson tomorrow? The news is all over the town," the pub owner, Derek, asked as I sat by the wooden counter with my cloak on. 

 "So they say, perhaps this is my last time coming here. I've come to pay homage and say goodbye. Derek, you've been a great friend. Thank you for being so nice to me!" 

We both laughed as he poured me some strong brandy. I gently took a sip and forced a smile. 

 "I have some customers coming in. Keep a low profile, madam," he teased, and he left while I nodded. 

 "I didn't know that women were free to enter pubs in… Western…"

I heard a man's rough, soothing voice speak from behind me. I took another sip and turned to him without interest. 

He was not from here. He seemed like a traveler, a well-to-do one at that. I stared at him, analyzing his outfit.

He had this chiseled face, full and lengthy wavy long golden hair, neatly tied behind him. 

His eyes were also golden, and I just couldn't tell if he was a human. The Western men around here do not have long hair. Was he royalty? I wondered. 

 "You know, you could get in trouble for saying that to me," I confidently and finally said. He gave a dry chuckle and sat next to me, pouring himself some brandy as well.

 "With whom, pretty?" he asked. 

I blushed. I've not had a man call me pretty before. 

 "With me." I snapped, raising a brow. 

He titled a brow in doubt, "I see…" he said. "I like your manners, conflicting and chaotic…"

 "Is that a compliment? Weren't you raised to compliment ladies from wherever you were born?"

 "Ladies, you say, but you are not. You are obviously the only female in the pub," he said, looking around and shifting his gaze back towards me. "Other ladies are out there promenading."

 "Excuse you, despicable man, I'm not some cultivated lady who is sworn to stroll in gardens and swears loyalty to a man," I blurted out. I was pissed. 

He remained calm for some moments and then spoke up. 

 "I didn't mean to… upset you with my words. I only spoke what I saw, and yes, it is an honest compliment. I've never seen a lady more willed than you. I think you are pretty and… stubborn, of course," he said, and a small smile settled on my lips. 

 "Did you have to rile me up to understand certain things?! Well, I'm a little curious about you. You are not from here, are you?" I asked. He gulped the contents first. 

 "You are sharp."

 "Any other person can tell the difference. I think that you are a prince of some lost folklore," I said, and he cracked up. His fine set of teeth charmed me. Plus, he smelled like Jazmine flowers. 

 "I see. Well, I'm not from here. Yes, but I don't plan on returning either. I am an explorer who is a total stranger at home and I have decided to spend the night in Western. I have no tour guide, but somehow I landed in a pub and here I am… with you," he explained with regret in his tone. 

 "Well, you have arrived in good hands. Western people are very hospitable…" I said to him, leaning closer as I whispered to him. "And greedy…" I added. 

He laughed, "That is a bad way to talk about your people, no?"

 "No. I'm a victim of greed, I tell you. I'm set to marry a man that is thrice my age. I'm here to drown in my misery of being… an old scrap, of course…" I said.

I should not have said that, but there is nothing that alcohol cannot do. I said too much. 

 "You weren't supposed to hear that," I added, rubbing my hand lightly. 

 "I know how that feels. I've been there... Still there, even…" he said, and for a split second, we were now staring at each other like we had rather known each other for our entire lives. 

 "I umm… I had better go now. You are right, a lady is not meant to visit such a place…" I hurriedly rose to leave as he held my wrist. 

I swallowed up, I felt a chill in my spine when his warm skin met mine. 

Was I supposed to feel some way towards a total stranger? I argued inside of me. 

 "Please, don't go yet! I mean, who would show me to an inn where I could pass the night? I promise to compensate you. It would be very kind of you. Please," he said as he let my hand slowly fall off. 

 "Okay," I said, and we headed out of the pub together after bidding Derek goodbye. 

…

It was already nighttime.

We rode.

 "Don't worry, I won't let you fall. I'm a sworn protector," he whispered in my ear as we continued to ride. Something about his hot breath against the side of my face ignited a wind of emotions within me. 

His chest pressed against my back, his strong hands over mine on the reins. 

Right now, all I wanted was for him to take me with him, wherever he went. I would gladly pick a stranger over an old man that I was forcefully set to marry at dawn—but it was all a thought. 

 "Do you have a woman in your life?" I asked before I could rethink my words.