𝕭𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝕿𝖜𝖔
𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: From trolls to dragons to foreign princesses, Astraea Aphelion grows stronger as she
continues to navigate medieval Britain using her wit and heart, standing unshaken beside Merlin and Arthur as they face every threa...
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📍 San Antonio, Texas
⏳October, 2023
[trigger warning: disease, death]
I leant on the oak fence that contained Dallas's paddock, using my uninjured arm as support. As it turned out, my other arm had sustained a very minor fracture. Surgery wasn't required, thankfully. Only a cast and medicine for the pain. I realised I had been underrating modern medicine until then – it is unlikely that Gaius's care would have lead to a full recovery, as much as it pains me to say it.
The cremello Thoroughbred trotted up and down the fence. I had never seen him so uneasy. During my time away, my family had sold the other two horses that used to live alongside Dallas, since none of them had time to give them the attention they deserved. Which meant that my beloved horse was completely alone and, to a herd animal, that was incredibly distressing.
"Dal, you're okay," I spoke weakly, doubting he'd heard me over his incessant neighing. I sighed and dropped my head to rest on top of my good arm over the fence.
Footsteps behind me made me pull away.
"Sage and I are headin' to the hospital. You comin'?" Oliver asked. I bit my lip and turned back to look at Dallas, noticing that he had calmed down and was now grazing. "Sure. He'll be fine for a few hours," I nodded and followed him to his car.
The ride to the hospital was mostly silent, other than the radio playing the latest country hits – which I was unfamiliar with. So I busied myself with looking out the window. Everything looked so artificial to me, like it was made of cardboard or plastic. The square, monotonous buildings held no charm, on the contrary, they seemed cold and lifeless. The people in the streets walked straight ahead, almost always sporting wireless earbuds that disconnected them from their environment. They dressed in plain suits or similar colourless attires that made them all look the same. Their faces were serious, stoic. No one exchanged glances or smiles. Each person was locked inside their own little bubble, immune to those around.
I couldn't remember a time when I'd walked down the streets of the Camelot citadel without being greeted by vendors. They were always so cheery. Their stands full of colours, and delicious smells, and unique hand-crafted artefacts. My heart clenched.
A headache plagued me once more as I stepped out of the car, thanking Oliver for holding the door open for me. Upon entering the building, I decided to take the stairs and avoid the elevator.
Just like the afternoon before, the five of us sat in the room and shared stories. Or they did. I remained mostly silent, my mind elsewhere as I pondered my future. Did I really want to live the rest of my life wondering every single day if my loved ones and I were going to return home alive from facing the latest magic threats? It seemed exhausting, and bound to end terribly. The 21st century, though cold and colourless, seemed safer. The future was, for the most part, certain. Go to college, work for 40 years, retire, die in a hospital – surrounded by good people, if one was lucky.
