Old Soul Syndrome |ONC 2020|

Háligmónaþ 28, 1066

We've been watching the ships all morning. They popped up on the horizon a little after sunrise and have been making their way toward Pevensey Bay. I can hear the shouting coming from around the fort from my place on a bluff, watching out over the sea.

I don't know what they think they're going to do.

We have no way to put up a fight. King Harold dismissed most of the fyrd after defeating his brother. All we can do is wait and watch as the Norman ships approach. And there are many, many ships.

It's like waiting to watch the first sparks of a fire. Where will it catch? How quickly will it burn? Who and what and how many will it take?

I seem to have found myself at the beginning of a war this time. The woman I woke up as, Aeleva, she's lived through a few years of war already. It took her two brothers and the man who would have been her husband. Her mother died giving birth to her younger sister, and that sister eventually married and moved away.

She is alone now.

She sees no point in staying to watch anyone else get killed, but can't quite bring herself to leave Pevensey. Aeleva was born here. Raised here.

For my part, I've had enough of blood and death. 

I...I remember watching Gabriel burn. When the news had come from Paris that the Crown had arrested thousands of Templars, Eleanor hadn't been able to stay away. Despite her mother's protests and the dangers of the journey, she'd taken their draft horse and ridden hard into the city. She'd stayed there for weeks, trying to find some way to talk to him, to ask about the letter he'd left.

She had barely recognized him beneath the horrid wounds marring his face when he and several of his brother knights were dragged into one of the main squares and put to death for heresy. She'd—I'd broken down in tears when he had finally started screaming.

I never want to see anything like that ever again. Hanging around for the pillaging doesn't seem like the best way to do that. But I don't know where else to go. Undoubtedly any battle will either be met here at the fort or farther north if the Normans are impatient.

They're making land now. I can hear their shouts and see the fierce dragon heads of the ships' prows. Perhaps I will merely sit here and watch the war flow past me. If I am still and quiet enough, will they see me?

In any case, moving now in the broad daylight seems like a bad idea. I brought some bread and cheese with me, intent on breaking my fast in the company of the sunrise. I was just as surprised as everyone else to find the wide bay littered with the colorful sails of hundreds of ships.

I might just sit here and watch the horror unfold, pretending that it has nothing to do with me.

Which, I guess, is partly true. For Abby, this is ancient history. It's probably something she forgot about in a high school class.

I suppose I don't really have to make a decision right now. Even if I wanted to leave, running off without knowing where the Norman soldiers are going seems exceptionally foolish. Aeleva is many things, but foolish is not one.

And I'm tired. The Normans will take over the fort and perhaps make camp around it. I'm far enough away that I should be relatively safe. If not...I have a dirk on my belt.

And Aeleva knows how to use it.