The Young Foreigner [The Sahara Chronicles #1]

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Part II: A Dream

It did not take much time for the story of the young Foreigner’s healing abilities to spread across the small kingdom of Aloris. And soon, the lad, who revealed his name to be Yor Castel, began having visitors. John was very grateful for having his wife nursed back to health. He was quite willing to keep his promise and give away his farm-land.

Yor, however, refused with utmost politeness.

The farmer relented, but he would not be satisfied till he struck a bargain. So, he said, “At least, let us host you for as long as you want to stay in this village, Yor.”

The young lad smiled warmly at this. “That I shall accept. Thank you, sir.”

“Please,” said Alia, approaching from behind her husband, “feel free to look at this humble home as your own. Do not hesitate if you need something.”

Time passed quickly on the farm-land. Yor observed the goings-on carefully, especially the labourers at work. Or, the children playing about would draw him into their games. He had not planned on a definite period of stay in the Kingdom of Aloris, but he could not find the courage to leave either. There was something about the surroundings that made him feel at home. He had been to several places in the past year, but this was by far the only place that gave him such a homely feel, besides his own home country of Grant.

When he was not observing the labourers or playing with the children, Yor would roam around the small kingdom, gaining a sense of peace and tranquillity – just as though he were back home. This feeling was novel to him. It puzzled him a little, though not necessarily disturbing.

What did keep him occupied was the recurring dream he had been having for a week since entering Aloris.

Now, a fortnight later, it occurred once more:

Yor was taking a walk through his home village of Selina, one of the provinces of the Kingdom of Grant. He was a little boy of nine, his parents still alive. He was dawdling around aimlessly, when, without deliberation, he chanced upon the Selina Forest at the edge of the village.

Here, young Yor decided to explore the unknown territory, despite knowing that he would most likely get a sound talking to from his parents once he went back to his cottage. This was not such a worry matter, though, as it happened to him all the time. One more would not make much of a difference.

As he walked, he kept a wary eye out for the forest beings that everybody in the village was always talking about. He could not help but feel a little nervous, although he refused to turn tail and run away.

Soon, he stumbled upon a well. It was a regular-looking one, quite old, it seemed. Upon approaching, young Yor realised that the well went down much deeper than he had imagined.

The wishing well,’ thought the boy, excitement building up inside his chest, for this was the first time he had ever seen the fabled structure.

Yor could clearly see water inside the well. It appeared just like any other, but he was not so sure about it. Magical material always looked different, this he knew from his apprenticeship lessons. He peered inside once more; this time, though, the crystal-clear water changed colour and a face began forming in it: a heart-shaped face with a soft nose and a pair of soft dark eyes, red hair, and a small chin. A lady.

Yor stared transfixed at the image in the well. He had never seen the likes of her before and wondered who she was. She seemed to be around the same age as himself – perhaps a little younger.

Yor closed his eyes momentarily.

When he awoke, he was back in the guest room of the Hudson family.

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