"Time dampens afflictions and disagreements because we change and almost become different men."

Blaise Pascal.

When a wizard opens a portal, whether it is to another world or within his own, a thin layer of energy forms a barrier that prevents the exchange of air or anything else, like a transparent film separating the two places. The wizard, when crossing it, does not feel any difficulty and just changes places without transition, without feeling any effect, besides being instantaneous.

That's why Igor didn't take long to find out that there was something very wrong with that pursuit, since the passage through the portal did not occur in the usual way. For the first time, he had the impression of floating in nothingness and also began to feel a strange malaise that was accompanied by a dizziness and, soon after, a strong sensation of sensory deprivation that scared him a lot. He wouldn't be able to explain how long he spent in that process, because it could well have been ten seconds or an eternity. He was already on the verge of despair when he felt his body again, finding out that he was falling, luckily into something soft.

Not two seconds later, letting out another swear word, the bird came to rest on top of him and the young man thanked the Goddess for him not having turned into the dragon before entering the portal, because he would have ended up crushed by the weight of the giant.

Too dizzy to get up, Igor remained quiet until he was sure it was safe to get up. The first one was Gwydion, who took flight to a nearby tree, perching on a branch.

"We are in some open place, with low houses of primitive aspect and you are lying on a pile of hay. This must be a farm or something similar" explained the dragon, still in the shape of a bird. "There are people coming and they don't look friendly at all, so you better recover soon."

The young man got up slowly, still incapacitated, and saw the men in the distance, but remained seated on the hay.

"I'm too dizzy to stand up and something happened to me, because I can't invoke my powers not even to improve or heal myself" said Igor, worried. "It must have been something from this crazy portal that affected me and I hope it's temporary. Don't transform or do anything unless they try to kill me because, as it is, I'll depend on your abilities. For sure this place is beyond strange."

"No doubt" agreed Gwydion. "I've never felt these things before and it was very unpleasant."

The men who approached wore rustic tunics, tied at the waist with a kind of sisal rope. In their hands, they carried forks or pieces of wood and, besides that, they were similar to any Caucasian peasant.

One of them, who seemed to be the leader, came closer, suspicious. He looked carefully at the wizard, and keeping his guard, spoke to his friends. When he opened his mouth, Igor was perplexed because he understood the language perfectly, despite the nuances that presented themselves, probably regional, but he concluded that he had gotten into a lot of trouble, since the Celtic language had been dead for almost two thousand years except for the Citadel, in the Crystal World.

"He's not a Roman," said the guy, turning to his companions and less worried, "the clothes are strange, but he looks like a druid warrior."

"Yeah, but it could be another one of the infamous tricks of the Romans to destroy us," said another, distrustful. "This guy fell from the sky and should be dead, not to mention that he doesn't have a staff!"

"Of course not," retorted another, who seemed more cultured than his companions. "The Romans don't have clothes that good, look at the quality of that cape!"

Igor quickly absorbed the initial shock and, with the observations obtained, drew his conclusions. As he was still weak and dizzy, he got up with all caution, not to stagger, and began to clean his clothes, hitting them with his hands. He smiled at the men who backed away a step and wielded their makeshift weapons, mostly forks or clubs.

"Come on, friends. Stop it," he began, speaking relaxed to calm them down. He smiled and continued. "These weapons can't face my sword, but I don't intend to harm you."

His way of acting must have had some effect because they lowered their guard and one even smiled. More confident, the young man continued:

"I just need to know where I am because I fell from my dragon when I was going to fight the Roman invaders—"

Igor did not expect any more aggressive reaction and was even stunned when he felt strong blows on his body that knocked him down and held him to the ground firmly having been caught in the most complete surprise when all the peasants threw themselves at him. He still had time to think how he would feel like a football player and found out that it was not pleasant.

"A warlock," shouted the whole group, throwing themselves at him who was not able to react. "Damn you."

The thing was so fast that the young wizard had no choice. In a few seconds some of them immobilized him without much gentleness, but without hurting him. Feeling his ribs pressed by firm knees, he was tied with all the refinement of the art, tried to argue:

"Hey, calm down, I don't—" He couldn't continue, because he was soon gagged.

Unable to resort to his powers, Igor chose to be quiet, thinking it more prudent. On the other hand, Gwydion chirped and took flight, preparing to transform and protect his friend, but Igor, using telepathy, asked him not to manifest himself except if imperative as an attack on his life.

Soon after being tied and gagged, he was thrown into a crude cart that was pulled by a pair of oxen. Trying to be practical, the young wizard began to think about Eduarda, attempting to understand what happened to the portal, since it was obvious that he had fallen into a very well designed and complex trap. To make matters worse, those Celtic people could not belong to another world or plane, especially since they mentioned the Romans.

If it was taken into account that the eastern Roman empire only existed until shortly after 1450, that the western Roman empire fell in the 5th century and the Celts were practically extinct by the Romans and the Church by the 3rd century, Igor concluded that he had been thrown into the past in some inexplicable way.

If that was true, the facts led to the logical conclusion that he was thrown right into the period of the war between the wizards, at that time called druids, and the wizards of evil, because his captors spoke of worlocks.

The worst of all was that he had no idea how to get out of there to be able to go back and rescue his bride. He calculated, by the temperature and clothes of them, that he should be near the end of winter or in the middle of spring in southern England, maybe Cornwall or then in France and maybe at the end of the 2nd or beginning of the 3rd century. The trip lasted about an hour, when they arrived at a village that was near the ocean. By the position of the Sun and by the fact that he saw from the top of a hill the sea presenting itself to his right and not being steep like Cornwall, he concluded that he should be somewhere in ancient Gaul, current France, moving south.

The cart stopped and they forced the wizard to get off, who felt the discomfort of having jolted from one side to the other for all that time. Although they had been rude, he was not mistreated by them, who took him to a simple hut where they tied his legs again.

"You will stay here under the responsibility of Ailin," said one of them, serious. "She is immune to your witchcraft, so don't try any tricks, not to mention that there will be guards outside ready to kill you at the slightest sign of danger. Your luck is that our chief ordered us to spare you if we captured... for now."

The man made Igor sit on a small wooden bench and laid the golden sword on a shelf at the far end of the hut, leaving soon after.

The young man felt his wrists and ankles numb due to the lack of blood circulation and that bothered him a lot. Despite being without his powers, he was the master of a considerable physical strength that he decided to use for his liberation, but all he managed to do was to find out that the Celts were true masters in the art of tying someone up. Resigned, he remained quiet, waiting. He took the opportunity to ask the dragon to do a reconnaissance of the region, but preferably flying at high altitude to avoid any problems.

He prepared himself for a long wait, but it didn't take long until someone appeared. The woman entered carefree, showing a lot of security and confidence. Igor turned his face to her, widened his eyes and did not contain a small moan when he saw her. The girl approached and observed him with all attention, in silence. Up close, Igor saw that she had very blue, penetrating eyes, and the well-groomed hair was a brilliant gold without equal. She was beautiful, much more than he could imagine if she didn't look like a double of the bride except for some details like the eyes, hair and some small nuances. She remained for a good two minutes observing, until she said, raising a sword and showing it to the young man:

"I am Ailin, the daughter of the chief," she wielded the weapon. "I liked you and I don't usually make mistakes in judgment; but, if you try a prank, I know how to use this sword much better than most of the men in this city, understood? Nod your head if you understood."

Igor obeyed and she smiled, kind.

"Great, I'll get some water and be right back," she warned, leaving soon after.

When she returned, she brought a clay pot that she placed on the table, looking back at Igor.

"I'll take off your gag," she said, still smiling, "but if you try a spell, I warn you that I'm immune to it and that you'll be killed before you finish speaking since you won't have deserved our consideration, understood?"

Igor nodded and Ailin released the gag. Igor smiled at her satisfied.

"Thank you," he said.

"Where did you come from?"

"From very far away, but I'm not an enemy—"

"Quiet," she interrupted, showing the sword again. " Who will decide if you are not an enemy is me."

"And that's how you show hospitality to travelers around here, Ailin?" he began, trying to appease. "I—"

"I already told you to shut up," she raised the weapon and brought it to his neck. Just in case, Igor shut up. "I wouldn't like to kill you, but I won't hesitate."

Igor sighed and just looked at her.

"Where is your dragon?" the girl continued.

"I don't have a dragon." Igor learned fast and knew that if he had a dragon he was a potential enemy. "You don't own a dragon, as far as I know."

"Then why did you tell the peasants that you fell from one?"

"It must have been because of the blow, I don't know," he shrugged and smiled. "I think I was stunned. After all I'm sure no one saw a dragon."

"Where is your staff?"

"I don't have a staff, just my sword," he said, pointing with his nose. "There are druids who don't need staves."

"I don't know how to evaluate you," the girl said, smiling much more calmly. "But I like you. Well, you will wait for our druid to return and give him better explanations, because he will extract the truth whether you want it or not."

She got up and put the sword on her waist.

"You will stay under my responsibility and I wouldn't like to have to kill you," she continued. "So, promise me that you will behave and I will release the ties. What is your name?"

"I promise, Ailin, I already told you that I'm not an enemy," the young man answered. "My name is Igor."

"Then prove it by behaving accordingly, Igor, okay?"

Igor just gave a courteous smile as an answer, but she accepted and cut the ropes. With a small grimace of pain, the young wizard tried to rub his wrists, which tingled. Ailin noticed and took his ankles, helping him.

"Thank you, Ailin," he said. "I stayed too long in the same position."

"Have some water," she ordered him, though speaking softly. "I'll get some food."

She got up and walked to the door, stopping there.

"Remember that you promised me, so don't leave here because you will be killed by the men and I would be very sad if that happened."

She didn't wait for an answer and left. Igor got up and walked a little. When he passed by his sword, he took it and fastened it to his waist. Then he went back to the table and sat down to drink some water, thinking non-stop about the trap he got into.

It was getting dark fast and, without thinking, he tried to create a globe of light, but he couldn't, getting frustrated.

Ailin came in with two wooden plates containing food for both. She placed them on the table and turned to him, angry.

"Who authorized you to take the sword?" she asked, pointing to his waist. "Take off the weapon and put it back in its place."

"The sword belongs to me, so I don't see why I shouldn't stay in the place it should be."

"Give the sword back to its place," she said, threatening, taking hers. "Or do you want me to kill you right now?"

"I didn't give you any reason for that, Ailin," he tried to be appeasing.

"I already told you once," she threatened him, pointing the blade to his chest and pressing a little. "You gave your word. Don't make me kill you."

Igor thought about resisting and was sure he could face her easily, but fighting with her would be like fighting with Eduarda and he didn't have the courage to do that. However, he was hurt. He took the sword from his waist and handed it to Ailin.

"For having given my word, you should have trusted me. A druid never breaks his promise, you should know that."

"So far, you haven't proven that you are a druid," the girl replied, taking the weapon and putting it back on the shelf. "If you prove it to me, I'll gladly return it. Come on, show me your powers."

"I can't," he said, discouraged, "I had an accident and lost my powers. I couldn't even make a globe of light. I just hope this is temporary."

"Calm down. Let's wait for my father to come back and he might be able to help you."

"After all, is your father the chief or the druid?" Igor asked. "And when does he return?"

"He's both," she answered proudly, sitting at the table and gesturing for Igor to sit too. "He should be back in two or three days. He's trying to gather some druids to create a front of defense against the Romans and the warlocks. Sit down and eat something."

At that moment, Gwydion flew in through the window and landed on the wizard's shoulder, who kindly gave him some pieces of meat. Ailin looked astonished at that exotic and beautiful animal. She was even more impressed when she saw him talking to the bird in another language, one she had never heard before. But the craziest thing was the voice that insinuated itself in her mind and that she understood very well:

"No, Igor, I did an extensive reconnaissance of the region and there doesn't seem to be any danger nearby. And tell that crazy girl there that I'm not her next meal because it sure looks like it, the way she looks at me."

"Did that bird talk?" she asked, frowning and making Igor melt, even against his will. "It's not possible that it's true, but I'm sure I heard him talking to you!"

"If you heard it, it's because you have priestess gifts," Igor replied, smiling. "So stop thinking of Gwydion as a meal, please. You heard what he said and I think you understood, right?"

Ailin said nothing. Silently, she got up and went to the small shelf. She took the golden sword and returned it to Igor, smiling.

"I'm sorry, you gave your word," she said, determined. "Here is your sword, Igor the druid."

"Thank you, Ailin, that means a lot to me."

As soon as they finished eating, she went to a corner, took off her tunic right in front of the young man's bulging eyes and put on another much lighter outfit. Then she lay down on a straw bed.

"Are you going to stand there?" the girl asked. "Come to sleep."

Igor tried to remember the habits of the Celts of that time and cursed himself for not paying more attention to history classes. Keeping as natural as possible, something difficult due to the frightening resemblance of the girl to the bride, he asked:

"And where am I going to sleep?"

"Here by my side, of course," she answered, tapping the hay and laughing. "Did you see another bed? I'm responsible for you, so you can't leave here. Come to sleep, I don't bite."

He had no choice but to obey and, very awkwardly, he took off his sword, his cloak and lay down beside her.

"Tomorrow I'll get you some clothes, since you don't have anything. And behave yourself, I sleep with the sword by my side."

"I already gave my word, Ailin."

"Good night, Igor."

Igor lay down for a long time and confused. He was somewhere in France in the second or third century, maybe the beginning of the two hundreds, lying on a hay bed next to a drop-dead gorgeous girl who looked more like his bride's twin sister and who aroused desires that would make him blush if his thoughts were discovered. Luckily, he had a much bigger problem to solve, which was to escape from there and return to his time.

He fell asleep without transition and only woke up at dawn with the girl shaking him.

As they ate a breakfast made of bread and a type of low-fermentation wine, Igor did a test with his powers. He opened his hand with the palm up and concentrated a little. A shower of lightning bolts jumped, like a cascade of energy that made an arc and came back losing itself in his fingers. Amazed, Ailin watched, widening her eyes, and he commented:

"I'm still very weak, but it's better than nothing," he smiled, because that made him happy, despite everything.

The girl invited him to go out with her a little and the wizard thought it would be a good idea to clear his mind, accompanying her.

They had barely walked twenty meters, when the pair was stopped by some men, one of them armed with a sword in his hand and a face like thunder.

"Are you crazy, Ailin?" he questioned, threatening. "I told you not to let him loose because he's dangerous and now you show up on the street with him carrying a sword!"

"I like him, Marlon," the girl insisted, "and he gave his word as a druid that he will do no harm."

"You're crazy, woman," the man shouted, raising his sword, very threatening. "Go back now—"

"I already told you I like him, Marlon, and I don't believe he's bad," she interrupted, sharply, also taking the sword. "Besides, I don't tolerate disrespect. Did you forget that I know how to use my weapon very well?"

"Shut up and go back—"

Ailin raised the sword and advanced on the compatriot, but Igor held her arm firmly, pulling her back.

"Listen, Mr. Marlon," he said, dryly. "To begin with, where I come from, a man doesn't treat women like that and then she already said that I gave my word that I would do no harm, but your lack of education and respect could be an exception to the rule."

"Shut up, warlock," he shouted, raising his sword.

Igor didn't need his powers to fence and he was an excellent swordsman. When the sword came in his direction, a rustic sword, made of iron and heavy, he reacted by pure instinct, unsheathing his weapon so fast that the others' eyes didn't follow. That sword was forged with metals unknown to humanity having an impressive lightness and an even greater hardness. Therefore, when he blocked the opponent's movement, he cut his sword in half as if it were butter. In the same movement, Igor made a quick spin and touched the tip of the blade to his chest.

"I think, Mr. Marlon, that you should calm down and apologize. I already said that I will do no harm—"

"Put that sword in the scabbard and give it back to me." Ailin had raised her saber, touching the wizard's neck. "I didn't ask you to protect me and you disobeyed."

Astonished, Igor looked at the girl and saw that she was very serious. Slowly, he lowered the weapon, but carefully not to be caught off guard by the other guy. He let go of the scabbard and raised it to hand it over when the man made a gesture to take it from him. Ailin turned the sword to Marlon and said, angrily:

"Touch the druid's sword and I myself will promote your meeting for a lecture with the Goddess. Get out of here." Humiliated, the warrior left and Igor handed over his sword, but his eyes expressed sadness, when he said:

"I didn't disobey or break my promise. I have the right to defend myself and others, but, if you want it that way, here you have it. Remember that it was he who attacked me."

He turned his back on her and she ordered:

"Go back inside."

"No, Ailin," he answered with a disgusted voice. "I won't go back to the hut. If you think I deserve to die for this, then go ahead. I need sun to recover."

Igor kept walking backwards from her in a very dangerous game for himself, because, if he had misjudged her character, he would be killed without any chance of defense since his powers were still too weak for a protective shield. He walked to a small stream and drank some fresh water. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the girl standing, still with the weapon in her hand, not knowing what to do. He sat down leaning against a tree and stayed still, looking at her. For a few seconds their eyes met and they stared at each other, until Ailin averted her eyes and, annoyed, stuck the sword in the ground, which looked like a mortuary cross, an unknown grave.

Igor didn't care about that, because he knew that it wouldn't be anyone who could take it, as it was proven minutes later when the guy named Marlon appeared and saw it there.

He stopped to look at that wonder of pure beauty, all golden and studded with precious stones, with a metal that looked like gold, but cut iron as if it were clay. Driven by greed, he put his hands on the hilt of the weapon and tried to lift it. The first thing he noticed was that the sword seemed welded to the earth and, the second, was a strange sensation in his hands, like a strong tingling. Annoyed, he applied more force to pull it out of the ground and it was then that he regretted all the wrong things he did because his body was traversed by something horrible, surely some demon that was loose and caused him strong and painful convulsions. Stuck to the sword, he fell to his knees and began to scream desperately, thinking that the evil spirit of the weapon would release him, but that didn't happen.

Seconds later, a friend ran to help him. He put his hand on his shoulder to release him from the sword and had the same fate starting to suffer the same sensations and screaming.

Igor remained in his place, smiling, very amused by the amount of people who approached and ended up trapped. Everything happened in less than five minutes and he knew that none of the peasants were at risk of dying. With the shouting and the most bizarre poses of the people trapped to each other, the children began to look and laugh, not daring to touch them, but dancing around until Ailin appeared and shooed them away. Very angry, she approached Igor.

"What did you do now, for the Goddess?" she asked him, so angry that her eyes seemed to emit sparks. "A druid who says he has a word and then behaves like that!"

"Me?" Igor remained passive, displaying his sweetest smile, shaking his head in a negative. "I did nothing, Ailin. I stayed here sitting all this time, trying to recover my energies and watching this bunch of greedy lunatics grabbing an object that belongs to a druid."

"Do something—"

"Me, do something!" Igor laughed. "For what, to be accused of breaking a promise?"

"For the Goddess," she shouted, furious. "Okay, I was wrong. I'm sorry, but do something for them that they will die."

"No one dies from a static electricity discharge, at least with this intensity." Igor laughed and got up. "I know you don't know what that is, but it's still funny. Very well—"

Igor raised his left hand and a ball of some form of energy appeared. It was very light blue, almost as if he had taken a piece of the sky, and threw it at the people. The ball expanded, passing through the poor creatures and, when it reached the sword, it caused an intense resounding, sounding like thunder. At that moment all the villagers were thrown away, falling into a wide circle around the weapon.

Soon after, it began to shine strongly and disappeared from there as if it had never existed.

"Better now?" he asked, displaying his most captivating smile. Ailin left angry, but gave him a different look. Igor sat back, thinking. "What a girl. So beautiful and so similar to Eduarda!"

The day went by peacefully and the wizard remained in his corner, thoughtful and waiting for Gwydion's return. He was so distracted that he didn't realize he had company until Ailin spoke:

"Aren't you hungry?"

He looked up, seeing her face against the light and smiled kindly, answering:

"Actually I am, but you were so angry that I thought it better to stay here."

"Come and eat something," she ordered, but ended up smiling a little. "After all I'm still responsible for you."

"Well," Igor said, getting up, "I couldn't imagine a better or more beautiful responsible."

"Let's go." She turned back to the hut and her face tried to hide a radiant smile that Igor saw out of the corner of his eye.

In the afternoon, since they left him alone, the wizard went for a walk and climbed the stream, finding a pond about five hundred meters from the village and already inside the woods. Happy, he took off his clothes and dove into the water, which was very cold. He swam with a lot of vigor for some time until he saw Ailin on the shore, also entering the water. The girl approached him and smiled.

"This is my favorite place to bathe," she said, trying to be nice. "I see you found it."

"It's a very good place," he replied, nervous with her presence. Naked like that she looked even more like Eduarda and that left him disoriented and full of desire.

"What material is your sword made of?" she asked, trying to find some subject. "I've never seen a weapon so light and so strong."

"It doesn't belong to this world, Ailin," he replied, getting out of the water and sitting on a stone to dry. "It's a special alloy."

"But why wasn't I affected by the magic of the sword?" she asked, amazed by such power. "I thought there was no one more powerful than my father, but it seems I was wrong."

"Pure-hearted people are not affected by it because I determined it, Ailin. The same happened to my captors," he answered, trying not to notice her nudity and failing miserably. She realized and said, amused:

"You're embarrassed," she laughed, unintentionally. "Aren't you used to seeing a woman?"

"Sorry, just different customs." Already dry, he got up and made a tunic similar to the villagers'.

She laughed again and said:

"Well, now I won't have to get clothes for you anymore."

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