Warrior

Horses neighed and the heat of the wind seemed to evaporate every drop of sweat on her body. The land was a rick, bright gold. There were no trees for miles, but she drifted on the wind after a group of black-clad riders further across the hot, dry land.
Where was she? She’d never seen a landscape like this. It was a bit like standing on the beach. The dirt moved through her hands like sand, but there was no water for as far as she could see and the color was wrong.
It looked like dry earth.
“Further on! Quickly! Arawn will kill the beast!”
Arawn? She thought, curious and a bit excited about what she was going to say.
She wasn’t sure what she would see, but this had to be some sort of memory or something like it. She could be in a dream, but that didn’t feel right.
They came over the summit of a large, dry hill. The air tasted salty as if she was standing by a dry sea bank.
Below a large creature twisted and snarled around a much smaller figure that she recognized. It had four large wings and its entire body was covered in scales that gleamed in the sunlight.
It was Arawn. He had one hand on his sword as he turned and kept his gaze locked with the creature. He wasn’t dressed in the polished fine clothing she was used to seeing him in. In place of a pressed white tunic, he was wearing leather armor without a shirt on. His hair was much shorter, kept out of his eyes by a circle of metal on his brow that seemed to shield his eyes from the sun a little.
In place of pants, he was wearing a short tunic underneath his armor and sandals strapped to his feet. Gold decorated his armor and his belt. He was smeared with dust the same color as the ground around them.
Curious, she drifted closer to see what he was doing.
The creature came to a stop, coiled in a half-circle around Arawn.
“There, there,” Arawn said reaching a hand out to the creature. “I have no wish to fight you. I only came to talk.”
His tone and the odd gentleness towards the creature reminded her a bit of how Druid calmed the fire-breathing bear in the woods. What had made him change so much? She couldn’t imagine him doing something like this now.
This Arawn was nothing like the Arawn she knew. Though he looked no younger physically, his expression was more open. His eyes were brighter and happier. He smiled, a genuine smile, up at the fanged creature as it lowered its head and pressed its snout against his palm.
“See, I’m not so bad, hm? I think we could be great friends if you wanted.”
“I have never befriended anything as small as you,” the creature said. Sirona froze in place listening to the rumble of its voice. “Small things are eatable.”
Arawn laughed, “Not this small thing.”
He pointed back the way Sirona had come, “The city over there is terrified. You think you could avoid freaking them out?”
“I have moved across these lands for longer than that little forest of stone has been in existence.”
Arawn chuckled, “I know the feeling. Maybe you should take a vacation, hm? I know a nice place.”
What did that mean? How could he know the feeling of some ancient creature’s annoyance with a city of humans?
It was so strange to see him so carefree. He and the creature vanished in a swirl of hot, salty wind and she was suddenly floating over a great city where a large procession was being held. Arawn was seated on a large, near monstrous, horse with a gleaming black coat at the front of the processed, waving to the crowd happily. People were chanting and screaming for him.
“Blessed by Arawn’s grace!”
“Praise be given to the hero of our city!”
Arawn got to the palace steps, but in the shadow of the doors, his expression turned troubled. Sirona followed him into the building to a room of old men who seemed to be in the middle of an argument. Arawn argued with them though Sirona couldn’t make out what was being said. Arawn shook his head and slammed his hands down on the table. The room seemed spooked by his words, but they didn’t seem to be listening to what he had to say. They gestured vaguely as Arawn continued to yell at them.
Some guards came to try and take him away, but he turned sharply, throwing out a wall of magic before turning. The happiness and youth seemed gone as he stormed past her. She followed, but the vision shifted and swirled again. The great city was on fire now. Smoke fluttered up into the sky as masked raiders stormed the city. Arawn was near the front gates, cutting through intruders when an arrow cut through his chest.
She gasped as he looked down in disbelief and turned, pulling the arrow out and looking for the person.
Sirona turned to try and find the person, but she couldn’t see. Arawn’s gaze turned hard. His jaw clenched and his eyes filled with light.
A screeching roar filled the air. Shaking the buildings’ foundation and crumbling them. Bright burning fire gushed into the sky around Arawn casting his face in darkness so all Sirona could see was the glow of his eyes.
The fire shifted and took the shape of the fanged creature and spread its wings before swooping through the city, incinerating every person it caught and every building until the city was reduced to ashes around him.
The light faded from his eyes. The fiery beast vanished and Arawn’s eyes turned up the smoke filling the sky.
Tears streamed down his face and he vanished.
“Sirona?”
Her eyes burned with grief as she looked around at the desolation.
“Sirona!”
She gasped, pulled out of the vision by Arawn who looked down at her with eyes full of concern. The tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to speak, but couldn’t find the words.
Arawn was startled by the odd sense of knowing in her eyes and the tears. She’d had a vision, but he couldn’t imagine what she’d seen.
“What did you see?”
Her jaw trembled and she pulled away from him, staring at him with wide eyes. There was no fear, but there was so much haunted confusion that Arawn felt his heart racing with anxiety.
“What did you see, Sirona?”
“… What happened to the creature?”
He frowned, “The creature?”
“Fanged… Said that small creatures were usually eatable.”
Arawn froze, staring at her. She’d seen the dragon, Taran. That conversation had been so long ago that he had nearly forgotten it had happened. It had been a long time since he’d taken Taran up to the divine highlands above the continent, his sanctuary of sorts.
“Why do you ask?”
“Where is it?” She asked, “Did you… Did you kill it too?”
He snorted, “That old beast will outlive even the dust of the mountains, let alone me… But I will take you to meet him if you want.”
Her eyes drifted over his body.
“The storm has been brewing for quite some time, older than I first imagined, if it allowed you to bend time enough to see my meeting with Taran.”
“H-How long ago was that?” She asked. “Where was that?”
Arawn smirked, “Several centuries ago.”
She gasped.
“As for your second question, it was near the base of the southern continent before I turned it into lush, dense forests.”
Sirona stared at him almost not believing him. Several centuries? Was that two hundred years? Five hundred years? How could he look no older now than he had then? How old was he really? She was afraid to ask.
Was this the power of being a mage turned into a deity? Would she one day grow to be several centuries old and still look the way she did now?
How old is Druid?
He didn’t look much older than they were, but he had his own sort of mysticism. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was several centuries old as well.
What about loved ones?
How long had it been since Arawn’s family had been alive? Did he miss them?
“Ask what you want to know,” Arawn said gently. “I can see that it’s quite a shock.”
“What about your family?”
Arawn smiled and offered her his arm, “Well, that is a complicated thing to explain. Shall we walk and talk?”
She took his arm and he sighed, “I once had… a companion of a sort. The closest thing I’ve ever had to a family. We grew apart and we stopped speaking. That was centuries ago.”
“You’ve been… truly alone all this time.”
“Well, except for Taran.” He looked down at her, “And now, you.”