CHAPTER 109: A WRINKLE IN TIME

The trip to Osraige could not have been more awkward, especially between a certain two out of this five man band.

They had two horses carrying a wagon that fit three. Hermes and Apple were supposed to be the ones riding the horses, naturally, since they were stable boys and they were the ones most familiar with it.

Hermes had managed to convince Sorcha to let him borrow the two most unruly and unusable horses for a few days. That included Meirleach, the dark troublemaker, and Liath Mór, the oldest horse in the stable, a white stallion.

On Meirleach’s back was Hermes, but on Liath Mór...

Was none other than the Ridire Na Mara himself, who was VERY insistent to ride by Hermes’ side.

As they trotted in the wide roads leaving Ailech, the three people in the wagon can notice the tension. It was thicker than Somner’s shamelessness.

"How many times has the blond one stolen a glance?" Somner whispered conspicuously to Aphrodite in modern English.

"18 times now." He replied.

Somner then turned to Apple. "And the brunette?"

"25 times."

Somner whistled. "Ding, ding ding! Looks like the brunette is the winner for this ’How Many Awkward Stolen Glances Can You Give in One Hour’ contest!"

There was then a cough from the horse on the left.

"I can hear you guys, you know?"

The ’blond’ turned to the ’brunette’ when he heard him speaking in tongues.

"What’re ye after sayin’ there?"

"Nothin’." Hermes replied back in the language of this era.

Glasán pursed his lips.

"I heard the same upon my ear. What tongue is it, then? Not the Gaelic, nor the Norsemen’s harsh speech. ’Tis closer to the Saxons east o’ here, sure enough."

The four time-travellers went quiet, busted.

"Ah now, ’tis but a secret speech we four have made betwixt ourselves." Somner was quick to come up with an excuse, being the charismatic one.

"Mm." Apple grunted in approval.

"’Tis a handy thing, when ye scarce know who might be listenin’ in on your... sly talk." Aphrodite added.

"Och, is it so? Teach it to me then, would ye? I’d be glad to share in these sly words of yours." Glasán said, intrigued.

Hermes sighed in exasperation.

"Glasán... we’ll give ye a bit of it anon. But keep your eyes to the road now. There may be thieves or rascals hidin’ in the hedges."

They continued on and eventually stopped by a small town. There was an inn called ’Úllóir’, which Hermes found odd because ’Úll’ means ’apple’ while ’óir’ means gold, but in modern Irish Gaelic. So that means this store’s name was...

"God save ye, lads at the door! Welcome ye are to the Úllóir! Seekin’ a room or maybe more? Step inside, lest a wild boar tear ye sore!"

Hermes, Apple, Aphrodite, and Somner all had the same look of disbelief on their face at this poetic innkeeper.

Yes, this inn was literally named ’Apple of Gold’ or ’Golden Apple’. Because standing at the front desk with a giddy smile was no other Dante Quasar!

Glasán turned to the others. "Saints keep us, ye look as though ye’ve clapped eyes on a ghost. Is it ye know this man?"

"Uh, no!" Somner shook his head.

"Never in this life." Apple said.

"We’re just afeared by the rhyming, is all." Aphrodite reasoned.

Hermes approached the old man with unmasked frustration. He leaned close so only he could hear and talked in modern English so Glasán wouldn’t understand.

"What are you doing here, Sir? Have you been following us? I thought you were busy time hopping to see how the future has changed!"

Dante just gave a boisterous laugh. "Dear boy, do you forget who you’re talking to? I have Multitudes! The Dante you met wasn’t the same as me— I’m Dáire Cuar, owner of the Úllóir!"

Hermes’ thought this man couldn’t be more eccentric than he was, but he just kept on breaking his own record for eccentricity.

"Well then, Sir Cuar... What are you doing here?" Hermes asked. "Did you find anything about why Muirenn turned into a merrow in the future?"

"No, but...." He smiled. "I have a feeling that you needed me for something else."

Hermes frowned. "Something else?"

Dante— Or ’Dáire’ as he wanted to be called in this era— gestured to Glasán who remained oblivious to this whole situation.

From the corner of his eye, Hermes caught Glasán watching the two of them. The knight tilted his head, lips pressed thin. He couldn’t understand a word, but his gaze was that of someone sensing something was off but choosing not to speak.

After all, his travels and his experience fighting all across his mother land, he must have had experienced needing to keep his mouth shut when eavesdropping in ’sly talk’ between powerful authority figures.

Dante chuckled. "You got yourself in a little Irish romance... But you do know you have to go, and return this body to the real Heimon, right? And that you have to return to your real time... Your real self."

Hermes did not like that term. ’Real’.

"Are you implying that our love isn’t real, just because I played the role of someone else? Just because I wasn’t here, that I never should have existed at this time?"

A shadow was suddenly cast on the old man’s usually jolly features. His smile lines and wrinkles relaxed, and then...

Lines on his forehead appear, along with some below his lips dragging downwards as he frowned.

Wrinkles often tell you how often a person felt a certain emotion throughout their lives. Someone who was always happy may have creases on the side of their nose down to their lips— what we call smile lines. Same with crows feet, which were lines on the side of the eyes.

But someone who was always sad or angry may have wrinkles on their forehead, or from the side of the lips going down to the jaw.

Hermes came to realize that this old man has both. He had seen a life full of happiness... but also sorrow.

"That is not what I’m implying at all, my dear boy."

He tried to smile again, but even when he did, his ’frown lines’ were still the ones visible on his aged face.

"Love is real across time and space. But take it from a man who had travelled time more times than time itself.... Love across time means love that will be cut short. So say your goodbyes while you can... It’s much more painful when you can’t."

Hermes could tell he was speaking from experience.

But why...

Why does that look in his eyes tell something more, as if saying these things to Hermes was the cause of his pain?