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“Stay the night… please.” Amelia clung to Edgar.
“No, your husband can’t discover our affair. I’ll be killed!” Edgar scrambled for his clothes. Large torches illuminated the stone walls - mitigating the chill from the autumn night. Amelia laid out on the large mahogany bed, which was engraved with her husband’s family crest - the lion. The sigil has been the mark of the Edwards family for centuries. It all started with Amelia’s great-great grandfather, Henry Edwards, who was rumored to have killed a lion with his bare hands. She stretched and yawned, nuzzling with the fur covers.
“Henry won’t be back until next week, why are you worried?” Amelia looked frustrated.
Edgar looked Amelia in her deep brown eyes. “I can’t take the chance, he might come home early. A merchant’s life is unpredictable.” He took a seat on the bed and leaned over towards Amelia, caressing her soft face with his rough hands. Edgar gave her one last kiss and left the room without saying a word. He scurried down the spiral stone steps as the cold wind started to pierce his chest. When he got outside, the lanterns lit the dark roads, his horse was waiting for him patiently. As he walked toward his ride, he couldn’t help but reflect on the warmness Amelia made him feel. Before meeting her, Edgar would often mope and live his days sorrowfully. His profession of stable cleaning was depressing and soul sucking. He
knew he could do well as a trader in the New World. It’s just that he could never get himself to take that huge leap.
That was before he met Amelia. Now, Edgar felt truly enlightened, he’d never felt this way about any woman before in his four hundred years on this earth. Yes, Edgar had a dark secret - he was immortal, as of so far at least. His secret to his elixir of life? - Edgar had not the faintest clue himself. He mounted his black stallion and rode off into the night, towards his humble abode.
Edgar was born a normal baby, to a mother and father of ten children. He was the youngest of his packed household. It made him a humble child - he didn’t expect much from the world and he didn’t think the world expected much of him either. Edgar’s parents raised him and his siblings on a wheat farm in Southern England. The Williams house was no more than a shack, built with cracked bricks and worn shingles. As the youngest, he would often get picked on by his siblings. Once, his older brother Harry stole Edgar’s dinner, tired from a long days work, he had no other chose but to fight him for it. Of course, as per usual, their parents took the older siblings side, seeing Harry as more capable and deserving. This was a common occurrence for Edgar, often nights he’d go without a meal, starving and crying himself to sleep.
He looked to the farm animals to console him. The barn was filled with a variety of animals- cows, goats, sheep, pigs, horses. Edgar even had names for his animal companions, Harry the cow, Peter the pig, coincidentally, their names matched his siblings, perhaps as a
revenge act. His most favorite animal however, was Spade the black horse. When Edgar looked into his eyes, he felt Spade evoking empathy towards him. He would frequently visit Spade, especially in traumatizing situations.
Edgar would be greeted by his horse everyday enthusiastically, they would spend the whole day riding through the green fields. They both loved the cool breeze flowing through their hair, and the exhilarating rush they would get from riding fast. The forest surrounding the open fields emitted a dark and suspicious aura, so both were careful to never venture to close to it. Edgar could swear he heard screams from the trees at night, like souls were being stripped from people’s bodies. One day, while riding with Spade, a light drizzle sprinkled the pair, it quickly turned to a downfall however. Edgar rode home as fast as he could. He was opening the stables to put Spade away, and at the same time the sky let out a thunderous roar. Many of the horses were spooked and took off running. Their tails were tucked between their legs as they ran off, far beyond Edgar’s reach.
“Come back!” Edgar pleaded as he ran after the horses desperately. The horses didn’t stop. He broke down crying, he knew what was coming next. He had to tell his parents of what he had done.
CRACK. CRACK. The strands of wood separated as Edgar’s father beat him with a rod. Each swing made a sickening thumping sound against his weak adolescent body.
“Please… Stop!” He cried “It was an accident!” His father continued striking him. His grip was relentless, his nail’s dug into his skin. SWOOSH. A missed swing allowed Edgar to break free of his father’s grasp. He ran out into the rainy night, bloodied and bruised. Spade was waiting for him, hearing his cries. Edgar jumped onto his horse and fled
from his home. He rode off, with the heavy rain concealing the tears streaming down his face. In a frenzy without think, Edgar did what he never dared to do before, he went into the forest. The gnarled trees resembled monsters, while the branches seemed like arms, reach out to grab him. He couldn’t take the frights of the forest. Edgar closed his eyes and laid his head on Spade’s main. The rhythmic galloping of his horse made him drift of into a slumber, while gripped onto the reigns.
Spade rode for hours without break, the ominous skies fluttered with light, as if lightning were to strike. Then. BOOM. A bolt of lightning struck the pair as they were riding. They crippled to the ground, the momentum of their ride, flung them several meters across the dirt and caused them to crash into a tree. Electricity crackled throughout their bodies as they lay there, helpless - Edgar blacked out.
He awoke to his horse’s neighs. Spade looked spooked, however it seemed he was in well condition, no broken bones, with a healthy shape. Edgar inspected himself for injuries, his bruises were gone. Puzzled, he checked his knees for scraps, again, none.
“What’s going on?” Edgar said to his horse. NEIGH.
He looked around, unable to recognize where he was. Oak trees surrounded him like walls, the trees no longer looked intimidating and gnarled. Something is off. He could hear the flow of water from a nearby river. The water was as clear as ice, fish scurried along the bedrock, something he’d never seen before. Edgar followed the the river to a nearby town.
As he reached the town Edgar picked up a news letter off the ground.
23rd, MAY, 1675. He was confused by the paper, there was no way it was 1675, it was off by 300 years!
“What happened to me…” Edgar said to himself. Can it be true. Was he really 300 years in the future? A rush of emotions overwhelmed Edgar. Anger, glee, melancholy, FEAR. Edgar took a seat on the street side, trying to contemplate what was happening. It couldn’t be true. There’s no way, it must be some sort of sick joke. Edgar rocked back and forth, questioning his reality.
“What are you doing all alone, boy?” A portly, dapper man approached Edgar and his horse.
“What year is it?” Edgar asked bluntly, with no manners.
“Well you have the paper right next to you, can you not read? It’s 1675!” The man looked patient as he clearly saw that Edgar was in distress.
“I’m James Haverford, do you need any help, you look scared.”
“I need a home.” Edgar replied quietly.
The stranger took Edgar into his home as his son, he never had a wife or children so Edgar was able to fill that void for him. James was a rich man, he owned a sprawling He taught Edgar how to dress and carry himself as a man. Edgar spent his days working as an apprentice for James, who was a merchant. James would trade with beaver hunters in the New World, beaver pelts were in high demand in England. Each pelt would net him twenty pounds, the money was lucrative and he was ready to pass his knowledge and expertise on to Edgar. Things like beaver supply, which was high during the summer months, and who to sell the pelts to was some of the vital information granted to Edgar.
They eventually opened a fur store, selling goods such as hats, coats, and covers. Unfortunately, the business failed after an initial boom in business, as the people of the town ran out of a need for beaver products. Days turned to months and months turned to years. Twenty years had passed and the Haverford's days were coming to an end. Edgar, however, looked no more than twenty five years old.
James cherished Edgar as his son. On his deathbed, the man gave him one last gift - a pocket watch.
“Use your time well.” Haverford says as he takes his last breath. The air seemed to vacuum out of his limp body as the light disappeared from his eyes. Edgar closes his eyes as James laid there, lifeless. He wrapped the corpse in blankets carefully and with respect, out of homage to his mentor. Edgar had prepared a casket for his now deceased friend. He was the only one to attend the funeral.
Edgar woke at the crack of dawn, he couldn’t wait to see Amelia. He greeted Spade, who was gleeful as always.
“Have some apples, friend.” Edgar said as he fed his horse.
Edgar thought about his early years as he rode to Amelia. He thought about what he was told by James many years ago. “Use your time well.” He decided that it was now or never. Edgar had to make a move on Amelia, it’s his true love.
“I can’t stand her husband taking advantage of her. I know he beats her.” Edgar thought to himself. After Spade was done eating they rode off together to Amelia’s home. The town was buzzing, something was different. All the people were out, getting ready to visit the merchant who just came back from Asia.
“He’s back.” Edgar muttered to himself.
When he arrived to Amelia’s home he saw what he predicted the night before, her husband was home. Henry was the result of many generations of inbreeding. He had a short and stout stature with sever overbite. His temperament was likewise to a rabid dog. Edgar watched Henry embrace and kiss Amelia, he fumed. He rode off, heart broken and spiteful.
Edgar waited till the night and called for Amelia. He threw several rocks at her window to get her attention. Luckily he didn’t wake Henry. Amelia ran down to Edgar with just the clothes on her back.
“Run away with me!” He said as he kissed her. She nodded. They got on the horse and rode away as fast as they could. As they eloped, they could hear alarm bells ringing behind them. It didn’t take long for Henry’s guard to catch up.
They could hear the gallops of men on horses pursuing them.
“Faster! They’re catching up!” Amelia cried. The men crept closer with every stride. BOOM. They shot Spade. Amelia and Edgar tumbled on the ground. The men grabbed Edgar and restrained him.
“You’re dead, boy.” Henry said as he caught up. He put a gun to Edgar’s head and c***ed the gun. As he pulled the trigger the hammer came down and ignited the bullet primer. The bullet cleanly pierced his skull, violently whipping his head back as he crippled to the ground.
“NOO!!” Amelia screamed with despair. Henry forcefully grabbed Amelia and pulled her away. She struggled throwing herself at Edgar.
“Please wake up, wake up!” Amelia kicked and scratched at Henry, however her resistance was futile. She could fight back anymore, all is lost.
“Oh you’re in for it now, you disgrace!” Henry spat in Amelia’s face. He threw her on his horse and left for home. As they rode back to Henry’s home, Amelia had been cleared of any emotion. She had a deadpan face and sat limply on the horse. She was dead inside.
“Where am I?” Edgar awoke to the smell of earth and rot. He could see nothing but could feel the cold dirt cover him. He start moving, digging, eventually reaching the surface for a gasp of fresh air. Edgar looks around and sees rows and rows of gravestones. A man in a bright orange uniform runs up to him.
“Sir are you OK?” The strange man asks.
“Where’s my horse?” Edgar replies.
He took a look around and realized what happened. He was put to sleep again. Edgar looked up at the bewildered man in the orange suit.
“ What year is it?”
“2015, do you need help, why were you in the dirt, how did you get out?” The man had a million questions.
Edgar stood up and left the man starstruck. He knew what he had to do, find Spade, no matter how long it would take him. The graveyard was beautiful in a way, thousands of headstones assembled in perfect rows. It was like all the souls were there, together in the after life. It made Edgar feel envious, he lost his one true love. Doomed to an eternal life with no way out.
“What did I do to deserve this!” Edgar fell to his knees and screamed to the skies. He stared at the heavens and contemplated his life and all the people he has lost. Is it even worth it for him to start over? Only for it to just be taken away from him again? Tears streamed down his eyes as feelings of despair and agony overtook him.
“F*** YOU! JUST END MY SUFFERING.” He cursed at God, if there even was one. Edgar couldn’t take the games God was playing. At this point, he despised God.
And just like that the skies responded. The dark clouds were split by a bright light. A man descended from the skies. It was God.
It wasn’t what Edgar expected. He had purple skin, with large, orange eyes.
“You curse my gifts?” God’s voice boomed. The strange man with the orange outfit passed out.
“What gift? It has just been torture for me. Take it back!”
“Very well, however before I revoke your ability I want you to know my intent. I was hoping you would have ascended to Godhood and joined me in the heavens. I have been watch you since you were a boy and appreciated your struggles. It is a shame that you squandered your opportunity.”
Tears streamed out of Edgar’s eyes slowly as he realized what he was giving up.
“Carry on.” He said spitefully.
“Very well. I hope you will find your true calling in the next life, Goodnight.”