Visions of the Future Past

Looking up, Fortu sees a woman’s face, eyes full of tears, as she somehow passes him to a rough looking, bearded man along with a silk coin-purse and a smallish silver box.

They hurriedly exchange words but baby Fortu can’t comprehend what they’re saying or even the language being spoken. Fortu tries to reach back for her, he tries to speak but his body is tiny, his limbs are weak and his voice a pathetic, incomprehensible wail. 

Struggling to understand what’s happening but instinctively recognising a familial connection, Fortu questions himself…

Who is this woman? Could this wild-eyed gypsy be his actual Mother?

As if reading his mind, the dark-haired woman strokes his blemish free face, plants a gentle kiss on his forehead and whispers…

“Don’t worry Little one. I promise we shall meet again, for I have seen it in your future.”

… ‘Little one’? 

Had he never had a real name? Had he always been just a number?!

Waking with a start, Fortu balls up his fists and flexes his sword-strengthened forearms to reassure himself that he’s back in his adult body. Gazing around Estrid’s magical glade, he quickly regains his bearings, it’s still nighttime and Liga Bur is yet to return with the gruff Druid; Thornberg.