Do I know you?

His feet hit the ground with a thud and a groan, protests from his knees a reminder as to why he rarely ever threw a leg over a horse. Typically, he found himself hitching a ride on a wagon or using one of the several portals set up in Namarast, but… every now and then, he preferred to slip away without the Order knowing, and the only way to do that was to walk or take a horse…

“Next time, I walk.” He muttered under his breath, reaching out a gloved hand to pat the horse’s neck before leading it, rather slowly, down the road.

Despite having been alive for literally centuries, his age was still something that he would never pretend to understand. He didn’t look old. Well, apart from his greying hair and worn skin, he could certainly pass for someone… experienced, but not falling apart. He didn’t necessarily feel how he thought he would either. Sure, his joints ached and his body was slow and his skin would never hold that youthful glow again, but at least he was still moving.

At least he could still get up on the horse, literally and figuratively.

He often wondered if he would continue to deteriorate or if he was stuck in this stasis until Fortune decided she’d had her fun and let him crumble. Or, perhaps, corruption would be the death of him first. Or maybe he would simply never die, forced to change with the world around him when all he wanted was to be back in his sleepy little town, living his ordinary life with his simple family…

And that was where he had to stop himself, turning his thoughts to his pockets before his mind truly spiraled. His fingers shook as he pulled out a cigarette, holding it between his teeth as he paused only to loop his horse’s reins on a low hanging branch before striking a match.

But before he could even bring the flame to the tip of his smoke, his attention was tugged towards a sound. Wheels bumping along the road… dogs barking… the sound of something whistling through the air... and then a shout.

Brow furrowing, he considered his cigarette for a moment, letting the flame dance too close to his fingertips before he shook it out, resigning to the fact that he would simply never be able to relax again. Not even in the middle of fucking nowhere.

Returning the neglected cigarette to his pocket, Kerelas offered one glance in the direction of his horse before he pushed himself off of the tree he leaned on and made his way towards the commotion. He ducked through the trees, pausing with his back against one as a small pack of dogs rushed past him. His gaze followed them for a moment before turning back in the direction they had come, his brow furrowing at the sight of one man laying in the dirt… and a little further… a wagon coming to stop.

Witchfinders, he could only assume, from the sight of their cloaks and their weapons. He leaned out a little further from the tree to watch as the drivers hopped down from their wooden seat, shouting at each other about prisoners.

Witchfinders, indeed.

He stepped out from behind his tree, striding up to the wagon with a large, sweeping gait as he casually plucked his gloves from his fingers and stuffed them in his pocket. He passed over the man that laid injured in the dirt, a groan on his lips as he reached for him-

-only for Kerelas to roll his eyes and snap his fingers, the man falling unconscious at his magic’s grasp. Pathetic.

He glanced up at the sound of weapons clattering, bolts loading into crossbows, and aimed at… him.

Kerelas stopped, a sigh on his lips as he bridged his fingers and considered them, shaking in their boots. Ah, yes, he could see how bad that had looked. Killing their injured friend in the middle of the road with a simple snap of his fingers. Never mind that the lad wasn’t dead and would actually wake up feeling much more revived, but…

“Gentlemen, I-” He raised a hand, his fingers curling as the witchfinders suddenly froze. Their eyelids twitched, their weapons dropping from their grasps as they simply… relaxed under his hold.

He strode forward.

“I really don’t have the time to deal with this right now,” He continued, his tone tired, gentle… disappointed that they had put a hitch in his pleasant day. “Nor the patience, for people like you.”

He paused as he stood before them, his boots clacking together and coat hugging his legs. One of the men tried to speak to him, muffled grunts through lips that refused to form words. There was a hint of a smile that found Kerelas’ lips at the terror in their limp gazes.

Still so… pathetic.

“There’s nothing to fear.” Kerelas assured them both before his magic took hold and they fell, limp at his feet, lost a dreamless sleep.

Another sigh, and he turned, pulling his glasses from his face and wiping them with the hem of his shirt. His face twisted at the blurriness, eyes squinted, but his glasses soon found their place again as he rounded the corner to the back of the wagon. One door was already hanging open, which he assumed had been the downfall of the poor man laying in the middle of the road.

His hand rested on the splintered wood as he pulled it open fully, pausing at the sight of two prisoners, tied and bound, but laying in a way that proved that they had gotten into some sort of trouble.

“Are you-” His words caught in his throat as his gaze came to a stop on the one who had managed to pull down her gag. The source of the whistling and the shouting, no doubt. But that was not what made him freeze, but instead the stars that laid so perfectly on her skin, peeking out between torn sleeves.

No, he was truly going insane now. But still, his voice managed a single word, strangled and hoarse, just in case...

“Andromeda?”