The man gave his wife a concerned, questioning glance. She simply gestured for him to leave the room. The knocking returned a moment. Four simple knocks. The man turned from the room and headed for the door rather quickly, muttering under his breath. It was a lot to take in, both his wife's explanation and the officer now knocking at their door.
The woman watched him leave the room, and instantly she began panicking, muttering, and moving things around the room. He would've found her eventually, but she wasn't ready. She thought she still had years. She hadn't been the Traveler in nearly six or seven years. Why was he still after her?
The woman grabbed a sweater that hung halfway out of a box of random clothing items and threw it at the chair near the door. She began rummaging through other boxes, looking for something, anything. Bad memories tried to shift her focus. Lost memories, not being able to save those she cared about, the dagger. He likely had it with him. After all, it was his favorite thing to taunt her with back then. He likely kept it with him all the time, should he have ever found her again.
Her hand wrapped around the handle of a kitchen knife that had somehow not made it downstairs with the rest. Perfect. The woman carried it out the door with her, grabbing the sweater and wrapping it around her as she neared the stairs.
She heard the voices downstairs, but they were blocked out by memories that had decided to take up her mind. Always on the run from him. This officer had picked a fight with her years ago, the reasons still unclear to her. He had a normal life, he was a good man.
Slow steps, one by one, down the stairs. The knife was now flat against her chest, hidden by the sweater, the woman crossing her arms. Slowly descending the stairs and heading towards the door, she took a quick deep breath.
"Hey, honey, what's going on?" the woman interrupted the conversation between the two men, giving the officer a soft smile. He hadn't changed much. Looked nearly the same as he had years ago, reddish-brown hair under his police cap, a matching short beard and mustache. The same blue uniform he always wore. The only change was he looked more worn and slightly older. Her eyes spotted the sheath the dagger was kept in, and sure enough, a hilt rose just above it. She was right, he brought it.
"This is Officer Johnson. He thinks we know something about a Traveler," the man responded, raising an eyebrow as he glanced at his wife. Was she suddenly cold?
"The Traveler, actually. Like, the original," the officer glanced at the woman who had entered. If it was who he thought it was, she really hadn't aged a day. She looked the same as the last time he saw her. Probably why it had been so easy to eventually find her once she settled down.
"I'm sorry, the- that name doesn't sound familiar," the woman kept her eyes on the officer.
"Well, you see, she was involved in quite a few, incidents, if you will," the officer let himself into the house and off the porch, the glass door closing behind him. The light slam of it caught the woman off guard, and she flinched. She kept her kind smile, but her eyes were now wide with worry.
"If I see or hear anything about her, I'll be sure to let you know."
"I don't think you understand the threat she poses. You see, she went missing about seven years ago."
"So why keep hunting her down if she's gone?" the woman leaned against the wall, adjusting her arm so one hand now wrapped around the knife handle.
"I have reason to believe she's not gone. That she's simply blending in with the general population."
"We told you, we don't know of her or where she is," the man chimed in, moving between the officer and his wife. The officer now had a hand gently wrapped around the dagger on his belt.
"Very well. Please, enjoy the rest of your night," the officer turned towards the door after tipping his cap politely at the couple.
The woman began to sigh with relief, but the officer turned to face them again. She grasped the knife, tighter now, her arms slowly uncrossing.
"One last question," the officer pulled the dagger from its sheath, turning it to admire it. A simple blade, no longer than seven inches. It shimmered in the light as it was turned. A simple engraving rested just under the handle, one too small to make out from their vantage point.
"I would like it if you could put that blade away," she responded harshly.
"You and I both know I'm not the only one carrying a blade, ma'am," Johnson smirked, watching the knife fall into his vision as the woman dropped her arms, confirming that yes, the woman had a knife. The man glanced at her, then back at the officer.
"Duck," the woman motioned for her husband to get down. She held the knife tight enough her pale fingers turned red from the pressure.
"Now now, let's keep this civil."
The man, while he didn't duck, moved behind a nearby wall, watching his wife. She glanced down at the knife she held and lowered her shoulders. Slowly, she moved the knife from one hand to the other, setting it on a nearby surface. She waved her now empty hands at him before dropping them back to her side.
"I need you to examine this blade. See if it looks familiar," the officer offered it to the woman, who approached slowly. She bit her lip lightly as more painful memories came up. She knew exactly what that dagger could do. How weak even being near it could make her feel.
Johnson held the blade of the dagger, offering the handle to the woman. Slowly, the woman reached for the brown hilt, closing her eyes tightly as she wrapped her fingers around it. Before even truly touching it, she had felt a burning sensation in her hand, but she took the dagger from him and held it a moment, shaking her head.
"I can't say I recognize it," the woman handed it back, glancing at the engraving. A swirl, pointed to the right of the blade, a single slash mark passing across it. A unique feature of this blade.
The officer frowned, taking the blade back. He gave it another glance before putting it back into its place on his belt. He tipped his cap at her again in thanks, his eyes looking her over one last time. If it was her, how had she managed to touch the blade?
The woman smiled at him and glanced at her red palm and fingers while her other hand caught her as she leaned against the nearest surface. Her husband emerged from his hiding spot and helped catch the woman. She began gasping, placing her arm on his shoulder.
The officer watched a moment, his face smirking at her. He watched as the man caught her as she began to collapse. Her gasping continued a moment, her breathing slowly returning to normal.
"Seems I found you, Traveler," the officer bent down onto a knee, glancing at the woman who was slowly recovering from whatever had happened. She used her husband to help her return to her standing position.
"Been- been a while, huh Johnson?" she responded in between breaths. She glanced at her right wrist but remembered her bracelet wasn't on her. She frowned a moment, holding the bare wrist in front of her a moment. Her bracelet wasn't on, why had the dagger affected her so badly? The officer took note of this detail as well, shaking his head and laughing quietly.
"Seems, despite not having that bracelet, you still have some magic," he chuckled. He reached for the dagger again. "My my, Traveler. Or, what's it you go by? Willow? Either way, you're still the Traveler, no matter how hard you try to escape that."
The woman turned towards the stairs and pulled her husband with her, running for the living room and cover behind the furniture. She let go of the man and jumped over the couch, falling to the ground. Her husband followed. Johnson had thrown the dagger while they turned, and it barely missed them as they ducked. Instead, the dagger ended up in the wall across the room, shaking a moment before resting still.
"Get out of my house," the woman ordered, lifting herself from the floor. Her husband went to get the dagger from the wall, although he was hesitant to grab it. Shaking his head, he pulled the dagger from the wall. He felt fine, it was like holding any other knife. Why had it had such an effect on his wife? Shrugging, the man approached the officer, handing him the blade. Johnson yanked it from him, frowning.
"Very well, Traveler," the blade was sheathed yet again. "But, I'll be back. We have some catching up to do."
"My name is Willow," the woman snapped, pointing at the door. "And you will leave me, my husband, and the rest of my family alone."
Johnson held his hands up in defense, heading for the door. He left fairly quickly, heading back to his car parked on the street. He glanced back, but the front door had been closed and the lights turned off. He frowned and climbed back into his car. He went to put the keys into the ignition but hesitated. His hand dropped to his lap, fingers tapping his lap as he lost himself in thought.
Willow collapsed on the couch, closing her eyes. She felt the couch shift as her husband sat next to her. He put his arm around her and pulled her closer. The woman lifted her legs on the couch next to her, resting against her husband.
"Who was that?" the man asked after a too-long moment of silence.
"Just who he said. Officer Johnson." Willow kept her eyes closed, adjusting so she was sitting in a more comfortable position.
"Why is he after you?"
"I- I never figured that out. He's always been there, ever since I first became the Traveler."
"What's that dagger?" the man was asking simple questions. He had plenty more but wasn't sure what would be pushing his wife's limits currently.
"He called it the Anti-Traveler blade. It counters the magic."
"The magic of the bracelet?" he glanced down to see the woman nod slightly.
"But, you aren't wearing the bracelet. So why did it hurt you?"
"I guess I still have a bit of magic with me."
The sounds of the pipes in the walls and the nearby clock were all that filled the space. Somewhere in the basement, the heater kicked on, humming to life. Despite this, the woman pulled the sweater around her slightly tighter.
"I'm sorry," Willow glanced up at her husband's face, trying to read his expression. She curled herself into a smaller lump on the couch, tucking her head into the sweater that, despite having been bought years ago, was still far too big on her.
"Don't- no need to be sorry. I just-"
"It's a lot to take in, I know."
"Who else knows? About you being the Traveler I mean."
"One of my sisters. I used to tell her about all my adventures. But, well, she thought they were only stories, same as everyone else."
"Oh." the man wasn't the first to know, but he wasn't the last either. He frowned slightly, his eyes glancing at the small hole in the wall now.
"I never finished dinner," the woman let out a small laugh, but it faded fairly quickly.
"That's okay. How about I go get us something? It's a bit late to cook anyway," the man slid out from under his wife, gently placing a kiss on her forehead. She simply nodded in response as she adjusted to let him move. Once he was standing, she lay down.
The man gave her another kiss on the forehead before heading for the door, grabbing a set of keys as he passed their tray. Out the door he went, shutting the wooden door behind him.
After hearing the car start outside and the sound of it pulling out of the driveway, the woman sat up on the couch, wrapping her arms around her legs. Slowly, she rocked side to side, muttering things to herself. That it would be okay. She was only dreaming. None of her efforts to comfort herself seemed to work. She knew in the back of her mind, it was real. She had made her choice years ago. These were the consequences, poking their heads into her life one by one.
A loud knock on the door made the woman jump and fall on the floor with a thud. She shook it off and got up slowly, wrapping the sweater around her tightly.
She wasn't fast enough. The door was thrown open by whoever was on the other side. The woman grabbed the knife off the table as quickly as possible, ducking behind the couch. Her husband couldn't be home already, and he wouldn't have opened the door with such force.
"I told you, we have some catching up to do."
The woman's shoulders dropped, her lips pressed together tightly. Great, he was back.
"I told you to leave me alone," she called, quite loudly, hoping he thought she was somewhere else in the house.
"I won't hurt you, Traveler. I simply want to talk."
"Yeah, right. Just like all the other times?"
"This time I swear it. Adult to adult. Simple conversation."
Right, the woman nearly forgot. Their last interaction had taken place just before she turned eighteen. Just before she traveled overseas for a few months.
"Put the blade outside. On the porch," she instructed. She peeked over the couch, bringing the officer into her view just enough she could watch him leave it behind.
"Unfortunately, I can't. You see, what's stopping you from attacking me?"
"The blade isn't your only mean of defense."
"And that knife isn't yours."
"Fine. but you stay by the door, I stay over here," the woman slowly stood, frowning. Currently, the knife was her only form of defense. Unless she could get upstairs, but she knew that wouldn't happen.
Johnson smirked as the woman stood. He found it funny to see her this way, scared, fragile, panicked. It wasn't a side she had shown often. She had always seemed to have a brave face, full of confidence in herself. Not anymore. He hadn't seen this look on her since their very first encounter.
"What's the matter, Traveler? Feeling powerless without your little bracelet?"
"What do you want?"
"I've told you, I want to talk."
"Aren't you breaking some law by being here?"
"Talking to someone who may have connections with someone dangerous and seeing they have a knife is probable cause, and that's all I need to be here."
The woman crossed her arms, holding the knife under her arm and at the ready. She leaned against the wall, close to where the dagger had pierced it. The sweater fell off one of her shoulders, but she paid it no mind.
Johnson lightly shut the wooden door behind him, leaving it open just enough he'd know if someone was outside. His hand rested on the hilt of the dagger, light enough he didn't yet hold it, but he was at the ready if the need for it arose. When it arose.
"Where have you been all these years?" he asked, looking back up at the woman. Her eyes still held their signature look, tired but curious.
"After our final encounter, I traveled the world. Took a gap year. Then I joined the Air Force, as you probably know. Got married about a year and a half ago. Living life like anyone else." the woman glanced at the ring around her left ring finger before glancing back towards the officer.
"Why'd you do it? Why'd you give it all up?"
"It was, it's-" the woman paused, closing her eyes and sighing. "-It was better the alternative. I had a chance to go back and I-"
"You didn't take it. Why?"
Willow kept her eyes closed, uncrossing her arms. Images played back through her head. The box. Her sitting near a pond and a brand new dock. The glimpse she was given of the future. The sacrifices she would've had to make, and for what? No, she made the right choice. She got to live the life she had wanted well before magic existed in her life.
"It wouldn't have been worth it. I- I wouldn't get to live this life I have now."
"Funny, I thought you always wanted to be the Traveler." the officer chuckled, shaking his head slightly. The woman had always been so dramatic when it came to things like this. So emotional.
"I thought so too. But then I remembered I had dreams well before I had the magic." the woman rolled her eyes. Seems the officer forgot she hadn't always been the Traveler. She had once been just a normal girl with an overactive imagination. And, more importantly, a girl who had planned her entire life and exactly what she wanted to do before any of her friends did. And her plan has remained mostly the same since then.
Silence sat between them, the heater still humming loudly through it. The woman left her spot on the wall and moved into the kitchen, putting away the random pans and food items she had gotten out earlier. She had set the knife on the countertop, not needing it to put away everything. Johnson followed, leaning on a nearby wall, watching her. He glanced at the knife, and his hand slowly came off the hilt of the dagger.
"Can I get you something, Johnson?" the woman glanced towards him as she finished putting away the last of her unused dinner supplies.
"No, I'm fine."
The woman shrugged and began to make coffee. She dumped the used grounds and filter into a small bin on the counter before adding the new and fresh of both. She turned the faucet on and filled the pot with water.
"Anything else you need then?" she poured the water into the tank of the coffee maker. The flowing water became the loudest noise for a moment.
"You want me gone or something, Traveler?"
"Well for one, you're acting more like you wanted chat than probable cause. Two, well, the last seven or so years of my life have been quite nice without you around."
"I'm quite offended," the officer smirked, his hand now reaching for the handcuffs he kept on his belt. "Unfortunately, the probable cause still stands."
The woman turned towards him, watching as he pulled out the handcuffs. He began to undo them and walk towards her.
"I've done nothing! You can't just arrest me," she reached for the knife on the counter, her fingers barely able to wrap around it.
"I've been looking for you seven years now, Traveler."
"This goes way beyond probable cause. Now it's just personal," the woman had stumbled back into the living room, the knife grasped tightly in her hand.
"Perhaps. However, I do recall a teenager sneaking into a police station once."
"That was years ago. And, if I recall, you kept no record of it."
"Well, there happens to be footage of someone looking like you at quite a few different places where things went, how shall we say this? Took a turn for the worse."
The woman paused, her lips trembling as her eyes widened. Oh no, he kept it. All of it. All the footage from a time when she hadn't been herself. She was sure no one else had seen it yet. But, that would change once she was brought in. and his probable cause was that she was tied to those events. And while it was her in the footage, it wasn't. She hadn't been herself, and Johnson had played a part in that.
"You- that still- it still exists?" her grasp on the knife loosened, and she nearly dropped her only form of defense.
"Told you, probable cause."
The woman dropped the knife and ran for the stairs. Johnson pulled out the dagger and followed her, handcuffs clanking in his other hand.
"You know those all weren't my fault!" she screamed, trying to put some distance between her and the officer.
"But, well, everyone else won't. And it is you in the footage, Traveler."
"It's been seven years! Why can't you leave me be?" the woman tripped over a box and crashed to the ground. The box fell and its contents spilled out onto her. Books, lots and lots of books. Paperback, hardcover, didn't matter. The weight of them all was heavy, and the woman struggled to crawl out from under the pile.
"I gave you a warning. You could've gone in easily. I might have even been kinder," Johnson reached for her, the handcuffs hanging over his wrist. He managed to grab one of the woman's arms and pulled her from the ground.
"You won't ruin my life, not again." the woman grabbed a book and swung it at him, trying to wriggle her other arm free. Johnson loosened his grip when the book hit his face. Loosened it enough the woman broke free and kicked him in the gut. Despite having some combat training, the woman stumbled back into more boxes, sending more books and other assorted belongings all over the floor.
Johnson recovered quickly from the kick. Despite her best efforts, Willow wasn't all that strong compared to him. He tilted his head and lifted the dagger, holding it up a bit higher.
"Enough games, Traveler. You had your chance," the dagger fell, stayed down a moment, then rose again, the woman gasping. Glancing down, she saw her shirt beginning to turn red at the shoulder. Her vision became blurry, and she fell to the ground, gasping as she placed her hand on the wound.
She wasn't sure why, but she began to crawl across the floor as best she could. Her sweater began to drag behind her as she tried to put pressure on the wound. Her gasping became worse rather than better while she attempted to keep her injury off the ground.
"Give up, Traveler," Johnson watched her a moment. She hadn't gotten all that far. Her movements became slower each time she moved, her wincing becoming more and more noticeable.
Willow simply shook her head, crawling into the room full of boxes. The boxes looked more like blobs of brown to her. She closed her eyes tightly, trying to get them to focus.
"You- you know that- I don't do that," she responded, her uninjured arm reaching for a small, blurry object resting on a bench, a faint purple glow emerging from it. Her finger slid the latch open and opened the small box. She pulled the object out, knocking the open box to the floor in the process. It lay, open, on the ground near her head.
"You'd think after all these years, you'd have become smarter," Johnson shook his head as he watched the woman roll onto her back, letting out a quick scream of pain.
"I- guess that's- my charm," a small bracelet fell past her hand and onto her wrist. Instantly, the glow became brighter, a lavender cloud surrounding the swirl of the bracelet. Johnson lifted the dagger again, the handcuffs having been dropped on the floor.
The woman closed her eyes and drew a shape in the air and threw her hands apart. Instantly, a swirling mass appeared in front of her. The glow of the bracelet became brighter.
"See you- around, Johnson." the swirling mass fell onto Willow. Johnson dropped the dagger in an attempt to weaken the woman further but instead stumbled. She was gone, her place on the floor empty. All that remained was a small red stain and a faint purple glow. The glow faded, leaving Johnson alone in the room.
"Damnit!" Johnson threw the blade to the ground. She shouldn't have been able to escape. The dagger was supposed to weaken her.
The officer knocked over a nearby stack of boxes, causing clothing items to stiffly fall onto the floor. She always got away, and he hated it. After muttering several curses under his breath, Johnson picked the dagger up off the floor. He held it a moment, watching a string of magic circle around it. The light purple matched that of the bracelet, but a deep red entwined with it. A small glow came from the engraving on the blade before it returned to being a normal dagger, one Johnson swiftly put away.
The officer simply shook his head and left the room, grabbing the handcuffs, heading back downstairs. He carefully walked over the piles of books and other belongings in the hallway as he neared the stairs. Down the stairs, and straight for the front door. He opened the wooden door with his foot, glancing back at the empty living room. He'd get her next time, he assured himself. There was only so long she could run.
Johnson made it to his car on the street just before a car pulled into the driveway. The woman's husband exited the car, grabbing a bag of food. The officer watched him a moment as the man approached the wide-open front door.
The man quickly opened the door and set the food down in the kitchen, the bag falling over as he rushed towards the living room. His eyes fell on the knife that sat on the floor, and he quickly ran up the stairs.
Johnson chuckled before starting the engine and driving off. As much as he'd like to search for the woman, he had other things to do. Things his superiors would rather he'd get done then focus on a hunch he had based on events of years ago. None of his fellow officers seemed to understand why he had hunted the Traveler, but that was okay with him.
"Willow!" the man called, nearly stumbling as he stopped to look at the fallen books and belongings in the hallway. His eyes fell on the red stain that led to the room, and he resumed his rush. He tripped to the ground upon entering, his eyes welled up with tears. He looked at the red stain on the floor, but his eyes wandered over to the box that fell open onto the floor. Carefully, he lifted it, analyzing it. His fingers traced the engraving on the top, and he realized the box was now empty.
"Willow, no, Willow-" his lip trembled as he held the box close to him while he moved to sit on the bench. The box offered no support, after all, it was just a box.
~~~
Willow wasn't sure where she was, but she was falling. She could hardly keep her eyes open, the pain in her shoulder seeming to worsen after using her bracelet. Eventually, her fall slowed, and she landed on some solid surface. She tried to look around, but was met with darkness. She tried to call for someone, but her body betrayed her and sent her into unconsciousness. Her bracelet glowed a moment before dimming, but not before light slowly flooded the area. Had she been awake, well, the empty mirrors would've been a sight for sore eyes.