The will of fate

No one was ever certain where he came from. He himself could not say. He drifted into that little town one day, a lone dark figure bearing the scars of many past battles. When asked his name, there was a long pause, as if that of a rummaging through rarely-used things long put away, before he answered.

"Ahnleh."

And that was all the name he gave. Many shivered when they heard it, for it connoted not just the trivial twistings and turnings of one's life, but the sense of being a pawn in a grand and terrible scheme that encompassed the universe. Ahnleh. Fate.

He saw her on the street that first day, a delicate little creature, yet one who did not flinch when she met his eyes and the terrible emptiness he was sure anyone could see within. She was the daughter of the baker, selling pastries from her basket, and with a smile, she offered him one, for, as she explained, he looked tired and dusty and must have come from a long way off.

Just how far he had come he did not know. All his memories were jumbled bits and pieces of towns and people that all looked the same, without an indication as to his exact origin. Mother? Father? Wife? Love? Those were words that seemed alien to his ears, as alien as he might himself seem to the townsfolk. Yet she not only fed him, but found him a place to stay for the night.

That night he could not sleep, though the bed at the inn was soft and comfortable. After tossing and turning, finally he got up, thinking that a walk might ease his restlessness.

After some time, he found himself across the street from the bakery, where the baker and his family lived above their shop. Lost in his own chaotic thoughts, at first he had not noticed where he was. He was only brought back to a consciousness of the world around him when a cry rent the night. Looking up, he realized that where all the other shops and houses were locked and barred and darkened for the night, lights burned in the baker's shop.

His feet took him to the threshold, where his eyes took in a terrible sight. The weeping baker's daughter knelt beside the inert body of her father and mother, even as rough hands were dragging her away. Those of evil intent, whose predatory eyes had noticed her earlier that day, had come to rob the shop and its owners of everything they had, including life and honor.

They fell silent when they marked his presence. Glances were exchanged, and then suddenly, two of the villains charged him with their blades, expecting to take him easily.They realized how wrong they were only when what passed for their souls found themselves divested of their bodies.

One step brought him to her side, and she looked up to see a dark figure, tired and dusty no longer. A shining blade was in his hands, and great tattered wings unfurled to encompass them, raising a sharp wind that blasted the brigands off their feet.

"I am Ahnleh", he said. "I know now what Fate brought me here."