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Nameless: A Fairy Tale
 by  A Very Tall Oak Tree in City Park

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After several hours, Mildred put up a hand to stop him.

“Enough. The sun is setting, and you should go. However, I can tell that we still have much to discuss. Return in three days’ time—we can continue then.”

When Morgan had left and felt his way down the mountain path in the fast-arriving night, he dwelt on the answers to the questions that Mildred had given him. She had managed to give feasible answers, yet had somehow eluded his questions so that he was left feeling just as empty as he had when he had come. It made no sense to him—he would ask Nameless about it when he found her again. He did not doubt that she would keep her word and await his return.

Sure enough, he found her waiting sitting on her boulder, knitting an olive green cloak. She half-smiled.

“She asked you to come back.”

For the umpteenth time that day, Morgan was stunned. “How do you know this?”

“She finds you…worthy…of her attentions, I think,” Nameless answered slowly. “I say to you, within a week she shall conceive your son. Within another he shall be born. Within a third he will be the age that you are now—your equal in strength and ability.”

Morgan shook his head. “No. Let me prove you wrong in this. I swear to you that there has not passed this day, nor will there ever pass such relations between her and me.”

Nameless gazed at him sadly. “I respect your courage, yet in this matter I swear to you that I cannot be proven wrong.”

“Explain this to me, then. How it is that a boy can, within three weeks of his birth, gain equal status to a knight?”

“I do not understand these things fully; I only know them to be true. Believe me, Sir. I tell no lies.” Nameless’ gaze was fixed on a point far away, and she seemed lost for a moment.

“What shall I do now? She wants to see me again in three days; shall I stay here, or return home?”

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