Possession, Part 1

“See ‘im there, boy? The rider on that stallion? That there’s a customer. I bet my name on it.”

“Wow. How did you know that, Grampa?”

“Well, it takes a bright mind and keen eyes to see these kinds of things. And, uh, he’s heading right this way.”

“Okay, Gramps. I think we’ve got an empty room on the first floor he can sleep in. I’ll get the key.”

The young boy sitting on the bench stood up, turned, and walked into the hotel. His grandfather, an old man with graying hair, stayed to observe the newcomer. The old man rubbed the stubble on his chin, deep in thought. The grandfather’s faded, dirty overalls were an indicator to his side job, and his hobby, of tending to his personal stables and the horses within. His old shoes rested on the dry, cracked earth, they coated in earth and hay. He wasn’t particularly large, as he often engaged in strenuous physical labor and he had quite a lot of muscle. However, he’d been more lenient about his jobs lately, the old man’s age beginning to catch up with him and weakening some of those muscles. His hotel was his main interest, but his grandson was beginning to take over his duties, so the old man had found he had more and more time to sit and relax and be lazy for a change. The old man had, as a result, sat on the bench numerous times in the past, greeting visitors to the hotel when they arrived at the door. Because of his experiences with others, he had learned more about the wide variety of people who lived in the town and the surrounding areas. Nonetheless, despite all his knowledge of the townsfolk and the denizens of the drylands, he couldn’t recall any memories of anyone as mysterious as the rider dashing to his hotel.

The rider and his horse looked ordinary enough at first glance. The horse was a powerfully-built white stallion that galloped at a ferocious pace as it barreled down the streets of the town. Despite the effort it was pumping into running, the horse didn’t look tired or anything other than calm. It appeared peaceful, orderly, and swift as it carried its rider towards the hotel. Such a personality wasn’t common among horses, the old man realized, and that suggested to him that perhaps this would be more a unique customer than the many others he had met. Perhaps this man was richer, as it seemed to the grandfather that the wealthy horse owners often possessed horses of great quality and desirable traits. After all, only they could’ve had the money to be able to breed for and acquire such a fine horse, he assumed. He therefore paid closer attention to the rider, but found himself more confused the more he studied the man’s attributes.

The rider wore a simple attire. A black shirt partially covered a brown undershirt, and the man wore black pants. His shoes were scuffed in many places, and the silver spurs that he used to prod the horse onwards were partially tarnished. This wasn’t uncommon attire for someone living in the land. Nonetheless, it looked a little shabby for someone who had such an incredible horse, and this momentarily perplexed the grandfather. This person wasn’t rich; that was apparent. The old man was even more confused when he noticed the rider’s wide-brimmed hat. The hat entirely shaded the man’s eyes, blocking them from the oncoming light of the sun. Although this would usually also be normal for a visitor of the hotel, which was surrounded by hot and unforgiving weather, something else that was unusual was noticeable. The man wasn’t even attempting to look at anything other than the ground in front of him, the way his head was tilted downwards indicating his viewing position. The grandfather wondered about this peculiarity. Why would somebody ride a horse at such a speed, not bothering to observe his surroundings? What was going on? Was this man rich but humble? Poor? Lucky to own such a horse? Reckless? He didn’t have an answer to any of those questions, and that frustrated him.

Finally, the old man noticed that the rider seemed to be a little bruised and beat up, as though the rider had just gone through a terrible experience. The rider’s right leg was bent in an awkward position, and the hat looked as though somebody had sliced it repeatedly with a sword. The old man suspected that this man, thanks to the odd shape of his right leg, walked with a limp. He wondered if the man had gotten himself involved in a brawl, and escaped with less than minor injuries. He could’ve sworn, furthermore, there was a deep cut on the side of the man’s face, but the shadows produced by the hat shaded it from view. Finally, and most important of all, there was something that waved in the air behind the man as he rode. It appeared to be a cape. Namely, a cape made out of animal skin. The grandfather questioned if the man was a hunter who had perhaps fought with his possibly dangerous quarry. Maybe the hunter was successful, skinned the creature he had caught, and was simply passing by. With all these theories spinning in his mind, the old man found one thing was surprisingly clear. This man was a mystery, and the grandfather was interested in greeting him.

Upon reaching the exterior of the hotel, the man reined in his horse, preventing it from galloping and charging onwards. The horse didn’t resist in the slightest, quickly and silently slowing to a halt at the command of its rider. The rider then jumped off the horse, landing on the ground in a painful, awkward manner. However, this didn’t faze the rider, as he quickly recovered from the fall and stood up in an almost straight posture. Next, the man attached the reins of the horse to a post driven into the ground, and marched away with, as the old man had suspected, a limp. Finally, he headed towards the oak door of the wooden hotel. The grandfather slowly got off his bench and intercepted the man. The old man had a lot of questions to ask the stranger, such as who he was, where he’d come from, and why he looked like he had been caught in a violent brawl, but chose to instead happily greet the stranger. It was his usual greeting, and he saw no reason to deviate from it when there was a potential paying customer in front of him. Arms wide, the grandfather said, in his booming voice:

“Welcome, friend, to the ol’ Jameson hotel, founded by yours truly! Feel free to stay for as long as you want! If you have any questions, you can ask my grandson in there, or you can talk to me. I hope you enjoy your stay!”

The grandfather felt uncomfortable as he noticed the rider looking him up and down. The rider made sure that the shadow of the hat always covered his own eyes, and this was a bit strange to the old man. The elderly fellow wasn’t sure what the rider could possibly have to hide, or what the rider was up to, and so he was creeped by the mysterious nature of the man. Finally, however, the man nodded his head, and pushed the old man aside. The rider opened the door to the hotel and walked in, closing the door behind him softly.

The old man was frazzled. He wondered if it would be appropriate to see what the new visitor was up to, or whether he should simply forget the incident and continue to sit down at his vantage point, awaiting any other new visitors. He, in a cowardly fashion, chose the latter option, all because of one fact; the grandfather was immensely strong. Even at his old age, people always complimented him on his tenacity and capabilities. This rider had been easily able to shrug him aside, as though the old man was nothing. This meant the stranger was powerful, definitely more powerful than he, and the old man thought that it wouldn’t be a good idea to visit the newcomer and accidentally provoke him. That’d be a disaster. Besides, how much trouble could his grandson get into? His grandson was methodical, decent, and respectful of other’s private space. No doubt there wouldn’t be any form of a conflict between the two, and perhaps everything would turn out all right. However, fear still gnawed at the old man. The grandfather searched his pockets for a cigarette. No success.

He was left in a somewhat panicked state, listening intently to the noises coming from inside of the hotel. For once in his life, he was scared.