Madness Repeated
I can’t go on like this, The Mad One thought to himself. He had no name which he could recall. The people simply called him The Mad One, or just The Mad, whether he was there or not. He didn’t remember most things that happened to him. He knew he was hungry; that seemed to be a permanent state. He knew there was a dark side within him; a side that almost controlled him. It disobeyed laws, stole things, assaulted people, disregarded civilization. It hadn’t always been this way, he knew. This side of him was a distorted version of his true self, whatever that had been, years ago. But in a way, he was thankful for it. He had no skill left; his hands could no longer hold a juggling pin or pull a coin out of someone’s ear. That was a skill he lost long ago. The dark side kept him alive. Barely.
He found a place. It was called "The Red Dragon Inn." All sorts of people where there. Rich, mostly. Sometimes, on a crowded night, he could sneak out without paying for things. It seemed very, very familiar. But that was a different life. Whatever had existed in that half familiar day dream place was gone. The Mad One existed now.
It wasn’t a great existence. He could steal a bag or something, most of the time. It felt good, to be able to pay for something, even though the money was stolen. The Mad One looked out over the horizon, his brown eyes squinting at the setting sun. He had felt drawn, somehow, to this Red Dragon Inn. An inexplicable memory, a feeling, perhaps. Something that had happened to him here. But he couldn’t remember. Everything was a blank. Smells seemed familiar, but faces did not. But there was something here. Something that was a key to his past. Something that could help him find out who he was. He was a nobler man then a thief, damn it! There was a better life then this for him. Somewhere.
Passing footsteps brought The Mad One back from his daydream. It was a woman, petite, no visible weapon, and no escort. Dinner would be paid for tonight, one way or another.