Open | Action: What is a sally if not another word for adventure? (literally)

[hildago]

While there had been no flower-borne sickness for Don Quixote, nor another kind of sickness (which really, might have been the death of the old man, what with his missing teeth and chinked ear). So, today, the weather only finds the Knight Errant on the back of his fair, sway-backed steed, Rocinante, the hooves clip-clopping along the streets, in search of adventure.

That there can be no true monsters, or dragons, doesn't occur to him. After all, what is a Knight without adventure? (Besides a crazy old man?)

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[makeslouder]

It is entirely possible that this man is a reenactor very good at his job or someone truly from the Middle Ages. Blue hopes that it's the latter, especially for Gansey's sake. Wouldn't he love meeting someone from the past? She'd like to think so.

If he's real. Right now, Blue is looking and feeling a little skeptical. She doesn't repeat herself. Instead, she shakes her head. "No it isn't. The tenants of Chivalry are based on honor and faith. You're supposed to protect the church, your nation, and anyone in need without giving offence or looking for reward. No where in the code does it mention odes or poetry of any sort."

[hildago]

Not the Middle Ages, but the pre-Renaissance, mostly, or as he would say, of the Iron Age to return them to the Golden Age....

More or less.

At her reply, the Knight's brow furrows. "In the great books of Romance," he stammers, "Knights would compose spontaneous odes, whilst doing also what you speak of, all of that, yes. I seek no reward, nor did I speak of one. And I have given no offense, either."

At least that he can remember.

"I am Don Quixote de la Mancha! Knight Errant! Righter of Wrongs and Redresser of Grievances!"

[makeslouder]

Blue is more than ready to point out that books of romance are just that: books and stories that have no bearing on fact. That the knights within those compositions would spring into spontaneous odes does not mean that it's historically accurate. Though Blue has been taught to be respectful of her elders, she'd also rather they not be misinformed.

Just as she opens her mouth to speak, the knight provides his name and her eyebrows rise. "The Don Quixote de la Mancha?"

[hildago]

"You have heard me of me?" the knight asks, pleased. "I know of books that are more or less truthful. I will be most happy to elaborate If you would like! I will start with the fact that Sancho is indeed as fat as the books say."

[makeslouder]

This, Blue's decided, more than anything else she's ever experienced, has to be the strangest thing. She's never actually read Cervantes' classic, but she's certain that you'd be hard pressed to find any well educated individual who hadn't heard of him. You don't have to go to Aglionby to be aware of the classics.

She just never thought they'd come to life. Or be standing right in front of her.

It takes a second more and then she nods, smiling with all the southern charm she knows. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

[hildago]

"And you, fair maiden!" Don Quixote bows with armor that creaks and bones which creak too. "It is my honor!"

[makeslouder]

"Blue," she replies, not particularly fond of the way 'fair maiden' sounds. It might be politeness in his time but to her 21st century standards, it sounds a little... well, a little demeaning. "My name is Blue. Considering that I'm no one of particular importance, the hyperbole is really unnecessary."

She's a non-psychic girl in a family of psychics from a small town in Virginia. Blue really is no one anyone would be honored to meet.

[hildago]

On the contrary, fair Blue! If nothing else, the man standing (or more accurately swaying) in front of her is indication that anyone can be anything, is he not? An old man can be a knight, simply by being mad and possessing the requisite things to be a knight.

"... Blue," he asks, perplexed. "Like the color?"

[makeslouder]

Though she’d never say to his face, Don Quixote is a fictional character. He can be whoever he wants to be because Cervantes had written him that way. Real life doesn’t work like it. Blue’s life might be more fantastic than most but that doesn’t change her fate. A sensible girl from Henrietta with decent grades knows that she can’t afford to go to the kind of school she’d like to study ecology. She doesn’t get to marry the prince. She doesn’t even get to date him. The prince dies. That’s reality.

But she won’t tell him any of that. It would crush him and though a little misguided, he has done nothing to earn that kind of ire. She nods. It’s a question she’s heard more than once. “Yes, like the color.”

[hildago]

"How interesting," he tells her. "And are the other members of your family also named after colors? Because that would be quite something. Something to be detailed in books most certainly!"

For the record, Don Quixote is not just a little misguided, but completely without his wits. So, the young lass is being very polite.

[makeslouder]

Her nose wrinkls at that idea. Blue has no desire to have her life detailed in the pages of a book. She's never cared to have the spotlight shined on her. That's Orla's thing. Definitely the kind of attention her Aunt Neeve craves. But if Blue remains a secondary character for all her life, she'd be okay with that so long as she gets to live it. And live it in the way she wants.

"No," she responds simply, still keeping up the calm and polite demeanor. "I'm afraid 'm the only one."

[hildago]

"Well," the knight rallies, never one to be deterred long. "That makes you that much more unique! Like myself! There is, despite other books may tell you, only one Don Quixote de la Mancha!"

[makeslouder]

"I'm really not," she insists, holding up her hands in protest. But even as she protests her own uniqueness, Blue wonders how many other people out there might actually be like her: capable of making things louder for other psychics. It might be unique but it's not the sort of uniqueness that Blue would prefer to be. "There might only be one Blue Sargent from Henrietta, Virginia but that doesn't make me anything special."

[hildago]

At this point, Blue might have been talking, but Don Quixote is far from listening. "Why, when I discovered that there were books written about me, I took great offense! Not everything was correct, of course. But what can you expect of the Moors? Liars that they are."



**Disclaimer: views about Moors expressed do not represent the views of this author or of Cervantes.

[makeslouder]

It's not an entirely unfamiliar thing. She's observed similar before: clients of her mother's who'd much rather believe their own preconceived notions than anything Mora shared. Blue thinks that it's a foolish way to behave. But Don Quixote had never been known for his sensible way of thinking. Not like Blue Sargent.

"I wouldn't dismiss the Moors so quickly," she points out. "Would you rather no one write your story?"

[hildago]

"What?" Excuse him, young lady, his mind had wandered.

Ah! His story! "I will just need to make corrections," he blusters. "So we are sure the truth goes out!"

[makeslouder]

In some ways, talking to Don Quixote seems a lot like talking to a brick wall. At least Blue's had some practice with that.

She takes a deep breath and works on being polite as she nods. "Exactly."