Considerations of a Cartographer
Well, the Cartographer of Lost Places thought to himself, the Caretakers had defeated the Winter King despite seeming to be a little dim. The Winter King. Mordred. But he was not always Mordred. Once, he was Madoc.
Madoc. His brother. His twin. His friend. It had been many long, lonely years since he had thought of his brother. He had escaped the Binding placed upon him by Arthur all those centuries ago. He was still Bound, he thought bitterly. He probably would be until the Keep of Time disintegrated into nothingness. Then he would fall and would discover what death was like.
Funny, he thought. He had never really thought about death before. He was virtually immortal, after all, due to his father, Odysseus. His father; another man he hadn't thought about in years, although it hadn't been centuries since he had thought his father, it had been millennia. Almost two, now that he thought about it. Although, time was relative. Being Bound with in the Keep of Time had taught him that above everything else.
Anyway, death. He mused on this for a while, doodling a map on a scrap of parchment while he was doing so. It had become almost a habit while he was deep in thought.
Maps. He had started as a mapmaker and it seemed like he would finish as one. Life seemed to enjoy running in circles. Big circles, in his case though.