[2] WEEPING MONK║you're not what I was looking for

72| Arianne and Lancelot - I

A soft smile and open arms beckoned Ari to her feet. "My child."

This wasn't possible. She wasn't really seeing the weathered olive skin and bright grey eyes that she'd left months ago, standing only a few feet away. She had to have been too late with falling and died at that Paladin's blade without knowing it.

Ari hurried to her feet and staggered forwards towards the Druid. Tears that hadn't entirely stopped broke from the corners of her eyes again in this suspended moment of time.

"Is this real?" She whimpered.

"Yes, sweet child." Zurah's wrinkled hands reached up and cupped her face with a warmth that battled the cold, and Ari sobbed.

"What do I do?" She begged. "Lance, he's..." Dying.

Sympathy softened the corners of Zurah's eyes and made the smile fall from her face. She took a step back that Ari wanted to chase and held out her hands. A beam of while light formed above Zurah's palms, so bright that Ari had to shield her eyes. Still, around her, was a silent, unmoving tableau of the fight.

That light dimmed, leaving a sword in its place. The long blade was broad, covered in swirls at the hilt and faintly glowing down the steel with runes she couldn't read.

"What is this? Why are you here— How are you here?" Exhaustion bled into every word from Ari's lips.

"Let the Sword guide you." Zurah's eyes held all of the certainty that Ari had lost, though she wished for just one answer that wasn't cryptic.

"What is this?" She asked again, having no choice but to trust Zurah's foresight. She vaguely remembered something about Druid fire, and some kind of fate bring written that had kept her father away.

"This is the Sword of the First Kings."

Ari's jaw fell open. This? This is the Sword of Power? Kaze had said weeks ago now that some Mage called Merlin was guarding it, so why did Zurah have it now?

"Your time is running out, my child, to save your friends." Words so grim that were said so softly.

"No—" She didn't even want the power of the Dagger of the First Queens that had been forced upon her, let alone the power of the Sword that was humming so strongly off of it that she felt it against her skin. It was too much.

"To save Lancelot," Zurah said.

Lance... Ari's eyes stung. How could one sword save him? If Zurah said that this was necessary, then there must be a reason— she must know what would happen if Ari took the Sword.

She reached and hovered her fingertips over the leather wrapped grip, feeling an energy push back against her. The wind and the whispers rattled around in the unbearable silence.

In one rush and bated breath, she grabbed the Sword and raised it in an arc to her side.

The blade sang with a thousand voices and the battlefield snapped out of its trance.

Zurah was gone.

A screech from behind her made Ari spin, Sword raised straight into the soft side of the second Paladin whilst the first crashed to the ground. She didn't wait to see the one with the blade lodged beneath his ribs, fall.

Her mind that governed her actions wasn't her own at all.

Let the Sword guide you.

So she did.

Like she was being called by a siren song, Ari turned towards where the Sword's power pulsed the mightiest against her palm and her feet lifted from the ground, running towards she did not know where, head first and alone towards the edge of the battlefield.