DAYS passed, Guinevere was getting pretty bored in Nemos, she needed something to keep her mind off of the past events and worries. Eventually, she offered to help the preparations for some wedding.
"Where did you learn to sew, Guinevere?" asked Amelie, a Snake Clan fey who took a liking in Guinevere.
"My dad is...was a tailor. He showed me some basics." the girl responded, her chest suddenly heavy at the mention of Raphael.
Amelie nodded, continuing her work.
"You are amazing at this." Guinevere complimented as she watched the fine details on the bride's dress. Amelie just smiled.
"That boy, Squirrel, is he your brother? I saw you were proctecting over him." the Snake Clan fey knew Guinevere was too young to have a child as old as Squirrel, so he must be her family.
"He is a friend, all I have left from home." her eyes were a little wet now "I don't know what happened to my brother..."
Amelie squeezed her hand, giving her a reasuring smile, which Guinevere returned.
TRISTAN POINT OF VIEW
He and Claire, the Tusk women from Dewdenn were wandering in the woods for days. Hungry, tired and filthy. At first it was just the two of them, trying to get to Gramaire. On their way however, they met other two feys, two Fauns.
They told Tristan and Claire about the fey resistence and together they tried to find more about it, maybe The Hidden will guide them.
" What is that? A carriage?" asked a scared Claire. "What if It's full of Red Paladins?" added she.
"Calm down, for the love of Gods!" said Tristan, slightly annoyed. He knew it might be scarry, but he was ready to fight anyone. Tristan was usually a kind and noble soul, but the red cloaks didn't deserve his mercy, not after they slaughtered his family. And he definitly wasn't going to run and be scared.
They got closer to the carriage, heads down and Tristan had his hand on the sword. The carriage passed them, but suddenly stopped. A women got off, yelling after them:
"Born in the dawn..."
"To pass in the twilight." finished Claire, full of new-found hope.
"Are you with the fey resisntence?" asked one of the Fauns.
"I am. My name is Isidora."
They got in the carriage. Tristan staying next to Claire, she was between him and Isidora.
"Have you, by any chance, saved a girl, around my height, dark, curly hair, with some blue-green eyes?" Tristan asked, describing his sister, he still had hope to find her.
"No, I'm sorry." Isidora said. "Was she your lover?"
"My sister."
"Where exactly are we going?" asked Claire.
"Nemos. The Green Knight brings fey survivers there."
"Did you never got lost on the way?" continued Claire. Tristan tought it was a silly question, but the Tusk women was full of these, he got used to it.
"I have a map." Isidora said, holding a piece of falded paper. She put it back in the pocket of her vest.
Their conversation was interrupted by the man in the front.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Man on the road!"
"Turn around, Claire!" Isidora ordered, maybe the man was fey, but if he wasn't he must not see Claire's antlers.
Isidora stood straight in her seat as the carriage stopped. Looking out of the small window she saw a man with weeping eyes, The Weeping Monk. Isidora heard stories, but prayed to never cross paths with him. Tristan couldn't see who was outside, as Claire was blocking his view.
"Your buissnes here, ma'am?"
"Leather selling." it was what all those who were rescuing feys said.
"Why isn't she turning around?" The Weeping Monk asked, reffering to Claire. Tristan still couldn' t see the man, but he didn't like where this was going.
"Her face is half burned. She doesn't like people seeing her like that." Isidora lied easly, even if her heart was pounding.
"Out of the carriage!" he demanded.
None of them moved, but Tristan tried to reach his sword. The man pulled Isidora out, rather agressivly. The two Fauns rushed to help, even if they were unarmed, brave, but stupid action.
Claire wasn't understanding what was about to happen, but she got out as well.
Tristan took his sword, getting out of the wagon the last, as he was sitting the farthest from the door.
To his horror he noticed Isidora on the ground, dead. Same went for the Faun feys. He killed them so fast, they didn't even got a chance to scream.
Anger filled Tristan's chest. He raised his sword, stopping the man from killing Claire. Their swords were hitting against each other, the stranger was a skilled fighter, no doubt. Tristan was a much better fighter usually, but he was tired from walking days with little food and sleep.
His hood move a little, exposing a pair of weeping eyes. The Grey Monk.
Tristan blocked his attacks, but he was too good. He managed to knock Tristan down, as he was preparing to kill him, The Weeping Monk was hit in a head with a rock. Turning around, he saw the Tusk women, she was coming closer to him.
"Don't touch him!" he found her attempt to save the half fey man pathetic. With a simple swing of his sword, The Grey Monk killed her.
While The Monk was busy with Claire, Tristan rose to his feet, ready to fight for his life. Ready to revenge his fey brothers. This was the more cruel part of him, his viking side.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He is stubborn, like that non-fey girl he used as bait days ago, tought The Monk. Their swords were clicking against each other. The Weeping Monk managed to hit Tristan's left shoulder, making him hiss.
Tristan felt he was losing, but he wasn't going to die today. He remembered about the map Isidora showed him, the one towards Nemos. He just needed to knock his opponent down, as he was sure he couldn't kill him.
Tristan used most of his strenght to punch him in the nose, causing his eyes to water. The Monk's vision became blur from his tears. Tristan took advantage of this, kicking him in the stomach, making him fall to the ground and hit his head a little.
The half fey man rushed to Isidora's corpse, searching the map in her vest. He found it, took it and ran as fast as his legs were allowing him to, before The Monk regaines consciousness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tristan stopped after a while, after he considered he was far enough from that place. Unfolding the map, he started to follow its intructions. He was agitated, his people were slaughtered once again and the pain in his shoulder was giving him a hard time, on top of everything he lost hope that he and Guinevere will ever see each other again.
After something that felt like hours, Tristan reached an area with some simboles, fey simboles. He struggled to understand them, Celest taught him the fey language, but it was quite dark outside, as he stopped on his way a few times to catch his breath.
Sadness filled his whole being at the memory of his mother, imagines of her lifeless body played in his head. He had to keep going, his family was gone, but he will survive to carry their legacy.
Follow. West.
Tristan started to walk again, towards the West, he was tired, injuried and hungry, but he kept going.
GUINEVERE POINT OF VIEW
Guinevere spent most of her day sewing with Amelie and the others, the wedding was approaching and things needed to be ready.
"I am hungry, should we go? The groom's clothes are done, there's nothing left." asked Amelie.
"Yeah, let's go."
The two women went to get themselves some food. As they were walking, Guinevere heard someone call her. Turning around she saw Nimue.
"Nimue!" Guinevere and Nimue shared a hug, they have never been too close, but seeing a familiar face gave them a feeling of hope and happiness.
A dark-skinned man stood there, in silence, not knowing what to say. He cleared his throath, catching their attention.
"Guinevere, this is Arthur." Nimue introduced.
Arthur held his hand for Guinevere to shake.
"And he is...?" she asked. Nimue wasn't really the sociable type, but maybe this miraculously changed.
"It's uh, a friend."
She laughed a little, Guinevere never saw Nimue so reserved and secretive about someone before.
"Guin!" called Amelie.
"Are you hungry, Nimue, Arthur?" asked Guinevere.
"Uh, no thanks."
"Well, I am, see you around?"
Nimue nodded and Guinevere left, taking a seat beside Amelie. She tried to eat, but the sight of a certain man caught her attention. She droped her spoon. The man turned a little, she was able to see his side profile now. It was Tristan, it was her brother.
Guinevere stood up imediatly, rushing to her brother. She heard Amelie calling her, but she kept running towards Tristan.
"Tristan!" she yelled, in the edge of teares. At the mention of his name, the man turned around. Guinevere.
He opened his arms, holding her tight, lifting his sister and spooning her around, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. Tristan lost hope for Guinevere , but here she was, in his arms.
"You are here..." he said softly, watching her face.
Guinevere couldn't bring herself to say something, too many emotions were challengeing her. Her eyes went wide at the sight of a blood stain on Tristan's shirt.
"Tristan you have to see a healer."
"I will just, I was worried about you, Guin."
"Me too, I didn't knew what happened to you, if you made it back safe."
The siblings were reunited, finally. They hugged once more, before Guinevere introduced Tristan to Amelie. He was consulted by the same healer who took care of Guinevere's leg the day she arrived to Nemos.