Chapter One: Avalon

[Keys of Avalon - Canon - T]

The streets of the mighty and beautiful city are alive with life. All around her people are cheering, singing, and trading in the joyful coming together for the Ascension Festival. All around her people are gathering for the eons old traditions, banners are painted and pulled taunt above the streets, people are putting on colorful garbs of all styles, and children are being told stories of a time before the Great Calm. Back when humans and beasts fought with one another, a time before wild magic was a common place thing, back before the Treaty of Unity with all creatures. She smiles as little children run around her legs, pulling lightly at her dress.

“Oh. Good morning, little ones,” She smiles and giggles softly at them, not a care in the world. They tug at her skirt once more and she smiles. “Alright, alright. What is it? Show me.” She is then tugged along, out of the crowd, and down a side alleyway. Unconcerned she follows them all the way to small, corner home. She frowns at them and looks to them. Three children in all, the biggest being a girl with pale blue hair and just as pale blue wings, next to her is a set of twins, one of lavender and the other of bright red, all the children have the red eyes, the markings of a vampire.

The biggest, and probably the oldest, speak with a gentle and a wispy voice, “Please… Please help, Mama. She’s sick. Please.” The children push at her now, giving herself over to urgency she walks in and a pungent stench attacks her. It’s as if something had died in there already. Her eyes water a little as she looks over to a young looking red headed woman with ashen skin, her body glistening with sweat. Next to her bed lays a bucket full of an off red substance. When she locks eyes with murky red ones she can see it inside her, the coming of death, it’s frightening, but she also knows what she must do. Just as she crossed to go to her, another little tug is given to her skirt.

Looking down she sees the little red headed boy staring up at her with wide and worried eyes, “Can you fix mommy?” Her heart clenches and she realizes, even as a mage, she cannot save with vampiric mother. But she kneels down, her long and wavy dark hair spilling around her as she does. She locks her deep, hazel eyes onto boy’s.

“I will get a Cleric here as soon as I can. Your mother needs medical attention, but I am not quite yet qualified to do such magic,” She says soothingly. Her hand comes and rests on the boy’s head, rubbing it. “I promise. And when I make a promise I follow through, understood?” The little boy nods and she stands, looking over her shoulder she says the only thing she can to sickly vampire. “May the Goddess shine upon you kin and give them kindness rather than cruelty. I shall find you a Cleric, fear not.” With that she gently moves past the young children and back the way they come down together. She makes it to the crowd in record speed, but stops before she enters it, a thought crossing her mind.

“Emerald. She would be practicing right now… And is a lot closer than Weiss.” So she turns back into the empty back roads. Slipping like a ghost through between the stone and mud buildings towering over her like impenetrable walls she moves easier. Knowing the way made things much more sharp and less likely for her to get lost. Then again she had the children leading her before.

Past the old oak and around the small fountain to the large double doors of an old barn she goes. Almost flying through the doorway she calls ahead of herself, “Emerald? Emerald! Please. I need you!” In no time at all a woman not much older than herself appears, peering around a horse stall’s archway.

“Oh. Lady Sara,” She beams a moment before seeing the panic etched into the other and frowns deeply. “Milady. What is it?” Emerald, the woman’s name, walks forward wiping her hands on a smock tied around her tiny waist. “My oh my. You look like you’ve seen the dead rise. Come, do tell me what is wrong.”

Sara nods, “Children. A bit of a ways off, their mother has fallen ill. I wish to pay for treatment for her.” Emerald nods as well and removes her dirty smock. “Will you come see her, Miss Emerald?” The Cleric gathers her bag from within the stall and is ready to set out.

“Show me.”

Together they race along, only running into a person here or there. They, of course, give the proper greetings as they move past. Sara with a panic stricken heart, not wanting the children to lose a mother, and Emerald with a calm and steady breathing as if the running had no effect on her despite her delicate disposition. It takes then a little longer to find the small, corner home than it did for Sara to get Emerald, but they do arrive. And, when they do, the children are immediately ushered out and away from their mother.

“Do not crowd her, she needs to relax.”

And Sara found herself holding the little ones in her arms. The boy looked like he may cry, but was holding it back for his sisters while the littlest girl’s gaze was one of steel, unyielding and cold. The hazel eyed woman holds back a shiver and smiles to the pale blue haired vampire child. Together they listened to the mutters, moans, and grumblings coming from the mother and Emerald alike.

“By all that is Holy,” Emerald catches herself in a swear and clears her throat. “Sara. Get Weiss. Now… This is beyond my power.” She nods and lets the children go.

Patting them each on the head she whispers, “I swear I will return momentarily.” And she once more takes off for the crowded streets and the most direct path to the royal healer. Her feet carry her with a much confidence and she almost misses the box in her way. With an ungraceful trip she goes tumbling forward, scrapping her hands and dirtying her face as she does. But she doesn’t mind as she forces herself to stand only a few feet from the festival now. Reaching the crowd she is stopped by a hand on her should, “Sara. Child. There you are.” The voice is familiar and warm, she in strong arms, worry deep in her bones. She feels them shuffling back into the ally as she is given worried frown. “Sara, my darling, what is it?”

“Father, I must hurry,” Her voice pitches with urgency. “These children may lose their mother. I need to get Weiss, Emerald needs him.” The stone walls echo the concern of her words, but are drowned out by the bustling of the street beyond once they have reached it. Her father’s hands hold her steady before one reaches up and pets her hair lovingly.

“Does she now?” When the man receives a nod his stormy eyes grow dark and deeper than ever before. “Show me and then we will go to Weiss together.”

She nods and leads her father, only tethered by her their intertwined hands now, towards Emerald, the sickly woman, and her three children. She knows her father is no Cleric, but his concern is not one she can ignore any more than he can hers. She can sense someone else following behind them, but she had a feeling she knew who and decides against mentioning it.

Once there she stops and releases her father’s hand. The three children turn to them with eyes wide and mouths slightly agape, but they close them quickly. The three look to her with hope shinning in her eyes and she just waves to them. The boy returns to her side, giving her a hug as her father walks in, shortly another male comes walking forward, his orange colored hair and splay of freckles on his face are unmistakable to Sara. This is the young knight Percival. She nods to him as he looks into the small, corner home, a deep frown on his face.

“Sire,” Percival calls ahead as he walks in. “Is Emerald here?” Her father nods to the male, his wavy dark hair swaying as he does.

Before the knight can speak again her father gives a gentle command, “Bring her, and her children, to the castle… Weiss can look at her with Emerald there.” Sara smiles as she looks down to the children with a wink. “You get the children, Percy, bring them with Sara. I will carry this maiden home, it seems as if she may have much to tell me. And Miss Emerald, please, go on ahead.”

The young Cleric then leaves the small house, “Do take care to not aggravate her, Sire.” And she smiles to Sara and the little ones. “Your mommy will be better soon. We just need the right medicine.” With that she takes off ahead of them quickly, humming a tune to herself.

Percival looks rather unsettled and he speaks lowly, as if to disguise it to the children.

“Sir…? Is this really wise…?” He nods to the other male leaning over the young mother. “She looks half starved.”

“All the more reason, Percival. Of all people you should know this.” Sara doesn’t need to be in there to see the cold look her father just gave Percival, “Do as I command, Percival. I will not ask again.” With that she can hear the rustling of the mother being picked up. She smiles brighter and holds out her arms to little red head. The child blinks at her and looks to his sisters, they nod. She lifts him up into her arms.

“Come on, Percy! Get the little girls.” After a short bit, and the little blue haired girl having packed what she could, the little lavender haired girl is in Percival’s arms and the other is being led by the hand. Due to the festival it’s safe for them to walk the back alleys to the side entrance to the castle. Met with little resistance they are let in with the children and met with a grumpy look man with black hair and just as dark eyes.

He taps his foot impatiently, “What’s this about a vampire disease? I see no problem with these beasts.” Sara frowns at him, but holds her tongue since she knows he’s only blowing hot air and means none of the insults, besides he is a vampire mutt himself. “And where is there mother? Honestly. These days people just do as they damn well please-”

“Weiss,” Percival cuts in. “Did you forget her ladyship is here? As well as children? Hold your tongue, you old mutt.” To which dark eyes glare into golden ones. “And don’t think I am scared of you refusing me treatment. If I need as such I will go to Miss Emerald. She is not only able to heal as well as you, but is a fair bit kinder to her patients as well!”

Weiss snorts and rolls his eyes, “I am the Royal Healer, show respect, Knight.” But, other than that, he doesn’t pay any more attention to Percy. Instead he bows deeply to Sara. “My apologies Madame. I mean no offense to you or the children. Please. Let me know what I am needed.”

“Miss Emerald should already be here. Hasn’t she told you what she needs yet?” Sara’s tone is curt and clipped before it softens when she turns to the knight. “Come, Percival. Let us find a place of rest for this family.”

“Yes, Milady,” The two say as one. Weiss scampers off with a grumble and Percy follows alongside the young woman with a soft smile.

“You know, Milady, I think they would fair best close to the infirmary.”

“Do you now?” Sara cocks her head to the side before nodding and looking to the shy, almost silent children they are escorting. “Would you like to stay close to you mother?” At the little nods she receives she smiles. “Come then. We shall set up a room for you three. And a nurse maid, yes?” The children nod once more as the set off to get them nice and comfortable for the long night ahead of them.

Weiss lays his head upon his desk. Just a moment’s rest is all he requires, his body long since past the point of exhaustion. He grumbles lowly. The newest patient, the young mother, has been doing anything but getting better. And, to make matters worse, he can recognize this illness. It is the same one that had stripped Avalon of its Queen only five years prior leaving King Seraph to raise his daughter Sara alone as well as run a kingdom. Miss Emerald, as Weiss can recall, had been a close friend at the time and become a sort of older sibling to Sara since then.

The dark eyed male sighs. If what he believes to be true is then there is no magic, no herbal remedy, nothing that can save this woman, can save anyone really. This illness, though it had been scarce previously, has been found in many patients recently and there is nothing neither him nor Miss Emerald can do. He drags a hand through his dirty, dark hair. Weiss knows that is a lie, there is one thing he can do. He could just kill them and end their suffering right away. But no. Their families are depending on him to produce a cure out thin air, as if no science is behind the magic he performs, as if anyone could be a Master Cleric such as he and Miss Emerald.

Despite all this, in the dead of night, when all he can hear is the scampering of mice and the labored breathing of the sick he feels at ease. It could be the beast blood in him, the odd mix that comes out as anything, but human. Yet he finds himself on the King’s Court and is trusted as if he were a purebred human being. Avalon is such a wondrous and strange place. He is certain anywhere else he wouldn’t have even the option to practice commonly let alone to this magnitude.

With another sigh the elder healer looks to the side at his college passed out at the assistance desk provided for her. Part of him is tempted to carry her to her room and lay her to bed, but he knows the repercussions for such an action done to one of noble blood, even if only by a drop. One more sigh leaves him as he hoists himself up to go check on the rows of beds.

On the right side are the human patients just as feverish and sick as the creature patients on the left. When he reaches he bed farthest from the door he groans inside. It’s the bed of the mother and her three children seemed to have snuck in again. Weiss is too tired to wake them as to scold them and decides that if they were to have caught the sickness they would have had it already. Besides, it seems as if this illness isn’t contagious, just deadly and spontaneous. So he rolls his eyes as he walks back to his desk to read by the low burning candle’s flicker there. In the morning he will yell at the three and shoo them out. As it is now, he feels the need to research as much as possible, so he shall.

Its been days since the festival and Sara finds herself listening in on her father’s council meeting from the vents in the room next door. Percival is there with him as well is Weiss and Emerald. Others that she doesn’t know very well are also present. Her father had just finished explaining that the patients seem to be getting worse according to Weiss and Emerald’s findings it seems to be magical in nature, more of a curse than an illness.

“Yes,” Weiss cuts in. “And not your common day curse. More so one that is made to act slowly and pretend to be a sickness. But the more magic you put into the person, be it natural or wild, only seems to worsen their conditions.”

Sara can hear murmurs before another voice, this one gruff, speaks, “Is that what we call a curse now a day? Back in my day we could tell a curse from a cold. Now a days you youngsters think that if it can’t be cured with magic it’s a curse? My. How stupid we have become.” Sara has to hold back a giggle at that, she can almost see the peeved expression on Weiss’ pale face, his eyes flashing gold in anger and embarrassment. “Come now, child of beasts, tell us the truth. You haven’t a clue and are just wagering that it is a curse in hopes to push the burden onto mages like Minerva so you can go back to lazing all day.”

“Warren,” Her father’s voice is cold and sharp, it makes her shiver a bit as he continues with the gentle scolding. “Weiss has more than proven himself as our healer. Now. If you don’t have anything constructive to say, do not speak. Although, I do understand your concerns. Weiss. Do you have anything more to add to the idea that this is a curse?”

“Um, uh…”

Emerald cuts in before Weiss could further speak. “No. But Sir Percy-”

“Percival, please. My name is Percival.”

“-has told me of possible lead as to why. It seems that creatures on the fridges of out realm are worse off than we are, Sire… Um, you tell him, Percy.”

Percival sighs through his nose, “As you wish Miss Emerald.” A shifting is heard and Sara assumes that Percy is looking towards her father now. “It has been reported that the illness is far worse to the edges of our boarders, Sire. That many have no only fallen ill, but have Ascended as well.” He pauses a moment, she can see in her mind him struggling with the words to describe what he must next.

“Is that all Percival?”

“No, Sire… You see. Many reports of people… Fighting amongst themselves and rampaging have come to us recently,” The words are controlled, but the tone they are spoken in is laced with fear. “The reports also say that people have been… Coming into their Arcanes much faster than ever perceived as possible, but, when they do, is when they rampage, Sire. Its rather… Chilling.”

“Chilling indeed,” Her father’s voice is thoughtful. A heavy pause lays over them for a long moment before Seraph’s voice raises high and clear. “We must visit these people and aid them as we can. No longer shall they suffer alone.”

“Milord,” A new voice, eerie and oily, although feminine, creeps and seeps into Sara’s skin making her feel sickened. This voice she hears often as it belongs to her magic teacher, Minerva. “Could I be so bold as to say you should be bringing your heir with you…?” There is a heavy pause before the woman obviously clears her throat, realizing that more explanation is needed. “This would be, of course, to train her, Milord, in the ways of a Queen… Not that she isn’t well trained as she is. I just wish to bring up her studies as a matter of importance.” Of course she would, if she had her way Sara would never have fun and would always be locked away studying somewhere. But this is different. This is the question that beckons her father to relent his hold on her safety. Surely he will not say yes.

“Hmm… I see,” She could hear the frown in his voice. “And you think putting the Princess in danger is good for her growth?” Sara rolls her eyes. Yes things may be dangerous but as long as Minerva and Percival are around she will be untouchable.

She’s glad to hear her teacher state almost the same, “Sire. Between all of us Masters both Princess Sara and yourself will be safe. Not that you yourself, sire, need much protection.” Sara crosses her fingers as she waits for the answer. The idea of getting to see the world she’s only read about is a little thrilling. Not that she has ever really worried about the surrounding area seeing how she’s grown up in a time of peace unlike her father who had taken up the throne at the age of fourteen and had waged a war against more monstrous creatures before the Treaty had been fully written up and signed upon.

Finally her father sighs, “You make a strong point… Alright. Sara will come with us, but she is to be kept as far away from any battle as possible…” He pauses a moment and Sara can’t begin to picture how serious her father’s expression must be. When he speaks again its firm, but also cautious in nature, “Percival?”

“Yessir?”

“Princess Sara shall be learning many trades on this journey. You shall teach her the way of the sword, understood?” Sara felt her heart skip a beat when she heard that. If she was to be kept away from any form of battle why is she going to need to learn that? Unless… Her father is just being cautious she’s sure.

“Yessir.”

And, after that, the meeting dissolved into plans for the travels. Sara couldn’t wait to leave and be taught, but, at the same time, her heart ached for the children living here and the fact they will be without a mother soon… And there was nothing anyone could do for them.

The day arrived quickly for their departure. Sara was amazed by the gathered group. Warren stood with his selected soldiers for this mission while Minerva has her own pack mule full of books and herbs, meanwhile Percival is adjusting the saddle on a young dappled grey. The stud of a horse snorts and taps it hoof annoyed at the tugging. But the Princess frowns. Her father is still back by the Castle doors with Emerald and Weiss. She jumps when she hears her female friend shout.

“Weiss! I can take care of myself!” Turning around Sara sees Emerald stomps her foot childishly and pout with her arms crossed in front of her small chest. “Stop babying me! Besides, you said yourself you can’t go because of the number of sickly being so overwhelming! And they NEED a Cleric to help them! What if someone is wounded or falls ill?” Those are good questions, Sara frowns to herself as she looks to her father whom is smiling and shaking his head at the two.

Weiss stands at his full height, his dark hair spilling from where it’s tied up and away from his face, “Emerald. I swear to the Goddess, you child, need to think with you brain sometimes. Of course I can’t go. Neither can you. The number of sickly are too great for just one Cleric and I cannot afford to leave them long enough to find a replacement.” He huffs and rolls his eyes. “Besides. This journey is no place for you. You’ll get hurt with your little experience-!”

“Sara is going,” The girl almost sounds pathetic as she pouts harder. “Come on, Weiss. They still need a Cleric!”

Weiss looks to Seraph now and sighs, holding the bridge of his nose, “His lordship knows of many Clerics suitable for the journey. Besides. They are stopping at my home village first. There is a Cleric there by the name of Bryan. He will help.” He then stares down the younger Cleric. “So, Lady Emerald, please. Calm yourself. All will be fine. You are needed here, so be it.” Emerald sighs and nods.

“If you are certain.”

“He is,” Sara can hear the humor in her father’s voice. “Do not fret. We will all be home shortly… Weiss? Keep me updated on the conditions here. Anything changes, notify me as fast as possible.”

“Yessir.”

Sara jumps when a throat is cleared behind her. Turning she sees Percival standing there with a set of reigns in his hands, “Milady’s steed is prepared. Do you need assistance mounting him?” Sara shakes her head no and Percy gives her a gentle smile. “Don’t worry about these two. We’ll be seeing them soon, I’m sure.”

“Mmm. If you assume as such,” Sara mutters slightly and then walks next to the horse. “Hey there boy, be easy on me, alright?”

Percival chuckles, “His name is Philippe. And he isn’t just any horse.” He rubs the creature’s flank and its sides shift before spreading. Sara stares in awe as she sees a beautiful set of dappled wings stretch out in front of her. “He’s a flier. Just like his mother Storm, your father’s mare.” Percy nods his head in the direction of a strong horse with her head held high. “Storm has seen battle long before she met your father and only was tamed when your mother found her. It’s said that the bond between your father and her is so strong because your mother put her life on the line to protect your father from the mare when she attacked your father… Philippe has a reputation to live up to…”

As do I, Sara thinks to herself quietly. You and are have a lot to live up to, huh Phili?

The young steed turns to look in her direction as if to say he agrees with her. But her snorts and she smiles. “Nice to meet you, Philippe.” And she then pats his mane. “Up I go.” Before she steadies herself on the saddle and has to give a little jump in order to properly mount the young stallion. He lets out a huff and she smiles and holds out a hand for him, he sniffs her and huffs again.

I think this will turn into a great friendship. What do you think, Phili?

Philippe shakes out his mane and dances on his toes to get balance with his new rider. After a moment he neighs happily. Sara takes this as a good sign and pats him again. Percival nods up at her. “All set?” She nods to him with a large smile. “Good. We will be leaving on your father’s mark… Be sure to keep up the trot, understood?”

“Yes, yes,” Sara sighs. “Go get ready, Percy.” Her tone is filled with humor and the ginger walks off with an almost annoyed expression at the unwanted nickname.

After a moment the knight calls back, “Tomorrow morning... Training will begin…”

The village is small and is resting next to a small farm just before the Enchanted Forest. Sara yawns from the long ride. It’s been a whole day and a half just to get to the nearest village from the Castle, she never knew that people lived so far apart. Even Philippe seems tired as his trot slows to a gradual walk. But the peaceful village welcomes them with the barest of smiles between the hard work of the farmers.

Ahead Sara can see Warren and Percival chatting with one another, both of them on foot while their mounts graze nearby. Even farther ahead her father is smiling and laughing with an elderly woman, she can only assume that they know one another. Her body feels heavy and stiff from the sleeping on the ground and early rising. But, even in her sleep filled state, her father’s voice comes clearly to her, “Sara. Come here, child. I have someone I wish for you to meet… And let Philippe have a rest, my dear.”

Nodding she dismounts and pats the young, winged horse’s side, “I’ll be back… Sleep, explore, just don’t run away.” The playful whinny she receives brings a small smile to her face as she walks past the Knight and tactician to her father’s side. “Yes, Father?”

Seraph smiles to his daughter and waves to the elder woman before him, “Meet Mimi. She’s the village elder and one of the protectors of this place.” Sara bows to Mimi, the elder woman gives her a toothy grin and her old eyes sparkle. “Mimi this is my daughter, Sara Fairwinds. I hope that you two will take the time to get to know one another.” Sara nods and Mimi just hums before the King kisses the top of his daughter’s head. “Now. Us mages must find Bryan, Sara, Mimi, do take care.”

Sara frowns only after her father has left her sight, the elderly woman gives a small laugh and nudges the girl, “Your father is strong man, stronger than most and with a kind heart.” She hums again before turning and walking towards a small building. “Come child. Let me read for you.”

“Read?” Sara ponders aloud, but follows the elderly woman. “I am able to read just fine.” And maybe better than you seeing how old age seems to have taken some of your sight. The last is noted in her mind as Mimi shuffles around and looks for whatever she wishes to read by touch. Finally she produces a set of tea bags, a kettle which she fills with water that seems to magically begin to boil as she sets it on a small and round oak table, and a set of worn cards. These cards, Sara notes, do not have any images on them nor seem to be different than each other in any what way. This causes the girl to frown, but, when Mimi points to chair near the table, she sits as instructed.

Mimi smiles another toothy grin, “I see you are not a believer, Sara. Much like your father once was.” She gives another laugh. “You see, young one, I can gaze into the future and write out vague tales of what is to pass. But, as you might guess, I can also peer into the past and link together what has been to what will be and how one effects the other.” She smiles pleasantly and Sara finds herself nodding. “So. I shall lend you the cards. Shuffle them however you feel like… Just remember to relax.”

Sara nods as she takes the cards and begins to shuffle them. Meanwhile Mimi begins to prepare the tea, letting seven bags steep in the kettle for a short while. The girl watches as she pours a deep blue colored liquid into two huge cups. One is places before her and the kettle is set to the side, still steeping. Mimi then waits patiently, sipping her tea once before she nods to Sara. “You can stop whenever you like, child.” To which the girl freezes, confused, before she realizes that she has been shuffling the deck the whole while.

Flushing Sara nods, “Alright. And now what do I do?” Mimi gives her gentle smile.

“Take the top card and lay it flat as well as face down to the left, take a card from the bottom and it flat as well as face down to the left. Shuffle once more and then place the top card in the middle,” Mimi sips her tea as Sara does as instructed. Looking to the cards Sara gasps. The once blank cards suddenly have silvery backs with blue stars flickering on them. Mimi smiles again. “These cards react to your destiny, child. Aren’t they beautiful, just as you are.” And then she flips over the middle card. A deep frown on her face as a young rabbit with majestic angel wings and crown is laid before her. “This is your heart now, the destiny of a gentle creature with a noble goal… While this one…”

Sara watches as Mimi flips over the left card. A heart with a skill’s shadow is produced. This one confuses the girl, she looks to Mimi, wondering what it means. But the elderly woman frowns the card having been turned over the correct way up for her. Mimi sighs, “An unforgivable shadow lingers in your heart even now child. Do not let it consume you or you shall perish.” Her lips are pursed, but she says no more as she flips over the last card. And gasps. A dragon as black as night with acid green eyes stares at her atop a mound of dead bodies, its teeth and claws stained with blood and mirth glints from it. The elderly woman looks panicked, but she looks to Sara and says softly. “Your future holds terrible and horrible things. So unspeakable is this one image, but… Your future also holds many a great things. Bonds and hearts shall both be broken and mended in your wake, dear child. Take care to not let your past rule you… For it will try… It will try…” With that she gently takes back the deck and gathers up the three cards. Sara watches the colors fade from the cards and she frowns deeply.

“Terrible and great things? Bonds and hearts shall be broken and mended? What does that mean? Mimi… What… What is going to happen to me?” But the elderly woman just shakes her head at the worrying woman. “There must be more than that. Please. Tell me!” Sara jumps to her feet, almost knocking her tea over, but Mimi shakes her head once more.

“Drink your tea child, it will help.”

The tea will help? At a moment such as this? This old woman is mad!

“I think not, Ma’am,” She frowns, but the elderly woman just stares at her. After a long pause Sara sighs and sits, defeated. “If I drink will you tell me more?”

Mimi frowns before sighing, “I will tell you what I can, child… But do drink. It’s a stamina brew… I will send you with some of my herbal mix teas… Now drink.” The elderly woman puts away her cards and the kettle cools down to almost room temperature as she watches Sara drink deeply. The girl can feel her nerves relaxing and strength coming to her in waves. She mutters a small “thank you” and Mimi finally speaks once more. “Your future is that of darkness. Forged by misery and vengeance. You cannot escape this destiny alone, dear child… Do not let your heart become one of stone. That will be your greatest downfall. Remember, every tragedy is blessing, and every blessing is something worth fighting for.”

Sara frowns and is about to speak when a knock is heard on the door frame to the small building. Turning Sara see a man with long, shaggy black hair pulled up into a high pony tail, a twinkle in his yellow eyes. She also notes that his pupils are slits and are the mark of a Were-creature. He gives snotty laugh, sounding like a pig as he does, “Sara is it? Don’t worry about what mean old Mimi says. She’s gone batty in late years.” Mimi frowns at the male and he chuckles. “Ah, come on, even Ma would of said it, Mimi! Anyways. Miss Sara? Come, your father wants you.” Sara frowns but stands and walks over to the male with her head held mightily. The male laughs again. “Oh, you royals… Name is Bryan. I’m the new Cleric, best be making friends, I hear my magic gets iffy if I don’t take a liking to ya.” At which he laughs again and moves from the door way.

Sara can feel her eyes rolling as she walks out, “You are Weiss’s son? Who would have guessed?” She sighs as she walks onwards and towards her father. As she goes she can hear more laughter and feels a frown growing large on her face. This shall be a rather interesting travel, won’t it? She sighs again, but lets it go for now.

Her body ached everywhere. Sore and exhausted beyond belief Sara could hardly sit on her horse let alone walk beside it in order to lead it through the dense woods. Minerva had kept her up long past sunset and worked her magical energies down to the last drizzle. Then, before dawn had even crept upon them, Percival had woken her and they had practiced until nearly the end of breakfast. She never had felt so happy for weird hunter surprise stew with dry bread and a cup of water in her life.

Sara’s father had comforted her when she expressed her pains and discomfort, but he made her promise to keep trying that, that this was to make her stronger one day. So. She is begrudgingly awaiting the endless cycle of little sleep, unsavory food, and long as well as tiring travel. Her days have begun to bleed together into one, huge ache.

She sighs as she comes to a small stream. Loosening the grasp on her reigns she leans down and dips her fingers into the water, it’s cool to the touch and soothes her a little. Simple things like this she never really understood until starting this journey. Now? Now she can understand what her father meant when he said it’s not just what you see that makes Avalon beautiful. It’s everything there is to it that does. All the souls gathered together in harmony long since won.

Sara can’t imagine the world as anything more than the peaceful woods around her. So calm and welcoming. As if the world itself was saying its okay, you can relax now, I’ve got you. Yet she knew better by now. Letting her guard down was just an incentive for either of her teachers to give her a lesson. She really liked the ginger knight better when she hadn’t been close enough to his face in combat to have memorized his number of freckles. And her magic teacher never let the chance to drop another surprise lesson on her pass by. So she stands tall, “Let us go, Philippe.” She whispers to the horse and it whinnies as they begin once more, their feet getting damped by the stream as they walk onwards.

Time passes slowly as they wander, about ten feet from the rest of the party having needed a “moment of peace” away from all the rumors of death. Minerva had snorted at her, but, with a little help from her other teacher, she was allowed to have some space. Often times she can feel their gazes on her, keeping check from a distance. Sara sighs to herself, her dappled gray stead snorting in agreement. This all seems to be a little stifling despite the openness around her.

Carefully stepping out of the stream she has to avoid root and rock alike, her eyes almost glued to the ground. It takes her a moment to realize she had stopped due to bumping her head into a small wall. This wall is warm and jumped. She gives a tiny shriek before looking up to see a man with dark skin and dark hair looking at her with frightened eyes. But the fear fades when he looks her over, inevitably spotting the royal mark on her winged horse’s saddle, and he drops to the ground before her in a bow.

“Freya,” He says quietly, his body stiff in what could only be nerves. “Forgive Nah. Nah is runner. Nah mustn’t stop. But Freya see Nah. Nah is no safe. Nah be punished. Freya, please, no see Nah.” She then takes in his garb, its loose and flimsy like wisps of fabric and elegant. The elegance is interrupted by the shackles around the young man’s ankles. Her lips press in hard line as she can hear metal clank up next to her and worried hand is placed to her back, she can see the scars that mar the male’s natural beauty, they at all on his back as if he had been whipped often. When he looks up she can begin to assume why, the looks of arrogance and dark humor in his eyes is enough to drive any slave merchant crazy .

Then, to her left, Percival speaks, “Milady, are you alright?” He glares down at the male. “Did he hurt you in any way?” She shakes her head and slowly kneels down. She can feel another presence on her right, one full of magical prowess.

“No, Percival,” When she is crouched in front of the male she holds out her hand, to her right a snort is given and she concludes that Minerva must have come to watch over her while Percival dealt with the issue. Sara sighs before she speaks once more. “Nah was it? Don’t be afraid. You are safe with us, I promise.” But the male frowns and shakes his head as he slowly stands, making sure to keep his gaze down and away from anyone present.

“Mmm… Yes, Freya. Nah is Nah. Nah is never not Nah… Mmm… Freya hear Nah. Nah speak to Freya. Nah know Nah is in trouble. Nah no good. Nah bad, very bad Nah,” He speaks in a simplistically complex manner that seems to have baffled the knight next to her, his body tensing before he exhales sharply. Meanwhile the mage on her other side sighs and mutters something darkly under her breath that Sara can’t quite catch. But the dark skinned male just nods to Sara. “Good forget Nah, Freya. Nah is bad news. Nah no good, Nah runner, Nah is bad Nah.” He shifts uneasily as he speaks, revealing the full truth about himself and Sara can only sympathize with him. “Nah sorry Freya touch Nah. Nah is no good. Nah is dirty. Nah wish no bad for Freya… Sword Man and Miss Mage no like Nah, yes?”

The ending question is given with a small smile, its dazzling and endearing all the same. Sara can see why someone would think they should keep someone as handsome as Nah as a trophy. But she could never accept the idea of slavery. Slowly she stands and holds out her hand once more as Percy clears his throat, “The Princess wishes to shake hands with you, uh, Nah. Do you shake?” And, after a brief thought, he adds. “And I am weary of you, not that I do not like you.” Its then that more footsteps come to their attention. It seems that the whole band has come to see what is going on just as Nah takes Sara’s hand in a firm and strong embrace. Minerva snorts again at the display, obviously displeased, but not commenting on here or there.

“Freya,” He leans down and kisses the back of Sara’s hand causing her to raise a brow in question, surely as a slave – since he has spelled out that much to them– he shouldn’t have the knowledge needed of a gentleman. But his smile dances with humor as he leans up and releases her hand just as her father draws up on the other side of Philippe next to Minerva, the horse seemingly calm in the male’s presence, maybe that is why she isn’t too jostled by the whole ordeal, or maybe it’s just that this male is so unthreatening it’s laughable. But she does nod to both Nah and her father.

Her father gives Nah a smile, his stormy eyes bright when he suddenly embraces the other, “If it isn’t the little Valerie boy returning to his post.” He spoke as if the two had once known each other, humor lacing his words, and Nah smiles brightly. “Nah. My brother. I was told you were dead. What has become of you?” The dark skinned male gives a hum before reaching up and picking leaves from her father’s shoulder.

“Nah got lost. Nah is sorry Nah worried Brother. Brother is well? Nah hope so,” He hums loudly just as Minerva gives an annoyed sigh.

“Sire… This isn’t the slave child you paid for, is it?” Its Warren who spoke, his voice dark and dangerous. “Years back, before he spoke a word of our tongue?”

Seraph nods, “Yes. This is Nah Valerie de Chieftain Valkyrie of the Southern Elven Tribe… I had freed you many years ago, my brother. Why are you shackled now?” The playful tone leaves the king and his eyes grow violent. But the dark skinned male waves his hands in the air as if to dispel dark thoughts.

“Brother, calm. Nah is runner. Nah be bad, Nah need punish, Nah understand, Nah no mind.”

Seraph shakes his head and sighs, but it’s Percival whom speaks, “Should we confront the slavers, sire? Is it not illegal to sell a sentient being unless it is their profession?” At the last part Sara looks to the knight with wide eyes. Their PROFESSION? Is there such a thing?! But Percy doesn’t hear her silent thoughts and finishes with. “Unless this Nah is actually willingly allowing himself to be enslaved. Which I doubt because he is running from them.”

It’s Minerva who speaks next, as if she wants to get something off her chest, “Yes. Yes. Let’s go forth and beat down the dastardly bastards. The sooner they are dealt with the sooner we can get this elf back to his people.” Upon which Bryan gives a laugh, the Cleric sounding almost like a squealing pig. The Master of Dusk magic looks to him with a sinister glint in her eyes. “And what is so humorous, young healer?”

After a moment of calming himself down Bryan blinks at her with eyes gradually widening, “Wait… Wait… Do you really not know?”

“Do I not know WHAT?”

Bryan’s lips press into a thin, hard line, “The Southern Elven Tribe has been missing for over a decade now. Ever since they lost their heir they’ve been on the move only surfacing long enough to push back against the expansion into the forest.”

Minerva snorts before peering at Nah, a frown darkening her features, “This man isn’t an elf! He is merely a human, why on earth would we return him to them? He belongs among his kinsmen.” At this Nah raises a brow and gives Seraph a knowing expression, Sara frowns at this and realizes that her teacher is right.

“Wait. Minerva is right-”

“Of course I am! I’m not BLIND.”

“-Father… He bears no markings of an elf… How is that possible?” Sara found herself drawn in due to the mystery. Her father gives her a sad smile, but Nah stands up to his full height and stretches his arms wide.

“Nah is elf… Nah just human now,” The man gives a happy laugh. “Nah just need work hard.” And he nods to his “brother” whom gives him a small, weak smile.

“Yes, Nah,” Seraph says with a sigh. “We will lift the curse… Now, Minerva, don’t make assumptions based on appearances, you know better than that first female grand mage. And, Percival, seeking them out may cause more problems than just taking Nah in… What do you say, Nah Valerie? Join me in arms once more?”

Nah gives a laugh and holds out his hands before him in an open hand gesture, “Nah wish Nah could. Nah told Nah serve better elsewhere. Nah not ready yet. Nah sorry, Brother. Nah must run.” He takes a step back. “Brother. Take care of girl… Malory worry…” Seraph frowns, but nods.

“Go then. And don’t Mal worry, I will,” He wraps an arm around Sara and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “She is my daughter and I would take on the world to protect her.” Sara can feel a retreating gaze on her as she looks up to her father and she can feel herself turning pink.

“Until next time, Brother,” And, when Sara looks back, he’s gone. It’s as if he melded with the trees themselves. Her eyes widen in awe. Then someone clears their throat.

“We should make camp soon, Sire.”

“Yes, of course.”

Sara felt her body being lead and Philippe whinnies as they begin to walk once more. The entire band is around her now. Yet she finds herself worried deep inside, as if something terribly wrong is about to happen. Frowning she remembers Mimi’s words to her and shakes them off. Great and terrible things are coming my way? Not as long as I have my friends, not as long as I have my teachers, and not as long as I have my father!