Page 79 of Awakening
“You should rest, Trystan,” Emrys suggested.
“I’ve been sitting all day, Emrys. Believe me, this is resting for me right now,” Trystan replied.
“I have much to tell you about Queen Mysel and her people.”
The fire roared, heating the air around them. Marc walked around behind Trystan. He put his arms around him to stop his pacing and pressed up against his back.
“Go on then, Emrys. We’re listening,” Marc said. He kissed Trystan on his neck and nuzzled him as he held him close.
“For thousands of years, before the reign of your father, Trystan, the elves lived peacefully within Blaiddúlfur Forest, deep in the mountains of what is now northern Wales. They interacted with and befriended some humans at first, but as time went on, humans became more destructive in their conquest for wealth and power, destroying innocent living creatures and the natural elements of the earth. This greatly upset the elves who then vowed at all costs to avoid future contact with humans whenever possible.
“But even that was not enough. Unintentionally, King Arthur brought war through the elves’ forest home. Much of the Battle of Cambrian was fought in Blaiddúlfur. The undead he fought spread a plague through the forest, killing the animals, petrifying the trees, and forcing the elves into the caves beneath the forest.
“Hoping one day the forest would recover, the elves further isolated their land with a curse to prevent uninvited guests from wandering through their home. To this day, however, Blaiddúlfur Forest still sits lifeless and the elves remain underground.”
“If what you say is true, why would they help us?” Trystan asked.
“I don’t know that they will. During your father’s last battle, I know Morgaine sought allegiance from Queen Rannva, the elves’ previous leader and Mysel’s mother, but even when offered a chance to return life to their forest, Rannva refused to takes sides and intervene. My only hope is that this time, the potential outcome of losing this war against Morgaine will be enough to convince Queen Mysel to join our cause.”
***
They spent the night on horseback, gliding rapidly across the country. Somehow, Trystan had found a way to sleep while riding, though not for long. He estimated he had managed three or four hours of intermittent sleep. It didn’t help much. He was still tired.
Trystan’s mind drifted, and a little blonde with long hair and a pet wolf danced into his thoughts.Emma. His heart clenched as he thought of her, wondering what had become of her after he’d left. Did she still tip toe along the river bed, spearing fish with Artemis by her side? Did she still search the skies for firebows and dream of mermaids and dragons? Did she return to their home near Tref Eira with Myrddin?
And what of Myrddin? Did he still exist in the other realm? Did he now spend his nights alone? Did Myrddin miss him?
Myr.
Emrys glanced at Trystan. He sensed a deep heartache once again. The same as when he’d emerged from the labyrinth. Emrys looked at Marc. Catching his gaze, Emrys tilted his head in Trystan’s direction.
Marc nodded and rode up alongside Trystan, nudging him in the arm. Trystan blinked and pressed his lips into a tight smile. He had to remind himself that Marc was real and the one who loved him. The one to whom he was bound.
Some hours later, Emrys slowed his pace. Trystan and Marc did the same. Trystan suspected they were nearing the outer edge of the valley forest. Soft orange rays of sunlight peaked through the gradually sloping mountain pass in the distance behind them.
They slowed the horses to a walk. Marc pulled up alongside Trystan. Trystan looked over at him with a sleepy smile. They continued north for another half hour or so before Emrys stopped and dismounted.
“We must go on foot from here,” Emrys instructed, “and leave the horses. They will find us if and when we need them again.”
Trystan grabbed his bow and quiver and studied their surroundings.
The land before them stood in stark contrast to the gently sloping, green mountains through which they had just passed. It was more desolate than he had imagined. The ground was a mix of rock, ash, sand, and dead plant life. Tall, dead trees, with scraggly and dry broken limbs, towered above them. A few had fallen or broken over time. Decayed vines lay strewn unassumingly all over the ground and wrapped around boulders. From the trees, the withered creepers hung sinisterly, as if primed to trap prey.
The rotten stench of death hung in the air. Trystan covered his nose and mouth in an attempt to filter the nauseating smell. He hadn’t prepared himself for this.
“I take it this is the cursed area around the forest that you mentioned earlier,” Marc said.
“Yes, Your Grace. It is also known to some asCylmarlaeth, or Ring of Death.”
“Before we continue, Emrys, there is something I need to do,” Trystan stated.
“Of course, Trystan.”
Trystan turned to Marc. “I have something for you.”
“For me?”
“I don’t know what dangers we will face in the events yet to come, but I do know you have risked your life more than once to save mine.”