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CHAPTER SIX

PROPHECY OF THE LOST KNIGHT

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

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AS SOON AS THE WEEPING MONK RETURNED TO THE ABBEY, HE BEGAN TO WALK TOWARDS THE MAIN ROOM, WHERE THE RED PALADIN'S HELD IMPORTANT MEETINGS. He picked up his pace, heavy footfalls echoing off of the walls of the church while his eyes briefly scanned every woman he walked past. The sisters of the Abbey quickly adverted their stares when their eyes connected, and held their heads down when he passed alongside of them. The sisters had heard plenty of stories regarding the infamous grey-monk, whose steel strikes without mercy, and the blood that would forever stain his silver blade. His brothers, those dressed in red, nodded their heads towards him out of respect but the grey monk would barely pay attention.

He had come bearing the scrolls from the villages they had pillaged along the way towards the Abbey. Many of them had the spellings of the old Fey, symbols painted onto the paper to only be read by the Fey but some of them were mere English, something the Red Paladin's could understand.

The Monk turned down a series of corridors before he turned to walk into a room filled with several long wooden tables, that had scrolls and paper on them. About a dozen brothers filled the room, Father Carden at the head of them.

  "We know Brother Odo was cut by the sword, because around the wound was a burn... in the shape of a Fey symbol. The Mark of the Devil's tooth." Father Carden finished, as the footsteps of the Weeping Monk entering the room, grabbed his attention.

"Ah... here he is. Enter my son," The Monk's face was still as stone as he approached the table, setting done the heavy documents on top of the wood.

Father Carden moved to pick up one of the scrolls, unraveling the binding on it. "These are the lists of the Fey Elders who are still alive," he spoke and set the scrolls in front of one of the brothers, and he leaned forward to take a closer look. "Their villages are marked on the map. With these maps, we can flush them out," Father Carden spoke, as the monk stood idly behind him, hand resting on the handle of his sword. "With this intelligence, we can end them. And by the glory of God, this land will be cleansed."

"But what about Merlin? He's still the head of the snake," the brother on the right of Carden questioned. "As long as he serves Uther Pendragon, he's untouchable." another brother added.

"Patience, my brothers," Father Carden spoke, "Our mission is the extinction of the Fey. Once we possess the Sword of Power, it'll be a crippling blow to them. Then, and only then, the heavenly fires will come for Merlin," the Father ended, as he went to spread some more papers, silence overtaking them.

As small footsteps of another sister left the room, a overwhelming scent of pine, mixed with lavender and something else he could not pinpoint, filled the Weeping Monk's nose. His eyes narrowed as his head shifted to the side, and he slowly began to turn around with a puzzling look on his face.

He slowly excused himself from the room and walked down the halls to one of the many bed chambers. The Abbey was all but clean, as the door shook from impact, the dust danced in the air while the Weeping Monk entered one of the chambers. The monk paused for a moment, and then continued towards the first bed. A quilt laid on top of it, along with a large wooden cross.

He stood at the foot of the bed before one of the chests, sensing nothing and then continuing down the line towards the second bed. Sensing nothing, he continued to the last remaining bed and felt the sensation inside his mind, a feeling he best described as something pulling at his soul, his mind, his very being. He could smell things the others could not, like an overwhelming thick perfume to his nostrils.

The grey monk flipped the top of the chest open, revealing a pile of messy clothing inside. He paused for a moment, lips pursed in thought until he reached down and dug his hands around the contents of the chest. His blue eyes caught onto a piece of cloth he could have sworn he had seen before, and lifted it out of the chest slowly.

The cloth was a hooded cape. It was heavy in weight and a royal blue color. He felt the worn out cloth between his fingers before lifting it towards his face, and took a deep breath through his nose. All at once, the scent of evergreens, wood smoke, and lilac invaded his nostrils, but something else that was unfamiliar to him.

The Weeping Monk's lips pursed as he looked down at the cloth in his clutches. The same woman with the purple eyes– he would know that scent anywhere. It was the same scent that haunted his dreams, and kept him awake at night. He wondered how she managed to get to the Abbey before he did after he had lost her trail back at the campsite he used to lure Fey, how she managed to get past the guards stationed at the gate with the facial features such as hers. There was also a scent he was unfamiliar with but related to the Fey.. it made him wonder how many Fey were present in the Abbey.

The Grey Monk placed the cloak back into the chest but didn't bother to close the top over it. Instead, he reached into his own cloak and pulled out a piece of parchment he had hidden away. He knew he shouldn't of kept the paper for himself, knowing that Father Carden would disapprove greatly of his actions but something else made him not pass it over. He couldn't and he didn't know why. He began to unroll the aged parchment and quickly studied the markings drawn over the paper. There were some writings in ancient fey, something he couldn't understand and terribly drawn pictures scribbled over the page. A knight on his knees with a dark cloud and a broken down cross over it's head sat at the middle of the writings, then a verse underneath.

The one blessed by the unholy sword, born amidst thunder and lightening, will guide the lost towards the light to combat an impending darkness.

Another picture laid after the verse, a woman surrounded by dark clouds and lightening bolts. In the middle of the dark sky laid a sword that didn't look familiar to him. Ruins were drawn into the fuller part of the sword but since the markings were so small, he couldn't pick them out.

For they will be the guiding light whom will face off against the darkest weapon, and banish the demons they possess.

The Monk drew a breath before it hitched in his throat. He wasn't sure why he had initially kept the piece of paper, but for some reason, he knew it was important. His inner conscious told him to hold onto it after he found it in RockWell, the edges of the parchment had been burned but the verse made it through the fire.

The Weeping Monk looked back towards the chest, and the cloak that he had thrown back into it. The cloak, it belonged to the woman in the forest – that he was sure of. If she was here in the Abbey, he could need to act quickly. The grey monk turned back around with his hand on the pummel of his sword, walking straight for Father Carden to inform him the enemy was inside the stone walls. He would catch her this time.

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RANDVI RAN AS FAST AS SHE COULD TO PREVENT THE MONK FOLLOWING HER. She ran through the trees with ease with her fingers grabbing onto the bottom of her shredded dress, so she wouldn't trip on the ruined cloth. Dawn was approaching in the east as she slowed her run, her lungs on fire from the amount of running she had done in the past few days.

  She was utterly exhausted since she had not eaten since the initial slaughter of her own village. The trauma she had endured that morning would haunt her until the day she would draw her very last breath. Randvi couldn't recall the last time she had not felt sick to her stomach, and the stench of burned bodies never left her nostrils. She managed to grab whatever she could from the forest before The Weeping Monk slaughtered Squirrel's rescue party, but she hadn't touched any of it.

  Randvi walked through the forest, huge trees surrounding her on all sides as she pulled back prickling needles that stood in her way which caused her to get scratches across her cheeks and her hands. Randvi grabbed onto the branches of the trees as she hiked up the steep hill, and that's when she heard the clash of metal on metal. Her eyebrows furrowed at the noise and she quickly pulled herself up the climb to come out on to a dirt pathway trailing through the trees.

Randvi turned her head in the direction of the sound, and followed the noise as it got louder and louder to her ears. "Papa!" she heard a small child cry and then another sound of metal clashing against something. Randvi picked up her skirts and ran down the dirt pathway.

The pathway lead her into a small caravan that was currently overrun by six Red Paladin's, and Randvi felt her rage pour into her magic as she witnessed a little girl with antlers getting carried away from her mother's grasp. The fury she felt choked in her throat as she remembered her own village up in flames, and the high-pitched screams coming from her small community when the Red Paladin's came to slaughter everyone she had ever known. 

 She thought of the little boy Nimue had been looking for when DewDenn became overrun with Red Paladins. She thought about the Weeping Monk, and how he had kept the little boy captive to lure others out of hiding. Randvi was not going to let another child get hurt by these people, not the Red Paladin's, and not the Weeping Monk. Her anger drowned out all the fear she felt.

 Randvi felt the familiar tingle in her fingertips whenever she conjured her magic forward, the Hidden becoming one with her soul as the markings of her species lit up her body with it's own unique constellations. Randvi reached forward, towards the Red Paladin with his sword up in the air to strike down a male Fey, and his was stuck in mid-air. 

 Randvi gritted her teeth while fighting the Paladin's own strength trying to overthrow her magical hold onto him. Her milky, glowing eyes snapped towards the faces who turned to take a look at its new attacker. The Hidden throbbed strongly into her ears as she breathed harder and harder while she stared them all down.

 The Red Paladin's had stopped their slaughter for a moment to look back at the girl, one of them had widened their eyes out of fright as Randvi finally spoke, "Who wants to be first?" Her voice boomed throughout the forest as her eyes traveled towards each Paladin, studying each of their expressions as they all looked at each other.

 One of the Red Paladin's looked towards his brothers in arms and when no one made the move to advance forward, he slapped the nearest brother on the back of the head," What are you guys waiting for?" He knew that if Father Carden was watching them, they all looked like cowards staring down the face of a little fey with courage. "Look with your own eyes, she's just one Druid whore!" 

 Randvi's eyes narrowed towards the man with long brunette colored hair, and a stern expression on his aged face. He was standing in the middle of the slaughter and in that moment, Randvi quickly decided that was going to be the last sentence that would ever come out of his mouth again.

 Randvi flexed her fingers around the magic flowing through the air, and towards the sword she had been magically holding still before the Paladin could strike down another fey. The sword was forcefully ripped out of his hold, twisted forward into the air with a whooshing sound, and then sliced through the neck of the Red Paladin with ease. 

 Randvi let go a breath she didn't know she had been holding in as her eyes darted from one to the other while they launched their attack towards her direction. Randvi called forth her magic once again, and directed an orb of fire barreling through the air, towards the Paladin's. It exploded on impact and the sheer screams of the Red Paladins was music to her ears as the fire grew around their fallen bodies.

One Paladin managed to somersault out of the way from the blast of fire, and Randvi's turned towards him as he grabbed a sword out of the hands from his fallen brother. The man turned around to face her, questioning her with a frightened stare, "What kind of demon are you?" he snarled in her direction.

 Randvi simply smiled, and it was probably the most menacing thing the Red Paladin ever saw. He saw magic like no other, flowing through her veins with white markings like the devil incarnate.  "Probably the one from your nightmares, I assume?" She replied as she twiddled her fingers towards the ground, drawing the magic from the earth. 

 Randvi took a deep breath, feeling the Hidden course through her veins was a different feeling entirely. It was a high that she couldn't explain, she felt the build of magic in the pit of her stomach, like butterflies flying upwards. The Paladin began to walk towards her and Randvi immediately shot her hands out in front of her, and a path of fire erupted in it's wake. It crawled across the dirt pathway, directly towards the Paladin as the magic surged forward with Randvi's mental guidance.  She imaged a circle of fire, and then the path branched outwards on both sides and trapped the man inside the wall of hot flames.

The screams of the children from her village fueled her fire even higher as the flames reached to dance with the sky, and Randvi felt her magic surge so powerful that blood began to leak from the corners of her eyes, and drip down onto her cheeks. The sting of blood mixing with her fresh scrapes on her face, but she couldn't feel the pain of her minor injuries, just the pain of sadness in her chest of the ones who she had lost.

She could see Astrid's hand held out for her to grab, only to have a sword shoved through her middle. She could see her mother's lifeless body bleeding out, and her villagers fight for their lives, only to lose a battle they couldn't win.

Randvi felt tears prick at her eyes as her magic lashed out and covered the ground in a bed of ash, and the Paladin that had been trapped in the circle was nothing more than a skeleton. His bones had been charred black from the heat, and Randvi collapsed forward to her knees, her magic leaving her body all at once.

 Her fingernails dug into the ash below her as she regained control of her breathing, her eyes shutting tightly as her heart hammered away in her chest. Her white orbs soon returned to their natural purple color as she felt the last of her magic still, and the markings of her ancestors left her body until they were called forth once again.

Randvi suddenly felt a hand rest on the bottom of her elbow. Her head instantly snapped upwards to look towards the same fey she had saved from the Paladin's blow. She flinched slightly when she felt his hand on her arm, but soon her shoulders began to relax at the feeling of someone touching her. It was something she was going to have to get used too now that her village was no more than a memory. 

 "Are you alright, miss?" He questioned her. His voice was soft but low at the same time. The Fey helped her off of the ground and onto her shaking legs. 

 "Yes, I'm fine." Randvi gave him a warm smile as a reassurance to him, which managed to make his worried expression wash away. She was physically alright, but her magic drained her body and made her feel loopy. "What about all of you?" She directed her question towards the small group of fauns. 

 "Have you been sent to save us?" One of the little girls questioned her, her wide brown eyes peeping out from behind her mother's leg. 

 Randvi glanced down towards the little girl, hair tied back from her face but still managed to look unruly against her medium skin tone. Little buds of bone came out on both sides of her forehead, indicating her horns were just sprouting. "I don't know, maybe I have." Randvi began to kneel back down to her height as she pushed away from her mother's leg.

 Randvi had never had much luck with children, and it wasn't because she was a good caretaker. Most children heard terrible stories of the Fire Fae, and almost all of them were made to sound worse than they really were. Randvi had heard some of the stories, that Fire Faes were brought from the Earth below to wreck chaos onto their beautiful Earth and that's why they had to be 'locked' away, as some would say.

 Randvi actually adored children for their innocent nature, and have always got along with the ones that weren't afraid of her. "I think you are." The little girl approached her carefully, her wide innocent eyes darting to where her markings would be if she conjured them forth.

 Randvi smiled as her eyes followed her every movements. The little girl had an intricate design of dark leaves birthmarked around her forehead, weaving through her curls and twisting around her horn nubs. Randvi held her palms towards the sky and conjured the littlest of magic she could, and a small spark of fire danced upon her palm. 

 The small child looked frightened at first once the white markings appeared on her skin, but slowly leaned towards her with a goofy smile. "Well, what am I suppose to say to that, huh?" Randvi joked with the child, her teeth showing as she grinned. 

 "Where you headed to the sanctuary as well?" The mother of the little child questioned her, her eyes soft as she watched Randvi interact with her curious daughter. 

 Randvi didn't know anything about a sanctuary, and the confused look on her face was enough for the Fey mother to continue explaining. "The sanctuary is where all the fey are gathering with the Green Knight. He promises safety for our children, while he rallies for our freedom against the Red Paladins."

 Randvi held onto every piece of information she was given. She wondered if perhaps, this Fey Sanctuary would be where she would find answers regarding Gawain. There was also the manner of finding this powerful sword that her mother told her about. Randvi was not even sure what she would do with it once she found it, her mother never explained it's importance to her ancestors.

 "I would like to see this sanctuary.. that is, if you'll allow me to join you." Randvi pushed off of the ground from her kneeling position. She looked towards the trashed caravan and the goods left on the bodies of the dead. 

  "Of course, we would never turn our backs on a sister." The man smiled as Randvi's lips turned up into a grin. "I'm Eldan, and this is my wife and our two children." He introduced them to her, and Randvi smiled back at them. 

 "Randvi. My name is Randvi." She said breathlessly. Eldan and his small family had grabbed everything they could manage to carry before they set off into the Minotaur Mountains. Randvi walked towards the bodies, covered with singed red capes, as a shiny object blinded her eyesight from the sun pouring over them.

 Randvi covered the top of her forehead as she reached down and grabbed the sword from his body. She had never used a sword before, but having one on her person would prove useful regardless if she knew how to wield it correctly.

 Randvi put the sword up towards the sky, overlooking the blade before yanking a sword belt out of another fallen. Randvi clicked the sword belt into place at her waist, and then looked towards the small family of fauns. 

A/N Hello Everyone!

 If you didn't catch on, it was Randvi's cloak in the Abbey since she gave it to Nimue before they went their separate ways. I thought it was a good touch since Lancelot and Randvi can still have some sort of interaction, but still be in different places.

I'm seriously so excited for Randvi to get into the sanctuary and meet Gawain, they're gonna have such a good relationship. I'm excited to write them together.

 I also wanna thank everyone who is reading this story, and giving their thoughts about it. I love reading your comments, and it helps to motivate me to continue writing this story.