[1] WEEPING MONK // you're not what I was looking for

2| A Greeting To Remember

═ 𝘼 𝙂𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙏𝙤 𝙍𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙢𝙗𝙚𝙧 ═

[TW// threatening language]

The Weeping Monk meets the one person who could perhaps become his downfall.

The Monk sighed heavily as he eyed the path up ahead from the saddle of his great horse. From the scent all around him, he could tell that they were heading towards a Fey camp. His ribs ached like they were never going to heal, and the sleeping boy in front of him pressing into his chest, only served to make the pain worse. The child will be safe with them, he reminded himself over and over again.

Gently he spurred his mount forwards and down through the trees. It was a tight squeeze at first for his horse to pass through the initial dense forest, and once they came out of the thick woodland into a more sparsely populated area of trees, the Monk could sense that they were not alone. He hoped that whoever was there could see that they were no threat, though he couldn't be sure. They'll think I've hurt the boy.

"Wake up," the Monk nudged the boy with his free hand which was resting on his own thigh. At the lack of response, he nudged him again, "Percival, wake up."

"Whaaaaaat?" Groaned the boy, stifling a yawn as he sat himself upright.

"Eyes up, stay quiet," the Monk warned.

~

They carried on through the forest, the horse's gentle lull almost putting the boy back to sleep again. The Monk knew that they were getting close when the scent of Fey began to overwhelm his senses. A twig cracked somewhere and the steady horse beneath them snickered.

"Easy, Goliath," the Monk reassured his friend, whilst the boy gently stroked by the side of its mane.

The horse's ease was quickly broken as a creature decorated in leafy camouflage dropped out from a tree and landed beside them, startling the horse into a half rear which only caused the Monk more pain as he gripped to keep the boy in place. Four more creatures whom he now recognised as Fey dropped to the ground from the canopy above as well. One lunged forward and grabbed a hold of the horse's reins while another reached for the Monk's sword in its scabbard.

The Monk swore under his breath and hoped that the boy was too preoccupied with what was going on to have heard him, only to have the boy repeat his curse a few seconds later. He turned his head towards the Fey who was now pointing the Monk's own sword at his chest. A look of recognition flashed across that particular Fey's face when he realised half a second later just who he had before him.

"It's the Weeping Monk!" He shouted to his comrades who inched closer to the pair, their own weapons drawn. "You're coming with us," he threatened.

~

The Monk quickly got bored with the way the five Fey surrounded them on their short journey to their camp, weapons drawn and pointed towards himself and his horse. The Monk thought of several ways that he could easily dismiss the fey, if his body wasn't so in need of rest. One kept his sword trained on the boy. Touch him and I will kill you. The one leading their train tugged on Goliath's bridle a little too harshly for the Monk's liking. Pull him any harder and I will kill you too, he thought to himself. Scowling beneath his hood, the Monk stayed quiet for their journey and let the boy annoy their abductors with his nonsensical babbling.

Mothers cried out for their children to come back to them as the Monk and the boy were led into the Fey camp hidden deep within the green forest. The boy looked around with his mouth agape at all the different kinds of Fey that were around them. Many unsheathed their weapons, or picked up an object to use as a weapon when they saw the Monk entering their home.