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

32| Ties Which Bind {Part Three}

[TW// blood, minor injury]

Lancelot chooses to make a sacrifice and Ari takes magic into her own hands. Squirrel is confronted with a harsh reality.

Golden streaks of setting sunlight pushed through the forest, casting shadows of everything in their way. The steady bang of the drums echoed the strong beat in his chest, his feet marching as he kept those weeping eyes low for now. He felt the heat come and go on one half of his face as he moved between the shadows. The burning lanterns in the trees rattled with the wind and the jangling as they clashed was sharp in his ears. He could almost feel the heat from the fire pits marking the boundaries of the enlarged clearing as he got closer, following in the Sunborn's step. The burning of the timber and ashes tickled his nose as the embers cracked and spat up to cast those rippling blood red hues over the leaves rustling in the sunset up above.

The painted Fey gathered around the clearing parted to allow the old Sunborn king with all his grace and majesty to step in, the last Ash uncloaked down to his pale grey shirt and trousers following in his wake. He felt his amulet against his chest, reminding him of who he was and why he was doing this. With his preparation he had been cleansed, on the surface at least. The darkened curls of his lengthy hair were pulled back in their usual way. He bore no paint, no markings other than the emblems of his kind which stain down his cheeks.

Squirrel watched on eagerly, almost giddily from where he had pushed his way to the front row of the onlookers watching with an expectation for how this might end. He had never seen this before in his short life so he soaked in the atmosphere whilst he still could before his friend was fully submerged into the trials of a Fey blood binding.

Lancelot stepped through the rows of Fey, their eyes on him forcing a steadying breath to shake from his chest. The old king led him forwards and they stopped in the centre of the clearing. Ari wanted to be the one to be by his side, but as their crowned queen she had to be the one to speak these words. He could not see her as he stood alone under their judgemental gazes. He felt the vein pulsing in his neck as he shifted his sights between their faces, at their looks of hatred and anger but then his eyes fell on those that he recognised. Kaze to his side, the Moon Wing witch, the redhead healer, the Green Knight before him with Arthur not too far away, all watching him, examining.