[𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙨: INCOMPLETE. ongoing, slow updates + being focused on !]
𝐓𝐏𝐊 ━━ "RAINING GHOSTS WILL SOON BE CAMELOT'S CLIMATE AS THE WAR RAGES ON..."
IN WHICH ... two apprentices from polarizing sides find solace with one another as conflict sta...
"OFCOURSE Merlin would antagonize you for studying dark magic along with your training in the barracks. It's not like he knows better; you're progressing quickly using the staff." Out of all places, Azure appeared out of nowhere, leaning on the closed bedroom door, rolling her eyes. From the corner of Tristabelle's eye, she could see her form in a somewhat lavishing, teal shawl, and a dark grey village dress, with those same ivory ribbons slithering like serene serpents, crawling around her forearms so unusually. "It has been four months! He fears so much for nothing. Your own mother being me, for one, is only the leading edge. All he used to proclaim was that I was some madwoman."
"You make him sound pathetic," Tristabelle returned, impassively, appearing to not bat an eye towards the mother, and instead, writing down her notes and reading her texts.
"Isn't it nice, though?"
"I suppose."
Over the three months she found supposed solace in Camelot, Tristabelle adapted quite quickly. Along with having the habit of keeping structure, she honestly felt much better behind castle walls than travelling who knows where with those Bissets, sewing and spinning and slaving away for them like a servant, ever since she was only seven years. Even if her magic didn't exactly blossom just yet.
She made as much of her time there worth it. Productivity was key. Her philosophy was that if she didn't work hard, then she wouldn't pay debt to the people currently looking out and down upon her, even if they weren't paragons.
She already felt as if she were a burden, but sharing those feelings and actually expecting them to care for her weren't in anticipated alignment. No, she'd rather just pay debt for the rest of her years than ever express inner turmoil. They hadn't any care for some little wizard apprentice. They had more important things to do while Tristabelle had many more secrets and spells to unfold, as the mother would string and sew chaos together around the kingdom while her daughter was doing her busywork. The daughter took her real name willingly and gladly, along with accepting the fact that, no, she wasn't too normal, and, yes, she'd be killed if she didn't practice restraint and poise.
And surprisingly, she took the rest of the new discoveries and happenings quite well. Yet, there were also these questions that lingered: How her mother was coping with this situation, being hidden and whatsoever, who the mother really was, and why the mother wouldn't let her use the cutlass she'd been dying to ask about. Honestly, she'd gone through a while without asking, and was surprised she hadn't in a while.
