A tale of song, swords, and flowers

Chapter 6

A/N

OK before I forget I'm just going to go ahead and do this up here. Content warning for violence, verbal abuse, and attempted suicide, I know this type of thing can be triggering to some people so reader discretion is advised. I'll put this little emoji right before where you should stop reading🖤 and another one where you can start back💚. I understand if you do choose to skip this section, but you will probably be a little bit confused. So I'll put a recap in my usual end authors note explaining what happened in less gruesome detail. See you on the other side of the emotional evisceration train

Sage

For the fourth time One of Tristan's blades slid home into the flesh of his enemy, and for the fourth time it did no lasting damage as the bandit leader healed himself.

"Getting tired?"

Tristan didn't bother dignifying the other man's jab with a response, jumping back into the fray with a shout. In truth he was tiring, every Dodge and Perry taking a bit more time, a bit more strength to execute properly.

"Should I use it?" He wondered silently, grunting as he fended off a particularly vicious strike. "If I don't I probably won't live to see tomorrow!"

"serce Gryfa, wzywam!" As soon as the incantation left his lips, a wave of searing heat flowed through his veins, incinerating his fatigue like so much kindling. The world around him became clearer. sharper, his movements increased in strength and speed, blades clashing with earth shattering Force.

Scolex cackled, Face contorted in an unsettling rictus of glee. "That's it! Give it all to me Noble night of Aquila!"

Thanks to his enhanced sensors Tristan could see the unhealthy aura of tainted magic whirling around The other man, an ominous purple thundercloud most intense around the blade currently sweeping sickle like toward his neck. Cursing he jumped back, gasping as The very tip of the sword grazed his upper arm. He attempted to raise his own swords in a proper defense, but his left arm felt like it had been doused in ice water and the blade slipped from numb fingers. Distantly he heard Florian cry out his name an alarm, but could do nothing as his surroundings seemed to waiver. He tried to use the magic aura of his own blade as a focal point, The glowing, golden light the last thing he saw before his eyes blinked closed of their own accord.

" Tris... Tris!... hello! Annalise calling princess Cloud Slayer!"

Gasping Tristan's eyes flew open and frantically pushed himself into a seated position, cursing as he forcibly cracked heads with someone.

"Ouw!" Exclaimed a very familiar female voice, causing Tristan's mouth to fly open. " curses Big brother! If I have a bruise from this mother will have both of our heads on a platter!" Red lips contorting in a pained grimace, the brown haired woman got to her feet and brushed off the Silk skirt of her green dress.

Very confused Tristan followed suit, instantly recognizing the horribly familiar feeling of a ladies corset and skirts swishing about his legs."No... This is not right... there was a battle... Bandits!. How are you here? And why in the gods names am I wearing this?"

His little sister, Annalise, Grinde excitedly. "Why it's your wedding day of course!"

"That's not possible!" Tristan gasped, instinctively stumbling back. "I can't be getting married! I left before my betrothing day!"
🖤
Annalise tilted her head and crossed her arms. "Ran away you mean, off to become a knight. Come now Princess, we both know the only place you belong is in your husband's bed, a pretty little accessory popping out babies and solidifying political ties with your virgins blood!"