“She has a gift when it comes to animals.”
“Theywereraised together.”
Myrddin nodded. “Which is why that wolf is so fiercely protective of her. That wolf is her dragon.”
The two men headed back toward the home they’d shared for several years after leaving Vilsir to start a life in the northwest of Loegria, not too far from Myrddin’s childhood home of Tref Eira. Trystan had trouble remembering the details, but shortly after settling here in the foothills of the Tylluan Mountains, Trystan had found the half-starved one-year-old girl and wolf-pup near the river, along with the deceased body of whom he’d presumed was the child’s mother.
Emma and Artemis had been living with them ever since.
Myrddin went hunting while Emma tended the vegetable garden and fed the chickens. Trystan resumed working on the fur and leather boots he’d started for Emma. She would need a new pair in the coming months.
As Trystan worked by the fire, a glint caught his eye. He blinked and glanced toward the shimmer. From behind a small rack of furs and pelts, a sword fell out and its hilt hit the compacted dirt floor with a soft thud.
“What…?” Trystan set down the boot he was working on and walked toward the sword. Something seemed familiar about the simple long sword, but whatever it was escaped him. Still curious, Trystan gripped the hilt and lifted the weapon. A pale green light flickered across the blade and strange markings etched into the metal began to glow.
Wake up, Trystan.
A voice whispered in the space around him. Trystan dropped the sword, his heart nearly pounding out of his chest.
“Da?”
Trystan jumped and spun around. “By the Gods’ blood, Emma. You startled me.”
“Da, are you all right? Your face is blanched.”
“Yes, bug, I am.” Trystan picked up the sword again. The blade appeared smooth and plain. “I’m only trying to remember where this came from.”
“You tell me that bedtime story all the time.”
“I do?”
“Yes, Da. About my great-grandfather. He was a knight in the king’s army before he died. You said that was his sword.”
Trystan recalled the vague and distant memory. Stories told to him by his father when he was young. Only, something about the memory didn’t feel right.
“Are these my new boots?” Emma ran her hand over the soft fur lining that would wrap the inside of her boot.
“Uh.” Trystan gave his head a slight shake. “Yes, bug. I should have them finished soon.” He set the sword in the corner from where it had fallen and went back to work.
***
“Bug is asleep with Artemis. I think they are both worn out from their first hunt. She cannot wait to go again.” Myrddin pulled Trystan into a quick embrace and pecked his lips. “Our little girl is going to be a great hunter someday. Perchance even an archer in the king’s army.”
Trystan gave him a scrunched, half-hearted smile as Myrddin pulled away.
“What’s wrong, angel?”
“Have you noticed anything strange as of late?” Trystan asked as he removed his boots.
“As in what?” Myrddin asked as he stripped his clothing away.
Trystan finished undressing and sat on the edge of the raised bed, its wool-stuffed linens soft beneath his buttocks. The bed ropes creaked as Myrddin sat beside him in the nude as well.
“I don’t know.” Trystan sighed, tilting his head back, his eyes closed. “Memories, I suppose.”
“What do you mean?”
Trystan stared down at his hands. “I’m having difficulty recalling details of things I should know. Several days ago, I picked up my grandfather’s sword and could not remember where it had come from. Emma had to remind me. And I’ve been unable to remember any details of our journey from Vilsir to here.”
