“To the elf city of Oes’hira.”
They continued to follow the passageway until the glow faded, leaving them at the entrance to the city. Two armed elves guarded the entrance.
Trystan noted their appearance. He’d never seen elves before so he’d had no idea what to expect. The two guards were nearly identical, with their black hair dusting their shoulders, dull gray skin, and gold eyes.
“What is your business here?” one of the guards demanded as they approached.
“I am Lord Emrys Wyllt, and my companions are Marc and Trystan. It is of utmost importance that we speak with Queen Mysel as soon as possible.”
“You may pass. Wait near the fountain. One of the Queen’s advisors will meet you there and escort you further.”
As they entered, Trystan’s gaze fell on the tree towering in the middle. It looked very much like the ones in the forest above, but this one was still full of life. He admired the exquisite craftsmanship of the city architecture all around him. It was intricate and beautiful.
“My lords,” came a calm voice, to which all three of them turned. “I am Aisling, one of the Queen’s advisors. She will see you now. Please follow me.”
Aisling escorted them to the throne room. Queen Mysel sat patiently, awaiting their arrival. To her left stood another elf, seemingly younger. The elf queen motioned for the guards to vacate the room, leaving only the six of them.
“Aisling,” the Queen said. “Go and find Teleri, and ask that she join us.”
“Yes, my lady,” she replied, and left the room promptly.
“My lords,” Mysel said, her eyes narrowed and focused. “Your presence here is disturbing, though expected.”
“Your Grace,” Emrys replied, bowing before her. Marc and Trystan followed his lead.
The Queen tilted her head, her scrutinizing glare locked on Emrys. “You seem familiar to me. Tell me who you are,” the Queen commanded in a gentle, yet curious, tone.
“My name is Emrys Wyllt of Loegria. With me are Marc, Prince of Loegria, and his husband, Trystan.”
The Queen rose from her seat. Her sheer, royal blue gown brightened her ashen skin. Long, black hair fell over the front of one shoulder as Mysel stepped down and walked closer to the three of them, examining each man for a long moment.
“Now. Tell me who you really are.”
Trystan cast a discreet, sideways glance at Emrys, hoping he would know how to answer the elf queen’s question.
“Your Grace, I am also known by some as Myrddin of Camelot and Artiryn.”
Before he could continue further, the wooden chamber doors opened. Aisling and another elf woman entered the room, closing the door behind them. Trystan could only assume that this was Teleri, whom the Queen had called for when they’d first entered. Both elves crossed the room and stopped near the Queen.
“Myrddin... I remember you a little from my childhood, before we were driven down here by your king.”
Aisling whispered into Mysel’s ear. “He carries the sword, Your Grace.”
Mysel momentarily glanced over at Marc then back to Myrddin. “There is more to your two companions as well, is there not?”
“My lady, I did not wish to deceive you in any way, but it was necessary for me to ensure Trystan’s protection. Marc is exactly who I’ve stated him to be. Trystan, however, is much more.”
Emrys paused for a moment.
“He is the son of Arthur and Guinevere, heir to the throne of Camelot, and the one true king of Loegria.”
Teleri gasped quietly. As quiet as she was, Emrys still heard her. He glanced over at her, and then turned his eyes back to the Queen.
“Why are you here?” Mysel asked, maintaining a soft and calm tone.
“We need your help, Your Grace,” Emrys said. “Morgaine has returned to once again claim the throne of Camelot and Loegria. I know she will bring forth a terrible army, and even with all the forces in Loegria fighting against her, I’m afraid it will not be enough.”
“Why should we help you defeat her? Especially after what his father did to our home, and the pain and suffering it has caused us all these years.”
