The Spirit of A Soul Wronged

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I awoke at dawn to the cracking of a twig. The prince was awake and on his feet, walking into the wood that lay just ten paces from the mouth of the cave. I rose quietly, grabbing my bow, my quiver, and sword. I was curious to see where he was going, and followed behind him quietly, with a distance of about fifteen paces, always out of sight. I was careful to step only where I would not make noise. As I did, I saw the glint of steel seconds before Arthur did. A man jumped from a tree down onto where Arthur stood, but his battlecry was cut short as an arrow embedded itself into his heart. Arthur spun around as the man hit the ground with a thud, looking for the one whom had shot the arrow.

" Come out, I know you're there." Arthur demanded. I stepped out of the cover of the large tree, lowering my hood. His posture relaxed, and he stowed his sword.

" Why are you following me?" He demanded, stepping towards me.

" I was curious. And as you yourself said, these woods hold many dangers. One should not walk them alone." I replied calmly.

" One also should not follow another without their permission." Arthur snapped.

" I find it is often better to ask for ones forgiveness than for their permission, in events such as this." I murmured quietly.

" I think you will find that should you wish to keep your head on your shoulders, you will ask permission next time." Arthur retorted. I said nothing.

" My apologies, milord."

" Well, come on then. No use sending you back now." Arthur muttered, and I followed him through the wood to a brook. He filled his waterskin, taking a sip of it, and I did the same with my own.

" Why did you want to come on this quest?" Arthur asked, looking up from the brook.

" I thought it would be more interesting than baking bread and mending shirts." I replied.

" No, really. Why?" He asked, seemingly intrigued. I shrugged.

" I have always wanted more from life than what I was born into. I have no desire to perfect my embroidery skills, nor to spend my days cooking, cleaning or mending. I find the activities, that most women find captivating, devastatingly boring. But this..." I trailed off, gesturing around me, " This is exciting. It is interesting and new. It holds purpose, and I enjoy it. Admittedly, I can imagine more pleasant things that being shot in the arm with an arrow, but even that is a new experience. I want to make a difference, for my life to mean something..., and I feel as though by doing this, it is possible for that to happen." I replied, and Prince Arthur was silent for a moment.

" Forgive me if I am mistaken, but are you not the girl who was a servant to Lady Amantha several months ago?" He asked.

" I am."

" So you are the girl who spilled wine all over Sir Bardwin's lap?"

" Err, yes. Accidentally." I replied, colour rising to my cheeks.

" If someone had asked me if I thought the same clumsy servant girl was capable of wielding a sword, I would have laughed them out of Calber. And yet, here you are." Arthur commented. I said nothing, though as I looked around, I began to wonder exactly what kind of place this was. Colourful strips of fabric were tied to branches, bushes, and tethers between trees.

" Where exactly are we?" I asked, and Arthur look dup at me from splashing the cold water of the brook onto his face.

" What do you mean?" He asked, puzzled.

" Look around...What is this place?" I asked quietly, and Arthur glanced up, taking in the fine details of our surroundings.

" We shouldn't be here. Lets go. Quickly, and take care not to touch anything." Arthur spoke quietly, an eerie calm to his voice that hid a tone I did not recognize. We left the area of the wood quickly, making it back to the camp just as the others had begun to wake.

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