Prologue
My dearest Tristan,
It has been many months since you left. As the summer approaches, I am reminded of that day we met under the willow tree. That moment seems far away from us now, yet I sometimes find solace under the familiar, swooping branches from the hot summer sun, and I feel as though I understand you more now.
I do not visit often; perhaps it is easier for my mind to visit you in unknown spaces rather than places you once were. It is less painful that way. We really were happy.
There have been many times when I have written your name upon a piece of parchment, but I find myself hesitant about what to say or questioning if you should want to hear from me at all. I do not know why. I do not understand why I doubt you after our promises. These days, I find myself uncertain of everything.
The Great Forest is not what it was. The Queen speaks less of peace, and the wind seems to carry a defence. Even my writing to you feels somewhat treacherous, as the only thing I know to be true is that humans are no longer our allies.
Queen Meredith visits me often. She does not lecture me as she once did; now she asks me questions: what I think, how I feel, and what feels right. I do not know why my opinion is important. She has stopped asking me about my purpose, but I have not stopped wondering.
If it is in the human world, I do not understand Gaia’s timing for my birth. The human world is as unreachable as ever.
I have not visited since your departure, though I am still drawn to it. That has not changed, but the castle has. I can see it when I gaze upon it from the forest canopy, the dark cloud that looms around it. It isn’t perceivable to the eye, yet I am certain of its existence, and I do not wish to go near it. I do not know what happens beyond the safety of the forest, but it feels dangerous to allow myself to indulge in such curiosity.
The centaurs talk of armoured men at the edge of the forest, much like yourself. I believe them to be knights. They watch the forest, but I do not know for what.
Everything feels too quiet. I feel as if any sudden movement could end in tragedy; the forest feels as if it waits for war, and I find myself doing the same.
There have been tremors in the ground, each one more violent than the last. I cannot tell you why, but it is no good sign. The forest groans, and sometimes it wakes me from my nightmares; sometimes I believe that this is the nightmare.
I miss you more than I should allow myself.
I am scared, Tristan. I realise now just how much my heart relied on you for comfort. I miss the safety of your arms, and more than anything, I crave that warmth in my chest to bloom once more, to tell me that you are near. I know it is foolish. You are in Oxmere, and I am here. That is where our duties lie, for now.
I think of you often. I wonder if you have changed, and I selfishly hope you have not. I think I would love you regardless, but that thought terrifies me more. Why can we not let each other go? What if we made a mistake the day we made our vows? But my heart tells me that we did not, and Queen Meredith tells me to trust that feeling, not that I have told her of you. I suppose I never will.
I wonder what your days look like now. Do you feel it too — the darkness? I wonder if it has spread that far throughout the kingdom, or if your priorities have changed so much that you do not notice.
I remember the tales you told of your mother and sisters. I hope that you have happy days with them, and I hope they are healing. You deserve that.
My days in the forest feel endless. I do feel as if I am living less as I am existing. It is exhausting living in constant fear. I remember the words King Luam once said to you, to not fear the unknown but to face it head-on. But it is so much easier said than done. How can I face something that lingers in the shadows?
Summer and autumn are still to pass before your return to the castle. Tell me, Tristan, do you intend to accept King Luther’s offer?
Is it wrong of me to wish you not to?
It was easier under the willow tree. We ignored the distance between us because we could. We became close in other ways, the ways of the soul, and that made dismissing our differences so much easier. We chose each other, and I do not regret it.
But distance has a way of making truths clearer.
I doubt that it is possible to stay neutral during such a time as this. Perhaps you shall understand when you return. I just hope that it is not too late.
I will not resent you if you choose the side of your people, if you choose to support your family as you always have. But in return, you cannot ask me to trust you as you once did.
Noriem is divided more than ever. I wish more than anything for peace, but with King Luther on the throne, I do not know if it is possible in your lifetime.
So, Tristan, my love, I have chosen my side; have you chosen yours?
Perhaps I should not send this letter at all, but if you do receive it, know that I love you.
Even if I’m not by your side, I’m always with you as you are with me, right?
Sincerely,
Your Lyra.
