Tristan sensed the person crouching next to him before he actually opened his eyes. Tristan slowly opened his eyes. Long fingernails dripping with blood greeted his sight. As he raised his eyes he saw a familiar cloth shirt torn and discolored. His vision swam before he could see their face. Blinking hard to bring his sight back into focus, he finally looked into the face of the creature beside him. It was Lancelot, or so he thought. The same facial features, though paler than usual, as Lancelot, and the familiar unruly dark curls, but the eyes were frightfully different. They were the color of the moon at full shine; that didn't worry him. The depths of emptiness did. It was unnerving him to have those soulless eyes focused on him.
"Lancelot?" Tristan asked slowly. The man didn't speak but nodded gravely. Tristan looked over his shoulder. Flames licked the walls and roofs of the huts of the village, which was completely silent. Dead villagers lay on the ground, their eyes open and unseeing, throats viciously ripped open. The fountain was spurting water onto the muddy, blood soaked ground.
"Did you…" Tristan let his sentence drop off.
"No, I only took two." Lancelot said. While he spoke Tristan thought he glimpsed elongated eyeteeth. As if Lancelot knew what Tristan was thinking he pulled back he lips revealing inch long fangs.
"Who…" Tristan didn't seem to be able to find the words he wanted to say.
"My maker, she did this." Lancelot reached for Tristan's wrist. Still unnerved Tristan jerked his wrist away.
"I will not hurt you. I promise." Lancelot raised his nail to his torn shirt and made an X against his skin. Before his eyes Tristan saw the cut flesh heal, Tristan's eyes widened. Yet by seeing the old mark of promise from his homeland calmed him. Lancelot gave a toothy smile as he noticed the change in Tristan, and this time when he reached for Tristan's wrist the scout didn't jerk away.
"Come, we must return to the garrison." Lancelot pulled Tristan to his feet and began walking. As they walked Tristan felt eyes on them; apparently so did Lancelot for he stopped. A man jumped out of the brush with a pike in his hand. Like lightning Lancelot's hand went out and jerked back. The man fell with a hole in his chest. Lancelot held the man's still beating heart in his hand.
"Sorry 'bout that." Lancelot said and turned to continue out of the forest.
"Lance." Tristan said and nodded to the heart when Lancelot turned around. With a half smile Lancelot pitched the heart to the side. As they walked Tristan was stumbling more noticeably. Lancelot was at his side in seconds.
"Are you alright?" Lancelot asked in concern. Tristan nodded. The motion made his head swim causing images to kaleidoscope, making him dizzy and nauseous. When Lancelot tried to help Tristan pushed him away. The blood on Lancelot's hand sent the image of the still beating heart into Tristan's aching head. Tristan dropped to the ground and heaved. Lancelot swore and knelt beside him.
"I'm sorry. This is to much for you, I shouldn't have done that." Lancelot said. Tristan grunted and crawled away. Lancelot sighed and picked up the scout. He made a mental note to check on Tristan's eating habits, he was far to light. Tristan rested his head against Lancelot's shoulder attempting to get his head to stop spinning.
As they reached the outskirts of the barracks Lancelot broke the quiet that had settled. Tristan jumped at his voice.
"Hold me tight, I have to speed up." Tristan didn't understand but as the wind gushed past him he held Lancelot to the point that would quiet possibly crack another man's ribs. Distantly Tristan wondered why Lancelot was moving so fast and how his ribs weren't cracked. He relaxed his grip as he became used to how quickly they were moving, and shut his eyes against the images that sped by. His head hurt and all he wanted now was to sleep.
Lancelot slowed once in Tristan's room. He gently laid the scout on his bed and backed up to give Tristan some space. Now that they had stopped moving the knight was once more looking warily at Lancelot. He decided it would be best to leave. At the door he turned back to Tristan.
"I'm going to leave you now, but I request you keep this secret." Lancelot said as he left. Tristan groaned and rolled over, instantly regretting the action as it made him dry heave, which in turn made his head throb. For a while Tristan laid still, trying to not jump at every little sound. He felt like he was a child again, afraid of the night and the monsters it held. Lancelot looked in a few times through the window, Tristan never saw him. Lancelot focused intently on his jittery friend, imposing his will on the scout's mind to push him to sleep. Drowsiness crept up on Tristan, and despite his best efforts to fight it off; it sank its claws into him in a tight grip
As he fell into a deep sleep a dream attacked his mind. A horse had been galloping in the distance. Flashes of twisted red pain, hugging black isolation, beautiful yellow happiness, and white-hot pleasure assaulted his mind. But the steady beat of galloping hooves reined over the dream. When Tristan woke his dream clung to him like dried blood clinging to his saber. The dream and his memories of the night before merged and tangled together, until he was uncertain as to what was dream and what was reality. His head still throbbed and he felt vaguely sick to his stomach.
He wandered into the stable in a trance-like state, nearly getting trampled by Galahad's horse. He blinked dazedly, suddenly snapping back to the present. Arthur entered the stable and he suddenly remembered the mission they were to go on. He absently rubbed his head and went to finish preparing his horse.
When Bishop Germanius walked into the stable most of the knights visibly tensed but none so much as Lancelot. Tristan walked by him and he noticed how pale the scout was and how he was still unsteady on his feet. "I'll need to keep an eye on him," Lancelot said to himself, feeling somewhat guilty for hurting Tristan.
As the knights and Horton rode out Germanius heard a thought not his own echoing in his head. "Watch your neck Germanius you never know when someone wants to chew on it." Bishop Germanius jumped and glanced apprehensively about. Seeing no one in the stable the Bishop practically ran to the chapel and prayed for a long while.