The village was filled with nothing but memories, of a past that seemed so haunting that it was practically reliving every day. That grave over there, was the exact place where he first kissed her. That house, that empty sorrowful house with dirt floors, rings with the laughter of a missed Family. Everything was painted everyday, with the renewal of grief.

"The Poor Girl" the women muttered. Some even stated Salome's most inner thoughts "She has nothing left on this earth, the poor soul" but then others contradicted the sad fact. "She has her people"

Yes, her people, and their freedom to fight for. But it was almost won, the Roman Empire was coming to an end, everyone knew it. The Romans were leaving Briton soon. So what then? Everything she's been fighting for all her life, would be safe and settled. What family did she have to enjoy freedom with? Arto's family didn't even count now in her mind, with him gone, the future connection to his family, was invalid. She viewed herself as solitary, with her people breathing down her back to be happy, but without the family to support such an emotion.

"Salome!... Salome!" A man's voice called out. The voice was trailing all over the village, in an obvious search for the silent woman that would give no response, so that really there was no point in calling out her name.

She didn't show herself, but curled onto the ground, the rise of the grave being her cover. She felt like a child, playing hide and go seek, ironically, the game she used to play with the man interred in the ground next to her.

"Still, she does not speak?" the man asked in a undertone to a village woman, witnessing the search.

"No, she doesn't voice out anything. Her thoughts, or whereabouts..." the woman said with a sad look on her face.

"How long will this illness be fallen upon her?" he asked concerned.

"That is the thing... the medicine woman said that the fever has already been lifted, due to her remedies and directed bed rest."

"Then how is it she is still silenced?"

"I don't know..."

"This is getting ridiculous. If she is healed, she is to act normal and speak" he commanded

"I too. It is only Guinevere who thinks that she should be left silent."

The man grunted.

"And why would she think something like that? Her tongue is not cut out"

"Yes, but Guinevere sides with Salome. When the time comes, she will speak on her own." the woman said, quoting exactly what Guinevere said.

"And why hasn't the time come? There have been plenty of times. I've been on her for a week, calling out for her, trying to finally get her to clean the blood off her swords. Not only is she silent, but she's slipping from her everyday life and tradition."

"That's another thing...Guinevere pardons Salome's actions of withdrawal...she says they are understandable, and that if Salome doesn't want to speak, she shouldn't, after all, she has no one important enough to speak to" the woman said, hoping for her equal not to shoot the messenger.

"All her people are important enough, and she has been silenced around all of us. It is unacceptable, and when I get my hands on that girl, she will finally break her voice free or it will be her tongue and then she'll really be silenced for good" the man said in frustration.

"Guinevere suggests we leave her be." the woman said.

"Yes, well Guinevere is not here. We are saving a girl from being lost, that is all. Her voice is influential to our people, she who has suffered so much loss. Her whole family gone for our freedom, and still she fights. If she is silenced, there is no more hope, and we are so close to victory."

"Yes, but shouldn't a heroine of our people be treated with space?" the woman asked sympathetically.

"We are a tribe raging a war for our benefit, we need to be tied tightly together, whenever was there space? All we are, are Warriors, and we were put into silence enough, which is why we fight. We, don't need anymore silence. We need our war cries heard".

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The scream of a great pain still echoed in his ears, as her blurred image rocked back and forth through the reflection of his sword. This woman plagued his dreams last night, and she still spread throughout his mind during the day. The pain depicted from the dream and image itself, was so strong that it broke through his cold exterior and actually got to him on the inside. He felt panic, pain, loss, and a certain attraction to the girl who's face wasn't completely clear. The blurred image seemed of great beauty. The reason why he couldn't stop thinking about it. Almost as if it was a trap.

Tristan ran his fingers over the smooth silver blade, ridding any missed dried specks of blood or dirt. It was time to finally put his sword away for a while, which was a heartbreak within itself. No more fighting...what to do next.

It was lonesome in the stables, but the feeling was nothing new to the scout. It did not bother him one bit. If anything, he would feel uncomfortable if it was filled. He enjoyed the solitary feeling around him. His thoughts were his own personal company which he rather appreciated, since after all, they were controlled by him.

He continued to lead his thoughts into the path of what would come next in his life. If he should continue the path to the black rode, or if he should seek a little light. But every time a solution became a solid suggestion, he was distracted. His thought trail kept twisting on him, straight into the direction of that dream. He ran his fingers through his black braided hair, to calm himself down and regain the control, but wasn't able to. The image, dream and reoccurring thoughts that followed, must of been from another force, because there was no way he could pause or stop them. The dial control wasn't under his fingers, and it frustrated him to no end.

He got to his feet, and decided to walk it off. Surely something outside of the solitary stable would distract him enough. It upset him a bit that he had to break out of his reverie in order to fix his head, but it had to be done or else he would slam his head through a door to rid the annoying thoughts that kept coming.

As soon as he slid the doors open, indeed did he become distracted. It seemed all the villagers were out in their small village square between the palace and Hadrian's wall. He worked his way through the crowd, preferably not speaking to anyone but his knights.

His mouth was not opened until his climbed the stairs onto the wall. There, the vast Saxon army, and the thought if he would stay to fight or leave, had become his greatest distraction.

The dream's elements did not return.

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The wall separated the north from the south. Even with the Saxons south of the wall, the presence on an enemy became known through the unceasing noise from the Roman village and beyond. The gifted, only sensed something was wrong.

When the only beholder of solid news came north of the wall, her village was filled with anticipation to hear it.

Guinevere stood silent until she spoke with Merlin, it was then they made their way to the center of the village.

"The Saxon has arrived" Merlin announced.

The response was different than that if it were Romans that arrived for battle. This response contained a small amount of fear in their silence. However, fear only silenced them for a second, as their bravery soared, and soon, their cries were of masked excitement for the coming day.

"We will lead a vast attack, but under a different leader." Guinevere informed.

The village grew silent in puzzlement, looking from Guinevere and Merlin for an explanation.

"Arthur, will lead you in this battle" Merlin said, reading their confusion.

The village questioned and muttered a bit, but did not dare to disagree with their leader up-front.

"What of the Sarmatian Knights?" a young man asked, catching the particular attention of Salome.

"They are no longer in service. They are free to go home. It's most unlikely they would want to stay to fight our battle to protect our land." Guinevere said truthfully.

Salome's interest, guiltily dropped. The excitement of Freedom was now theirs. But what of her freedom to come? Without him dying at her hands, she couldn't set her soul free to wander...