Tale of Four

A deafening silence took over. Mabel stared at Tristan as he stared down at the table, drinking his glass of wine and pouring himself another. Her mouth opened and closed numerous times; the words and thoughts she wanted to say got trapped and then lost, replaced by new ones. It must have been all a lie, or a grand story to cheer her up. That was all she could truly believe about such a thing, but seeing the myriad of emotions that he always hid coming to light, she couldn’t be sure.

’Survive and wait.’ That command got trapped in her mind, and slowly she lifted her own glass to her mouth to hide her shock. To her, that could have only meant one thing. ’Something wants him to be king.’ Staring at Tristan, her eyes shook. This wasn’t just treason if said to the wrong person; it was sacrilegious as well. To claim you were divinely ordered by a God for a purpose.

Taking a sip to calm her mind, she met his gaze when he looked up and stared deep into his black eyes. ’If the vote wasn’t what he was waiting for, but another moment for the throne.’ Mabel took a sharp breath. Even if the war hadn’t started, there were at least eight others who came before him, including herself.

Thinking what was needed for that to occur, Mabel shook her head, trying to clear that terrible thought. ’Everyone would have to die. No, it can’t be, surely not.’ Her hand tightened around the glass. ’But Cillian already did.’

"Mabel." Tristan said with a soft voice, seeing her getting lost in her thoughts, "Don’t worry about it too much. Even if I can’t be sure, you don’t need to concern yourself." Putting the glass down, his hands wrapped around the end of the table. Pushing himself back, he looked up and stared into the sky. "All I can do is wait and see."

"You really?" Mabel choked back the words. Compared to him, her concerns and fears felt like nothing now. Even if it was a lie, Tristan wholeheartedly believed it. "Tristan, I’m sorry I have to ask, but did you not try to break free from that?"

"Of course I did." His smile was bitter. "But I don’t even know what I was trying to avoid. As a child, I had looked into things like fate to find out what I experienced. I read whatever I could, looking into numerous different interpretations of fate. Some said the Lord of Creation decided our lives from birth. Others say we are pulled towards fate, but can decide the journey and influence the end." Tristan sighed, "Others say every action we take to fight it has the opposite effect and drags us closer." With a small chuckle, he took a sip. "I gave in. I couldn’t be sure, so all I have done is what it asked. Survive and wait."

Putting the glass down, he grabbed the bottle and poured Mabel another glass, seeing hers empty. "The thing was." Tristan stared into her eyes, "I was alone, and after so long, I wanted soemthing new. So I befriended Edmund." His smile changed, finally showing an ounce of genuine happiness. "At first I did it for my own reason, but it became what it is now. When he gave me the out, to try and avoid whatever it was I was waiting for, I couldn’t accept it, but it stuck with me. That was until the tournament. It wasn’t Cillian’s death nor the face Lady Blackwell made when it happened, but this fortune teller. Annabell said it was impossible for someone to read fate, and yet, before me, it happened, Mabel. Someone knew what I experienced. The fear of not knowing was washed away, confirmed by a man I have never known, nor will see again, and it terrified me more, becuase now I know it is real."

"A fortune teller?" Mabel lifted an eyebrow and leaned closer. What started as his way of comforting her had been flipped, and Mabel couldn’t be happier becuase of it, finding whatever Tristan experienced far more interesting and his own troubles in much more desperate need of comfort. "Those are just tricks done by people who use vague language."

"Edmund said soemthing similar," he chuckled.

"What did they read?" Tristan leaned back and took another sip of his wine. He didn’t need to think to remember; each word said by the old figure was still clear in his mind, something that he was terrified to look deeper into becuase of what it could mean.

"They did two. One for me and one for Edmund. I know Edmund." Like every other time he mentioned Edmund, his gaze and smile softened, "Honestly, he probably forgot it already." Tristan’s smile vanished, replaced with a look of impending horror. "A coward will become brave. Fear will become hope. Light will descend, but the well will have dried." Saying this with a dreadful tone, he looked Mabel in the eyes.

Mabel stared back and saw his anxiety laid clear at what that meant, and quickly pieced together that it was Edmund’s prophecy that she had heard. Thinking it through, she couldn’t be sure what most of it meant, the vagueness of it all. There was only one thing that seemed clear and made her forget to breathe.

’The Well will have dried. No, surely not. That can mean anything, and Wells can always be refilled.’ Even as she tried to comfort herself, she could tell Tristan saw the fears she herself felt.

"Mabel," Tristan said with a smile that tried to hide a dark reality he envisioned, "I had brushed off that prophecy, so caught up in my own. But when I thought about it, it was so clear when added to my own." Biting his lip to stop it quivering, he continued to smile as the last defence available to him, "Edmund... he um... it could have been a joke, but it was a sick joke to tell someone." Grabbing his forehead, Tristan took a deep breath. "We have been exchanging letters, as you know. He’s getting married and is rushing for a child. I want to believe that the prophecy isn’t about Edmund but any child he may have, but I don’t know."

Mabel took a deep breath and hid her own emotion behind the wine glass. Giving herself a moment to put on a strong front again, she lowered the glass and spoke, "It can mean anything, Tristan. A bad harvest for his family, the rivers drying up in his land, a loss of wealth or something like that. It doesn’t have to mean the worst outcome you think."

"I know. Which is why I haven’t fallen into complete despair. A prophecy is one thing. But my own. There was nothing good in what they said." Mabel had nothing to say and watched as Tristan petted Annabell on his side. He did it for a moment and turned his chair to look out at the vast garden, blanketed by the setting sun.

"The sky dims," Tristan said with a heavy tone after a moment. Mabel looked at him, wondering if it was a comment about the sun, but quickly realised it wasn’t- it was his prophecy. "It can mean anything. So many people within the realm are related to the sky in Veston, the Sunflares, for example. It could have also been a warning about the war, a dimming sky on Veston." Tristan pursed his lips. "It could have meant Cillian, a Cosmaton dying that snowballed." Looking back at her, he smiled, "I think the first part has already happened. What scared me was his next words, ones directed at me alone."

Mabel waited for Tristan to get in the headspace to say the words, "Dreams will come true and the worst alongside it." Saying that, Mabel took a deep breath. "I spoke to Edmund once. When I thought about what I wanted, it was easy. To be normal. To have kids. To do soemthing that I want to do, without this command looming over me." Laughing at himself, he took a sip to stop it. "It seems I will get all I want, but there will be a price."

"Of course there will be. You’re a Cosmaton, Tristan. We never get anything free. There will always be people there to try and use us."

"Maybe... maybe." His voice trailed. "He spoke of burden, my burden specifically. That was how I understood this fortune teller knew about my command before birth" His sombre mood changed into one of confusion, "But there was soemthing I could not understand, the final part." Tristan paused for a second, "Praised for what is false. Plagued by what is true." Rubbing his chin, he shook his head, "I have no clue what it means. I have thought about it for so long, and I can’t understand it."

The part intrigued Mabel. Tapping the armrest, she thought in silence, occasionally taking sips of wine, enjoying the bold taste. It was so vague that it could have meant anything, but Mabel found the challenge of deciphering it fun. Numerous theories came to mind, and slowly she dismantled them, realising that all of them made no sense.

From Tristan being hailed as a great warrior despite his lack of skill, to him being the greatest scammer in history, none of it felt right. After all, some of her theories either didn’t seem grave enough to plague Tristan if they came true, or they would have to completely betray who the person she knew was.

"All I can think is that you will do something in the future and everyone will think you did soemthing else." Mabel tilted her head. "The only problem is you will be praised for it, and you will hate it." Looking at Tristan, she chuckled and playfully rested a hand on her chest, lowering her head, trying to cheer him up. "Thank you, Tristan, so much for what you will do."

Rolling his eyes, he laughed and held up a glass, being infected by her wide smile, which bared her teeth. "You’re welcome." Mabel chuckled again and lifted her own glass, tapping it against Tristan’s. The two shared a small drink, the mood suddenly more joyful than it was a second ago. Wishing to keep it, Mabel changed the topic.

"You know, I still can’t believe little Edmund was so bold as to rush his marriage." Tristan laughed and nodded.

"He’s only a year younger than me, Mabel. Hardly little." Mabel shrugged.

"He is too childish for me to think otherwise." The two smiled and giggled, talking about random subjects, carving their way through the remaining wine.

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