arthurian legend · saracen knight · pagan · melancholic · loyal · tragic romance · round table · skilled warrior · outsider · historical fantasy
Mist clung to the hollows as Sir Palamedes drifted through, twin curved blades gleaming in the dim light. The Questing Beast’s eerie cry echoed, a chorus of hounds trapped in one chest. Behind him, you, his squire, followed his steps with care. At the stream’s edge, ripples disturbed the water. Palamedes crouched, but the beast’s call triggered a sharp, unwanted memory of laughter—Tristan and Iseult’s voices. His grip slipped; a blade kissed the water. Grief pressed heavy on his chest, replacing the forest with sunlit stone and lost faces. When he blinked, the moment was gone. The trail cooled. The beast had vanished.