Misty looked out the window of her room. Her eyes red and puffy. Two braids, formed into balls on either side of her head, were completed with the rest of her raven black hair fallen down her waist, curling at the ends some.

A baby’s wail pierced her ears, shattering her heart more. Followed by another piecing cry. Two assistants, or rather her best friends…well, hers and her husband, came forward with each child. To think such a word as ‘husband’ would bring grief, and more tears to her eyes. She took the girl from his old friend. Jod. He didn’t shed any tears, although she saw the brokenness in his eyes, felt it in his spirit. She forced a smile and looked down at her daughter. Their daughter. She had his eyes. And she immediately looked away from her chubby, tear stained face. She cast her eyes on her son. Their son. He inherited his father’s scowl, and her black hair. Of course he would. But he had her eyes.

“Misty, sweetie, we need to leave here…” she said.

Vera. Her sister from another mother. She rocked him gently.

“Yes…Tristan-” He couldn’t finish speaking. Just saying his former friend’s name brought on a fresh wave of pain, and guilt. If only he had listened. Been there for him. If only he had just listened to him!

Her lip quivered, and a sob escaped Misty’s lips. The man she had fallen for, allowed to break every rule in her book, allowed to touch her, was no more. Was gone.

“Jod…take her…” she said.

He swiftly did so, as he watched her collapse and cup her face.

“My…husband…” She wept into her hands. “How…how could he let that man…that fiend twist his thinking!”

“No…” Jod breathed. “Tristan is too powerful to let any man twist his thinking-he…he wanted this…”

Just with him saying that sent swords through his soul. His own logic. That was the one thing he feared about his former friend. No man could turn Tristan. They could only play on what he already wanted. Add fuel to the flame, as the saying went. Say something, or do something, that would ignite his already lit up passion.

“I know it hurts…I know it does…” Vera said, a lump forming in her throat. “But…you’re a mother now, Misty…you have to go into hiding. A place where Tristan can’t reach you, can’t feel you…”

She continued sobbing.

“The children…they need to be safe. The counselor…he will want the children, more so for himself than for Tristan…” Vera continued on.

“Vera is right…” Jod said. “The babies, they are strong already, and it would help if they were actually separated, but…well, as a mother, I would think you’d want both your children with you at all times…”

Misty removed her hands, and stared at the horizon. The setting sun. She had only given birth three days ago. Due to her accelerated healing abilities, which weren’t as strong as usual, as she was tempted to throw her life away, she was nonetheless, back to full strength. Physically at least. She didn’t know how long she would last though. The thought of waking up alone in her bed. To feel coldness on one side, instead of her husband’s warmth. His breath on skin. His lips on her cheek, or crook of her neck. His gentle jabs that would cause her to laugh. And then their most intimate gestures. The very ones that now caused two beautiful children to exist. To feel safe. She didn’t feel safe anymore. Not with herself, and not with her husband, and that one thought plagued her mind again and again. If her husband could not? Then who could? She blinked, and wiped her eyes. Her strength. Her strength is what always guided her. And it was proven time and time again.

She sniffed, and stood up. “We leave tonight. Go East. To Moldav.”

They gasped.

“But Misty-!” Jod began.

“NO!” she said. She looked at him. “That’s the only place…” She swallowed thickly. “That’s the only place Tristan will not step onto…” She looked back out the window. “The only place he won’t think to look…” She said.

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“But once he has exhausted every place else, he’ll have to come there…” Vera said, still rocking him. He was a fussy child, like his father at times.

“Yes, but it won’t be for a while. Even if he figures I went there, he has to emotionally prepare himself to even step foot on that land.” Misty said. “And I want my children safe. Able to grow up in peace, and to train without interference.”

“That’s even if we get there in one piece! Even off the ship!” Jod exclaimed, causing the girl to wail some. He looked down and gently rocked her.

“It’s done. My decision is final.” She said, turning away.

Vera, always the one to throw in her friend’s face less important matters, although it kind of was one.

“Misty?” she said.

“Yes, Vera?” she said, sitting down on the foot of the bed.

“You still haven’t named these precious little ones.” She looked at the boy and girl.

“I have, actually. I just didn’t tell you.” She said.

“Oh?” she said, walking toward her. Her chestnut hair swaying some as she walked.

She looked at her son. “His name is Tristan Maurice Whilder the II.”

A scoff actually escaped Jod’s lips.

“You gotta be kidding me! What a way to add salt to the wound Misty!” Vera complained.

Misty smiled, and then looked at her daughter. “That Angel’s name is Abigail Mistyke Whilder.”

Vera hiccupped. “You would name her that! That was what he wanted to name her!”

“And I will keep his wish.” Misty said, looking out the window once again. “The ‘Tristan’ I knew is no more, but the part of him that gave me light, happiness, is in them.” She looked at her babies. “I didn’t conceive them with the man called ‘Tristan the Dark Lord’. I did with Tristan Maurice Whilder.” She stood up, and took her son in her arms. “The man who annoyed me, and made me burnt pancakes with a sad face on them because he couldn’t cook when I was upset.” She smirked. “The man that taught me that it’s okay to fall in love…” The boy looked up into his mother’s eyes. “And that its okay to feel pain, because that’s what makes us stronger…”

“He’s also the man that always had a prank up his sleeve.” Vera took Abigail from Jod’s arms.

Jod folded his arms. “The man that always had a brother’s back.” He chuckled.

Misty watched the sun become almost hidden now, but its rays still shinning over Weycliff.

“The man who’s your daddy.” She said. “And he always will be.” She reached out a finger, and he latched onto it with his whole hand. His grip was strong.

They all looked out the window, knowing it would be the last, and if not last time in Weycliff, a very long time before they returned.

***

Elsewhere, on the jagged cliffs of Stagden, a castle, tall and grand stood. Ominous to its onlookers, despite the tan and brown colors of it. Despite the crystal windows, and chandeliers that adorned the place, evil lurked there. In the form of a man sitting on a throne. His face concealed beneath a hood. On another, right beside him, sat a man. Crimson hair fell down his shoulders. Head in his hand, he leaned into it, and had his eyes closed, one leg over the other, and a lethal blade over his lap. His father’s blade as a matter of fact. He knew the decision he had made would break his heart, and his mother’s. But mostly hers. His love.

Yes, he had the cool face of death, and indifference. But his heart. Well, there wasn’t one in place anymore, it had been shattered. The one woman he had risked everything for, was not by his side. His seed. His children. We’re not with him. And they never would be, he knew. They couldn’t be. He was in a dangerous game of cat and mouse now. Contrary to everyone’s popular belief, this was always his plan. To become evil. To serve his dark lord. And then to slay him. So that his world would be free. Free from the very evil that lurked at everyone’s door at night. And then maybe, maybe, if he was not too far gone, he could return to the light. He prayed so. He had been discreetly following his beloved’s trace. She was getting further and further away from him though, and that scared him. Where was she going? Where was she taking his children? And then it hit him, as he knew the counselor would have him searching every rock and crevice known to man for his children. Moldav.

He hid his surprise, and oncoming anger and betrayal, but he did manage smile to himself. That woman went to the one place she knew he wouldn’t step down on. At least for as long as possible.

It was also the one place that those with evil in them could not go. There was a barrier within that place. Once inside, all ties would be cut off from him. It would take a great amount of negative energy to penetrate it, and that’s if you could withstand its purity.

He opened his eyes. They were once a honey brown, but now they were a dull green.

“Something on your mind?” His lord asked, seeming to have eyes everywhere on his face.

“No, my lord. Just thinking.” He responded, his voice calm.

“About what?” he asked.

“My wife’s betrayal.” He said.

“Betrayal?” He said.

“Yes, the woman has done something she shouldn’t have, although in her case, it makes the most sense.”

“And what would that be?” he asked.

Tristan stared dead ahead at the closed doors of the throne room, not afraid of his lord. “That is my concern, my lord.”

He turned to his dark lord, or knight, as he was now. “So the games begin again?”

Tristan cast his eyes upon him. He looked into the face of blackness, reminding him of the grim reaper. “The game has never ended, my lord.”

His eyes flashed red, and he laughed.

Tristan chuckled to himself, and closed his eyes once again. But it will, one day.