Tristan waited alone in the darkness, listening to the mare's laboured breathing. Her thoughts were scattered whispers hopelessly caressing the edges of his mind. He tried to focus on them, eager to keep his ghosts away, but they were too fleeting, too distant to help him. She barely recognised the bubble of the brook, or the call of an owl; she was slipping away into the dark.

He stands in the tower room, blood on his shirt, his father leaning against the trunk on his left. Arthur's face is drawn, pale, dark shadows are forming under his eyes. His breath seems to crackle. A sword slices through the air towards him.

He reached out and set his hand against the unicorn's neck, trying to use what remained of her warmth to ground himself. His mouth felt dry, and panic burned under his clammy skin. It was too dark to see where the whiskey bottle had fallen...Taking a deep breath he sets his other hand into the brook and focuses on the wet and the cold, on the current brushing against his skin.

The mare puffed, her flesh trembling beneath his fingers.

Tristan looks down at his trembling hands. They're slippery, stained red with blood. He's released his grip on the grip of his father's sword. Gaze slipping past his hands, he sees it protruding from the pirate's torso. Fear gives way to nausea as he stumbles backwards, clutching at his stomach, as the pirate's death rattle fills the corridor.

His mouth filled the with acidic taste of vomit, another memory, another ghost sent to haunt him. Tristan snatched his hand out of the brook and peered at it. It was clean, the flesh pale and unblemished, the knuckles a little rough. There wasn't any blood, not this time.

Where was that whiskey bottle?

Pressing the heel of hand to his forehead Tristan tried to catch the mare's thoughts again. He received a single image, of a section of thicket, and feels a sudden rush of protectiveness, of affection. Tristan frowned.

The grasses shook, sending a rustle echoing through the gloom. Celidon emerged first, carrying the lantern between his teeth. He stops short and fixed Tristan with a concerned look. The prince avoided his familiar's gaze, and stared back down at the unicorn sadly. His heart pounded against his ribs; he felt like he'd run a marathon in the short time the cu-sith had been away.

Thoth's cursing offers an anchor for him to hold onto, and Tristan reached for it. He removed his coat from the mare's head as Thoth approached. Celidon followed after him, throwing the light of the lantern over the unicorn's once-beautiful coat. Tristan stepped back to give his friend room to work.
"She's been quiet," he said. His voice sounded strangely in his ears, it didn't sound quite right. Tristan shook his head. "I'm not getting anything from her." Tristan taps his temple with his finger to add meaning to his words and then turns away, wading through the grasses. The thicket hadn't felt far away, she wouldn't have strayed far.

Leaving the golden glow of the lantern with Thoth, Tristan jumped the trunk of a felled tree, sunken into the forest floor. He pressed on, picking his way carefully over the uneven ground. And then he paused, focusing on the small, pitiful noise a little to his left. He adjusted his course, heading in the direction the sound had come from. His eyes picked out the thicket amongst the darkness of the trees and he edged closer. Pulling apart a bramble patch he peered further into the bushes.

Two foals lay side by side, their necks entwined; one noticeably darker than the other, their tiny horns pointing up at the moon peering down through the trees. Tristan's stomach shifted. He could sense their fear. They wanted to know where there mother had gone, why she had left them. He found himself gripped by the uncomfortable heat again.
"I'll be back," he promised them, putting the brambles back to keep them hidden and feeling safe. Picking his way back through the forest, Tristan found his way back to Thoth.

He couldn't hear the mare breathing anymore, the rattle had gone. He tried to find her mind, but that too had fallen silent.
"She's gone?" he asked, seeking confirmation. At Thoth's side, Celidon dropped his head sadly.
"Come with me," Tristan said.



Tristan
_{the only thing left are the stars}