“I’m sorry I’m slowing you down.” He confessed as they made their way through the changing trees following Cel. He watched them with odd fascination, Tristan said that the trees helped him, but Grayson hadn’t understand what he meant by that till now. At first he didn’t know if he’d ever get used to them but his apprehension soon turned to general acceptance and he found the transition quite natural.

A sigh of relief escaped him as Tristan said they were nearly there. His strength was quickly fading and his breathe had become increasingly ragged as he struggled. Now armed with the knowledge that they were approaching their final destination he nodded and was able to muster a renewed sense of vigor. His anxiety began to creep up on him, but he willed it into submission, at least for the moment.

He hadn’t known what to expect. When they stepped out of the undergrowth and into camp he inhaled sharply. His blue eyes attracted to the colors of the hand painted tents. Most of what was painted on them was foreign to Grayson, and it unsettled him. In that moment, he came to grasp just how long it had been since he had disappeared. A frown tugged at the corners of his face and it only deepened with confusion. Tristan tugged him, leading him into the camp and towards an unmarked and rather plain white tent. Amongst the others it stood out like a sore thumb, he didn’t know if that was intentional or not, and made a mental note to question him about it later. There were more pressing matters, or rather many questions that were left unanswered between the two of them. Questions and answers they’d both no longer be able to avoid.

He felt the familiar bubbling in his stomach, this time it wasn’t because of hunger.

Grayson set on the bed, He groaned as he started to rub the soreness out of his muscles. When Tristan pulled out a blanket for Era, she accepted it graciously and curled herself onto it. Grayson felt the slightest smile creep on his lips before it once again turned somber. Looking at her reminded him of everything; everything he didn’t wanted to talk about, everything he wanted or didn’t want to remember, and everything that was going on at the current moment. He glanced around the tent causing him to shift around uncomfortably. It was all so....different, and yet the same.

Fortunately he wasn’t left with his thoughts for long as Tristan tossed him a bag of food that he started to rummage through. As he did, he heard the sound of a cork popping and looked up to see Tristan opening a bottle of Brandy. At first, his brows furrowed and he wrinkled his nose, it was just so unexpected. Sure, as a child he had watched adults consume what was dubbed as an “adult beverage” the effects of which caused them to act silly. Grayson hesitated before curiosity finally overcame him, shrugging his shoulders he lifted the bottle out of Tristan’s hand. Taking a swig, the immediate burning sensation and putrid taste caused him to spew the contents across the room. “By the gods…” he muttered under his breathe, he shook his head and hastily passed it back to Tristan, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his shirt. “That’s fricken poison that is…” he blurted as Tristan took another swig from the bottle.

At the mention of his own tent Era’s dark ears perked up, her brown eyes shifted up to Grayson curiously. Grayson took a deep breath and nodded at Tristan as he set the bag of food aside. Tristan’s next words brought the dark cloud that had been looming over him to rumble. Sighing heavily, Era gently brushed the edge of his mind to help soothe the anxiety that was now swelling inside of him and bubbling over. “I’m glad to be back, especially with you.” In all honesty the rest of his statement fell on deaf ears, because he didn’t quite understand its meaning, how could you possibly know someone too well? Even with Grayson’s age, he was still young and unexperienced in a vast number of ways.

Grayson crossed his hands in his lap and a shudder ran over him as he sorted his thoughts. He had so many questions, almost too many. But Grayson was afraid to ask him, afraid to ask why they were in tents and seemingly camping out in the middle of the woods. What was wrong with the castle? Where was Tristan’s father? Where was Thoth, Saffron and Nimmy? But Grayson knew he couldn’t ask these questions, at least not yet….”Tristan…” His tone was serious even as he faltered unable to complete his words when what Tristan said to him on the beach rang through his mind. Grayson needed to be brave for what came next. “I-I….I don’t.”

His hands unclasp as they rose to his face his fingers pressed against his eyes hoping to stop the sting of rushing tears. How does someone even begin to explain their disappearance? He offered the only explanation he had, “I was taken; I was taken from the castle.” He shuddered again, remembering the night and nothing but the darkness that seemed to follow it. “I don’t remember anything. I…” The words fell flat, “I don’t know what happened to me or how I even got this way.” He ran his hands through his unkept auburn hair nervously several times, his eyes red and hazy and actively avoided his friends gaze. He didn't want to lie to his friend, even by omission. Grayson knew who had taken him, the man in the black leather boots, a man with no real name, that was a story he hadn’t ever shared with his friend. He wasn't ready to say that out loud, at least not yet for fear of his sanity. He had to see Tristan’s reaction first, maybe he could offer some explaination but Grayson doubted it.

The feeling was strange, like a weight that was lifted off of him, but what was left was still emptiness and fear for what was to follow. He knew his road would be long and treacherous, he just hoped he’d come out the other end whole.

Grayson