Chapter Text
You yourself don't know who you are,
the shooter, who lost his soul...
Jasvena
In the cave, on the altar lay some object. Robin approached cautiously to get a closer look.
In the dim light of the torches, he saw a wreath, but the flowers and oak leaves were forged from some kind of light metal, it seems silver, and adorned with precious stones.
A beautiful and majestic woman stepped out of the darkness, and it seemed to Robin that he had already seen her, but could not remember where and under what circumstances. And while he looked at her with surprise and admiration, his father followed her out of the depths of the cave. The Horned One said nothing, only smiled.
A man in a dark cloak knelt down beside him, but it was not clear who it was - his face was hidden by a hood pulled down low
The woman took that wreath off the altar and walked right up close. And then she took Robin by the hand and led him out of the cave. They were going to those ancient stones, and the sun was rising over the forest, and birds were singing everywhere.
There, under the shade of the sacred oaks guarding the cromlech, Herne was already waiting for them. He raised his hands in blessing. And the woman raised the wreath to place on Robin's head.
Suddenly there was a slight whistle, and a crossbow bolt pierced into the trunk of an oak tree. A piercing scream came from afar, and the smell of burning and blood, brought by a gust of wind, hit Robin's face. The stones disappeared, and he himself was suddenly in the middle of the forest, surrounded by rapidly approaching shadows. Instinctively reaching for Albion on his belt, he saw that his hands were covered in blood up to the elbow...
Robin opened his eyes. His heart was pounding and aching, and sweat trickled down his face. What's going on?
He looked into the darkness for a long time and listened to the sounds of the summer night, gradually coming to his senses. But he could not understand what he saw in a dream..
It was especially embarrassing that in two days Litha was the sacred holiday of Midsummer. A bad dream could turn out to be prophetic, it could very well. And from this, Robin became frankly uncomfortable. To distract from painful thoughts, he bent over the peacefully sleeping Marion and kissed her.