My Family in the Novel?

"Are you okay?"

Tristan knelt down on one knee, his concern evident in his eyes as he examined the fallen woman meticulously.

His gaze fell upon her bloodied back and arm, prompting him to swiftly remove the thick gloves he wore. With a determined expression, he extended his hands towards her.

A gentle, white-golden light emanated from his palms, enveloping her wounds and initiating their healing process.

"Y-you're a priest?" Mavis queried, her voice tinged with perplexity.

The presence of a priest was a rare sight, especially considering the grim fate that befell those associated with the Church of Light in the northern regions—executions, rapes, and torture at the hands of demons.

"Not exactly, but I'm not a paladin either," Tristan responded casually, his focus remaining on the task of healing her injuries.

Despite Tristan's kind gestures, Mavis couldn't shake the feeling of suspicion.

His admission of not belonging to the ranks of paladins or priests left his allegiance ambiguous.

Given her precarious situation, she knew she couldn't afford blind trust, even towards those offering assistance.

Tristan's hands hovered near Mavis's cheek, his touch gentle yet purposeful as he examined the telltale signs of corruption etched across her skin like sinister tendrils.

Sensing his approach, Mavis instinctively recoiled, a reflex born from both fear and the lingering effects of her mana depletion.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice tinged with apprehension as she attempted to retreat from his reach.

But her weakened body betrayed her, immobilized by the relentless strain of her magic expenditure. Despite her wariness, she remained vigilant, acutely aware of the potential threat Tristan posed.

"I'm sorry, miss, but there were signs of corruption near your cheek," Tristan explained earnestly, his tone carrying a note of sincerity that momentarily softened Mavis's defenses.

"Is that so..." she murmured, though inwardly she chastised herself for her exaggerated reaction. After all, it was Tristan's unexpected touch that had startled her, not his intentions.

Yet, despite her attempts to rationalize, doubt lingered like a shadow in her mind.

Tristan remained a mystery to her, a stranger whose motives remained obscure.

Though his handsome features and gentle demeanor suggested innocence, what he did to that orc just a while ago was anything but gentle…

Mavis couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that lurked beneath the surface, of his kind like gestures…

'Does he want something?'

Judging from his actions that doesn't seem to be the case.

In a world teeming with deceit and betrayal, trust was a luxury she couldn't afford, especially when confronted with someone whose true allegiance remained shrouded in uncertainty.

'Could he be one of the few remaining slave traders, masquerading as a savior to exploit her for profit?'

Mavis pondered, briefly entertaining the unsettling notion before dismissing it altogether. If Tristan harbored such nefarious intentions, she reasoned, she would have already fallen victim to his machinations.

'I wouldn't be conscious right now if that was the case…'

After all, her ethereal beauty, which rivaled even Tristan's own, would have surely made her a prime target.

Moreover, Tristan's lack of recognition of her suggested he hailed from lands far removed from the northern region's treacherous landscape.

He was likely a foreign knight, she surmised, dispatched to investigate the enigmatic north, or perhaps just a wandering adventurer who stumbled upon her amidst the vast wilderness.

Despite her lingering doubts, she couldn't deny the logic of her own reasoning.

As she wrestled with these thoughts, a sudden sharp pain tore through her, eliciting a small, pained mumble from her lips.

A sizzling sensation accompanied by a burning deep within her arm, neck, and cheek intensified her discomfort.

"Please hold on for a little bit," Tristan's voice broke through her distress, his focus unwavering as he channeled his healing magic.

The white light emanating from his hands intensified, its purity illuminating the surrounding darkness as he cast his purification spell.

With each passing moment, the demonic miasma within her body dwindled, vanquished by the radiant light.

As she was all healed up Tristan slowly backed away from her as he got up, extending her arms towards her to help her get up.

Mavis hesitated for a moment before accepting the kind gesture.

"Thank you, sir?"

Mavis hesitated, realizing they hadn't properly introduced themselves yet.

A small chuckle escaped Tristan before he graciously offered his name.

"Tristan, and you are?" he inquired, his tone warm and inviting.

Mavis deliberated briefly, contemplating whether to reveal her true identity.

However, observing Tristan's genuine kindness and considering the urgency of her situation, she concluded that further skepticism might prove more detrimental than beneficial.

Despite his lack of a surname, Tristan's demeanor contradicted his commoner status, hinting at a hidden complexity.

Trusting her instincts, Mavis decided to confide in him. After all, she sensed a kindred spirit within him, someone who possessed the compassion and courage to assist her in her time of need.

Though burdened by the weight of her name and the dangers it entailed, she knew she couldn't navigate this perilous journey alone.

With a deep breath, Mavis weighed her options before opting for honesty. She knew she needed to gauge Tristan's reaction, to discern whether he could be trusted.

One false move from him, and she would flee without hesitation, even if it meant tapping into the last reserves of her strength, perhaps even sacrificing her soul as a catalyst.

"My name is Mavis," she declared, her voice tinged with both apprehension and vulnerability.

As the words left her lips, she braced herself for the impending revelation, steeling her resolve for whatever may come.

Time seemed to freeze as Tristan processed her confession, his eyes widening in a mixture of wonder and genuine surprise.

'He knows the meaning of my name…'

Mavis's heart quickened with trepidation, her instincts urging her to remain vigilant, ready to act at the first sign of deception.

Her hands were immediately coated in what little mana she restored.

"Your name is Mavis?" Tristan echoed, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"Yes…"

Tristan's next words hung heavy in the air, laden with implications that sent a shiver down Mavis's spine. "Then are you perhaps Queen Mavis? The last living High Fairy... That Mavis?"

"Yes"

Tristan stood in disbelief, his gaze fixed intensely upon Mavis as she revealed her true identity. Her beauty was otherworldly, with long white hair cascading around her like a veil, her pointed ears reminiscent of the ancient elves. But it was her eyes that held him captivated—radiant orbs that seemed to shift in color with every passing moment, reflecting the vast spectrum of nature itself. And beneath it all, there was an aura of tranquility, a calming presence that resonated deep within him, akin to the legendary dragons of old.

As the truth sank in, a small smile tugged at the corners of Tristan's lips, a stark contrast to Mavis's nervous demeanor. It was almost ironic—the regal bearing of a fairy queen juxtaposed with the apprehension of a vulnerable young woman. But Tristan knew what he had to do.

With a deliberate and measured stride, Tristan approached Mavis once more, adopting a demeanor befitting the gravity of the situation. His voice took on a businessman-like tone, projecting confidence and respect.

Tristan's unexpected actions left Mavis bewildered, her mind racing to comprehend the sudden shift in his demeanor. "Your Majesty..." he addressed her, his tone tinged with reverence.

"Hmm?" Mavis responded, still perplexed by the change but choosing to focus on herself rather than dwell on Tristan's behavior.

Before she could voice her confusion, Tristan's swift movement caught her off guard. With a deft kick, he sent her stumbling, only to catch her in his arms moments later, lifting her up as if she were royalty. Mavis's protest died on her lips as Tristan carried her with unexpected ease.

"Excuse me, Your Majesty," Tristan spoke again, his words tinged with a hint of mischief.

"W-what are you doing?" Mavis questioned, her voice laced with surprise and confusion. But before she could receive an answer, Tristan sprang into action once more, disappearing from their current location in a blur of motion. The ground beneath them trembled as he launched into a sprint, leaving a small crater in his wake.

Mavis barely had time to process the bewildering turn of events as they hurtled through the forest at breakneck speed, her body flailing slightly in Tristan's grasp. They moved with the swiftness of lightning, streaking through the dense foliage until a distant camp came into view.

As they approached the camp, Mavis's heart raced with anticipation, and worry….

….

Deep inside a cave nestled within the snowy embrace of a mountain, a woman with dazzling white hair sat upon a makeshift chair fashioned from the cold rocks of her surroundings.

Her eyes, reminiscent of the cerulean skies above, gazed fondly at the bubbling pot before her, filled to the brim with a hearty stew of vegetables and meats.

The aroma wafting from the pot was intoxicating, its comforting scent evoking a sense of warmth and contentment that stirred the depths of her soul.

A small trail of drool escaped her graceful lips, betraying her hunger as she eagerly anticipated the meal to come.

Observing her indulgent display, I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of my beloved fiancée. Despite having shared a light snack not long ago.

"Haha, I didn't think you would be so hungry, Elena. We just had a light snack a while ago," I remarked teasingly, my gaze softening as I admired her radiant presence.

Our journey together had brought us closer than ever before, and yet, with each passing moment, I discovered new facets of her character that filled me with awe and admiration.

"I-I'm not hung—" Elena began to protest, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Grumble~!!!

But before she could finish her denial, her stomach betrayed her with a loud grumble, punctuating her words with undeniable honesty.

The sudden sound only served to deepen her blush; her embarrassment palpable as she attempted to conceal her hunger.

With a fond smile, I reached out to gently wipe the stray drool from Elena's cheek.

Elena's insatiable appetite had become a noticeable trend in recent days, prompting me to wonder if it was somehow linked to her repeated use of the relic.

As we journeyed together towards the heart of the northern lands, facing off against monstrous creatures and demonic entities at every turn, Elena's hunger seemed to grow with each passing encounter.

For a few days on end, we pressed forward, navigating the treacherous terrain and braving the onslaught of demonic forces that relentlessly pursued us.

It was a calculated gamble, drawing the attention of the demons and luring them into our path, but one that proved effective in thinning their ranks and disrupting their plans.

"That demonic princess must be having a headache right now because of my sudden actions… even though I was just planning to hurt and damage the demons enough to let them escape, Elena always kills every one of them on the spot."

Surprisingly amidst the chaos of battle, Elena emerged as an unexpected powerhouse, her prowess on the battlefield surpassing even my own expectations.

With each wave of demons that assailed us, she unleashed her formidable powers with a grace and ferocity that left me in awe.

It was a stark contrast to my initial assumptions, as she effortlessly dispatched hordes of foes with a skill and precision that belied her gentle demeanor.

Elena's mastery of the relic's powers made her the perfect weapon against the demon's armies.

Her ability to harness the divine energies of the sun and channel them into devastating attacks rendered her a formidable adversary, capable of turning the tide of battle single-handedly.

'For the hero to be given a free bus ride like this, it didn't sit well with me.'

With a heavy sigh, I contemplated the situation while stirring the soup I had been preparing.

Setting aside my thoughts, I scooped up a spoonful of the savory soup and offered it to the ever-hungry Elena for her taste test.

Her delighted exclamation at its deliciousness brought a smile to my lips, her happiness a welcome respite from the turmoil of our journey.

"It's delicious…!" Elena exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with delight.

Chuckling at her enthusiastic reaction, I couldn't help but avert my gaze for a moment, concealing the truth that lingered beneath the surface.

The soup, crafted from the meat of monsters we had encountered on our travels, had been transformed into a delectable dish with the addition of a few simple ingredients.

'I mean we were running out of supplies for our journey, she's been eating way too much, so I had to make alternatives, right?'

Yet, the knowledge that Elena had been unknowingly consuming orc meat filled me with a sense of unease.

"I'm glad" I replied, masking my inner turmoil with a reassuring smile.

With another deep sigh, I resolved to keep the truth hidden from Elena—for now, at least.

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