The Calling

Gwen was pushed roughly into a vast open space within the ruins of the old castle. “Watch it!” she snapped as she stumbled onto the ground and sat looking around her rubbing her arm.

“She has fire!” exclaimed Morgan as she strode around the site, her eyes darting to the orb which sat in its stone berth in the center of the clearing. Gwen looked on as the woman before her stood before the orb and stared into its depths, “show me...” she urged. Gwen strained her eyes as she peered through the diminishing light at the mist filled sphere, but struggled to see anything from this distance, instead choosing to examine the immediate area. She had been to the ruins many times before, but never like this. These people were mad she had already decided and spied Agravain who stood barring her retreat. Stone lay about the ground, scattered through the ravages of time and the once proud towers which had risen majestically over the years staring out over the sea now stood hunched in disrepair and the toll of time and the weather had withered the once mighty building. “Damn you!“, Gwen’s attention was snapped back to the woman who slapped her hands roughly against the sides of the sphere. She could see an anger rising in her as she placed both hands on each side of the orb, “show me...” she shouted into the glass and once again turned from the sphere, her face reddening with anger. “Agravain!” she snapped and the Knight Commander briskly left his post by the main entry point to the ruins and stood close to Morgan.

“My Lady” he said obediently bowing his head slightly. Gwen glanced toward the opening and thoughts of escape played over the brain. She shifted slightly and tensed as she thought her options through whilst keeping one eye on the pair at all times.

Morgan roared with anger and her hand flashed through the air, the back of her hand catching Agravain flush on the cheek in a completely unprovoked attack. Gwen recoiled at the ferocity of the strike and her muscles relaxed as she decided against flight from the castle, her mind arguing against the actions in the oncoming darkness, coupled with the madness of the people around her. The Knight stood his ground as his head was forced back from the slap, his cheek showing off a reddening mark which swelled slightly beneath the pressure. “My loyal Commander” Morgan purred as she gently rested her palm against his swollen cheek. “Loyal to the end” she smiled as she looked into his eyes, “if only...” her hand trailed from his cheek and down the front of his body along his breastplate. “The time is nigh” she said as her hand continued its slow descent downward toward his waist, her eyes meeting his as she spoke. “Soon...good Agravain all this will be mine” she breathed and smiled warmly leaning close to the Knight Commander’s face and whispered softly as her hand rested on his groin, her fingers cloying at the rough breeches he wore.

Gwen sat in an uncomfortable fascination as she watched this dance unfold before her and despite her best efforts she could feel a tingle of arousal within her own groin. “Once I have Excalibur...” she breathed softly rubbing the outline of his genitals beneath his clothing whilst still staring into his eyes, not missing a beat as the soldier stood to attention, “the world will bend to my will”. Morgan abruptly stopped and turned to face the girl, still sprawled on the floor and gazed down at her form. The Knight stood uncomfortably still awaiting his instructions, standing to attention in sensual frustration. “And you girl will be the key” Morgan said softly walking toward her, slowly masking her feelings and smiling toward Gwen as she stalked her. “Stand” she commanded and waited patiently as Gwen obeyed the instruction and stood before her. “Once the boy has the sword, he will give us Excalibur in return for you” she jabbed her in the chest as she spoke, then turned back to the orb and spoke into the glass. “But where are they?” she snapped, “it must be that damned Fisher King!”

“Your mad” whispered Gwen.

Morgan threw her head back and laughed, “never more have I been saner” she said.

“Excalibur doesn’t exist” snapped Gwen.

“Oh...but it does sweet child” purred Morgan as she indicated for Agravain to move back to his position. “And once I have it...I Morgan Le Fay shall have dominion over reality itself”

“Yourself Aunt” the voice of the newcomer came from behind Agravain and even at this distance and through the darkness Gwen could see the form of the third person from the public house.

“Mordred...your face” she said.

Mordred’s hand snaked up to his marked face, where cuts and bruises played with dirt, “Tis nothing good Lady” he said spying Gwen, “yon youth gave a good account of himself” he said smiling, “but ’Twas not a fight, more a sport!” he laughed as he thrust a hand out before him indicating a death blow with his sword.

“Your all mad” spat Gwen, through the tears which swelled in her eyes. Gwen struggled against her own feelings, desperate not to let these people see her grief.

“Where be the boy?” asked Mordred looking past Morgan toward the orb.

“I know not” Morgan admitted, “The Fisher King will not let me see” she clenched her fists in frustration as she spoke, “but the boy will have the sword soon enough and once he does” she looked straight at Gwen as she spoke, “he will come to us”

“Boy?” blinked Gwen as she spoke, “Francis...” her voice trailed off as she looked at Morgan, then Mordred. “Am I mad?” she asked herself as they laughed at her confusion.

“He will come and give us the sword of his own free will” purred Morgan. She indicated toward Agravain who stepped forward at her bidding, “take her to the dungeons” she ordered, “but Agravain...be sure that not one hair on her head is harmed” she said switching her gaze to meet that of Mordred, “the girl is not to be harmed or abused in any way. She must remain pure”

Francis watched as the three Knights walked along the beach in the opposite direction from his own journey. He glanced at the sky, he hadn’t realised that the night had closed in on them and wondered whether the risk of travelling through the night would be worth it. The clouds overhead closed around the evening sky and wandered meaninglessly across the sky as he closed his eyes and struggled to listen to the voice ringing in his ears. “Come to me...” the woman spoke softly in his ear, and despite the constant reminder of his own fragile sanity, he was beginning to find the presence of the voice reassuring as the madness of the world surrounded him.

“I hear you” he spoke softly into the air, “where are you”

The Knight watched on frowning as Francis spoke to the unseen woman which spoke to him. “Come to me...” she said softly again. “you are close” Francis opened his eyes and sighed, he knew his journey would soon be at an end and glanced along the beach to where the Fisher King stood. Great grooves had been dug deep into the soft sand as the creature had dragged its crippled legs along the expanse of beach to a small outcrop of rocks which sat on the edge of the sea, waves playfully caressing the roughly sewn boulders. He cast a glance the other way and wondered the reaction of the three Knights turning up at the pub would serve Gwen and her Father. He smiled as he thought of the Landlord being confronted by a real Knight and briefly wished he would be there to witness the confrontation.

“My Lord” said Galahad softly, “The Fisher King awaits” he pointed along the beach, “what are your wishes”

“We go on” he said confidently looking down the beach.

Merlin stood by the stone chalice gazing into the watery depths and watched as Francis set off down the beach, his footsteps masked his journey as they sank deep into the soft moist ground. “He is coming...” he whispered into the water, briefly looking toward Gawain who stalked around the cavern in brooding contemplation.

“He is pure of thought” the voice from the water.

“Be still...” warned Merlin raising a hand.

“Merlin...?” Gawain frowned as he looked toward Merlin as the voice of the sage reached him through the emptiness. He stepped forward and felt the air around him thicken, his legs growing heavy and time around him slowed to a standstill. Merlin hurried to the frozen form of Gawain and moved around the body, jabbing and probing the Knight with his hand as he was caught in a temporal freeze.

“Lady...” breathed Merlin, turning back to the chalice, “he is still”

The water in the chalice swelled and rose over the edges of the basin and spilled across the floor in a large puddle. It swam and moved under the intense of Merlin as it formed slowly into a shape which rose higher and undefined in a mass of swirling liquid before hardening and taking on a form. “He is coming” the female voice echoed Merlin’s first words as he had spoken into the chalice. “That is too be expected. He is the one”

“His journey shall soon be at an end” stated Merlin and he reached for the woman’s hand, “as is our own”

“Soon my Love...” she breathed. The woman stood staring into the darkness, water falling from her naked body, “but take heed there is danger ahead” she warned, “I see death...”