A Place in the Word

It was the darkness that got to him the most, but the light of the day made him despair. He felt as if he was suspended between two different worlds, two different prisons. There was one which was the daylight, the other the night. It seemed that both in their different ways mocked him. The daylight forced him to walk around barely conscious. In those empty hours all he wanted was, to find a place to hideaway, from the world and all its hypocrisy. The battles he wanted no part in, the choices he had no interest in making. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Whichever way he chose, he could no longer win anyway. He knew this now.

The day was coming nearer when he knew he had to make the decision. But in truth he had no stomach for it now. But deep inside his head it called to him, like the beat of a drum, or moths to a burning candle. On and on, until all he could do was beg for the night in all its small mercy, when he no longer had to pretend.

The night would arrive bringing him brief respite. There he could live in the world he wanted, where she was by his side. They could relive their dreams their hopes, escape from the never ending fate that stalked him, wherever he went. For a few hours his agony would be bearable, until his dream ended, and his nightmare began, when he awoke and realised she was no longer by his side. Would it always be like this he asked himself? Why was it that he only truly realised how much he loved her, when she'd been taken away from him?

As he lay on the floor looking up at the starry sky he remembered happier times. The stars had always calmed him, even when he was a child. When he lay there he felt peace, a serenity that he could never quite find in the day time. The darkness would surround him, protecting him in all its isolation. Here he would be safe from the murmurs that accompanied each step he made. He would count each star in the sky, naming each as he searched from one to another.

When he and Kara had been together, they would do the same. Their voices low on the breeze that softly blew, around them. He would tell her things, he'd never told anyone before. He would try hard on those nights, to remember all the stories that his father had told him. He was so desperate for her to believe in their world. If he couldn't make her believe it, how could he do it himself? Yet even as he charmed his way into her life, there was a voice that stirred deep inside his head.

How he wished he could make it stop, just for one night. But it would eat away inside him until that night when he knew he could no longer ignore it. It was their last night together, and as tears stung his eyes as he remembered it now. How she had argued with him, when he had told her that he was leaving the Druid camp. Tears had run down her face, as she accused him of abandoning her. It was an accusation that had stung him hard. But he knew he must walk the path he had chosen, the path to self-discovery and for now it did not include Kara.

On their last night together she had sullenly relented, allowing him to kiss away her tears as they lay under a bright moon filled sky. He had promised her that he would not forget her and that he would send for her, one day. As he relived their passion he realised that was the night when he had truly found his place in the world. The realisation cut into him, as he briefly remembered his time as a Knight of Camelot.

In truth he had never belonged there in the way he had once hoped he could. Too much history lay between him and Camelot. He still accepted that there was good in Arthur, despite Kara's death. But he knew he could not serve under him now, even if he wanted to. The Camelot experience had left him confused and wounded, in ways he struggled to understand. Arthur a man who had always given him such encouragement and hope, had turned out to be another sad disappointment. As for Emrys, his heart only had pain, and even if he didn't like to admit it bitterness. He had never wanted Mordred there and he had never bothered to hide it. Even now the rejection left him feeling hollow and angry. He had sensed hostility in him from the beginning, nothing Mordred ever did seemed to make any difference. He never had the chance to prove himself to Emrys, and even now the pain of it hit him far harder then he wanted to admit.

Morgana came into his mind, today she would be requiring his answer. He sat up reluctantly as the first daylight of the morning came into sight. What could he do? He wished he could be as committed as she was, but it was no longer in him. As he watched the sun slowly rise to welcome a new day, the answer lay ahead of him, and he knew it.

He slowly walked outside. He watched her as she came nearer her walk determined and business like. He waited until she was facing him, a look of defiance like she was daring him to say no. All the same he waited until she asked the question of him.

"Well are you committed to this Mordred?" Her voice, sounded loud, almost hypnotic, as her eyes fixed onto his.

He paused for another second, before he realised he could no longer deny the inevitable. It would appear this was the way it was always going to be for him. His fate was this one last final act. Maybe then he could at last escape from it all, and find some peace.

"I am ready Morgana." He said, quietly feeling nothing but emptiness and a numbness that bore into his soul. As he followed her onwards the voice inside him at last ceased.