The Round Table,
England, 6th century A.D.
Sir Galahad was reading the reports from the Saxon kingdoms.
Gawain narrowed his brows. He glanced at the seat next to him. His second in command, Percivale, was without expression. Due to their long acquaintance, Gawain knew that it was because he was suppressing the feelings swirling inside of him. Sir Galahad continued in a grave voice.
"At present our troops have reclaimed both banks of the Aln River, and it is calculated that they will gradually invade the rest of Northumbria. It is probably safe to assume that the troops of King Caw will be mostly destroyed."
Lancelot du Lac nodded gravely. Sir Bors, looking at the documents, raised his eyebrows.
"It seems that most of the Northern Saxon kingdoms have been annexed under the king's banner, thanks to the efforts of Sir Lancelot and Sir Gawain. Not only have they proved exceptional in battles but they have also kept high the morale of our troops with their inspiring presence."
Sir Galahad and the others nodded in approval.
"That was our duty. It was only to be expected."
Sir Lancelot said dryly.
It was the King who replied.
"Duty it might be for you, Sir Lacelot, yet in my kingdom, loyalty and valour fetches rewards beyond all other virtues. You are awarded lordship over the Dolorous Guard!"
A great cheer erupted at this declaration.
From a corner of the room a moth rose upward, only to be devoured by a tongue of fire from a nearby lamp. Smoke curled up lightly, along with an unpleasant noise. Then its lifeless, charred body spiralled down to the stone floor. A pair of eyes looked at it dispassionately.
How depressing…
The longer Mordred sat in his chair, the more he hated the hypocrites inside the room. His obsidian eyes, bottomless like two empty voids, shone with the fire from the burning torches. But no one present in the room that night knew of the dark, festering wound in his heart.
'The devil's spawn' he had been named, hated and feared by all – all because a 'noble king of great virtue' had succumbed to the temptations of the flesh.
Now, he would love to see his Sire ruined, unmanned, reduced to a helpless pulp that he could crush between two fingers – the way his father had tried to snuff out his life when he was but a waif. But he had no hurry. He would wait for the perfect moment in time when a window would open, and like an adder he would pour his venom…
Morgan le Fay's Castle
A woman was climbing up the stairs to the topmost tower, her black cloak trailing behind her like the pinion of a crow. Panting heavily, she knocked at a wooden door. A moment later, it was answered by the mistress of the tower.
"Morgause! What brings you here at this hour?"
"It's Mordred…I…I spoke to him last night…" Morgause stammered, gasping for breath. She threw a fearful glance around her. "I…he…I've seen it in his eyes, Morgan…I've se-seen death in his eyes! He means to murder his Sire, I just know it in my heart, I do! Please, we have to stop him!"
Morgan le Fay drew her brows together with a serious expression.
"Oh, calm down, Morgause. I'm sure you are imagining things."
"No! How can you tell me to be calm when you know of the danger…" Morgause brought her voice down to a whisper, "You know what Merlin predicted."
"Wizards have been wrong before."
"Morgan, he's your nephew!" Morgause joined her hands in supplication, "Stop his soul from being condemned for all eternity. Patricide is the sin of sins."
For a while, Morgan le Fay was lost in contemplation. When she looked up, her beautiful eyes were sad as an autumn twilight.
"Your child, Mordred, will fulfil his own destiny. I cannot prevent that. The game pieces have started to move already. All I can do is to forestall it, so you can have more time to pray…or to counsel."
Morgause looked at something far away.
"Time…yes, time can move mountains. It's a powerful thing, time…"
Bowing her head, she retraced her steps out of the castle. Her dark shadow blended with the darkness of the night.
Higurashi Residence
Japan, 1997 A.D.
Kagome Higurashi was already late for her trip to feudal Japan.
'Oh, Inuyasha is going to kill me,' she thought as she worriedly looked at the sky. Forcing her over-packed bag to close, she heaved it over her already hurting shoulders. Mama came in with a bentou box.
"Here, I packed dinner for your friends. Give the porridge to Inuyasha-kun – he does not like spicy food. And give the toffees to Shippou."
"Thanks Mama, you are the best!"
Kagome gave her mother a quick hug and then ran towards the ancient well. She made her familiar jump, and immediately blue sparkles wrapped around her. By now she had become used to the sensation of time travel.
She was hurtling through somewhere in time, when out of nowhere something large and red collided with her, knocking out her breath. A moment later, she landed on her feet and toppled backwards, clutching at the vines for support. She looked up worriedly to check if her route had been compromised, but was relieved to see the familiar sky above her.
As she lowered her glance, however, she was shocked to see a man dressed in a scarlet robe sitting across from her.
The man peered into her face quizzically, and then blinked once.
"Say, you're no Helen of Troy!"
Kagome bristled in anger.
"Hey buddy, no need to get personal."
"I didn't. I was sent to get Helen of Troy."
"You were what? Who are you?"
"I'm Sirius," the man replied.
"Does it look like I'm joking?"
"My name is Sirius," the man clarified, "like the Dog Star?"
Kagome could only look back at him in wonder.