Oh Sweet Avalon
Oh Sweet Avalon, how distant a dream you have become.
A land of joy and peaceful shores, where the timber glistens in the morning light, the fields of farmland are kind and full, and the distant memory of conflict has become but a fairy tale, bathed in the honey of nightly revelry and children's stories of heroes and heroines. How that dream seemed so at hand, and yet on this day, it is as far as the glistening clouds of Heaven. Is this what the great conqueror felt, his persuit for Okeanos, so close, yet never quite in his grasp? I wish to dream again, but how distant my sweet Avalon has become. How the world has grown so bleak, so divided...
I wish to dream a new dream, but all I find, are wistful memories. Of a land of joy and peaceful shores, dreamt by a young lily in the twilight of her blossoming, and the eve of her white petal's staining in red. I dared to dream again, but a dream did not come to me. Twas a nightmare. A land, so close to my sweet Avalon, yet bathed in black, in red, and in chains. A world shackled into peace, taken, forced, controlled. This is not my Avalon, this is a prison, a cage built out of fear. I see a crown, a darken circlet that burns with light yet eats it as fast, and a faceless ruler, who stares back at me. Who is this being, who is this that looks at me, and dares poison my Avalon? Who be this monster, who hides herself behind a mask, and wields a blade of poisoned light, and dares toxify my dream?!
No... no it can not be... No! No it can not be true! I refute it, I deny this lie of the devil and hell! This poisoned queen.. s she.. Sh she is me! No... no this must be a lie. This can not be... I would never become this poisoned defilement of my dream, I would never bring about this corrupted ideal...
...But... what if that is what it took... What if for Avalon to finally come... what if the path i seek... is only soaked in more blood... my hands... they feel so heavy... they are so soaked as is, the weight of so many that I have cut down... must I further bathe myself, my people, in this blood, to achieve my dream...?
Then it is not my dream! No, this is not the Avalon I desire. This is not the dream my people deserve. Blood and bone will not be the mortar and brick of my Avalon. No matter the hardship, no matter the pain i must endure, my dream will not succumb to the sins and corrupt lies of my forebarers. I will not treat the path of so many kings and queens before me, who lost their way to give into an easier method, who gave into the grief, into the suffering and sought methods that were easy, regardless of the cost. That is not the queen I shall be! No, my sweet Avalon will come about, and it will be on my terms. Our terms. Thus I decree! Artoria Pendragon, Former Queen of Great Britain, and Future Queen of Avalon!