ACTIVATION 1
Chapter II
The entire room sprang to life in an explosion of light as floods of power surged through the cables connected to Gawain, so much so was that the heat generated from the power flow made the cables glow bright orange and white.
Gawain's dead, mechanical eyes suddenly flashed with bright green intensity, running a full systems check and diagnostic in mere nanoseconds. He rose to his feet almost instantaneously, revealing just how tall he really was. He towered over Arthur, roughly half again as tall. The king was no slouch of a man by any means. Even at the age of fifty-four, he stood an imposing six feet three inches tall and still possessed a well-muscled frame. This put Gawain's stature at a monstrous nine feet tall!
Suddenly, what was once dull and lifeless became the shockingly handsome, strong-featured visage of a man with short, dark hair and eyes of a bright emerald green.
"Gawain online." Said the figure.
Arthur had expected a robotic, static filled vocalization for the figure. Instead, what issued forth from the machine's mouth was astonishingly…human! Arthur stepped aside and motioned for Merlin to follow.
Once they were a short distance away from Gawain, who stood stock-still awaiting his orders, the king turned to his ancient friend and asked,
"Why does he sound like a man?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Merlin questioned as he glared and continued, "That's because in many ways, he is a man. You see, many years ago, during your war against Morgan Le Fay, there was one battle you very nearly lost. Do you remember it?"
Arthur nodded his assent and Merlin began his tale.
During this battle Sir Ector was grievously wounded and was chased by Le Fay's warriors to a farmhouse. A young man named Gawain resided there. Ector crashed through the door, bleeding everywhere, with the warriors hot on his trail. He ordered Gawain to flee as far and as fast as he could. Gawain ignored Ector and took an old but well-kept longsword from behind the little stove near the back of the room and wordlessly walked outside. Sir Ector watched through a small window as the Le Fay warriors arrived and encircled the young man. Everything was quiet as they moved closer and closer.
As soon as the first was within range, Gawain rocketed forth, driving his blade into the thug with such force that it bodily lifted him off the ground! As Gawain withdrew the blade, a wretched sucking sound echoed as it was ripped from the dying man's torso. Wasting no time, he wheeled to face the rest of his attackers, now twenty strong with more reinforcements fast approaching.
"Just let us have Arthur's lackey, boy! If'n you do, we'll consider lettin' you live!" snarled one of the Le Fay fighters.
"Not on your life, you foul-smelling pig! If I am to die today, I shall do it on my feet with your blood dripping from my blade!" Gawain shouted in reply.
"So be it. Kill 'im!" shouted the warrior.
Gawain threw himself headlong into his assailants, hell-bent on killing as many as he could.
From inside the farmhouse, Sir Ector managed to retrieve his emergency beacon from his pack. He activated and threw it into the empty stove to boost the signal. As he slumped to the ground, he looked out the window and dismayed as he saw Gawain begin to falter, sustaining injuries as his strength waned. Ector said a silent prayer for peace upon the young man's soul as he slipped out of consciousness, hoping help would arrive in time.
Outside, the battle raged on as Gawain went from man to man, the bodies piling up wherever he stood. He felt himself beginning to tire, and it wasn't long before a lucky opponent got in a slash to his upper chest. Gawain stumbled back, parrying blow after blow as he bled profusely from the wound. A thrust broke through his defense and gashed his side in his attempt to dodge.
He began to slow down and stumble a bit more, taking more and more cuts and slashes. The Le Fay warriors' leader stepped forward and savagely fought Gawain. Gawain parried and dodged, swung away and thrust, but it just wasn't enough.
The warrior deflected Gawain's final blow hard enough to disarm him. He then stepped forward and drove his sword deep into Gawain's stomach. As he laughed, Gawain stared defiantly into the leader's eyes and forced himself down the length of the blade, drew a small dagger from the small of his back and jammed it into the oaf's neck and drew it around, ripping through his throat. As the dying men watched each other from a hand-span away, Gawain lifted the bloody dagger to where the leader could see.
He muttered, "I told you…I would die…on my feet…your blood dripping…from my…blade…did I not?"
And with that statement, Gawain gurgled a blood-filled chuckle and slumped against the dead man's shoulder, blacking out in his final moments.
The marauders stood stunned at the spectacle before them. Their leader was dead now and they knew not what to do; so, they looted the bodies of their fallen comrades. As they were doing so, a detachment led by Sir Lancelot of the Knights of the Round Table, accompanied by Merlin, descended upon the farm. Whatever looters that weren't killed or captured fled into the foothills of the nearby mountains.
Lancelot stared at the two immobile, upright corpses and grabbed the nearest prisoner by the hair.
"What happened here?!" he demanded.
The marauder stared frightfully up at his captor and pointed a trembling hand at the body of Gawain.
"Th-th-the b-b-boy!" he stammered, "H-he wouldn't let us take the wounded kn-n-night prisoner! S-s-s-so we attacked…"
"Who was helping him?" Lancelot asked.
"N-n-n-n-no one! He did this all on his own! Even killed Commander Sikes after Sikes ran the boy through! Pulled a lil' knife out and tore poor Sike-sy's throat out, he did! I never seen s'much blood from a neck before…" the man trailed off, clearly traumatized from having witnessed such ferocity.
Merlin went towards the door of the farmhouse and ordered three men inside to search for survivors and then made his way towards the gruesome bloody statue that was Gawain and his final master-stroke. He stood there a moment, pondering.
"What are you thinking about, wizard?" Lancelot inquired.
"You mean aside from how much of a prick you are, Lancy?" Merlin quipped.
"What?!"
"Nevermind, Lancy. I am wondering what would possess a young man such as this to defend Sir Ector? Why not just give him up to them? Or help him escape? Why fight, especially knowing that his death was inevitable?"
At that precise moment, Merlin felt it. A flicker of life from the young man!
"By the gods! This young lad's not dead!" Merlin exclaimed. "You two! Help me remove this hero from this blade, get him wrapped in a blanket and transport him back to my lab!"
The two pages stood dumbfounded.
"Well don't just stand there! Be quick about it!" the wizard shouted.
The pages snapped out of their collective stupor and did as they were told.
As King Arthur listened to this tale, astounded, he had to ask the question that was burning in his mind.
"So why did you turn him into…this thing? Why not just have him nursed back to health and train him up further?"
Merlin looked at Arthur, considering the question. The pair stood locked in a pregnant silence while the old wizard pondered. After a few seconds, which seemed an eternity, Merlin sighed as if annoyed at a small child, and began to speak.
