Camelot's Resurrection
Prologue – An Unpleasant Conclusion
The battle had raged for much of the previous night and most of the day. The creatures that normally frequented the deep and misty forest had disappeared when they heard the sounds of men walking through its paths. The smell of the willows and wild flowers was stifled in the wake of flaming torches, unwashed clothing and evaporating sweat.
Arrows flew from between trees, hitting men and beast alike, and many a shield was splintered from the battering of swords and axes. Youth vs. age, good vs. evil, rich vs. poor; all were tested in the heated conflict raging around them. None were spared pain, fatigue, hunger or thirst as the hours wore on.
Suddenly a sharp cry was heard in the distance, far from the fighting. Some of the participants stopped and listened, but heard little more than metal striking metal or wood and the men laying about moaning in their pain before death. Many more would die that day, but none more important than...
- - -
"Milord... Where art thou headed?"
"Through the marsh. I saw a glimmer of gold flashing in that direction and I fear that it may be the monster of a son that despises me. I seek revenge for what he's done to the people of this land."
"Shall I go with you, milord?"
"No. I need you to continue the battle near the thick of the green. Keep the men in high spirits, and we'll make it through this day with our enemies vanquished."
"Yes, milord. May God keep you in his..." The man never finished the sentence as the swish of an object passed in front of the eyes of his leader, striking the now silenced knight in the cheek and making a disgusting thud as it attempted to push its way through to the back of the helmet. The light in the dying knight's eyes faded quickly as he collapsed in a heap with the red color of death washing over his face.
In anger, the sword that was held in the hands of the leader seemed to know what was about to transpire. With the sword's scream at full volume, the leader rose and swung the weapon in the direction that it told him to. With a newfound fury, the prey was found and once more the wash of blood discolored the metal of the sword. The sounds of quivers rattled as the archer who had suddenly lost his struggle for survival fell to the earth.
Then, as though he'd heard the wind howl against the dark green leaves of the tree he was standing beside, the leader turned and found what he had been seeking before the battle began. The glint of light he had seen earlier became a grotesque moving golden statue made of helmet, plate, harnesses and gauntlets carrying a battle axe whose blade was dulled by the drying blood encasing it. Within the helmet, in stark contrast with the gleam of the armor, was the cold, pale face of evil.
"Father. How nice to see you again."
- - -
In a secret place surrounded by loosely arranged boulders and rolling hills, an extremely old and bearded man in robes sits and silently breathes in the chilly autumn air. The man chants, holding an amulet in his hand, talking in a tongue few people on earth would understand. A hawk sits off to the side, sharing his attention between watching for a command from his keeper or the sudden movement of food running across the field in the distance. The sunlight bathed both in a false sense of warmth.
- - -
The golden statue moved slowly towards the man dressed in his battered and worn armor and whatever sunlight came through the trees was magnified by the polished surface of the young man's armor.
The older man, shielding his eyes from the intensity of the reflection, called towards the moving menace. "Don't call me father. You disgrace everyone and everything that is good and kind. The mere thought that you came from my loins disgusts me to no en…"
"Silence, you fallen shadow. No longer will people look at you as a kind and wise leader. No longer will you command the respect of those around you. The men that fight here today are blind to the real disgusting creature that you consider me to be, but that you are yourself."
"How was I to know that you existed? You were kept from me. And you were taught to hate me by whom? A witch who has a grudge against the most generous and wise man that I've ever known? A witch who killed your real mothe…"
The approaching boy walked into the shadows of the surrounding trees. "Only when my need for her was completed. That witch, as you call her, made me what I am today."
"Oh, yes! You couldn't become a proud knight of your own accord, so you took shortcuts with her help. Only through magic could you become so handsome. Only through magic could you become so talented. Only through magic could you become so powerful…"
"Like… only through magic could you become King?"
"There was mitigating circumstances. My father, the previous king, had one night of lust with a woman who wasn't his as a result of an arrangement. I was born. I was taken away to live with somebody else. Once I became King, I cast all magic aside except for my sword. I only wanted God to teach and guide me. I didn't need the lies that magic provides. Sometimes, even this sword lies to me."
The King repositioned his weapon and shield between himself and the approaching menace. "What about you? Did you grow up in servitude? Did you grow up with a conscience? Or was everything just handed to you. Just ask your 'aunt'. She had a lot to do with your being here in the first place."
"Oh, I could just imagine the night I was conceived. A cunning and cowardly girl under the influence of feigned beauty making passionate love to her newly crowned and naïve half-brothe…"
The sword screamed in the father's hands as he attempted to gain the upper hand. The axe in the boy's grip blocked what would have been a fatal blow, and the two men stood there looking at each other with anger in their eyes.
"How dare you imagine what happened. I was deceived by my sister more on that one night as much as you've been deceived by your 'aunt' all of your life. Why do you hate me so much?"
"Because you have what I want."
"You will never get what you want."
"Watch me."
As the son tried to fall away from the lean of the sword trying to get into a better position to attack, he stumbled and the axe flew out of his reach. The father laughed. "So where is your 'aunt' now? Is she going to be here to watch as I take your life and restore peace and order to the kingdom?"
The sword was raised above the father's head in a position to provide a thrusting blow to penetrate the breast plate of his son's armor. The son, looking at the eyes of his father and crawling away from him on his back, felt something brush against his wrist. He grabbed for it and thrust it up towards the menacing march of his father at the same time his father thrust his sword downwards in a death scream.
The effect was devastating.
- - -
At that same moment, the old man groans and keels over, holding his abdomen. He waves to his hawk, muttering "Find my son! Quickly!"
- - -
Blood poured out from the son's body, staining the golden armor that had once protected his sliced heart. The son looked up and tried to speak, but died with a wicked sneer and a curse on his lips.
However, the father stared down at his son grimacing with a sharp pain in his midsection. He looked away from the dead body and discovered that, during the futile attempt to escape, his son had found a pole arm, pushing it into the soft tissue of his father's abdomen. The father knew that the wound would be fatal, but he didn't know how long he would remain alive before his suffering would end.
He raised a cry into the darkness of the trees. "Help me!"
- - -
The cry in the distance was too much for the young knight to ignore. He leveled his opponent with one swing of his short sword, and whistled to his horse. The chestnut steed gleamed in the light of the day as he galloped towards the whistle, allowing the boy to jump up onto his back. This horse, having been gifted to the boy by his father, a loyal but self-banished knight, seemed faster than the wind that blew through the woods beyond.
The knight thrust his heels into the flanks of the horse and took off deep into the forest, dodging low branches and sword lunges on his way to where his heart was telling him to go.
- - -
The King collapsed to the ground, laying on his side, gasping for air. He had one mission left to perform, but was unable to do it without assistance.
Hearing hoof beats, he turned to find one of his most loyal knights on a horse named Challenger galloping towards him.
As the boy approached the scene, he saw his King lying next to a golden suit of armor. Knowing that the King had accomplished what he had set out to do, he pulled up beside the two. The boy appeared to leap off the horse as he landed at the King's side.
"Milord. Be still. You have vanquished who you have sought, and all will be well when…"
"He won't be here in time. Please, take my sword and throw it into the crystal lake beyond the forest."
"NO! We can't lose this swor…"
"Do it now, or many more innocents will die with blood taken from them by this magic. NOW, Perceval…"
"But Excalibur…"
"…can not fall into dark hands. Please do it now."
The young knight looked at Arthur in complete and utter grief. "Yes, milord."
Perceval jumped back onto Challenger, and together they lept towards the path that would take them to the lake of still waters.
Arthur crawled towards Mordred and whispered into his dead son's ear, "I'm sorry, my son, but Merlin's magic is stronger than Morgana's life, your life and now mine…"
Arthur passed out from the pain.
- - -
Perceval searched for what seemed to be hours, but he found the clearing that led to the lake of Arthur's description. He looked at Excalibur, seemingly desiring to disobey Arthur's last command. However, with the obedience of a true Knight of the Round Table, he pushed Challenger towards the lake at lightning speed. When they got to the shore of the lake, Perceval dismounted and carried the sword to the water's edge. With tears in his eyes and all of the strength he could muster, Perceval heaved Excalibur towards the center of the lake.
Then the most amazing thing he had ever seen flashed before him so fast, Perceval wasn't sure that he saw it at all. He would swear for all time to the amusement of some and the scoffing of others that a shimmering arm had reached up out of the water, caught Excalibur by the grip, and pulled it down into the lake without disturbing the still water.
Of course, there would be the two people that would leave him forever on this day that would have believed him.
- - -
As the hawk reached Arthur, he could almost feel the cold hand of death surrounding him. The hawk screamed and flew back faster than he had come to find his keeper.
- - -
Three beings arrived almost simultaneously at Arthur's side as he awoke for the last time in excruciating pain. In the rapidly approaching darkness, he looked up to see a familiar hawk on a branch above him. Arthur then looked to his left and saw Perceval.
"Did you do as I asked?"
"Yes, milord."
"Was the burden too much?"
Perceval sobbed silently. "Yes, milord. But the…"
Arthur finished the sentence for him. "…lady took back her gift of magic. It's only there that the blade will finally be cleansed of the blood that I have spilled in the name of vanity."
"That's not true," said the old man to his right. "That sword never took the life of an innocent man. In your heart, it always stood for peace and justice."
Merlin reached out and touched Arthur's shoulder and quietly stated, "It was Mordred's anger and lust for power that forced the blood onto Excalibur's blade. It was Mordred that would have stolen Excalibur and brought evil to the land that you appear to be leaving."
Merlin, looking up and over to the young man with tears in his eyes, said "Perceval. Stop. Don't move."
Merlin reached up and took four rolling tears from Perceval's face and placed them in a small vial.
Merlin continued to talk to Arthur. "That sword will be used again. But only in another era, in the hands of a just young man such as you were at the time you received Excalibur. But this time, there will be some adornments that will protect it from an evil monster ever wielding its blade."
Merlin, looking at the pain in Arthur's face, sighed deeply. "But, I must take something from you to ensure this."
Arthur looked to the man who had been his closest advisor for so many years. "You may take anything from me, my friend, including my life."
"Well, I'm not going to do that, since Mordred has already done that, seeing to it that you would suffer greatly."
Merlin got up and walked over to a large tree, picking off two of the greenest leaves he could find. As he walked back towards Arthur, he stated "Please open your mouth."
Arthur looked quizzingly at Merlin, but did his bidding. Merlin looked over at Perceval and said, "Hold tightly to his hand."
Perceval took Arthur's left hand into his and held it. Merlin then did a most shocking thing, causing Arthur to cry out in extreme pain. Taking the four front teeth from Arthur's mouth, Merlin took them and dipped them into the wound in Arthur's abdomen, causing another scream.
When Arthur's breath came back to him, he looked over at Merlin with tears in his eyes. "Why?"
"You'll understand when you reach the other side." Merlin reached out and squeezed Arthur's arm. "I'll be there."
Merlin started a chant, losing himself in the incantation that he was performing. In amazement, Perceval watched Merlin swirl into the darkness.
Perceval looked over at Arthur. "Do you need me for anything?"
Arthur stated "I need you to gather the remaining knights and take them to Camelot. You will all know what to do (gasp) then…" Perceval watched as Arthur drew his last breath with a tear in his eye.
With all the sorrow and loss that a man could ever imagine, Perceval wailed into the darkness.
That is, until he heard a voice swirling in the back of his head.
"Come back to the lake and find what you seek."
- - -
Troubled by leaving Arthur's body behind, Perceval and Challenger cantered slowly to the clearing where the lake stood. There, Perceval saw a shimmering in the water. The two, horse and rider, approached the lakeshore cautiously. He saw a sword that looked quite familiar laying in the water, except for the four diamonds, four red rubies, and four blue sapphires on the guard and the golden shape that was embedded into the handle.
A voice spoke out from the lake.
"Yes. This is Excalibur. However, in order to protect it from falling into evil hands, Merlin has allowed me to make some necessary modifications.
"The rubies are the teeth from Arthur's mouth forged by the blood of his last moments, representing his love and fierce loyalty to the land and its people. The diamonds are the tears that you have wept, providing bravery and compassion that will empower the one who wields it. The sapphires are from the water of this lake, representing the last of the magic that I possess so that it can be passed on to those generations who will seek magic again for we are approaching a time when we will only be thought of in legends and we are hoping to pass what is left of us on."
After a short pause, the voice continued to speak.
"Finally, Merlin gave his Amulet of Will to give the sword all it needs to survive its use in an unpleasant cause. Because of this, only Merlin can pass the sword on and only at the appointed time. That's why I have given him the Pearls of Life in exchange so he will live until he chooses not to so that he can protect the one who will receive Excalibur."
The lake itself appeared to sigh as it said the last words ever heard here.
"My time and my usefulness are at an end…"
"Wait!!!" Perceval exclaimed.
"Goodbye."
Perceval stood in silence as the finality of the last word echoed in his heart. Heavily, he watched the light surrounding Excalibur dissipate.
However, as the light in the lake dimmed, the sword slowly changed into a straight line and was following a river that led into the sea. Perceval quickly placed himself and Challenger into a position to follow the light. It was when the river reached the sea that he first saw six ghostly figures standing on the shoreline with a body in their midst. The light that he had followed reached the water's edge and started to change. Perceval dismounted and watched in awe. The transition took some time, but the light was growing and changing shape eventually turning itself into a barge. The ghostly figures carried the body onto the barge and placed it in the center. Then the light from below the barge flooded the area, momentarily blinding Perceval.
Perceval struggled to look towards the barge, and waited for his eyes to adjust. He discovered that the six figures had disappeared and he found out whose body they had been carrying.
It was Arthur.
Perceval started running up to the barge, but it was already leaving the shoreline. Then he noticed three things appear next to Arthur's body. The hawk sat at Arthur's feet. Merlin sat at Arthur's right side. The new Excalibur was laid upon Arthur's chest. The fog enveloped the barge and its occupants very quickly as they drifted out to sea.
Perceval felt peace for the first time that day. Excalibur was safe.
- - -
Perceval, having found the remains of Arthur's multitude of knights and soldiers, most of them severely wounded, led them all back towards Camelot. However, when they broke into the clearing where the great castle stood, those that could utter a sound gasped in unison…
"IT'S GONE!!!"