I hear the fire settle beside me, its sputter the only break of the silence. I feel its life upon my brow and the cool stones beneath my back. The aroma of burning wood sooths my fears and I no longer am caught in the worry of the fight. I don't see the coals jumping at their death; instead I use my supplementary senses. I often reconcile in a composed space such as this- A prayer here, a simple blessing there. And all I know is the serenity of the scene.
Some often say you gain power within you as your fear grows- as much strength is gained as courage lost. As my mother's innocent cries resounded in my mind and the hot flames burned in my eyes, my courage had been lost in the seemingly gloomy fog of the night, and the now overpowering haze in my mind. It'd been difficult to find her silhouette in the pitiful scene, though I still managed to find her. Innocence is all she had claimed, though evil struck her far deep in her back. Of all in the village, she was one of the few whom had the suffrage of the most calibers.
As realization developed over me I raced to the sole vicinity that called to me at this time of most requirements. I knew the sword of my father's grave was merely the impossible task of the land to remove, but as I had spoke previously, my courage had lost and my strength had gained. Strength was now the claimer of victory.
I felt my muscles tugging at each other as I marched with demand, but for now all I could do was fight for the right of my mother. Merlin hadn't found his way into my view, but perhaps this was the necessary action. Perhaps it was better this way than any other. Perhaps my foggy view had saved my own life.
And I saw her merciful face for the final time- that merciful face I shall never forget, and the sword I shall never surrender. And the main swarm of heat matured over me.
"Did her remembrance play in your mind again, Arthur? Is that it?" Guinevere's voice had now captured the silence, and it now belonged to my love and the flames.
"How did you recognize it, Guinevere?"
"I always know, Arthur. And I know what you do when you detach from the rest of the warriors. You remember, don't you? And I always wonder how a man with a history such as yours could develop into a present of your breed. A man, who should be filled with such hatred by this moment in time, has grown into one of compassion- a good man."