There's A Place
By Phoenix's Melody
Chapter Three: Adeste Fideles (Part Two)
July 31st, 1981
Isle of Avalon
The forest clearing was a natural gathering place, large enough to hold all of the Children of Avalon, a good hundred thousand in number, when they were gathered. Towards one end of the clearing, a small hill provided a natural podium that was reserved for the usage of the High Rulers. Torches ringed the clearing, their flames spelled to give off only light and not to set the overhanging tree branches on fire. At that moment, the clearing was partially filled with Children and some Descendents of Avalon who were clustered here and there in groups, talking amongst themselves in low voices, exchanging tidings from around the world. At the foot of the small hill, the High Lord was seated on a stool, speaking to a seated, elderly stranger in wizard robes who James had recently begun to see on the Isle in the company of either the High Lord or Lady, but had never spoken to before. James saw Merlin raise a beckoning hand in his direction. James complied, approaching the two men.
"My High Lord Merlin," James said, giving the immortal wizard a half-bow. Merlin nodded at him in greeting.
"James, may I introduce you to Professor Albus Dumbledore," Merlin said pleasantly. James noted the way the guest had started when his name was mentioned. Merlin probably had also noticed his guest's reaction, but ignored it out of politeness.
"Professor, this is James Williams, one of my Sons. He has served me quite well in the Outer World where you live." Merlin's voice had a touch of pride in it, which was rare; and James had to wonder if he had misinterpreted the High Lord's tone.
"I am pleased to meet you," Dumbledore said with sincerity, offering his hand.
"As am I, Professor," James replied graciously as he shook Dumbledore's hand. James forced himself not to look away when the man's light blue eyes focused on his brown ones.
"Professor Dumbledore is the leader of the Order of the Phoenix. His organization is fighting the Dark One single-handedly."
"I really must protest your claim. The Ministry, while it has some problems, has tried its best to help," Dumbledore said modestly, looking away. The High Lord had a look of utter skepticism on his face as he replied, "From what you have told me, the Ministry has made little to no headway against the corruption that is plaguing it since we last spoke a month ago."
"But at least they are trying."
"High Lord?" James asked quietly, wanting to be dismissed. Merlin nodded and James left the two powerful wizards to speak privately.
"James," a dark-haired man with Asian features called, beckoning him towards a cluster of people.
"Robert," James replied in greeting as he joined the circle.
"How are things going?" Robert Chou, a Muggle lawyer asked. "Have you found the records yet?"
"It's like searching for a needle in a haystack," James replied glumly. "Even despite the fact that they're not going through a war at the moment, the record-keeping back then for single-mothers was scanty in non-magical hospitals. And their records are a bloody mess anyway! My sources are turning up nothing! Do you have any idea what it's like trying to find records from a year ago, much less thirty-something years ago? Are you sure there's something important in Mrs. Riddle's hospital records that could help us?"
"That's what my informant told me," Robert shrugged.
The High Lady Nimuë sat on a high wooden stool in her private chambers, waiting for two of her best Outer World agents to arrive. She was troubled by what she had learned from the Source, the all-encompassing force she was sworn to serve. It had brought her both joy and sorrow in the years of her service. Nimuë thought of those who had died doing what she had asked. 'Seven Children…Bernard, the fourth betrayed…such losses…and then there are the ones who betray Avalon…for power…in stupidity…and the Law that governs Avalon is merciless…'
Her eyes drifted to the silver basin that sat next to a crystal pitcher. The clear, undisturbed water in the basin seemed harmless, yet only an hour before heartbreaking events from the Outer World had rippled across its surface. 'How much longer can the violence go on before Avalon is forced to reveal its existence once again to the Outer World? How many more have to die? How long will it be before Voldemort attacks the Isle, thirsty for the knowledge stored on our shores?'
Soft footsteps echoed down the stone corridors, bringing the High Lady back to the present. The wooden door of her study creaked open. Her light blue dress rippling, Nimuë stood to greet her guests.
"Angela and Flora, my Daughters, welcome." Nimuë's voice had the lilt of a morning songbird and the gentleness of a mother lulling her child to sleep.
"Thank you, High Lady." The sisters made as if to curtsey, but their leader raised a graceful hand to stop them.
"Please, what I speak of will need no formality. Save that for the Council. Please, sit. Tell me, Angela how does the battle against the Dark One go?" Her two followers obeyed her wishes and sat down on two stools.
"Not well. Albus Dumbledore and his followers, the Order of the Phoenix, are trying their best, but they are only a secret organization. The government is in complete disarray. The Aurors are losing people almost daily."
"Just as the Source said it would be," Nimuë whispered. She sighed and shook her head. The flickering light danced on her silver hair that was pulled back from her lined face in a bun.
"And tell me, Angela, how fares the Potter family?"
"Voldemort still seeks them with a vengeance," Angela said quietly, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. "James and Lily are taking steps to protect themselves. However, James refuses to resign from the DMLE." Flora was worried about the young son of the Potters. Few, if any, survived after the Dark One decided that he wanted them dead and the Dark One wanted the Potters dead for some odd reason. Why the Potters? Why a half-blood family? Why ignore the Longbottoms? Flora thought.
"And how fares the Longbottom family?"
"Alice and Frank have also refused to leave the Aurors' ranks," Angela replied in a distracted voice.
"John McKinnon is at peace, Angela," the High Lady said sympathetically. Angela nodded; her face still troubled.
"Forgive me, Flora, for neglecting you, but I needed the news from Angela. Flora, what day is it? I have lost track of the Outer World, for time runs differently here in Avalon…" Nimuë turned to gaze out her window, while Flora and Angela exchanged puzzled looks. Nimuë had great power and would certainly know beyond a doubt what day it was in the Outer World.
"It is the last day of July," Flora replied.
"So the child has wintered one circle of seasons and comes of age for what must be done," the High Lady said, more to herself than her two agents. She sighed again, quietly, to herself. She turned to face the sisters again.
"I apologize. I was lost in my thoughts. There is something I need for both of you to do for me in the Outer World that I cannot do myself. I wish for you to teach Avalon's secrets to the children of our descent."
Angela's rigorous Auror training was probably the only thing that prevented her from voicing her reaction to her leader's statement aloud. Flora, being a Healer, did not possess the same training that her sister had to control her expressions, but was still able to hold onto some semblance of composure that fooled neither of her companions. She swallowed several times before mustering up the courage to say, "I beg your pardon, but—Vivien, if any were to join—," Flora fumbled as she tried to find the right words, "he would be almost undefeatable—the risks—we've already lost so many— " Flora faltered, unsure of how to continue on without being offensive to the High Lady. Nimuë looked at her agents, a little uncertain why they were so concerned with her request until the present reasserted itself over the visions from the Source that had clouded her mind.
"I am sorry," said Nimuë. "I am much preoccupied these days. I do not mean for you to commence on this project immediately. No. Not now, certainly not now. When this is over and things have settled down, then I will ask this of you. Until then… You are right. If our knowledge were to find their way into his hands now, Avalon's very existence would be at stake, not to mention the Balance."
Taking in the still-shocked and shaken expressions on Angela and Flora's faces, Nimuë murmured, "Perhaps I should start from the beginning…"
She glanced out of the window again before she began to explain. "One year ago tonight, a child was born; one who will command our alliance and eventually defeat the Dark One once and for all. The Source has seen it fit that I should be informed that the Dark One will soon suffer a disabling blow—one that will take several years for him to recover from, but will not purge us of him forever. Voldemort will return. And this child, when he is grown, must face him and do what we cannot: banish Voldemort to bring him to judgment before the Source."
The High Lady looked frustrated that the Dark One would not be defeated permanently soon, but there was also a mingled look of sadness and acceptance beneath the anger. Centuries had taught her to accept the Source's orders, though on occasion, Nimuë would revolt.
"I know that both of you have taken vows to protect Avalon and her forgotten magic from the Outer World and from those who would wish to posses our power and use it destructively, but the time is coming when our knowledge must spread beyond these shores. As Children of Avalon, you can aid this child as he grows, but there are simply not enough of you to be of much use. You know that Avalon's work is accomplished more through influence and connections in useful places than in blatant displays of power. Our Descendents number much more than us, the so-called "purebloods," and have more freedoms to move about in the Outer World than we do. It may prove that our side will benefit from our Descendents' connections in government and other areas. They may be the key to our victory."
"Forgive me High Lady, but may I ask why you cannot teach in the Outer World?" Angela asked hesitantly.
"I would not be trusted in the Outer World. I have no background for others to base their judgments on. If I were to reveal who I am, even then none would trust me. To the Outer World, my husband was killed by my hand; no loving parent would commit their child to the care of a murderess, even a perceived one."
"What would you have us do?" Flora inquired. "How much time do we have to train these children?"
"There are a few years for us to be ready to aid this child. We must use what little time we have to prepare our people for battle."
"Schools then, High Lady?" Angela suggested quietly.
"Yes, Angela, but seek ways to limit the Ministry's oversight of your curriculum, if possible, or at the very least, avoid their close scrutiny. I should not need to elaborate the consequences of the Ministry's interference. They might mean well, but they are not sworn to protect our secrets. There are as many friends of ours in the Ministry as there are enemies. Your professors need not be of Avalon blood and it would be perhaps best that they are not."
"High Lady," Flora pointed out, "the Outer World has forgotten so much of Avalon's power and some things are just best left forgotten. We have within our reach knowledge that none but the Source should possess and powers that none but the Source should wield. What should we teach these children?"
"Avalon magic as well as the power of music," said the High Lady after a few moments of thought.
"Wandless magic then, as it was practiced in the days when you both walked in the Outer World by King Arthur's side?" confirmed Flora.
"Yes."
Nimuë's voice went from serious to slightly teasing as she said to Flora, "That reminds me…my Daughter, you are with a child so soon after your Outer World marriage and before your Avalon marriage vows. What shall Fate throw next?"
Flora blushed as she replied, "I was getting around to making arrangements. It was just that there were other…pressing matters to take care of first."
The silvery tinkling of bells drew the attention of the three women and their conversation ceased. Angela stood up and carefully removed Nimuë's white cloak from its hook at the same moment the High Lady touched it. Nimuë looked at her agent with a grateful expression and Angela nodded in return as she let go of the soft material. The cloak swirled around the High Lady as she draped it across her shoulders and fastened the ornate silver clasp. Flora, meanwhile, had gone to open the door to the chambers.
"The Council calls, my Daughters. Please, walk with me." The High Lady's voice became formal.
"Very well High Lady." Angela and Flora fell into step behind the High Lady's white cloak as she stepped out into the corridors, escorting her to the clearing where the Children of Avalon were gathering. The trio passed through dreary stone corridors that, with the creak of an old wooden door, changed to gleaming white marble that reflected the weak starlight coming in through the second-level balcony windows. Lanterns hung from ornamental metal hooks, their flickering light creating a welcoming, yet aloof, atmosphere.
They passed by the massive wood doors that were utilized normally for Avalon marriages, in which non-Avalon spouses would gain the same protective spells and charms as their Avalon spouses; for the rite of passage ceremonies for adolescents who were ready to serve the High Rulers, or for the somber funerals of Descendents and Children that were beginning to occur with far too much frequency those days. Instead, Angela held open the small iron service door that was tucked away in a small corner of the temple. Once out in the night air, the three women then took a winding dirt path down the hillside to the valley in which Council was held among the ancient trees.
Author's Note/Disclaimer: Thanks to Ruth and Beth for all of their help and advice. Anything that seems familiar does not belong to me. Thank you for reading!