Wandering Home
By: Aelia O'Hession
Prologue
Disclaimer: I own none of the King Arthur character, places, etc. I am a poor history student. I have nothing to give you, so suing is out of the option. Sorry. However, my original characters are mine, though some are slightly under sub-contract. But no need to get into the technical terms.
A/N: This thought has been bouncing around in my head for a while. This is a trail run. I'm not sure if it will be continued or not. I'm going to rely on you, dear readers to give me a yay or nay.
Prologue
A crisp chill began to settle in as evening fell. It was the kind of chill that makes travelers pull their cloaks closer. The forest is vibrant with the changing autumn colors glinting with dew in the fading light. The early autumn leaves fall softly to the forest floor, disturbed only by the scurry of little field mice. Gentle silence enfolds this forest, the natural rhythms of life constantly flowing. Birdsong floats by, and the calls of wolves echo though the stillness of the evening. But there is another presence here this evening.
Cloaked and hidden beneath hoods, three figures make their way along the half hidden narrow path. They exchange no conversation as they pass along; nothing needs to be said. They are trying not to disturb the flow of life here. These figures are merely passing through. Despite the solemn image that these three strike, there are hints of vibrancy.
From beneath a cloak of deep russet, a few honey colored wisps of hair peek out. Bright copper curls fight the restraint of a storm blue cloak. The forest green cloak flashes a hint of deep auburn hair.
These possessors of hidden vibrancy move with purpose. Their boot clad feet move with surety along one of the many paths that the Mother Goddess has placed before them. Their thoughts resound as a mantra to the Goddess. Though we have cursed ye, though we have turned our backs on ye, we have not forgotten ye. Ye are our Mother, the one who guides us through all. We shall not forget ye, even when it seems as though ye have abandoned us. We three are yours, and as we will, so mote it be.
Emerging from the serenity of the forest, they are met by an open hilly field. The emerald grass tumbles along with the rolling hills before it stopped by a wall. This wall is no mere farmer's wall designed for keeping the sheep in their grazing pastures. Hadrian's Wall; a formidable structure designed to keep things out. This sturdy stone wall runs the width of the island. Behind it, the most famous Knights are garrisoned. The legendary Arthur Castus rules here, under the influence of the world dominating Romans.
The forest green cloak motions to the Wall. A nod of agreement comes from the russet and storm blue. This is their destination. After long months of hard travel in a foreign land, they have reached a place that may offer refuge to them. They are not running; they are taking action against what could be the death of them.
Goddess Mother, Creator f All, this is our plea. Guide us through these times of heartache and fear. We ask Elen of the Ways to guide us along this path we walk. Though our feet may wander, we will always come back to you. As we will, so mote it be!