Over the next few days I stayed with Gaius. He tried to get me to talk some more, but I didn't feel like it. He also asked me for help with little things when he was making his potions or processing his herbs. It was nice to do something. It made me feel less in the way. But in the nights, I was scared. Everyone was. The shadow beings, which Gaius said was called the Dorocha, came all over Camelot when it was dark. We needed to bring torches everywhere to fend them off. I was scared to leave Gaius' room. When he had to go at night and care for the dead, I sat stock-still on the bunk with a burning torch in my hands and candles lit all over the room. I was so afraid that they would come smashing through the windows, rush through my body and take my soul with them to whichever dreadful place of horror they came from. But it never happened and Gaius returned every night. When the sun rose, we went to sleep and most often woke just past noon.
One night, the Dorocha came back as usual. But then they vanished again, long before sunrise. We were reluctant to believe they were gone for good. But they did not come back the next night or the next again, and then on the third morning, Prince Arthur, his knights and Merlin returned to the castle and they said it was really true. And I heard the story of how Sir Lancelot had sacrificed his own life to close the rift that had been made in the veil between the worlds. He must have been very brave, but I was mostly just grateful it was not Percival who had taken it upon himself to do it. I looked at him through the window facing the courtyard. He was so wonderful. If he had died, I would want to die too.
Percival
Percival would have liked to stay near Drea to be able to check up on her, but for now, Arthur needed him by his side. After visiting Clunsdale it was soon decided that they must go to the Isle of the Blessed. Their quest was to repair the veil that Morgana had torn between the world of the living and the world of the dead. That was the only way to be free of the Dorocha, as Gaius called the dreadful spirit beings.
The quest became yet another one of the most testing moments in Percival's life, as well as in the lives of Arthur, Merlin and the other knights. Percival had his doubts whether any of them would return to Camelot alive. But it became Sir Lancelot who paid with his life, and they returned marked by the loss of their friend. Lancelot had always been the very image of chivalry. The Dorocha were gone, but the price had been so very high. Percival could tell that Arthur was mourning over him, perhaps even blaming himself for what had happened.
But Arthur's trials were only beginning. Not long after, he also mourned the loss of his father and must ascend the throne and bear the burdens that went with it himself. Percival was as proud as ever to serve King Arthur of Camelot. But the days were dark. Some unseen powers always seemed to work against the new King. If trouble were not brewing in the east, they could be sure that they were doing so in the three other corners of the world.
Even though his service to Arthur kept him occupied almost around the clock that year, Percival did not forget about Drea. The impression she had made on him that one morning when he had picked her up on the high road, was a lasting one. And for some time he deliberated what course of action he should take regarding her. But no matter how he looked at the matter, he always came back to the same devastating conclusion: That he could take no course of action at all. He only wanted to talk to her, make sure she was safe and that she saw him as a friend whom she could turn to should the need arise. But because she was so young, any kind of interest that he might show her would only be misinterpreted by her caretakers as well as his own friends. A part of him felt that it did not matter what other people thought. But he was a knight of Camelot. His duties to King Arthur came first. But maybe one day, when she was older …
Percival learned that Drea had been apprenticed to a basket maker in the lower town. From time to time he saw her when he was on guard there. It could be months in between, but she always looked the same. To the eyes of the world she might just look like any other poor girl, but to Percival, she looked so very beautiful. The trouble was, she also always looked pained and unhappy. Something must be wrong in her life. He wished ardently that he could do something to help her. He would seize any opportunity, but none ever arose.
