Rebirth

Chapter 7: Avalon's Origin

Avalon had quite an appetite finishing two plates of rice and chicken Maya had prepared over the flames. She watched the other with a grin. It reminded her of Kazan's eating habits except that Avalon ate in a rather mechanical manner as if the act was foreign to him and he was merely emulating what he had seen.

"Do you have any plans, Avalon?" Maya asked curiously.

"Perhaps you should ask me that in a few more days. I've only now discovered that I was alive even more promised that I wouldn't continue what I had set out to do."

"Strange how you should change your mind so easily. Before, eleven years ago, you were completely set on creating your utopia and wiping out this world in the process."

"You do remember also that I was defeated. A true God isn't capable of being defeated by a few angered Mystics—obviously I wasn't the god I had proclaimed myself to be, though quite powerful. You see, I had eleven years to contemplate these things. Eleven years to punch gaping holes into the reasoning I clung onto."

"Maybe that's why your life was spared. You realized your mistakes and that deed is a difficult task to accomplish."

"So it is."

Avalon's eyes were no longer looking at her becoming again transfixed on the flames dancing before him.

"I'm glad for you," Maya congratulated the other.

Maya received no response from this and soon a heavy silence fell upon them, but the quietness was comfortable. Neither had anything important to tell the other and so they sat contently in each other's company. The silence however, was broken when Kazan decided to show up opening the front door and coming in.

"Ah, so our favorite Mystic has finally decided to wake," Kazan proclaimed.

Avalon sent a wary look towards the other. No doubt that Avalon recognized the other. He was one of the four Mystics that had brought about his end eleven years ago.

"You know, Kazan, you were out longer than usual today."

"I got a little sidetracked."

"Close the door," Avalon said to Kazan.

"Oh, I'm sorry, am I making it a little uncomfortable?"

"Kazan," Maya said urgently.

"Alright, Maya, no need to work yourself up."

Kazan noticed that Avalon was rather sensitive to the cold and closed the door presently.

"Did you eat anything yet?" Maya asked Kazan.

"I'm fine," Kazan answered as he sat down beside Maya, "I ate something at Suza's house."

"Why am I not surprised?"

Kazan grinned at the other, "So, did I miss anything significant?"

"No, nothing really."

Then Kazan's gaze turned to Avalon, "And how about you? Are you planning to stay longer?"

"Yes he is," May said before Avalon could respond.

"Well, I suppose that's fair," Kazan said, "While you're here, though, perhaps we should get to know each other a little better."

"Kazan, you always insist on telling stories around the fire each night and now you're forcing our guest to do it too?"

"I don't mind," Avalon said simply.

Maya looked at him a little surprised, "You sure? We don't mean to pry into your personal business."

"You're not prying if I've already agreed to it."

"That's what I like to hear," Kazan said, "Now…what would a good topic be?"

Maya looked at him crossly and hoped that he wouldn't think of something too outrageous.

"How did you first call forth your origin?—since we're all Mystics here."

"Avalon, you don't have to say anything if you down want to. I know that you've just lost—

"It's quite fine, Maya," Avalon said dismissing her worries, "Besides, I'd like to go first—if that's alright with you, Kazan."

"Perfectly."

"Alright then," Avalon said taking a deep breath.

Maya's eyes remained on Avalon, but she couldn't tell if he was tired or not, sad or relieved, but soon these things didn't matter as she became caught up in his story:

/

There was once a boy named Richard who was quite minuscule in size with a rather unimposing stature. He was born with hair like an old man—white, flecked with gray strands. His eyes though were even stranger. At first, one might've thought they were a light brown hazel, but further observation found that they were indeed gold. His eyes would sparkle and shine in even the darkest of places and become like two glittering suns in the night.

Because he knew his appearance seemed rather odd, Richard opted to stay inside behind closed doors. The majority of the time he spent taking care of his mother or at the very least a woman that had decided to take him in. She was a hard woman to please and during Richard's first few years with her, he would always find himself under her wrath. It was only when he became akin to a perfectionist did he win her affection, but by that time he was covered in lash marks. This didn't bother him for he loved his mother. She fed him and gave him a place to stay—what more could he ask for?—he who had only known poverty and feared ever going back to it.

One day, he was forced to leave the security of his home. Usually, his mother would take it upon herself to buy food for the house, but today she was unable to do so. She too feared how the outside would react to him, but their food stores were so exhausted that it was impossible to simply wait another day. So Richard was given some money—five hundred pieces of gold—and a partially long list of food they needed. She had tried to shorten it the best she could and had only left him with the necessities.

The day was early when he left—a vain attempt to avoid a crowd of people. As soon as he stepped outside, he was frightened. The world was too new to him. Where were the walls? Where was the structure and order? Why was the ceiling so far away and blue? Why did it seem like the world never ended? He felt small and insignificant as he crept down the trail from the house to the market.

There were so many different noises he had to get used to. Birds chirping, leaves rustling, wind passing by, people shouting, animals barking, meowing, and clicking. What strange place had he fallen into?

His voice was shy and small as he walked up to a vendor telling him what he wanted to buy. "Speak up, boy!" they would all say, but his voice didn't get much louder. As his tiny voice tried to cut through all the surrounding noise, curious eyes would study his appearance. Richard's cheeks were burning red by the time he managed to collect all the food. Nothing would please him more than to be at home again with his mother.

The trail he had taken to get there was long and winding requiring a bit of energy. Richard discovered that he was hungry having skipped breakfast in his overwhelming fear of this day. He still had a few pieces of gold left. It was enough to buy a decent meal for his size. He decided right then and there that he would do this and he soon found a woman who was selling beef kabobs fresh off the grill. He handed her 10 pieces of gold and he received the food. It was a simple process. Yet he was only allowed one bite when he became surrounded suddenly by a group of five boys.

Richard vaguely remembered their faces. He had seen them at various times as he went from vendor to vendor, now here they were all gathered in one spot. They spurted out some nonsense that he just as soon forgot. He wasn't listening only searching for an escape. There was none and they moved in closer and closer. Fear was clearly written on Richard's face—it merely spurned the other boys on giving them courage. They had nothing better to do, justified with absolutely no reason, but they were completely certain of what they should do next. A murderous glint was in their eyes. Richard cowered in the face of their superiority.

And so the scuffle began. Fear only hindered Richard's ultimate reaction to the circumstances. Punch after punch struck his face and body. One of them tried to hold him down when he tried to escape. That was the moment a throttling sense of hopelessness overtook him. He was near the point of unconsciousness when he began to wish fervently that it would all just end. He wished that he was within the security of his home. He wished he could be back with his mother and show her how perfectly he had accomplished his task. Now it all seemed impossible. Everything was ruined.

As he laid there abandoned now with bags of ruined foods scattered on the ground, a feeling of despair began to envelope him. Mother would be angry—the phrase continued to repeat in his mind like a mantra. He pulled the crumpled brown bags towards him and began to gather the food, most of which were dirtied, broken, or splattered. His hands became shaky as he tried to handle the food one by one. They wouldn't stop shaking despite his attempts to steady them. And then he quit gathering the food as it became too distracting. He was unable to handle anything.

A crowd of curious market people began to surround him. Not only was his appearance strange now his actions were encouraging attention. All Richard saw were gathering feet. The shivering began to spread to his entire body—but it wasn't cold outside. There was something else happening.

He was still on his knees when he was overtaken by a blinding light. A great burst of energy flooded through his veins and welcoming warmth began to encircle him. A voice said to him full of fortitude and majesty, "I'll take you, child."

Then a ghostlike creature appeared before him brilliant and luminescent. His claw-like hands reached out to Richard. He should've been scared of the strange apparition, but somehow he wasn't. In response, Richard took up the creature's hand and he felt a surge of confidence flow into him. When Richard looked around, he found that he was back at the house. Beside him still stood the golden translucent entity. "You may call me, Igohl," he said to Richard in his commanding tone. Richard didn't have the presence of mind to offer his own name, but Igohl already knew it. "M-my food," Richard began in a panic, "Mother will be mad."

"Peace, child, she may not be as upset as you think. Take a look inside."

Richard did so and went quickly to her bedside. She looked rather peaceful, but far too still. She was no longer breathing, Richard realized. Then he began to panic. He called her name over and over again, but she refused to come to. There was nothing left to do as he stood solemnly watching her corpse.

"Your name sounds weak," Igohl proclaimed.

"But my mother likes that name."

"She's dead."

Richard shuttered at the reality of the situation. There was no one to take care of him—he was utterly alone.

"I have a name for you. One that you will soon grow into: Avalon."

The name sounded outlandish and Richard told the other this, but Igohl wouldn't have any of it. "Come, child, we must move on. There is nothing for you here." But even then, Richard hesitated. He ran to the back of the house to take up a shovel and then he took it to the side of the house where the ground was soft. Impatiently, Igohl watched the would-be Avalon dig a hole that was just large enough to fit a full grown woman. Igohl watched the small boy struggle as he carried his mother to her makeshift grave and then as he put the upturned earth on top of the body. She needed a gravestone, but Igohl convinced Richard that it was not needed.

They left together—from that time and ever since.

/

"Of course, until he decided that I was no longer worthy," Avalon finished.

As hard as she tried, Maya couldn't picture the "Avalon" he portrayed in his story. Weakness and shyness were words she would never use to describe Avalon. She couldn't imagine his name ever being Richard—the name sounded too mundane.

Maya and Kazan were silent for a while as their minds slowly took in the story. Avalon's story had started with abuse, then moved to fear, next pain, followed by death, and finally abandonment. Maya understood that Avalon wasn't looking for pity, but it was hard not to feel that way about him after hearing such a harshly realistic story.

Igohl was the beginning of it all, Maya realized. He was what began Richard's transformation into the man he was now.

"So, you're like Lang—you don't know who your real mother is," Kazan commented.

"I know who she is," Avalon stated, "But that information was only revealed to me recently."

Avalon didn't seem like he was going to elaborate on this so Kazan simply let the matter rest.

"Well," Kazan said tapping his knees once with his palms, "I suppose it's time that I went next."

Maya looked up at Avalon and saw that his expression did seem a bit dreary. Igohl was so much more to him than a simple sidekick. He was supposed to be the one to lead Avalon on a new path. Avalon had run away from all he had ever known solely on Igohl's instruction. Something told Maya that Igohl had had more influence over Avalon than what was healthy—something told her that now, Avalon was completely lost.