19 Twilight of the Gods
"Take it away, Algernon" Morgause whispered as she fell back on her pillow. "I've seen more than enough."
Cautiously the Druid put the crystal orb with the image of the sleeping Armand fading inside it on the shelf of the High Priestess' private room. He had sensed her reaching out for her beloved one last time. But of course it would have been unbelievably rude for any magician to mention that he witnessed such a private moment.
"You're sure you do not want the crystal anymore?" Algernon asked Morgause softly. "Now that you've cast the spell of retreat, it will not show us the outer world much longer."
"I am sure" Morgause replied in a weak voice, but sternly. "I knew what price I would have to pay. We all did. The other Priests and Priestesses, you and your Elders. And Khilgarrah. To give your Druids and the peoples of Albion a chance for a normal, quiet life in a world without magic, we had to abandon it for good."
"That's not all the Council decided" Algernon replied drily. "It was wise to keep that little detail from the Great Dragon."
Morgause bit her lip and turned her face to the wall.
"It won't become easier by ignoring it, Most Revered Lady."
The High Priestess frowned irritably, but kept silent.
"The dragon may roam the wild parts of the Isle for a while, as his master does not call for him" the Druid insisted "but eventually Khilgarrah will come to see his Dragonlord."
"Why should he not see him?" Morgause asked. "By then... it will be done."
"The dragon will be furious. Emrys' pains are his as well."
Morgause smiled bitterly. "They can blame me all they want. The decision was mine to make and soon I will be beyond all punishment."
Algernon sighed heavily. "Neither of this does comfort me, My Lady. Besides, it's not true. You were forced into this decision by the others..." He took her hand and tried to bring some comforting warmth and joy into his face. He failed miserably, but Morgause didn't let him know.
"Yes, my own Priests and your Elders urged me to do it!" she said. "But in the end, I will perform the ritual. It will be their will, but my deed. I am the High Priestess until I die."
"Which is, unfortunately, an event soon to occur. You could just wait until it is too late. I doubt any of the others would be powerful enough to take on your sister."
"Not without the Druids' help, no" Morgause replied bewildered "as the dragon cannot be asked for support, not without Merlin's consent. But I thought you agreed."
"My Elders agreed, not I" Algernon said violently. "Had it been for me to decide, I would not have any part in this."
"Don't tempt me, my friend" she begged. "I've thought of nothing but postponement, every minute since the Council met. But it cannot be. Once Morgana came here, it was only a question of time until her secret was revealed."
"You brought her here, My Lady."
"I never intended her to stay. Not until you came, with your great plan for peace in Albion by taking magic from the real world." Morgause left the rest of it unspoken. Alone, and discredited by her lack of insight into her Chosen Consort's true character, she had suffered a terrible defeat in the Isle's Council of Priests and Elders. Nobody had believed her when she'd claimed that Morgana and her child could be trusted to live peacefully on the Isle once all ways to the outer world were blocked.
Algernon, at her last words, shook his head. "We could have sent Emrys and Morgana to the outside world before we left it. Instead we made our decisions without them, sentencing them without even telling them why."
Morgause pulled her hand away. Some of the old fierce strength and stubborn defiance came back to her face. When she glared at him, the heat of her wrath radiated from her.
The Druid rose and retreated a few steps. She was dying, she was weak and all her dreams lay shattered, yet still, until her last breath, she was the Lady of the Isle.
"Both Merlin's and Morgana's magic is - different" the High Priestess hissed. "Nobody knew what the withdrawal of magic would do to them, had they been in the outside world. They could have died."
The Druid snorted. "Perhaps they would have preferred it that way."
"It wasn't right" Morgause objected. "Their role in the Great Mother's plan is too important. I told the Council what the crystal told me – they must be taken from this world but they must not die. Their fate is – suspended."
"They're not the only ones with a fate in a limbo" Algernon snarled softly. He gazed out of the window that overlooked a small forum in front of the inner temple.
People had already gathered. Officially, it was the traditional feast of the first full moon of autumn tonight.
Idiotic idea, come to think of it. From now on, presumably until the end of time itself, it would always be full moon over the Isle of the Blessed. This day, the day on which the Isle had left the real world, would endlessly repeat itself, the sun would rise in the morning, set in the evening, the moon would rise and set again. No seasons would come and go, the weather would never change.
Magic, the power that had left the real world to be concentrated on the Isle, would provide for all that was needed.
Algernon already dreaded the inevitable philosophical debate if eating food that had been mentally conjured up by magic could be called eating at all. What if someone tried to starve himself to death, only to find out that his hunger had been an illusion in the first place? That there was no real need to eat or drink or build or do anything anymore?
Oh, of course they could paint the green walls red and the red walls green for a change. They could destroy the houses; build new ones in their places. They could rewrite all 7.777 Sacred Texts of the Old Religion.
But then, nobody would care if they did not.
They could debate, though. On who was to be chosen as the head of this temple and who was right as the head of that temple. Very important in a community in which decisions, organisation, work and strife were superfluous.
Well, if they would not debate on politics they could always debate on philosophy or religion. For example, how the Christians were fool enough to believe God was male, while every sensible person in this world could clearly see that the invisible being had to be female. Oh, this was fascinating, at least a year, if not longer, they could split hairs about that one.
But, as no Christians were there to crush with smart and irrefutable argument, even this pleasure would grow stale in the end.
Undisturbed peace and quiet, quiet and peace, for the same five hundred and fifty eight people, Priests, Druids and other magicians, in a village outside time.
Algernon shuddered. He and the Druid Elders had bought their people's survival at the cost of a living death for themselves.
An eternity of getting up in the morning to do nothing that could not be done tomorrow, or next week, or not at all. Of going to bed in the evening, knowing that tomorrow would be like yesterday. They would live on in this confined space, day after day, night after night. Nobody would ever grow older.
No child would be born, nobody would die. So strong was the concentrated magic's protective power that it could not be broken by an accident or even by suicide but only by a sorcerer's premeditated act of murderous violence.
"You can't say I did not try to make amends for my mistakes" Morgause's voice interrupted the Druid's thoughts. "I did what I could to give Camelot a chance."
"True enough" Algernon replied, touched by the guilt that resounded in her words. By the desperate plea for forgiveness that underlined them. "I still say you had no right to enchant the scabbard and bind your own life force to Excalibur, Morgause. If Arthur knew, he'd never use sword or sheath again."
"So much the better that he doesn't know. A life for a life, if sword and scabbard are to protect him, they must feed on another life force, powerful enough to let the spell live. Would you rather I'd ordered one of my Priests to sacrifice himself to make Arthur invulnerable?"
"Yes" Algernon said. He saw her wince at that, and grinned mirthlessly. "For all the grudges I'm holding against you and your Blessed Isle, My Lady – as High Priestesses come, we could have done worse than choosing you for the job."
"We?" Morgause asked derisively. "Tread carefully, serf. The Druids' opinion wasn't asked when I was given the office."
"Nor did you consult us when you decided to die once Arthur's life had become dependent on the spell. To have your life transferred to Excalibur and the scabbard you made."
"I knew the risk. I thought, there might be no war, and the spell's protection would not be needed."
"Do not take me for a fool, Morgause. You knew you would die and you wanted to die!"
"Why would I want that?"
Algernon snorted. "I wasn't the first one who came up with the idea of taking magic from the world, thereby isolating the Isle of the Blessed from reality. It took me barely ten minutes to convince you. You must have pondered the concept for a long time before the idea even occurred to me."
"As you can see in my sister's fate, not all the consequences were clear to me" the High Priestess retorted. "However, it has nothing to do with my alleged death wish. I never lacked the necessary courage for my office."
"And here I was" Algernon replied acidly "thinking that it might have been a streak of humble human cowardice in your otherwise saintly character, oh most august Lady. You destroyed the bridges between Isle and reality; only you can rebuild them. If you had lived on with us, in this nightmare of perfect bliss and happiness – who knows, you might have thirsted for real life enough to countermand your spell one day. Now, with your life force being caged in the sword and scabbard, safely beyond our reach in the outside world, in the hands of a clueless Arthur, you are beyond this danger!"
"Not everyone would pity you and the others for immortality in a peaceful world."
"You sound very Christian for a High Priestess, Morgause. They always promised me a better world waiting for us all, just around the corner, if only I was willing to die for it. They too always said 'All hail' to those who are too lazy or too deeply hurt to live for the mortal, imperfect world Mother Nature made her gift to us."
"Is that an insult, serf?"
"Just the moaning of an old man who finds it hard to live with the consequences of his own actions."
"If you ever become a Christian, Algernon, they should christen you 'Thomas'. For doubt should be your second name" Morgause scolded.
He bent his head in mock deference. "It's true, I cherish my doubts. Today I doubt you will go through with your plan in the end. It's not in you, to betray your own sister like that."
"Who are you, stranger? What have you done to Algernon, the Druid Chieftain who was the first to throw a verbal stone at my sister? Who first spoke of abomination, unnatural powers and such like?"
"Yes" Algernon admitted. "It's true. But now, that it is going to be a real stone – would you believe me if I said that I regretted much of what I did or said in my life, but never more than I regret my self-righteous babbling about Morgana?"
The High Priestess raised a hand and let it fall to the blanket again. If she rejected or acknowledged Algernon's remorse, she did not say. "Did you do with Merlin and my sister as you've been ordered by the Council?" she asked.
"I did" the Druid confirmed grudgingly. "What I have given them should be enough to knock out a horse for a many hours."
"Let's hope it does" Morgause muttered. "I'm in no state to wrestle with them."
"Here they come" Algernon said tensely as he spotted the Council members gathering on the forum.
"Quick, help me up" Morgause gasped. Her hands shook when she tidied her official robes and she inhaled sharply when she stepped out of her room. Algernon had to support her on the stairs.
By rights, Arthur should have died during the last battle, many times. As he lived on, Excalibur and the scabbard sucked Morgause's life out of her. Once she had become one with blade and sheath, her life force and the spell it sustained would be the only piece of magic left in the outside world.
The High Priestess was fading quickly now. Algernon could sense her strength ebbing away as the spell she'd created did its work. Yet, when she left her own threshold, she looked as serene and composed as ever.
She nodded gravely at her fellow magicians when she joined them on the forum. Algernon scrutinized their faces. Guilt, embarrassment, the wish to get this over with – it was all there but even so, not one of them would listen to any pleas for mercy.
Algernon's heart ached and he felt sick. He was mortified. And yet he continued to do the will of his Elders and superiors, as he had done all his life, and rarely with less conviction.
Together they entered the sanctuary of the inner temple, a huge, dimly lit room in the centre of the building.
Around the massive altar, carved out of one piece of black marble, the Council gathered, the whole assembly of Priests and Druids, twice the dozen, as the ancient ritual demanded it.
On the altar two still figures, hand in hand, a man and a visibly pregnant woman; both sleeping.
"I'm sorry, Morgana" the High Priestess whispered. Her fingers brushed over her sister's hand. "Please, oh, please, forgive me."
Supported by the 24 other schooled magicians, Morgause performed the whole ritual that would lock Morgana, her unborn child and the warlock born of legends into the realms of dream, forever banished from the outside world as well as from the remaining world of magic, until the day the stars would fall from the sky or the Isle was to return to the outside world.
Algernon did not know whether to admire or loath Morgause for her composure.
When it was done the others sneaked out of the room like scolded kids. Finally, Morgause and Algernon were alone, but for the still figures on the altar.
The Druid thought he might say something. The woman in front of him was swaying on her feet, clearly exhausted. She was sick, she'd risen from her deathbed to do this to her sister and fellow magician.
But he kept quiet.
He wanted to pity Morgause and could not.
She pulled herself together and straightened her back before her eyes flashed golden one last time.
Algernon watched crystal walls building themselves all around Morgana's and Merlin's bodies with incredible speed, until they were completely encased by them. Their eyes were closed, their hearts were still, they did not breathe. And yet they looked behind the glass as if they were sleeping. Sleeping in a coffin made of diamond.
The Druid reached inside him, to the place where he had always found his link to Emrys. Where he could always feel him, rely on him.
But there was nothing. Nothing at all.
Algernon thought of this morning, twelve hours ago. Merlin and Morgana, both unsuspecting, both trusting, unaware of any cause for sadness or danger. Morgause had managed to keep everything from them, the Isle's retreat from this world, Arthur's perils and most of all, their own fate. They had both relished in the thought that in a few days from now they'd go home to Camelot. Merlin had been optimistic, full of plans. He had talked and talked all morning about what he and Arthur would do to restore peace. Until the baby had begun kicking inside her mother, and both parents were absorbed into the life signs of their unborn daughter.
The Druid had had no difficulty at all lacing their wine with a sleeping draught.
"What have we done to them, Morgause? We promised them they would be safe with us. We gave them our word! When you persuaded them to stay with us much longer than they wanted, after my arrival, after you decided to not let them leave, you said it was for Morgana's safe pregnancy and deliverance of the child."
"They're not dead" Morgause repeated, like a mantra "they're just – sleeping. It was the only concession the Council was willing to make. You were there, you know I'm right."
"Where is the difference?" Algernon retorted. "Do you call that life?" and his outstretched arm pointed at the limp bodies. "We did kill them. My peoples' saviour, foretold in legends older than time. And your own sister!"
"There was no other choice" the High Priestess said again. "We could not..."
Morgause stopped, touched her throat, stumbled. Her eyes widened.
Algernon was at her side with one stride, and yet he came too late. She fell to the ground, silently.
As the Druid turned her, her open eyes stared blindly at the glass coffin on the marble altar.
The Lady of the Isle was dead.
The compassion he'd been unable to feel earlier, suddenly it filled every fibre of Algernon's heart. He screamed his wrath and remorse at the walls, until his voice broke and he could scream no longer.
The uproar brought one of the Druid Elders back into the sanctuary. Ignoring Algernon's now openly flowing tears, he knelt down by Morgause's side, groaning as he did so, and felt for her pulse. "Dead" he stated superfluously. "Must have been quick, though. She did not suffer."
"No, you pompous asshole" Algernon said hoarsely. "But she did a lot of suffering before she died."
The Elder stared at him and what he saw made him flinch. "We'll have to choose a new head of the Isle by tomorrow" he said with feigned calm. "The ancient rules must be obeyed."
The elderly Druid gasped when Algernon grabbed him by the collar and dragged him to his feet, choking him mercilessly. "You, old man, if you haven't done enough obedience to some stupid superstitious rules today, I can make up some rules of my own that you wouldn't like. It's not as if I had anything else to do."
"Let go of me" the old man demanded "I am your Elder and you have to..."
"Piss on your authority, as I should have done years ago" Algernon ranted. "Look at what you've brought about us all, you and your foolish prejudices."
Before the other could think of a fitting reply, more people rushed into the temple sanctuary, scared and horrified. "The dragon" one of them shrieked. "He's coming. He doesn't heed our orders."
Algernon grinned savagely when he looked at the Elder in his grip. "Looks as if we are going to meet the Great Mother tonight after all. What do you say to that, old man?"
Without waiting for an answer, the Druid pushed the Elder away from him. "Get out of here, inside the temple" he commanded the others. "I will talk to Khilgarrah. Whoever wishes to can join me."
It was with grim amusement that Algernon saw his compatriots and the other magicians hastily retreat deeper into the building. These presumptuous fools had thought of everything but of the fact that the Great Dragons formed a magical power in their own right. The Isle's authority over them had been accepted out of insight and courtesy, not necessity.
If Khilgarrah decided to avenge his Dragonlord's ill fate on them all, nobody could hinder him.
All of a sudden, Algernon remembered the old King of Camelot.
Uther the King and Algernon the Druid Chieftain, both had been true believers all their lives, but only Uther had been cut out for Holy Wars. Algernon preferred to avoid them, or prevent them, by foul means or fair.
Did that make him a true Druid or just a coward?
Was slaying Christians for their believes, misguided as they might sometimes seem to others, anything better than slaying innocent magicians for their powers, even if they had never used them for evil?
To Algernon, the answer to that question would always be 'no'. But as the Great Dragon always said "the evil that comes from your doings, may they come from hatred, may they come from love or pity, will always be a part of you."
Khilgarrah would not forget, or forgive, what the others had done to his Dragonlord today. And, now that the Isle had left the real world, they were all trapped here, together, to all eternity.
Indeed, if Uther Pendragon had had the chance to create a special hell for sorcerers, he could not have come up with a place more suitable than the Isle of the Blessed was now.
With legs heavy as lead, the Druid walked out to face the enraged Great Dragon alone. "If he dragon finishes me off, here and now" Algernon thought "I might still have the better of the bargain."