“It would seem your sister dearest is having trouble.” Viviane flicks her hand as if having touched something unpleasant, “Merlin wasn’t the best teacher of supposedly darker magics. Hogwash really, all magic is amoral. You could do more harm healing a rapist than raising a skeleton to plow your field.”
Arthur cares not for such ruminating yet the points are heard, “Half, Half-sister… She is trying to call forth Lancelot? He didn’t care much for her by my recollection. Only as a means to separate my wife from me. Should I be expecting more of these unholy reunions from you?”
Our Lady of the Lake pouts, insincerely to Arthur’s reckoning, her hair still blonde as the sun.
“This cannot be unholy by very nature that such a concept is purely subjective and I am the caster. Were it a mortal calling forth spirits in spite of the god whom they belong, such as Miss Le Fay, that could be called unholy.”
“She holds Lancelot’s soul in a reliquary.” Her lips turn a sharp grin, “I have your unfaithful wife, we could have her reborn a toad if you like.”
It is a small temptation, but would be far too petty. The once king sighs, “No, she did not wield the blade, simply let him in the door. Morgan was the voice of treason in all this. I’ve no doubt barely a day passed before she poisoned Guinevere.”
Playful she may ever seem, Viviane is proud of her champion at this moment.
Not that she’d tell him, “So no toads?”
“No, I’m sure we can find a more suitable form for her repentance.” To his own surprise, Arthur chuckles.
Then he recalls the final agent in his demise, “And what of the man that led rebellion, Mordred. His actions are what led to that night are they not?”
“Perhaps,” her smile is a soft and mournful one, “Yourself, Guinevere, Lancelot, Mordred, and Morgan, all led such a tangled weave. Even now I can’t parse fate from ill fortune.”
Several minutes pass while Arthur considers her unexpected answer, sifting through his memory. An instinct tugs at his attention and he knows the present will not wait.
“Now, I see a squirrel headed down the stairs yet how will the poor creature see?”
Viviane resists darting off to give it scritches, “Let Sibyl feel your will to guide it to the pond. Our water spirit will drown it, then you shall restore it, binding it’s soul. Meanwhile the light is a good point. Perhaps Sibyl may find fireflies along the lake. Later we may alter some nuts to glow on the branch? Think for yourself a bit, sheesh.”
Arthur drones, “More necromancy now is it?”
She mocks, “More necromancy now is it?” Her hair turns a shade red, “Only if you have a desire for zombie nut hoarders. Just revive the thing.”
Never would such a storied leader of men imagine his patron saint had such a childish side. Perhaps it's best not to judge someone who’s just left centuries of dereliction.
While watching the nervous critter a thought strikes Arthur, “You called Morgan mortal, how is she even here?”
It’s Viviane’s turn to laugh, “Her form now fits her soul, she’s a succubus.” then gains a certain lecturing quality that Arthur loathes, “So comparatively, a mortal, just with a few spare lives banked up and free from age so long as she feeds. That damn scabbard is what kept her alive long enough for the great departure. Thankfully she didn’t get to bring it.”
“Deviltry suits her,” he stiffly agrees before trying to change the subject, “so for my first grand miracle of healing, without Excalibur, a red tailed squirrel.”
The water spirit had just struck like the eel it once was before enclosing the critter in one of it’s bubbles. It twiched, truly Arthur could not be considered apathetic as he loathed any manner of slow death be it squirrel or his fated enemy.
With the deed done, Arthur hesitates, “You’re not going to rip someone else from heaven and stuff them in this squirrel are you?”
What could be considered a jest is taken seriously by the goddess as it was intended, “The day Merlin saw fit to aid your father Uther, all that came after under the name Pendragon was cleaved from history proper and subject to the departure. Some legacies and stories remain on old earth, but we are here.”
Ghostly images form in the pool, two familiar men, “Let us take your faithful knights, Percival and Galahad as examples, the definitions of paladins. Yet, like a reflection in the lake, I hold aspects of their soul, perhaps not the whole or original, but enough to grant them a life here.”
Arthur can sense no falsehood in her but who is he to judge those immortal, “If that is what you say I shall continue to give you my faith. You’ve spoken of this Departure before.”
Hair turning red of fire with hints of black, “Whence all who now reside here on Terra were deemed matters of fiction. It wasn’t all at once, we’ve just arrived after all. Things that are dreamt of on Earth...that's where Britain is by the way.”
She snorts with a laugh, “I just remembered you don’t know about it being round and all that. Although some odd ducks try to disagree based on nonsense. Probably the same clowns who claim humans never landed on,”
“You’re taking the cart off the road My Lady,” At the end of the day, it hardly matters does it, “So how do I revive a squirrel?”
Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.
Sun rises once more, “Remember the scabbard of Excalibur, which heals even fatal wounds, the one you loaned out like an idiot. Anyway, focus on the creature’s soul with your magic, send it back. Of Course this could only work on such beasts for now.”
Magic is how Arthur can see at all, and now he can see a soft glow exiting the creature, like a final breath. To push it back takes a surprising toll.
How such a thing could feel the same as a field battle is beyond him but in this moment, Arthur knows everything about this squirrel. From her nut stash to her disdain for the male that was courting her yesterday.
Viv squeals, “Oh she’s adorable, now practice what I showed you. Rest first if you must, send her to bring a couple acorns but then help her grow into more than a normal rodent.”
Pointing out the obvious, “She can’t see,” and yet she darts directly towards the exit. “I suppose you’ll want me to name it as well?”
With a huff, “Nonsense, I’m picking.” She levitates to strike a lady’s poise, “Victoria, Queen of the squirrels in Avalon.”
Waiting a moment, Arthur speaks up, “I neither know any Victoria, nor did I feel anything magic just then.”
Our goddess wilts slightly, “She’ll grow into it. Now,” Viviane straightens her back once more, hair turning golden, “Arthur, Once and Future King, I hereby deliver unto you this first of many divine quests.”
The golden orb shivers, power flows in the room as she continues, “By two weeks’ time, grow Queen Victoria into a proper regent of her kind, deliver unto her a palace and lands which to rule, and a guardian to protect her.”
The gold light in the room dims considerably, “You’re joking.”
Arthur remembers many absurdities...a certain befuddling, shapeshifting and romance lesson with Merlin comes to the for, “Oooh no, not you as well! Why is it always squirrels?”
Twirling her hair and not looking innocent at all, “Why, whatever do you mean? Certainly if Merlin were here he’d have such fond memories.”
She takes a serious tone, “Now I can only issue a quest so often depending on several factors, see that you do your best. The reward should be nice.”
Passing Victoria on her way out, Sibyl returns with a somewhat dazed fox, “Lord Arthur I have brought you a new… um, Sacrifice?”
For the second time today he sighs, “I suppose, as I’ve no place to keep it. Bring it to the water. We need light, Sibyl, fireflies will do. Otherwise rest and scout the area as you can.”
This time, whilst the creature is drowned a touch faster, Viv has another lesson, “Feed the fox to the water spirit but focus your magic, learn all that you can on what makes a fox the sly creatures they are.”
Like the squirrel before Arthur learns all that is of this breed of fox. As if instinct he suspects he can take what was learned and use it to ‘evolve’ Victoria. By day’s end this process has repeated for fireflies, bees, grass snakes, and hedgehogs.
Victoria was quite eager to please, bringing samples of various oaks, willows, buckthorns, elderberries, walnuts, birch, even a crab apple. On second thought, she may have just moved her stash and some twigs along the way.
“How is a tree supposed to grow in the dark?” Arthur’s golden core flickers in annoyance.
Viv lounges on her back in the core room pool, “Magic, my dear Arthur. I’ve shown all I’m permitted and spoke of far more.”
First issue, light in general. Fireflies will be the baseline, but they’ll need to be bigger and far spread. If the idea is to replicate the witch woods of home, then this whole floor shall be wooded.
Considering the available options, Arthur is struck by the obvious. Combining the bees and fireflies will accomplish several needs. He begins pulling at the raw materials littered on the ground, the remaining spirit energy and magic.
The Lady speaks of her own accord, “Biology, anatomy, zoology, botany and horticulture, you’ve much to learn in the grounded sciences. In esoterics, mysticism, and occult you have some prior study but there was more to the world then britain.”
By noon the next day, a small hive of firebees is tucked in the branches of a weeping willow sapling beside the pond. A willow tree that will grow elderberries and eventually defend itself somehow, as per Viv’s suggestion. ‘Make it a whomper’ were her words.
In a courtyard of the chapel opposite the pond, Arthur began fiddling with an oak sapling for Victoria.
Viviane calls for Sibyl, “Darling, careful not to lose too much magic that you can't return, but seek out something a touch larger. Keep mind for any spells your new form may accommodate, Merlin taught you after all.”
Stopping his fruitless attempts to make an acorn glow like Viv had mentioned.
“She might not return?”
“You need the whole tree to have a spirit to produce its own magic dear. Yes, if your creatures stay too long from your dungeon they begin to have internal failures before falling dead, they might even be unable to return in spirit to be reformed.” the Lady pokes the core, “You are their anchor in existence.”
Lessons stretch into the after noon. Then, as Victoria is just receiving praise for a new fern species, Sibyl returns.
With light clicking sounds a young buck stumbles the last steps of the entry. The fallow deer bolts into the dark, eventually finding its own way to the pond.
Once the unsavory business is done, Arthur pulls the spirit into the oak sapling. The immediate change is that the branches warp to a more antler like shape. As Victoria leaps up to investigate the leaves seem to catch her protectively.
Laughter from Viv, “Excellent, I’d hoped Sibyl might find some dryads but now you’ve created a young tree spirit. My quest might be completed early!”
Arthur has a sour thought, “While this is a pleasant boon, you just mentioned dryads, and I saw that we’re within a week from that castle. How soon should we expect to be found? What happens then?”
The goddess shoots to his side in a cascade of water, “Then we defend ourselves as needed.” Her grin feral, “I was to bring it up soon, and we should be fine for at least another week. This lake rests in a high mountain valley, no civilized creature calls it home. Those cliffs dissuade the humans. As it stands you have most of what's needed to develop suitable defence.”
Sibyl drifted in at some point, “Should I search out a bear or wolves My Lord?”
He considers, “Don’t risk yourself in doing so Sibyl. If one wanders close enough then so be it. I believe we are ready for other forest creatures, badgers, mice, more damned squirrels.”
Viviane can feel his attention shift to her.
“If someone or something intelligent arrives. Should we need to defend ourselves so be it, but what else?”
For the first time a hint of green highlights her blonde hair, “Why, we reward their daring exploration. They navigate your soon to be woods, complete whatever trial you set. Receive a prize and go home to tell their friends about a mysterious chapel with a beautiful statue.”
So her power will grow, as would Arthur’s should they fail, “I suppose we should discuss trials and prizes more than. Also what I get from this, considering I don’t intend to drown every visitor.”
Viv melts into the pool while laughing, “It’s still an option you know.”