Sleep came to Alistair easily that night. His exhaustion after the battle with Kevin had been palpable, to say the least. He had Ilvara and the ashen dragon Kazumth to thank for his survival. Without them, he would have burned to death on that mountainside. The healing potion he drank a portion of helped ease his pain, but it wasn’t just physical pain. Mental fatigue was something he couldn’t recover with just a tincture.

By the time his head hit the pillow, Alistair was already falling into a dreamscape. This time, it was a creation of his own. He dreamed of crowds cheering his name, having a castle all his own to call home, and his family freed of their servitude. These dreams, wishes mostly, kept him going while he remained on the quest of supplication. Even with all the glory serving the Lady entailed, it wouldn’t be the same if he couldn’t share his success with those he cared about.

His dreams faded as they played out in front of him. A sure sign that he was waking up. So soon, he thought. Instead, he found himself falling deeper. Clouds appeared around him and he found himself falling through the sky. Wind whipped at his face. The sun blinded his eyes. Alistair’s stomach lurched, his heartbeat skyrocketing. A nightmare?

He searched the skies for the dragon, for Ilvara. Had he fallen off during their flight? They might swoop through the sky and catch him in a daring maneuver. A few moments later and still he fell, alone. Perhaps Broderick would swoop up from below with his wind mantle body. A glance down revealed the treetops of a thick forest below. They were getting closer and closer. No rescue in sight, either.

When he reached the tips of the trees, Alistair shut his eyes. He didn’t want to see it anymore. All he could feel was fear and despair. To be completely powerless, all while aware of your impending doom, was a terrifying feeling. That feeling of helplessness hurt him especially, after all the progress he thought he’d made.

Despite the danger, he felt no pain. Branches should have been smacking him, breaking beneath his weight. He should’ve suffered cuts, bruises, and fractures all the way down. And yet, when he finally braved to open his eyes, he found himself lying on the ground perfectly safe. A glance above revealed no broken branches, no shattered limbs, and not a single leaf disturbed. Alistair patted himself and his body felt solid, yet it would appear as though he fell to the earth as a spirit might float through a wall.

Alistair rose to his feet. The air in the forest felt different than he was used to. It felt heavy, as if suffused with something. Everything around him looked lush and vibrant. He’d never seen so many shades of greens, yellows, and browns. There were no signs of decay or death; everything was overgrown, thriving even. In the distance, he could hear the sounds of rushing water, the humming of insects, and the distant calls of wild fauna.

This forest was something only his imagination could conjure up. Not even Celidon had appeared so clean, so welcoming. Alistair felt light within his chest. As if this were a place he was meant to be. A gust of wind came up from behind him, and with it brought the sweet smell of wild cherries and blackthorn. It whistled past him and down what looked to be a path through the wild overgrowth.

Alistair felt compelled to follow.

As he walked, the plants seemed to curl and peel away off the mossy path. He found himself being led somewhere. The sound of rushing water grew stronger every step he took. That thick air soon became humid. His journey soon brought him to a lovely grotto built into a natural formation of rock. The entrance was partially obscured by a gorgeous waterfall that came down from somewhere above. It fed into a small pool of water, expertly carved and smoothed of stone.

This must have been the source of the water, he thought to himself. At first glance, he thought this was an entirely natural scene, but a closer look revealed otherwise. The shape of the structure was too well designed to be caused by erosion. He could say the same about the lack of plant life that should have taken this whole spot over like the rest of the forest. Everything looked like it had been cultivated by very skilled hands, or even magic.

He noticed that around the pool of water were matching sets of stone steps. They would lead him up behind the waterfall and into the cave proper. Alistair made the climb, careful with his step on the slick rocks. Droplets of water spattered against his skin and the rock around him. Just like the air, the liquid felt different as it clung to him. Heavier, more viscous. Almost like a jelly or jam.

Once he reached the smooth stone behind the waterfall, he glanced back. From here, Alistair had a better look at the pool into which the waterfall filled. There was no drain for the water that he could see, and yet the liquid never overflowed from the basin’s lip. Such a phenomenon only served to remind him that this was very much a dream, though with each passing moment he truly wondered if it was his imagination that could build all this. He’d never seen such wonders of magic before.

Welcome, young Alistair.

The voice reverberated throughout the grotto. It seemed to come from everywhere. He recognized its owner right away. Alistair looked all around him to try and find her. The relic token around his neck rattled with intense fury at the presence of such a powerful magical being.

“Milady?” he called out. For a moment, he thought the magic wood had played a trick on him. Then he saw something begin to surface from the cave’s inner pool of sparkling water.

The Lady of the Lake emerged from beneath the clear liquid surface. There were no bubbles of air or ripples in the water as she levitated up. It was as if she spawned directly from the pool rather than swim up from the depths below. Still, he noticed her hair and nude form dripping as if she had just been bathing in the clear reservoir.

She looked the same as when he had last seen her, over two weeks ago now. And she kindly greeted him in the same fashion too. The fae being offered him a warm smile as she floated toward him over the water surface. Her intense eyes, shimmering with fey magic, seemed to look through him to his very soul.

Alistair dropped to one knee as he’d seen Sir Manus and other knights do so often. It felt like a more dignified bow than the one he’d offered her last. In just a scant few weeks so much had changed. He felt it only right that he keep his head held high this time, just as the Lady asked him to when they first met.

“I’ve been watching you,” she said, standing over him now. He still struggled to match her piercing gaze. “You’ve come so far, Alistair. In such a short time you’ve touched the lives of many people. Time and again, you’ve proven yourself worthy of the token that hangs from your neck.”

“Thank you, milady,” he replied. To hear her offer him such high praise was too much. He felt his eyes grow wet. “I couldn’t have done this without your gift. Nor without the friends I made along the way.”

“Yes, your kindness has brought many to your side.” The Lady’s slender feet touched solid ground as she chose to stand beside him. Her hand gestured toward the pool of water, and in it Alistair saw reflections of those he’d met so far. Sir Manus and his knights, Ilvara, Rozena, the guardsmen of Adelgard, the people of Bredon. Even Kazumth, the ashen greatwyrm, revealed himself there. “Even now, the Aegis spirit within you tells me of your exploits, your charity. I’m proud of you, young Alistair.”

Alistair could only bow his head in sincerity. The tears that once been welling up began to softly trail down his cheeks. This was embarrassing, he thought. To cry before the Lady of the Lake over a few simple words. He resembled more of a whelp than a paladin-to-be.

“On the contrary, Alistair,” she said, responding as if he’d said the words directly to her. “You’ve done everything I’ve asked of you. The humility you display now serves to confirm the veracity of my decision. I have a message to deliver unto you now, regarding the oath you swore to me not so long ago.”

The Lady returned to her place above the pool of water. She waved her arm across her chest, like a king might as he made a declaration. In front of Alistair, the Sight began to write words again.

Quest of Supplication

Complete!

You have fulfilled your oath to the Lady of the Lake. In her eyes, you have proven yourself worthy to sip from the grail.

Alistair wasn’t sure how to respond. He knew better than to jump with joy, and yet at the same time, he felt like it would be rude not to. This was an honor so rarely given out. And yet, he felt the butterflies in his stomach overflow into his chest. His heart pounded in his ears, like it would in a fight. This was yet another door to the unknown. Yet somehow, this felt even more terrifying than the first. A sense of finality.

“I have one more quest for you,” The Lady said. “One more quest that you must fulfill as a supplicant, before you take the final step to become a paladin. The final step before becoming a true warrior of Good, the finest protector of humanity.”

“I-I’m ready, milady.” Alistair swallowed the lump in his throat. He didn’t feel convinced of his own words. Damn his nerves.

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Very well then. I will take your words as consent for this final task.”

Quest of Pilgrimage

Travel to Gàradh Lien

Description

The Lady of the Lake asks that you make a journey to one of the three sacred groves within the Alban Kingdom.

Nestled within the Coille Draoidheil, the enchanted forest, you will find Gàradh Lien.

From there, your visit to Avalon may commence.

Rewards

The Boon of the Lady

The Title of ‘Paladin’

Milestone Progress

The Lady cupped his face in her hands. He felt her warmth, her radiance. A golden aura seemed to surround her, even in the shaded grotto. Alistair felt a sliver of her strength pass to him. Her healing spell traveled from his head down through his toes. Even from the dreamscape, he knew his body in the real world had been affected. Such was the Lady’s power.

“Know that I will be watching over you, always. I shall await you in the pools of Gàradh Lien.” He felt compelled to stand, and so he rose from the ground. The Lady ushered him a few steps back, right to the precipice of the waterfall. “Go now, young Alistair. Wake to your destiny!”

Alistair felt the Lady push him backward. For a woman of her size, she had a considerable amount of strength. He flailed his arms out in an attempt to catch himself, but there was nothing to hold onto. Before he fell through the waterfall, and into the infinity pool, he swore he heard the goddess laugh.

----------------------------------------

He woke with a start. This time, Alistair found himself back in the tavern bed. His clothes were soaking wet. For a moment he truly believed he’d been transported from that forest back to Bredon. Alas, the water certainly wasn’t cooling or refreshing as it had been in the dream. Instead, he could smell the distinct scent of his own perspiration. The dream must have really worked his body over.

Still, he felt more refreshed than ever. Alistair was certain that after the brutal battle with Kevin, and the one with the undead preceding it, he’d struggle to get out of bed. The soreness and fatigue he’d felt couldn’t be understated. Somehow, the Lady’s healing must have reached him all the way from the enchanted forest.

Alistair found a change of clothes from his rucksack and changed out of his sweaty rags. One glance to the window revealed morning’s light had already crested. His stomach growled. Breakfast would be the perfect way to start his pilgrimage.

Downstairs, he found that some of the wounded from before were on their feet. Others remained bedridden on the makeshift cots and bedrolls. Overall, the mood was a hopeful one. Those that could talk did so with more than just forced gusto. He even noticed a smile or two. A far cry from just a day or two ago.

News had spread of the dragon business being resolved yesterday, when they’d returned from Kazumth’s hideaway. The Etressi had apparently witnessed the ashen dragon leave the mountaintop all the way from Bredon. Many feared the worst. That the paladins had been killed, and that the dragon would be free to continue its rampage. Alistair and the others had received quite the welcome when they finally did return with the triumphant news. If he hadn’t been so sore and tired, he might have had more to drink last night.

Alistair could smell food cooking and saw some of the men already eating. He noticed a familiar face at the bar. Broderick sat just about where he was when Alistair first met him. He seemed to be ravenously consuming something. No doubt he had needed to replenish his own energy from his work the last couple of days.

He sat down next to the veteran paladin, who offered but a glance and a nod before returning to his almost finished meal. This time it was a porridge of sorts. No doubt easier on the wounded men’s stomachs. It smelled delicious all the same. The innkeeper, busy as he might be, saw Alistair sit and prepared him a bowl right away.

“Here you are, milord,” the man said. He graciously offered him a bowl, utensil, and even a mug of ale. All done while wearing a satisfied grin. “Pleasure to see you in good health.”

“That’s kind of you, sir,” Alistair said, returning the gesture. He began to consume the food as graciously and quickly as he could. “Delicious.”

“Take your time. No need to rush.” The peasant man scratched the back of his neck as he watched the Lady’s chosen eat like two starved men. Broderick and he were strangely in synch, in that regard.

“‘Tis delicious,” said Broderick, his mouth finally empty. He patted his lips clean with the back of his traveling gloves. A common lowborn habit. “You’ve treated us too well for the two days we’ve spent here. Allow me to give you this.” He presented the man a pouch full of what the Sight said were gold crowns. A small fortune, especially for a little town such as this.

“I can’t accept this, milord,” said the man. He hadn’t even looked in the bag. Just judged it by its weight. He graciously bowed his head. “‘Tis you and your knightly fellows who did the work. Me an’ the rest o’ Bredon merely took shelter and prayed to the Lady for our safety.”

“You’ve all done more than that.” Broderick gestured to the makeshift hospital behind him. Some of the knights, hearing this, held their bowls and mugs up in a silent toast. “If not for your hospitality and ingenuity, many more of these men would have died. Noble and peasant alike. You deserve this and more.”

Alistair felt inspired by Broderick’s example. He placed a gold coin, his only one, on the counter to add it to the collection. Despite the size comparison, the gesture made its point. Broderick offered the supplicant a beaming grin, and the barkeep patted his balding head from nervous sweat.

“I don’t have as much to offer, but I feel the same,” Alistair said. He nodded to the bag of gold. “Consider it a contribution to the rebuilding of Bredon. Disperse it among the families. Surely it won’t go to waste then.”

“I-if you both say so, then, I suppose…”

“Good man.”

Broderick offered him an approving nod as the man reluctantly accepted the gift. The inkeep gave them many bows and awkward curtsies as he headed into the back to continue cooking. With that business done, there was a moment for the two men to speak alone. A chance they hadn’t really been given since they first met.

“I have good news, Alistair.” Broderick began, clapping the youth on his shoulder. “The Lady came to me in my dreams last night. She offered her heartfelt thanks for resolving the conflict in a peaceful manner.”

“She said that to you?”

“Aye, that she did,” he continued. “The Lady promised me that the duke’s Seeress, Catrìona, has been informed of the situation here. Soon, healers will arrive from the neighboring cities. Such news takes a heavy weight off my shoulders.”

“That is wonderful,” Alistair replied. He thought to mention his own dream, but hesitated. Would it be appropriate to steer the conversation toward him, and his own reward. Was it selfish to think that way?

Broderick, ever the observant one, noticed his indecision right away.

“What’s wrong? Don’t tell me you’ve lost heart already.” He nodded to the men behind them. “Many more would have died, had it not been for the work you and your friend did. You should be proud.”

“O-Of course, I’m glad for how things turned out.” He felt his cheeks flush in shame. Once again his timid nature gave off the wrong impression. “It’s just, I’ve been stuck thinking about the dream I had last night.”

“Oh? You as well?”

“Yes, from the Lady herself. Just the same as you,” Alistair said while smiling. Broderick’s eyes widened and he leaned forward, eager to hear. Their talk of the Lady had pricked up the ears of many nearby, and the din of the tavern quieted. “She told me my sworn oath had been fulfilled.” Broderick’s smile began to widen as he realized what he meant right away. “And that I am to make the journey to Gàradh Lien, her sacred grove!”

Alistair felt himself get forcefully brought into a tight embrace by Broderick. He was stunned, unsure of how to respond. Meanwhile, the knights and others in the tavern began to cheer and clap. They must have known what such a pilgrimage entailed, if nothing else from story books told to them as children. For the people of Alba, word of a new paladin being named was reason enough for celebration. Some even began to cheer his name.

“Alistair! Alistair! The Lady’s chosen!” they cried.

Duchy of Isen’s Renown improved to -> Familiar

The people of this place will know your name, and perhaps be able to name one of your heroic deeds.

The lowborn was simply overwhelmed. When he last got so much attention, he’d been about to be executed. Alistair wasn’t sure how to respond to the cheering, nor to Broderick’s embrace. He awkwardly returned the hug after a few moments of stunned silence. The older man shook him by the shoulders as if to wake him from his stupor.

“Congratulations, Alistair,” he said. Broderick truly sounded pleased. “Truly, you are deserving of it. Don’t let any doubt creep into your heart.”

“Thank you, Broderick,” Alistair replied. “The Lady said the same. I’m still trying to come to grips with it.”

“It won’t be long now before you’re a full paladin in your own right. The world will be yours to explore then. There is so much for you to see!”

Just the thought of leaving his little corner of the world was hard to imagine. Leaving Wyrdwood behind had been a strange and trying experience. He often thought of his family during the travel from village to village. How were they faring? Did they know of anything he’d done, the places he’d reached? Surely not. A part of him yearned to head back sooner rather than later, and tell them all about it.

To imagine going to the western coast, to the duchies of Baye and Vessy, or to the north where he could see snow fall by the feet instead of inches. He could visit Kazumth, or perhaps Ilvara if she’d already returned home by the start of his paladin days. Maybe he could travel with Rozena and see the rest of the southern dukedoms, see the border with the Coille Solais, the Forest of Light. So many possibilities, and none were wrong.

First though, he had to make the trip to the Lady. To get ahead of himself now would only bring trouble later. His father told him that, and his mother certainly didn’t let him ever forget it.

The lesson had served him well so far.