January 9th, 2014
Avalon
The stones of the old ruins held memories. An ancient structure of the once great castle stood on the cliffside of the west side of the Island. These days it was a graveyard of broken swords. A place to remember the once great heroes of old. If you concentrated, you could still hear the roar of fire, the scream of soldiers, and the death of the Once and Future King of Britain.
Little over a thousand years later it stands as a testament to our failures. A beacon of madness that taints not only the land, but my blood as well. Here I will make my claim for the crown of Avalon, to rebuild a once holy kingdom.
In the distance a procession of men holding the banner of the dead queen, a jagged crown on a crimson field. Leading the column Ser Bedivere, one of the few still living Round Table Knights. He with Ser Kay, and Ser Gawain, my great uncle, ferried the dying king Arthur to Avalon. Along with Morgan Le Fay my great aunt, and my great grandmother Morgause. Another survived these long years, yet his penance has kept him secluded from the comings and goings of the Island.
Even I, who would claim the old king's throne have not dared venture into his domain. He has the sole duty, to guard and await the revival of the Once and Future King. A duty that he would wait eternity and a day to be accomplished.
I had arrived at these ruins well before the others. It had called to me, the castle of my great grandfather. His blood like lightning in my veins, granting me power to rule over this tainted land. But not all would suffer my rule, and they were not to blame. My kin had cost this land dear, allowing the Seraphim, and then later Christopher Anders to corrupt our paradise. I would put things right, I had to, because nobody else could.
***
Ser Bedivere, Ser Gawain, and Ser Kay gathered around the ruined Round Table. The seat at which King Arthur and his knights would plan their knightly quests. Tents had been set up in the once great hall, stonemasons surveyed the crumbling ruin. Soldiers carried in crates of supplies. Outside the camp had grown to a considerable mass. Together, we actually stood a chance at rebuilding Camelot.
“If all goes to plan then we should have the barracks and the living quarters done before the spring. That part of the castle is in much better shape than where we stand.” Ser Kay said. Bedivere clasped his hand against Kay's shoulder.
“Should I lay claim to Lancelot's old quarters, or would you like to fight me for them?” He said in his thick welsh accent.
“Nay brother, Galahad's old room always had my eyes.” Kay said. They looked at me, yet my gaze had not left the throne. Ser Gawain walked up behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder.
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“The young king should have his pick first, which one will it be Nephew? Lancelot’s? Arthurs?” My uncle said, smiling. The hall fell silent, the workers stopped in their tracks awaiting my words. “Mordreds.” I uttered. You could have heard the drop of a quill. My uncle bowed and went over to the table.
When we had first brought our query to the Queen Regent Annabelle she was delighted. What she had not intended was for us to usurp a quarter of her land. She had merely bid us rebuild the old castle and nothing more. Annabelle had done right by her people, but it was time for somebody with real power to rule. That, she had not been happy about. Despite our disagreement on my status as king however, she had allowed us to come to the castle, even wished us luck.
The throne was a wreck, unfit to even be called a chair. It was still mine by birthright, and at that moment I vowed that it would be the last thing restored in the castle. I turned away from it, and gazed out at the men and women busy rebuilding my ancestral home. My eyes met the exit, and though I had just arrived there was a certain task I needed to do.
“Where do you think you are going?” Bedivere asked as I made my way towards the great door. I took a deep breath and turned to face him.
“If I am going to be even half the king Arthur was I need to prove it.” I said. The three old Knights crossed their arms and looked at me inquisitively.
“Ahh, I see where this is going.” my uncle said.
“Just what do you mean to do?” Kay asked.
“I must find the Excalibur, only then can I call myself king.” I said. Gawain and Kay looked over at Ser Bedivere. The old Knight uncrossed his arms.
“Do you even know where to begin, boy?” Bedivere asked.
I turned to leave, “the same place Arthur started, I must see the Lady of the Lake.” I said and left the Round Table Hall.
***
There was a tent that had been set up for me in Camelot’s courtyard. It was bigger than the rest, one of the many perks of being king I guessed. Inside was my squire, a girl called Morgause, her name was the only thing she shared with my great grandmother. She was a bloodling, one of Morgan Le Fay's Creations. Her line had ruled Avalon until the Seraphim was let loose by Christopher Anders. The last Queen sacrificed herself so that her Heir could Escape. Hundreds of years later it fell upon me to succeed where my aunt's line had failed.
“Does the Round Table look just like the paintings?” Morgause asked as I sat and waved for her to start putting my armor on me.
“It’s a bit broken at the moment, but yes.” I said. She danced around me gathering pieces of the smoldering plate armor. It had been enchanted long ago by a witch who left the Island with the Le Fay heir. “Knight of the Inferno” they called me. The armor gave me power over fire itself.
“I wish I could have been there with you, to see it for the first time.” the girl sighed. She placed the breastplate on my chest and looped the leather straps through the buckles. The girl pulled, tightening the plate against my body.
“Do well on our quest and you may well become the first Roundtable Knight in centuries.” I said. Her maroon eyes widened, and she hopped around me. The girl's auburn hair twirled as she spun.
“Are you serious?” she asked.
“Get this armor on me, and you’ll soon prove how serious I am.” I said.
It was a funny thought, my first knightly errand would be shared by a girl with the same name as the woman who started this all. My great grandmother seeded the idea of Arthur's destruction into Mordred's head. Morgause would now help me rebuild Camelot. Destiny is humorous like that.
My name is Eden, King of Avalon, Knight of the Inferno, Grandson of the Traitor Knight Mordred, Great Grandson of King Arthur. It is my destiny to be king, and nothing will stop me.