The Book of Avalon Eternal

Nimue raps lightly on the door to Caradoc's chamber. A soft 'come' is given in response, and Nimue pushes the door open, hinges responding with a whining creak. Peering in, she takes several steps across the threshold before Gawain follows. After they are both inside the room, Gawain shuts the door behind them.

Caradoc's chambers are cavernous and foreboding. The smell is one of incense burning, but it is a different smell than what Gawain is used to, the incense that burns in the temples and in Merlin's spells. From the ceiling hang tangles of moss, some of which have flowers in them, and they brush against wooden tables that are placed haphazardly around the room. The tables are covered in scrolls, parchments, vials, jars, bowls, and other instruments that Gawain cannot identify.

In the far back of the room, there is a soft glow, amber in color, that illuminates what looks like a tent constructed inside the room. Looking closer Gawain sees it is a canopy that stretches over a soft bed and a sitting area with several comfortable chairs. And in one of these chairs, sitting beside the amber-glowing substance that looks like fire but is not, sits Caradoc who has taken the mantle of High Druid in place of Merlin upon his absence.

Caradoc has his hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. He has changed robes to a scarlet one that seems more casual than the one he wore in the healer's house. He turns towards Nimue and Gawain and soundlessly motions them towards the other seats.

Nimue and Gawain walk across the darkened room and under the canopy to sit around the amber glow with Caradoc. Gawain reaches his hands out to the flickering substance to find that it emanates a warmth that complements the light it gives. When they are seated, Caradoc speaks first.

'I would know of the trouble you had on the way here.'

Gawain looks at Nimue tentatively before she replies: 'There were flashes inside the border of the forest as we approached on the western road. I saw them when they were very faint, but soon they were bright enough for Meurig and Gawain to see them too.'

Caradoc nods expectantly.

'I could hear Meurig describing the nature of them to Gawain, including that they can take corporeal form, although they almost never have the power to do so. But this time they did.'

'What was the form?' Caradoc ask tonelessly.

Nimue looks to Gawain and waves an open hand towards him, which Gawain interprets as his cue.

'The form was monstrous, and it ran on all fours, but it could also run upright like a man. It loped steadily towards me, but I could not move. It screamed as if it were in agony, and when I was held rapt by the scream, I had gravely hostile thoughts about the people that I love.'

Caradoc raises an eyebrow, while Nimue narrows her eyes at Gawain as if she intends to revisit this later.

'Is this all the information you can share with me about the creature?' Caradoc says calmly.

Hesitating, Gawain replies: 'No. It had the face of my brother, Gaheris. It was his face, but in a monstrous form, a beastly form. I...' Gawain pauses, a lump in his throat. 'I fear that it really was Gaheris, and that when he was slain by the traitor Lancelot, he was punished by the gods for my many sins - by being shaped into this awful form.' Gawain punctuates his sentence with a choked sob.

Caradoc reaches out his hand to grasp Gawain's, and he speaks firmly: 'I assure you, Gawain, that what you saw was not your brother. And as for your sins, I am not sure they deserve that fate, for Gaheris or for you.'

'If this creature was not Gaheris, and if it was or appeared to be real, then what was it?' Gawain asks.

Nimue and Caradoc share a glance, and Nimue nods and proceeds.

'The flashes we saw were holes being ripped into the fabric of this world.'

'Like the hole you made that Morgan carried Arthur through?' Gawain asks.

'Not quite. That hole was a gate, and I made it with white magic using blood and earth. These flickering holes are nearly always the product of dark magic, and the manifestation of the creature confirms that it was.'

Gawain thinks over this and says: 'Meurig said that they could not pose a threat to us, that it was unlikely that they would take any kind of corporeal form.'

'He was right, in general. But they did take form, and that is an indication that the fabric of this world was not merely being pierced by dark magic. The holes were imbued with power from a mage that allowed the holes to create that body, by pulling living creatures from other worlds. In this case, it was able to combine them into something new that could mimic the face of your brother. That creature was made of many creatures, killed by being ripped from their worlds and stitched back together as with a needle and thread, and I assure you that it was in great suffering. The scream of agony you heard was true. Killing it was a mercy.'

'Then how did it bat away your spell?'

To this Caradoc replies: 'It was a trap set by the dark mage. This mage was familiar with Nimue's unique pattern of magic, as all witches and mages have their own patterns that can be distinguished if one is sensitive enough. The mage that set this trap knew how to blunt Nimue's magic by working her pattern into his own spell, thereby weakening Nimue's spell greatly.'

Gawain's eyes widen. 'No,' he says. 'It could not have been Irun Gwilt.'

'Yes, it was,' Caradoc says in response. 'I am certain that it was Irun Gwilt. I can feel the vibrations of his magic still upon you.'

Nimue shivers and makes a sequence of motions around her body, which she then leans over to Gawain and repeats.

Caradoc continues: 'How did you kill this creature?' The question is asked to both Nimue and Gawain.

Nimue replies: 'I instructed Meurig to cast shards of glass towards it, which embedded in its face and eyes. I hated to do this, because I knew it was suffering already. But a little more suffering was needed to release it from its bonds, and more importantly, I had to preserve Gawain's life. Then I hit Gawain with a spell that imbued his broken leg with temporary power, which ultimately damaged it further, but this allowed him the strength to slay the creature.'

'I see,' says Caradoc. 'What did you do with the body when it was dead?'

'I cast the appropriate spells to reduce it to the smallest forms, and then I pushed the dust into the forest. With any luck, the animals that made up the creature will find at least parts of themselves back in their old worlds, although they will certainly be dead in body. Perhaps not in spirit.'

Caradoc sits back and rubs his forehead with his remaining hand. His eyes close, and he looks to be in pain. Nimue reaches out and touches his knee through the robe, a concerned look on her face. At her touch, Caradoc opens his eyes and regards her blankly for a moment before leaning forward and arranging himself again. He places his hand gently on Nimue's and assures he that he is all right, and as he does so he redirects her hand away from him and back into her own lap.

'This will require careful planning in response,' continues Caradoc. 'The monk Gisil, if he is a monk, is of unknown motivations and allegiances. I recommend that you allow him to stay in Camlann. Free him, and give him a position close to you' - gesturing here to both Gawain and Nimue - 'and I will send both Meurig and Conall to Camlann to watch his behavior and intervene with magic should the slightest hint of malevolence be shown.'

Nimue appears uncomfortable with this plan, but Caradoc reassures her by saying: 'It is right to be concerned about the presence of Gisil, as his mysteriousness ultimately makes him uncntrollable. However, Meurig and Conall are more than capable of handling him, especially if they are prepared in advance, which they will be.'

'This will be acceptable for the time being, but I will not hesitate to kill him if I sense any threat from him at all,' says Nimue. Caradoc looks at her, with the hint of a smile of approval on his lips.

Caradoc leans back then and removes a cloth that is covering a small table. Underneath are three steaming cups of herbal brew, which Gawain has not seen being prepared. Nor does he see anywhere to prepare it. Nevertheless, he accepts the brew offered by Caradoc and takes a first sip, finding that it is mint. The brew is fresh and hot, and as he drinks it, he feels a sudden sense of relaxation. But rather than the fogginess of Nimue's painkilling potions, this herbal brew complements the feeling of relaxation with a sharp clarity of mind.

After they have each finished, Caradoc leans forward to place his cup on the table in the center of their cushioned chairs, and Gawain and Nimue follow his lead by placing their cups there too.

Finally, Caradoc says: 'I believe there is one last order of business.'

'Yes. As you may have already guessed, I am seeking endorsement from you as High Druid for my installation as regent while I, or hopefully we, can gather enough support for Gawain to be elected king.'

Without hesitation, Caradoc replies, 'If you want my endorsement, then you shall certainly have it. I will have the scribe make enough missives to be distributed amongst all the towns and villages of Camlann. The only thing that remains is that Gawain state his formal decree that you are regent. My endorsement as High Druid will prevent any sustained resistance.'

Nimue looks at Gawain triumphantly, but Gawain replies, 'I will install you as regent, but I am unconvinced that Arthur intended me to be his heir. And moreover, I do not want to be king.'

Nimue's triumph turns quickly to a dark scowl. But Caradoc smiles and bows his head. 'Sir Gawain, your path to the throne has long been ordained. It goes back much further than Arthur. If you spurn Arthur's will, for I know with certainty that he wants you as his heir, then you spurn the will of many stretching back into the distant past, hundreds of years ago. And some of them are still alive.'

Nimue says: 'Please tell us more. It will help to convince Gawain. And I want to know these stories.'

'Very well,' says Caradoc. 'Let me refill your cups with herbal mint, for you will need it for the tale I am about to tell.'