Page 46 of Awakening
“I know, but I believe this conversation has taken place before, many years ago. What makes you think we have changed?”
“With all due respect, Queen Rannva, perchance the opportunity to finally return to your forest above after having spent over a thousand years in this damp darkness will change your mind.”
The Queen’s expression hardened. “Rannva was my mother. I am her daughter, Mysel.”
“My apologies, you do look just like your mother.” Morgaine stood silent for a moment.
“Why should we help you?”
“Do you not remember what happened? All those years ago…” Morgaine’s voice softened as she spoke.
The Queen thought back to her youth, recalling the fateful events that had befallen her people. One of the battles waged in defense of Camelot had found its way into the Blaiddúlfur Forest. The blood from the dead and undead petrified the forest and tainted the land with disease and death. The animals fled the forest, as did her people, who had nowhere to go except to the underground caves. It was Arthur who had brought about the destruction of their home. He’d known what would happen to the delicate environment if he fought the undead army in the enchanted forest lands, but instead of drawing Morgaine’s army into the mountains, Arthur withdrew into the forest, and ever since, it was Arthur they blamed for their banishment to the caves.
“We have not forgotten,” the Queen said. “What is your request?”
“I ask for two things, Your Grace. First, the Myrkurári curse. Second, the support of your army.”
“No. The curse would unleash a power that no being could ever hope to control. Evil would consume the earth and destroy every living creature,” Mysel cautioned.
“I have studied the source of its magic. I have found a way to control it.”
“So you say. What would you do with these things? Why should we trust you?”
“Your Grace, because of my brother Arthur, we both find ourselves banished from our homes. I only seek to take what is rightfully mine. Sacrifices are necessary. If I am to succeed in taking the throne from King Arthur’s living heir, I will need your help. Together, we can have justice and take back what is ours.” Morgaine paused a moment. “Have you and your people not suffered in the darkness long enough? Once I have Excalibur, I will have the power to restore life to your forest. All I ask is your help.”
“Arthur has a living heir?”
“Yes. His name is Trystan and he has already obtained the sword. You know as well as I that humans are prone to greed and power. He cannot be trusted with the sword or the power to rule Camelot.” Morgaine tried to appeal to the elves’ natural distrust of humans.
Mysel sat silent for a few minutes. She thought back to what her mother had told her many years ago. That a child born of Arthur would return some day. She had been reluctant to believe it. Her mother’s words echoed in her mind…
“Arthur destroyed our home when he brought war and death through our beloved forest. As much as we want to return to our home, you must be cautious in your decisions. Our help will be asked for again in the future. A choice must be made. Be wise and follow your heart, and you will find the right path.”
As much as Mysel wanted to return to the serenity of their former home, she was hesitant to side with Morgaine. Her mother had refused a side when Morgaine warred with Arthur for the crown many years ago. At the time, Mysel was young and naïve. She did not understand why her mother had resigned their people to live in darkness rather than take a chance at returning home. Now, she had a far clearer understanding.
“Mistress Morgaine, I have yet to make a decision on the matter. I must first consult with my councilors. You will have an answer shortly. Until then, you are welcome to stay the night with us.”
“Thank you, Your Grace. I await your decision with the highest confidence.”
“My youngest daughter, Reyn, will show you to one of our guest chambers.”
A young elf stepped forward from behind the Queen and crossed the hollow room toward Morgaine. Like all the other elves, she had long, black hair, gold eyes, and ashen skin. On her arm, she wore a silver dragon cuff with ruby eyes. The softly glowing emblem on her forehead matched that of her mother, like a family crest. Her long, flowing white gown dared to touch the floor while her loosely braided tresses lay elegantly against her neck and back.
Reyn stopped in front of Morgaine. “My lady, please follow me.”
Morgaine bowed to the Queen and followed the young elf princess out of the throne room. Reyn led her through the city, following a curved path through a stone archway and down a long, narrow corridor.
Morgaine’s thoughts lingered on revenge. The curse was the key to destroying the guardians. It was the only way to draw them out of the safety of Artiryn. But what of the heir? As long Trystan was still alive, Morgaine’s path to immortality would be threatened by the very weapon she needed to claim the throne. Excalibur.
***
Dusk settled over the ruins. A single bright star burned in the darkening sky above. The wind had died down. Mist crept in over the crumbling stones. Sitting in the soft grass by the warmth of the fire, Trystan glanced over his shoulder, his mind reeling over the incredible truths Emrys had revealed. Marc sat on the edge of a worn stone wall that overlooked the cliff, sharpening his sword. Emrys paced around near Marc, pausing on occasion to look out over the ocean. Trystan could hear them talking but couldn’t hear the actual conversation. They seemed to be enjoying each other’s company.
Trystan couldn’t help but watch them. He loved them both in very different ways.
Marc. They’d spent less than a week together, but Trystan could not imagine another day in his life without him. It seemed strange to think he and Marc already loved each other, but the connection between them was undeniable. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt it. And Emrys, well, he had always been there. Not only was he Trystan’s truest friend, but he had also been like an older brother to him, always looking out for him.
A longing stirred deep within Trystan’s heart as his gaze followed Emrys. An image flickered in his mind. Emerald eyes and… a kiss. From a dream. Or was it a memory?