Death Year Chapter 1

     Arthur charged forward, Excalibur waved in the sun. His knights raced on his heels, their bravery never failed in the heat of battle. A searing white light flared up before his eyes, blinding his troops momentarily. His white mount shied, and began dancing with nervous steps. He was quickly brought under control as the light faded and in its place stood seven robed figures. A man with a golden circlet stood in front with his arms outstretched.

     “Come Arthur Pendragon, your time has ended. This battle is not yours to fight.” His silver blue eyes smiled up at Pendragon. The woman on his right stepped forward to speak.

     “I have marked you as our own.” She reached up and lightly touched his wrist, where seven thin black lines appeared, stretching across the inside of his wrist, exactly one year ago. “One year was the time limit, now you must return home.” The seven men and women circled around him and his horse. In another flash of light they were all gone.

     The knights continued forward, their swords clashed against their enemies as the front lines meet in a deadly greeting. The ringing of metal on metal chorused through the valley. Somewhere in the mists of the battle, Lancelot dismounted to snatch up Excalibur. As the men fell and the battle faded to nothing, Lancelot fled home to place the powerful sword into Merlin’s care.

     As he entered his chambers, Merlin placed Excalibur on his bedside table. When he turned around, the same seven people stood before him.

     “Merlin, you knew your time was coming. Your year is up.” The leader spoke.

     “Come Merlin. I have marked you as our own. Join the Host of Heaven and take up your rightful place.” The dark haired woman spoke calmly to him. Before she could reach forward, Merlin spoke.

     “Let me leave the immortals my journal, so their way will not be lost.”

     “Merlin, they are in our hands. Let your mind rest for once. You are no longer of this earth. Let them go.” She reached for him again and soon they all faded away.

 

     “Avalon! Rise and shine sunlight!” Kuria’s voice croons as she jumps on my bed. She giggles as I wrap my arms around her thin frame. Every time I look at my young sister, I am amazed. The Noble is still growing physically and will continue for another sixteen years. A Noble is not fully grown until their years have reached twenty and one. The five year old mind, however, has reached full maturity. Though blood doesn’t link us, our coven bond grows strong with the years.

     “So where is everyone this morning? It is too quiet around here.” I ask as Kuria smoothes back my black hair. Her brown eyes gaze into mine in honest apology.

     “You slept right through it Avalon! The hunt has already begun.” Her golden halo of curls swishes across her shoulders as she replies. I smile back at her.

     “Then we shall have a bit of fun on our own.” Kuria claps her hands in delight, and I can’t help but laugh. “But first, dearest, you must get dressed, or will you ride in your night clothes?” I tease her. Kuria squeals in excitement then bounds away to get dressed. I crawl out of bed and move to the bathroom to wash my face. As I cup the water in my hands, I notice a mark on my skin. On the inside of my wrist, seven delicate lines stretch, intertwining from the left side to the right. I drop the water and grab a bar of soap. After five or so minutes of scrubbing, the mark remains. I hear Kuria singing softly as she re-enters my room. Quickly, I splash water on my face and race to my closet to throw on some clean clothes. I come out wearing slightly faded blue jeans and a purple tank top. Thick leather bracelets now cover the strange mark on my wrist, but it will only do for now, for I know I have been marked.

     “Are you ready Avalon? I want to ride Inka.” I smile at her, momentarily forgetting my fear. For fear was definitely the only word to describe my feelings. The mark has surfaced and my clock has begun a countdown.

     “Well then Kuria, we shall hurry to the stables.” I struggle to push the thought to the back of my mind.

 

 

 

     “Look over there!” Kuria shouts from her saddle. I guide Monocerus toward the tree she points to. As I look up, an old man jumps down and grabs my reins. Kuria shrieks seem muted in the back round. The old man steps closer and I can not move away. From somewhere beneath his threadbare robes, he pulls out a sword. My face is frozen, but my eyes widen in disbelief. It is an immortal sword. The man looks into my eyes and places the weapon into my hands.

     “The way has been lost, but soon to be found again. Lead them on, or all has failed.” The words came from his mouth in rustic syllables, and then he collapsed onto the grass. A nudge from Inka brought me back to reality.

     “Avalon, Who is he?”

     “I don’t know Kuria, but let’s take him back with us.” My curiosity overwhelms my fear.

     “Must we? He is so dirty and strange.”

     “Kuria,” I snap at her. “Show some compassion for others.”

     “I’m sorry.” She bends her head in shame. She always gets me with the little gestures like that.

     “You are forgiven, but dearest, tell no one of this man.” Something pulls at my mind that guides my moves now. There are no voices, but the pull is impossible to ignore.

     “Why?” Kuria asks her eyebrow lifting.

     “I’m not sure, just do as I say.” I reply, as the five year old nods in response. I slide down from my horse to get a better look at him. Grey hair matted with dirt and grime covers his head. His clothes are shredded with use and age, but from the purple stone around his neck, I know it had not always been that way. Thinking quickly, I take the ribbons tying my hair back, and bind his wrists and ankles together.

     “Avalon! What are you doing?!” Kuria hissed. Ignoring her, I shove the man onto my horse, and climb on behind him and hold him steady.

     “Let’s go back.” I simply say

     “What? We are going to get in so much trouble with the elders.” Kuria practically whines.

     “No one is back yet. We’ll figure it out once we find a place for him.” With that, I lead the way home.

 

     Kuria follows as I bring the horses back to the stables. The vagabond or what ever he may truly be is still passed out across Monocerus’s back as I pull him into the shade and then the stable. I slide the man carefully down the horse’s back and lean him against the limestone wall.

     “Kuria, head back to your room, play with your dolls or maps, but remember to tell no one.”

     “But I want to stay with you.” She gazes past me and stares curiously at the man. “He’s so strange Avalon. Look at his face, it’s old and worn, but I can’t seem to place him. I think he may be one of us.”

     Realization shot through me. “He is, Kuria, but you must hurry back now. If they return before you enter the Halls, there will be too many questions. I will be in later.” Kuria nods at my last sentence and I watch her disappear through the double doors reluctantly. Once she is gone, I drag the man across the wooden planks of the floor, to the corner where I had found a trap door two years past. I lift the rustic hatch and slowly lower the man through, till I feel his feet touch the dirt below. The rungs of the ladder quickly slide through my hands as I descend into the darkness. I light a few of the candles I had stashed away several months ago. The bottled water and food were still fresh as I pulled them from a crate in the corner of the tiny earthen room. It surprised me that my selfish hording was now not quite as selfish as I tried to wake the noble in my presence. He stirred at my prompting and began mumbling under his breath.

     “Shh. Shhh.” I try to quite him. His green eyes finally focus and I notice the golden flecks that dot his irises. His attention locks on me and he grasps my wrist.

     “Avalon!! Avalon…” His eyes drop to the sword now on my belt, the one he had forced into my hands, and he grins. “Yes, yes you shall lead them, hope, maybe we can return home” His eyes turn up and his body relaxes once more, and I know he has passed out again. I unlock the door on the far wall and lay the old man’s limp body onto a mattress in the next room, too scared to do anything else. I sit down on the torn leather chair in the corner. The place had not been used to house someone in at least ten years. I had only stored things I would not want Rushou or Niko to find. Things too precious to me and items I did not know, but I did now enough to keep them out of the wrong hands.

     The books taken from the library were supposed to have remained untouched for centuries, now line the bookshelf I had so crudely built upon first finding the sanctuary. Gold scrolling lines mark the spines of a few books, others are bound in sheepskin, but none of these texts are snatched up. It is an old scroll and beaten brown leather journal that I pull into my lap. Gazing at the man lying on the mats I had placed on the floor, I scrape a plate of bread, dried meats, and cheese together to place before him. I scoop a bowl of fruit and sit it at the table with a glass of water. It will have to do for now, but before the night has taken hold, I know I will return. I tuck the journal and scroll into the bag hanging off my shoulder, and make my way towards the halls of my coven.

 

Reviews

[deeps]

Such a wonderful write, with vivid imagery,
I can see the events unfolding. I found this captivating.
Held my attention. Very well written! Enjoyable read.