Stand Alone

Preface

              A long time ago when I was still a young child, I experienced something that would change my outlook on life forever, but now is not the time to talk of such things. I'm going to start my story when I was still very young; not yet revealed to the wonders and terrors of the home that we call Earth. I lived in a world of magic; literally. It was a world that was filled with surprises around every corner. The beginning of my story takes place in France, living with my father. My father studied animals for a living, magical and non-magical. I was very cherished by my father, especially after my parents divorced.
              My parents divorced when I was but a measly four years old, so I don't remember much of what happened. I know that they almost never talked to each other afterwards, and that my mother moved to Britain and wed another man. I went there each spring and each winter to live with her, and I lived with my father in the summer and fall. I was home schooled and had few friends. The ones I did have were animals. Life was lonely, yet somehow I knew I was there for a reason.
         My mother had always told me great stories of my Aunt Viviane. She was the Lady of the Lake on the mystical Isle of Avalon. Avalon was an island that was taken away from the world of men, surrounded and protected by mist. It was barely touched by time, and could only be entered by those who were trained in the arts of the priestesses.
                Avalon was not nearly as untouched as the Faery Country. If you were in that place, you could be there for a day, yet a month might pass in the outside world. One of the reasons the children my age never came to me was that they thought me to be a wicked faery. It was often said that my mother was born from a faerie father and a human mother, but we were never really sure because her mother died in childbirth. I was small and delicate my whole life with dark black hair that fell down my back and bright blue-gray eyes. My skin was light and soft, like hand-made velvet. My face always expressed curiosity and beauty. One day, as I pondered the meaning of my life, my mother came to visit...

Chapter 1

         "Morgaine, come down here child!" came a voice from below.
         "Coming, Father!" came another voice, and a bouncing young lass of about six years came rambling down the stairs, a spring in her small step. "What did you need, Pappy?" she asked in a soft voice, her eyes met with Damien and a lady who was sitting next to him at the table. The blond haired man sat with his head resting upon his hands and his blue eyes stared at his daughter. He looked young, yet tired; as if he was a man of war who had been roughed up with the sword. In truth, he wasn't even twenty and five years old yet.
         The woman sitting next to him looked somewhat like the bouncing young girl. She was short and slim with long black hair. Unlike the girl, however, her gaze could make any man tremble, for her eyes were so dark they were almost black. It was something that gave her a fierce quality like the young war goddess they spoke of in the Greek myths, Athena. She was beautiful, yet terrible at the same time.
         "Mother, what are you doing here?" the girl asked, coming down the stairs and resting on the floor at her father's feet. The older woman just stared at her with an expression of distaste, anguish, and regret all mixed together. Morgaine's mother gave birth to her at the age of fifteen. Gwynne was away from home and with a man that she was forbidden to see. She had loved Damien her whole life, but when her own parents discovered that she had gotten with child from a man that wasn't her betrothed husband, they disowned her. All the hate that she had for herself had driven her to leave him. She couldn't look at her love and not think of the pain that she had endured. She remembered the days gone by with no word from her family save her sister, Viviane, in Avalon. Her hate for what had happened also made her regret the birth of the child that was gotten on that fateful day.
         "You are going to come with me a little early, my daughter." said Gwynne as she tried to soften her voice. "You are needed elsewhere and it will be a wonderful adventure for you, I'm sure." Morgaine looked up at her parents. Her mother's face was serene, yet her father's was full of sorrow.
         "What is the matter, Pappy?" she asked, laying a small hand on his knee. He looked at her hand for a moment before covering with his own larger one.
         "You must be strong, dear one. I will see you again soon, I promise." He said, trying to control his emotions. "Go and pack enough of your things for a three day journey." he said, taking her hand and helping her to stand. He patted her head and she turned to head up the stairs. Being the curious little rascal she was, she stopped halfway around the corner to listen to what was going on.
         "I think she's too young for this." Damien said, his voice low.
         "We knew from the day that she was born that she had a great purpose in life. She has the Faerie blood in her, Damien, as do I. She can't run from her destiny. The Goddess will have her will; it's best not to fight that." Gwynne said, patting her love's hand.          "Viviane will take good care of her, I trust. She is to be Lady of the Lake one day, and as she grows older she will become more beautiful. I can see it in her already."
         "When will I be able to see her again? When will she come home to me? What will happen to her in that heathen country?" her father questioned, for she was the only child he had ever fathered; the only thing he had to hold on to in his life.
         Gwynne sighed before saying, "You really must trust me, okay? You will see her any time you want, but you will hve to make the trip to Avalon. She won't come home to you until her training is completed, and that could take years depending on her skill. The country is not heathen, it is merely misunderstood. They serve the mother Goddess, not the Christian Devil as you may believe. She will be trained to feel the tides of the sun, moon, and earth. She will learn to appreciate what has been given to her and will learn to face anything and everything with dignity and bravery. There, she will be helped in fulfilling her path." she broke her words for a moment to breathe deeply. Then, even quieter than before, she asked, "Does she have the Sight?"
         For a moment there was no answer, but then slowly, Damien said, "I do not know. I have heard her crying out in the night and she dreams about things that haven't happened. Sometimes, while she is spinning or reading, she will go into trance and speak of things that I have never heard of."
         Morgaine sat still, breathing deeply. She listened to them, hanging on every word. She thought, I'm going to Avalon! I'm going to be Lady of the Lake one day!

Chapter 2

         They set out the next day, Morgaine following her mother on her horse, Ceridwyn. As she looked back at her father, she could see a hint of tears forming in his eyes. Morgaine never knew that it would be the last time she would ever see him. Turning back to the front, the little girl looked forward. Never again would she look back. Her old life was behind her; she had no time to dwell on fond memories of days gone by.
Two days passed without anything eventful happening. It was on the third day of their trip that Morgaine could no longer hold her questions inside her.
         "Come along, child. There is no need to dawdle." her mother said from up ahead.          Morgaine's short legs spurred her horse into a bouncing trot and caught up with Gwynne, coming to a walk at her side.
         "What is it like there, Mother?" she questioned. Always she had an intuitive mind, so when she didn't know something, she made it a point to make her someone here her voice and answer her endless questions. Morgaine stared up at her mother, dressed in the usual plain black dress and forest green cloak. She sat upon a young thoroughbred mare, her head held higher than any other person she knew.
         "It's beautiful there, my dear." she said, her voice softening. Gwynne had never shown outward love for her daughter, but the girl knew that deep down she did care. She could see it in her eyes when they ran along the beach at Gwynne's castle, the flowers and animals just coming out of the long sleep of winter. "It is surrounded by mist, yet isn't cold. The sun is always shining and the birds always singing. The lake is filled with creatures of the Goddess; creatures that are more a part of this earth then we."
         "What is my aunt like?" Morgiane asked, her small little face showing that she was brimming over with questions. Gwynne sighed, a small smile coming across her usually frowning face.
         "She is the most powerful ruler Avalon has ever seen. She looks a lot like you; small and dark, but beautiful and terrible. You will learn to love her as much as you love me and your father." she commented, her eyes brightening a bit. "We will reach Conicio in a little bit." Gwynne said, the smile fading. Whatever had brought her mother that moment of happiness and bliss was gone, and the young child wished that it would come back. Castellum ab adfligo conicio...the castle of broken dreams.

         They reached the castle grounds at midday, clouds of dust rising up behind the horses as the two ladies galloped their way to the gates.
         "Who be it?" a voice called down. Morgaine raised her eyes to see a shadowy figure of a guard looking down at them.
         "Lady Gwynne and her daughter, Morgaine." said Gwynne, her voice full of mastery.
         "Pardon me, m' lady. Open the gates!" he called to another guard standing close to the gate's lever. The gates slowly lifted and the two of them rode through. Standing before them towered the castle, pearly white in the sunlight of the day. Surrounding it was the barracks, the animal houses, the blacksmith, and of course, the houses of the town folk.          The Lady of the castle trotted her horse up to the gates of the entrance to her home, followed by her daughter. Morgaine looked around the courtyard, happily waving to some people that she knew. All of the kids that lived there didn't like her much, and in fact she didn't like them either.
         They came to a halt in front of the castle doors and a gentlemen of about twenty years old greeted them. He was tall with brown hair that hung in his soft green eyes. He stood tall, comfortable around the horses. Morgaine and Gwynne looked down on him with a smile.
         "Good day, M' Lady, Little Lady." he said, bowing with a great swoop of his hand. He looked up at Morgaine, putting both hands out to help her off her horse. Taking his hands, she was set on the ground. Morgiane pet Ceridwyn with a gentle hand and cooed sweet words in her ear.
         "Ah, still whispering to horses, I see." said the man. "It's a good thing to have you back. There is no other in this court that can ride like you. Indeed, everyone in the stables will be happy to have your help again."
         "I'm afraid she won't be here long, Lorimere." said Gwynne with a smile. Lorimere frowned as he heard this, taking Ceridwyn's bridle.
         "Well, come and visit us if you get the chance, Little Lady." he replied, turning away to walk back to the stables. Ceridwyn, with a sympathetic look at Morgine, turned and followed the tug of her bridle. It was uncanny sometimes how much that horse seemed human.
         "Don't worry! I'll be there as soon as I can. I promise!" she called after him before turning back to her mother.
         "Come, my child. Let's get you inside." Gwynne commented, taking her daughter's hand. With one look around the grounds, Morgaine followed her mother into the castle, the pearly white doors closing behind them.

Chapter 3

         Sitting at the table in the main hall was Amin, the husband of Gwynne. He had never liked Morgiane and only put up with her for Gwynne's sake. He shot her a nasty look, filled with hatred. His dark hazel eyes were as cold as an iceberg, searching her soul. Morgaine shivered as she looked upon this brutish man with messy black hair and a face that was scarred from many years in battle. He was at least ten years older than her mother, and more cruel than anyone she had ever met.
         "Welcome home, dear one." he said to Gwynne, his voice sounding like rocks hitting metal. "What, if I may ask, is she doing here?"
         "She is here, dear husband, because I am taking her to Avalon for fostering." Gwynne said, a sarcastic tone in her voice.
         "Well, I don't want her here! She isn't supposed to be with us for another three months! Let her sleep with the dogs and then make sure the chores are done. I refuse to live in a dirty household!" he barked, staring down at the little girl who had never done anything to him.
         Morgaine watched silently as her mother's face was contorted with rage. "How dare you!" she yelled back, protecting her daughter. "I am of the royal line of Avalon! No man will ever have power over me!" she screamed, walking past him with Morgaine's delicate hand clutched in her own. As they passed him, she stopped, saying. "This house is only dirty because you are in it!"
         In a rage, Amin grabbed her hand and slapped her across the face. "Woman, never speak to me like that! I should have put you away years ago when you gave me no son! I'm only keeping you here to stay in the good graces of the Lady of Avalon and the King!" With that last note said, he stormed out of the hall, leaving Gwynne lying on the floor, blood pouring from her nose. Morgaine bent down and handed her mother a handkerchief that she pulled out of her pocket. She wiped small tears away from her mother's eyes, sitting on the floor next to her.
         "Why do you let him treat you like that? Why don't you run away?" she asked her, laying the gentle hand of a six year old on her mother's shoulder. Gwynne looked at Morgaine, her face showing love and hate and pain all at the same time.
         "Morgaine...dear, sweet Morgaine. I'm sorry that I haven't been as good to you as I could have been. I love you dearly, as much as I love your father. Somethings are under the will of the Goddess, and it can't be changed no matter how hard we try." she stuttered, tears falling from her eyes. She took the small, soft hand in hers and held it close to her heart. "You must promise me that no matter what, you will never give in. Fight those things that you can change. Learn to live with the ones that you can't change." she paused. "If you are ever in a situation that you can't change, and you don't like the outcome of it, fight it. Let people know that you are your own woman. Let them know that you are a child of the Goddess. Let her light be your guide."
         They sat there for a few minutes, just staring at each other. Gwynne grabbed Morgaine into a tight hug and held her close, not wanting to let go of the girl who had been the only innocent love she had. Morgaine lay there in her mother's arms, small tears forming in her eyes. This was proof that her mother loved her, and now she regretted all the thoughts that she had had against her. From now on, things will be different; they will be better. She closed her eyes, listening to the soft humming of the tale of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table. Morgaine, listening intently, soon fell into a deep slumber.


         She awoke the next morning to birds singing outside the window. Sunlight poured into her bland room, making the dark blue walls seem bright and cheery. She gazed around, wondering how long she had been asleep. Morgaine, realizing how early it was, thought that the promise she made to Lorimere and that later this night, she would be leaving for Avalon, the island of mist.
         The young child hopped out of bed, dressing herself quickly and throwing on her old riding cloak. She silently crept out of the house and into the castle yards, the sun just starting to rise. The guards didn’t question Morgaine as she bid them raise the gates to the grounds. She walked out, breathing in the fresh, brisk morning air and smiling to herself. She walked quickly to the stables, opening the large wooden doors with a small creeking noise.
         “Is anyone here?” she asked, looking for Lorimere and his men. Footsteps were heard in the hall to her right, and when she looked, a figure came around the corner, lost in the shadows.
         “Good morning, Little Lady! I wasn’t expecting you here so soon.” said Lorimere in his deep, sweet sounding voice. “You can feed the horses, I haven’t done that yet. Once you done, I have something to show you.” he said, walking to the back of the barn and climbing a ladder. He threw down some hay bales and Morgaine set to work. That was one reason that she looked on Lorimere as her older brother; he didn’t treat her like everyone else. He treated her as an equal, and she valued that very much. She took three flecks of hay to each horse, patting each one on the head and slipping Ceridwyn a few treats with her meal.
         When she was done, and covered in hay, she walked to where Lorimere had been standing. He motioned for her to follow him, and they walked around the corner into a single paddock. Morgaine gasped as she saw what was there.
         In the round paddock was one of the most beautiful horses she had ever seen. He had a fiery look in his eye, his head held with dignity and propriety. She slowly walked up to the horse and placed her hand on the metal fence. She gazed up at the creature with awe. His eyes showed a passion and fierceness that Morgaine had never known to exist. His sleek black coat was beautifully polished and his black mane and tail had little strands of silver in it. He was quite the young horse, and Morgaine instantly fell in love with him.
         “He’s a thoroughbred stallion. He’s a beaut’, but I’m afraid he isn’t broken yet.” said Lorimere, standing next to her.
         “Let me try.” said Morgaine, her small face fixed on the horse.
         “You’re too young. I don’t know if you’d be able to handle his strength.”
         “Please? You said it yourself, there is no other person in this castle that rides like I do.” she begged, shooting him her best puppy look, her eyes showing a longing for the horse.
         “Alright, you wait here.” said Lorimere after a few minutes of looking at the girl.          “I will be right back.” Morgaine waited, a little impatiently, and finally Lorimere returned with a saddle and bridle. He entered the paddock and tried to put them on the horse, but the young colt shied away, his feet prancing with anxiety. After many more minutes, the horse was tacked and ready. Morgaine slowly entered the paddock as to not scare the poor creature and walked up to look him in the face. She placed a hand on his velvety nose and smiled, pulling his head down and whispering in his ear. The horse’s eyes softened as she did this and when Morgaine backed away, he stood there like a common plow horse. She put her foot in the stirrup, lifting herself up into the saddle.
         “Let go, Lorimere. I can handle him.” she said matter-of-factly, and when he did, the horse bolted off to the side of the paddock. Morgaine laughed, saying, “Yes, get it out of your system while you can.” She let the panicked horse run around for a little while, bucking and trying, with failed attempts, to throw the child off. After about an hour, the young stallion calmed down, reducing his speed to a dragging walk.
         “Now, that wasn’t so bad was it?” she asked the horse, patting him on the neck. She spurred him into a canter, riding around the paddock like she was in a show. The horse held his head high, pointing his feet and swishing his tail. Lorimere, with a shake of his head, left them to be alone.
         “I couldn’t imagine that anyone would let you ride that horse. You’re a girl!” came a voice followed by laughter. Morgaine wheeled the horse around to face the direction the noise had come from and saw a group of boys standing there, laughing at her. “Shouldn’t you be inside spinning and doing women’s things?” asked the same voice. The boy was very skinny and tall, with fiery red hair and bright green eyes. He looked to be about twelve years old and was surrounded by other boys that looked similar to him. Welsh…thought Morgaine, rolling her eyes.
         “I highly doubt, sir, that you could do half as well with this horse as I could. The dog could probably stay on longer.” she commented with a smirk. She trotted over and dismounted, patting the horse’s head and slinging her arm around his neck.
         The boy looked stunned. He entered the paddock in a fury and grabbed the reins out of Morgaine’s hands. He threw himself up into the saddle and spurred the horse so hard that he bucked right away. The young lad, having not been expecting that, was thrown off onto his butt, landing in the mud. He stood, brushing the dirt off his clothes.          He ran over, yelling, “Stupid horse!” and kicked the poor animal in the leg. It didn’t phase the stallion any, but it made Morgaine as angry as a bull. She ran to the kid in a fury and punched him in the gut with all her force, knocking him to the ground.
         “Don’t you ever come around here again, you cretin!” she yelled, dragging him out of the paddock. His friends looked stunned, but followed him off towards the town. After recounting the story to Lorimere and making sure that the horse was going to be okay, she walked back up to the castle, caked in dust.

Chapter 4

         “Morgaine, child, where were you?” asked Gwynne, sitting at the breakfast table. She was dressed in a royal blue dress and her hair was done up in an old fashion from Scotland. She looked slightly worried about her daughter; afraid that maybe she had been hurt. “Why are you dressed like that? Just look at you…” she said, standing and walking over to her. She began brushing dust off of Morgaine’s cloak, saying, “You look like a shepherdess who has spent too much time in the fields!”
         “I was with Lorimere in the stables, Mother.” she said, recounting the tale of the beautiful new horse to her mother.
         “I wish you wouldn’t do that, but I guess I can’t stop you. You need to go up and change. Your Aunt Viviane will be here within the next few hours to get you.”
         “You mean you aren’t taking me there?” said Morgaine, a frown on her face. She would have enjoyed spending a little more time with her mother.
         “I’m sorry, little one, but I’m afraid not. Now go and make yourself presentable.” Gwynne said, a frown on her face, too. She kissed the child on her forehead and sent her up the stairs, sitting back down at the table and ordering food and wine to be readied for her guests.

         Morgaine ran upstairs, puffs of dust coming off of her clothes with each step. She walked into her room to find one of her mother’s ladies waiting for her. On the bed lay a beautiful red gown, embroidered with golden flowers. She quickly changed and the lady helped her to fix her hair up.
         “So, Miss, you’re going to Avalon I hear?” she asked Morgaine, brushing through her silky black hair.
         “You heard right then, Elena.” Morgaine said in reply, looking into the mirror at Elena.
         “Aren’t you excited?” asked the girl. Morgaine smiled, looking at her reflection. Elena was no more than ten years older than Morgaine, and she was soon to be married to one of the king’s best knights. Morgaine thought she was beautiful; long blonde hair and crystal blue eyes.
         “Of course I am!” she exclaimed, laughing. “I’m going to Avalon! I get to meet the aunt that I’ve heard so many stories about! I’m going to be a ruler there one day!”
         “Well, I hope you’re happy there. You’ll have to come back to see me wed though.” she added with a smile. She pulled Morgaine’s hair into a tight braid that ran down her back and weaved a string of moonstones into it. She placed a thin circlet of silver upon her head and took her hand, helping her rise from her seat.
         “I’ll be there for sure! I wouldn’t miss your wedding for anything.” she said, hugging Elena and thanking her for helping her prepare. She turned on her heel and walked through the door of the room. On her way downstairs, she passed the library where Amin sat. At least I won’t have to see him anymore, she thought, walking past.

         Morgaine walked downstairs, looking beautiful in her gown. Her mother sat at the table, patiently waiting for news of Viviane’s arrival. The little child sat down at the high table, smiling and excited, anticipating the coming of her aunt.
         A squire called from outside, announcing, “Make way for the Lady Viviane! Make way!” The doors opened slowly and a lady of about thirty and two years came in. She looked young and wise, her eyes a silvery color and her hair as long and silky black as Morgaine’s. She was short, standing no taller than five feet, and she didn’t really walk, she glided. Upon her brow was a small blue crescent moon. It showed faintly, obviously having been there for some time. The woman’s clothes were elegant and plain at the same time. She wore a saffron gown that was unadorned. Morgaine smiled as the woman sat down next to her. The lady smiled down at the little girl and turned to Gwynne.
         “Viviane, sister, would you care for something to eat?” asked Gwynne in a pleasant voice.
         “Yes, and perhaps a little wine as well.” she said, adding, “If it isn’t too much trouble.”
         “Of course it isn’t.” Gwynne said with a wave of her hand. The servants came out of the kitchens and lay enough food for the three people upon the table. Gwynne and Morgaine had plenty of meat, and Morgaine even had a little wine. She noticed though that Viviane touched no meat and ate only a small amount.
         “Why aren’t you eating meat, Aunt?” asked the inquisitive girl. She looked up at the lady, who smiled down at her.
         “A priestess does not eat meat except for on special occasions or festivals.” Viviane said, patting the girl on the head. She turned back to Gwynne and they chatted for a while of courtly matters, such as who was with child and the state of the kingdom. After a little while, down came Amin from the library. He bowed to Viviane, taking her hand and kissing it.
         “It has been long since we have had the pleasure of your company, dear Lady. Will you stay with us long?” he questioned, a look of longing in his eyes. Viviane smiled at him with no effort what so ever and took her hand away from his grip.
         “I’m afraid not, but I must tell you that you had better be kinder to your wife.” she said with a look at Gwynne. Amin looked stunned and taken aback. He shot a nasty glare at his wife and looked back at the Lady of the Lake.
         “I do not mistreat her, Ma’am.” he commented, trying to sound truthful.
         “Do not lie. She said nothing to me about it, but you forget I have the Sight and can see the things that I will to see.” she said quietly, turning and sitting in her chair again. Amin, looking somewhat scared, turned and left the hall in a hurry, leaving them to return to their conversation.
         “Now, we need to speak of little Morgaine here.” Viviane voiced, looking down at her niece. “Are you sure you want to give her up for fostering?”
         “Yes, I’m sure.” Gwynne said, her voice a little shaky. “That is where her destiny lies.” Viviane looked at her sister with sympathy, laying a hand upon her shoulder.
         “You know, you could come too. You have the chance to get away from all this; the chance to be free and alive again. Sister, I hate to see you in misery.” Viviane showed the first emotion that Morgaine had ever seen expressed on her face. She looked hopeful, sorrowful, and angry at the same moment. It was obvious that she wanted her sister to be happy.
         “I cannot leave, Viviane. I don’t know how, but I know that my destiny lies here in this castle. I will find some way to manage, you can be sure. Besides, Avalon has no need of me any time soon. I just want my daughter to be safe and content.” she said, glancing towards Morgaine and then looking back at Viviane.
         With a sigh, Viviane continued to the matter of Morgaine. “Well, I plan on leaving as soon as possible so that we can get there by sunset. She will need a just one set of clothes. We will provide her with the dress of the Maidens there.” Turning to Morgaine, she smiled, saying, “You will love it there, child. It is beautiful. Plus, there is a school just on the outskirts for children who are receiving an education. Perhaps when you have time, you can go there and meet some friends.”
         Morgaine smiled back at Viviane. Already, she loved her aunt more than anyone else. She was kind, smart, and treated her with respect. Morgaine wouldn’t find anyone else like that for a long time to come.
         “Why don’t you go and gather a few things, my dear.” said Gwynne, gazing down at the smiling child. Morgaine, happy as could be, leapt down off of the chair and pranced up to her room to pack some of her belongings, leaving the two women alone.
         “Viviane, thank you for this. It is much appreciated.” Gwynne said, her voice low.
         “It’s not a problem. I will be proud to have her in my company. She’s grown so much…” Viviane said, her face lost in thought. “Last time I saw her she was but a baby in your arms. Now she is almost a lady! She will be a fine ruler one day, I can tell.”
         “I do need to ask one thing of you, though.”
         “Name it and it will be yours if it is mine to give.”
         “She wants to go to the wedding of her attendant, Elena. Surely you remember her?” Gwynne said, her voice becoming sweeter.
         “Elena Eccleston? How could I forget!” she exclaimed, throwing a hand up. “I can still vividly remember the day we found her. Poor little baby, stuck in the castle garden and covered in dirt! I remember wanting to take her to Avalon and raising her there, but you wouldn’t let me.” she said, smiling at her sister. “She sure was a rowdy little gal. Who is she marrying?”
         “Braeden Josephson.” Gwynne said, raising an eyebrow.
         “Braeden!? Oh, how perfect! A king’s knight and one of her oldest friends. They are certainly a smart match.” Viviane said, nodding. “Now, on to other matters.”
Gwynne nodded, waiting for her to continue. “Morgaine will be able to go to the wedding, but only if she completes at least her book teaching first. It shouldn’t take her to long; she’s a bright child. Basically, she will be learning the history of Avalon and so forth. Once that is done, and she is back from Elena’s wedding, she will start to learn about her service to the Goddess. She will learn over the next few years what she needs to become a priestess. She should be done with her training within five or six years.”
         “Of course. What about Apollo? Do we still plan on having them betrothed?” Gwynne questioned.
         “If all goes well, yes. He will be there when we arrive, for his parents are staying in my company for a while.”
         Morgaine quickly rambled back down the stairs, a single bag slung over her shoulder, wearing her old tattered riding cloak. Gwynne rose, embracing her daughter.          “You behave, Little Lady. I will see you as soon as I can get away.” Silent tears fell down both of their cheeks. They hugged each other, crying and telling one another that everything would be okay. After about five or ten minutes, Morgaine let go, walking over to her aunt.
         “Are you ready child?”
         “I am.” With a wave to her mother, they walked out the castle door, finding that Lorimere was standing there with Ceridwyn, a white horse that Morgaine supposed belonged to Viviane, and the black stallion that she had rode earlier.
         “I want you to take this horse, Miss.” he said, giving her the reins. He looked distraught, but no sign of tears showed on his solemn face. Morgaine ran up, hugging Lorimere.
         “Thank you!” she exclaimed, and then quieting her voice, said, “I’m going to miss you.”
         “I’ll miss you too, Little Lady.” he whispered to her, setting her up on the stallion. Viviane nodded to him, mounting her horse and taking Ceridwyn’s reins. She spurred the white steed, motioning for Morgaine to follow. With one last look back at the castle, a silent tear rolled down her cheek. She saw her mother and Lorimere waving to her from afar. They passed through the gates of the castle grounds, making their way to Avalon.

Chapter 5

         By sundown they reached a giant lake. Soft mist curled over the surface and around their ankles. The sun showed dimly, red, purple, and pink staining the sky. On the opposite side, Morgaine could see a towering building made of stone, towers forming every so often. She supposed that was the school that Viviane had talked about. She looked around, but saw no sign of the island she had longed to go to.
         “Where is it?” she voiced, still looking around.
         “Patience is a virtue, dear one.” Viviane said, dismounting her horse and walking out into the shallow waters of the lake. She stared out at the lake, focusing hard on nothing. Soon, Morgaine perceived something like a boat coming out of nowhere. It rowed up to them and Viviane stepped in, motioning for Morgaine to do the same. She took her aunt’s hand, carefully stepping into the barge, afraid that she might fall through the floor of an illusion. There were three or four little men there, no taller than Morgaine or Viviane. One walked out and led the three horses on the barge before the others began rowing out into the middle of the lake.
         “You must be quiet now child.” Viviane said, standing and walking to the prow of the barge. She stood there silently with a solemn face. Raising her arms over her head, she looked towards the sky. She took a deep breath and lowered her arms again, and as she did the mists parted. Morgaine stood looking at a beautiful island, the sun shining brightly in the sky, and now beginning to fade in the distance. It was half covered with a lush green forest, and on the north side of the island there was a large hill, crowned with a giant stone circle. Morgaine gasped at the sheer beauty of Avalon, gazing out over the waters as they approached the shore.
         There were many girls between the ages of six and thirty, all dressed in pale oranges, greens, and reds. As the boat touched shore, Viviane stepped out and, putting her hands to her heart, bent her head in greeting. Morgaine looked astonished at what was happening around her and she sat there, waiting for her aunt to turn to her. Viviane gave a small smile to her niece and extended a hand to her. She grabbed Viviane’s hand, pulling herself out of the boat. The horses were led on a path to the right of them by one of the short little men that had been rowing the boat.
         “Daughters, this is Morgaine Bedwyn, my niece. She will be learning the ways of the priestess and learning to serve the Goddess. I would hope you all will treat her with the same respect you show me; which no doubt you will.” Viviane said, and with a small tug on Morgaine’s hand. She led her up a path in front of them, past all the priestesses who had greeted them. Morgaine looked up to the end of the path where a big stone house sat, the sunlight now fading in the distance.
         As they reached it, she asked, “Are those really all your daughters, Aunt?”          Viviane laughed, looking down at the little Morgaine. “Not by blood. We are all the children of the Goddess so; therefore, we are all related. Here in Avalon, I stand in the representation of the Goddess on Earth, so yes, I call them my children.” Morgaine, understanding what she had said to a certain extent, followed Viviane into the house.          “Tonight, little one, you can sleep in the guest room. Tomorrow, I will have one of the attendant priestesses show you around and you will go to live in the House of Maidens. You will start you’re training in two days.”
         Morgaine happily ate the food and drank the water that was given to her. When she sipped the water, Morgaine looked up at Viviane with a curious expression. “Where does this come from? I have never tasted water so sweet!”
         “It’s water from the Holy Well. It is the only water that we drink. We rarely have wine and such.”
         The young girl looked around the room, seeing a small looking glass on a table near the bed. It was rimmed with gold and had a strange language in it that she couldn’t understand.
         “What is that? What does it say?” she asked Viviane, looking up at her.
         “You will learn when the time is right. You’ll learn that language during your training, there is no need to worry.”
         Morgaine and Viviane sat there for much of the night discussing what would await the child as she got older. They talked of useless things too, such as what colors best suited certain things and who was the best at crafting clothes. Morgaine, as she grew older, would learn to enjoy small talk. It would give her a chance to be taken away from the everyday haunting of the life that lay ahead of her.

Chapter 6

         The years slowly came and went, as did my youth. I was trained in every aspect of serving the Goddess and being a priestess, becoming one of the most powerful in Avalon. By the age of ten I had mastered starting fire, and by the age of twelve, I had mastered bringing rain and learned to control the Sight. I learned to love Avalon and all the people I was with. One of my best friends was Niniane, a blonde haired, blue-eyed girl who was a full three years older than myself. She taught me many things that I would need to know, such as the history of Britain and such. She went into more depth than the elder teachers of the isle. We used to sit on the Tor and look at the land that lay in front of us. There were times when the kids from the neighboring school would be outside and we could watch them through the veil of mist. That was one of the peculiar things about Avalon, you could see people on the outside, but they couldn’t see you.
         There were days when I would sit there and watch the kids, all just about my age. There were a few that piqued my interests. There was one girl who was almost always alone. She had long black hair and piercing emerald green eyes full of sorrow and pain. It broke my heart to watch her, sitting alone, usually with a little black bat flitting around her. One day, I decided, I would meet her. Back then, I didn’t know that she would become one of my best and most trustworthy friends. There was another boy with brown hair and eyes who I would watch for hours on end. I would sit there and stare at him, thinking that I would surely like to meet him one day as well. I eventually came to have a small crush on him, but hid it from most. Then, I didn’t know that he would be one of the two people I would love the most in my life.
         From the time I was six to the time I was ten, there was a boy who used to come to Avalon with his parents. His name was Apollo Strange. I used to follow him everywhere he went. I didn’t care that he was two years older, I just thought that he was the sweetest most handsome guy I had ever seen. We were really great friends, and he would tell me stories of the Americas and of the goings-on of the world. On my tenth birthday, he was supposed to come back to Avalon for a short while, but never did. I wouldn’t see him again for four or five years, but it seemed much longer than that. The only thing I could think of as an explanation was that he was busy with his family, school, or pursuing some other life. Every time a thought came into my head that he might be hurt, or worse, dead, I would wipe it away from my mind.
         By the age of fourteen, I was ready for my ultimate test. Only a priestess of Avalon could open the gates of mist between the worlds. Viviane took me out on the barge to the outer world, telling me that I would have to get into Avalon on my own. She sat in the back of the boat silently. I looked at her for a few minutes, realizing that she hadn’t changed a bit. She still looked like the Viviane that had brought me there a mere six years ago. I looked at my reflection in the water, not seeing what I had expected. I looked a lot like Viviane; black hair fell down my back in semi-wavy strands and my skin had become more delicate looking. My eyes were still the same misty blue-gray, but now they showed the hint of troublemaker, yet someone who was still carried by reason. I was becoming a lady, and I was proud.
         The boat set off at a slow pace, creeping into the mist. We reached the center of the lake and I stood on the bow of the boat, shaking from nervousness and fear. What if I couldn’t do it? I quickly wiped that thought away; a priestess must learn to hide her feelings. I slowly inhaled, raising my arms over my head. I sat like that for a few minutes, feeling the power of the Goddess flow into me, bringing me life and being. I exhaled, lowering my hands, and as I did, I slowly opened my eyes, tears forming in them. There in front of me was Avalon, my one true home.
         Viviane stood, embracing me, saying, “I knew you would pass, my dear.”
         It was also at this time that I received some of the most shocking information of my life. Viviane turned to me, saying, “You will be a great Lady, just as Morgan Le Fay, your grandmother.” I was shocked as she said this, thinking that it all made perfect sense. Fewer and fewer people were coming to Avalon anymore, and I had the Sight, something that most didn’t have anymore. My family must have got it from somewhere. I sat there in silence, thinking about what all of this meant.
         As we struck the shore, a small group of priestesses from the House of Maidens congratulated me. Niniane came up and hugged me tightly, telling me how proud she was. Later that night, I lay atop the Tor as Viviane herself, something that she rarely did, tattooed the blue crescent of Avalon upon my brow, officially making me a priestess.

more to come...