25. Dragon & Fae

“MORGAN!”

Morgan’s lashes flitted. Soothing light warmed his skin. A sweet breeze hit his face, filling his nose with the wonderful scent of flowers. His eyes adjusted, and as the world around him came into focus, he gasped.

He rested among an ocean of flowers; some familiar, others strange and beautiful. He sat with his back against the trunk of a wide tree, and he glanced up to see bright red leaves dancing in the wind.

If this is what comes after death… that might be okay.

A hum left his lips as he basked in the warm sun, filled with serenity, when an enchanting melody graced his ears.

Across the blue sea, upon the breeze

My one and only, he waits for me

My peace, my refuge

My heart, my home

And with him waiting

I’m ne’er alone

The song beckoned to something in Morgan. It was old and familiar, like the sweetest dream he’d forgotten upon waking, slipping through his fingers and making him long to dream again. Rising to his feet with a stretch, he caught sight of a bright, blue sea glittering in the distance. The song continued, and Morgan’s feet began following its call.

In the darkness, and in the light

Our lasting promise shall hold me tight

In joy, in sorrow

In hope, in pain

We’ll greet the sunrise

And shine again

Morgan pressed on, his wounded heart healing as he walked, listening to the heavenly tune. He strode now through a great forest of trees reaching high enough to scrape the pale pink sky. Gentle light filtered through the branches, casting warm beams over blankets of flowers. This place felt so close to him, like an old friend welcoming him home.

I hear him calling, he’s come so far

I’ll hold him closely, my shining star

For life, forever

I give my heart

Safe here in my arms

To never part

The song began to overwhelm him, a tear of joy rolling down his face. He knew these words. He knew this voice—this beautiful voice. He broke into a run. Desperately, he dashed through the wood with the wind at his back, urging him onward. The flowers at his feet were caught up in the breeze and the petals broke free, fluttering around him, cheering him on as if the whole world were on his side.

He reached the end of the forest, beyond which lay a glistening, white beach that spanned the sapphire seaside.

Someone stood at the water’s edge.

His golden hair shined in the sunlight, clad in a simple, white tunic and leather trousers. His feet were bare, and his sleeves were rolled to the elbows as he skipped stones across the water, singing. Morgan leaned against a tree at the edge of the wood, his heart overflowing as he listened.

Across the blue sea, upon the breeze

My one and only, he waits for me

My peace, my refuge

My heart, my home

And with him waiting

I’m ne’er... alone...

With the last line of the song, the man turned. His blue eyes sparkled in the sun as they filled with tears to match Morgan’s, crinkling at the corners. His smile broke like a sunburst through the clouds. “Fy cariad,” he spoke softly, those two little words filled with so much tenderness and relief, “You found me.”

Morgan pushed off from the tree, racing through the sand. He soared across the beach and Arthur threw his arms wide, catching him in an embrace. Arthur held him tight, spinning around in circles through the sand as they laughed with an all-consuming joy.

He was home—safe in the arms of his beloved.

Morgan pulled back, still pressed to Arthur’s chest. He ran his hand through the man’s hair, drinking in that beautiful face. Morgan pulled him close, parting his mouth in a desperate kiss. Arthur’s soft but certain lips caressed his own, flooding him with fire and peace all at once. How long it continued, they would never know nor care. Time was nothing here, and his heart was whole.

Arthur broke the kiss with a smile, swaying with Morgan in a slow dance as he continued humming their song, a song he had written just for Morgan. He’d sang it to him for the first time in their special place—a long, flat boulder that rested in a clearing in the Brecillian wood along the river’s edge beneath the stars. It was the place that Arthur had told Morgan that he loved him on the night he fled the castle, the very reason he had remained in Camelot.

Tears cascaded down Morgan’s face as the man sang to him. He had no words. There was nothing he could say to express himself now. Arthur wiped away a tear and pressed a kiss to his cheek in its place.

“No more tears, my sweet boy,” he whispered, “I’m here.”

Morgan wanted to give him what he asked, he wanted to smile for him. He wanted to laugh and dance until the world crumbled away, that they might join the stars, shining so brightly together. “I failed you,” he sobbed, “I couldn’t... I couldn’t save you!”

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, staring deeply into his eyes. “Failed me? You could never, my darling. No matter our partings, we will always find one another again. And here we are, all because of you.”

“B- Because of me?”

Arthur searched his eyes. “That was why you left, was it not? To protect me should your vision come to pass?”

“My vision-” Morgan pulled himself from Arthur, turning on the spot. He hadn’t noticed it on his way, entranced by Arthur’s song, but in the center of the forest behind him, a great tree of red and gold leaves rose high above the others. “Avalon... my gods, we’re in Avalon!”

“Are we? Truly?” Arthur glanced around as if seeing the realm for the first time. “I see now why you disappeared to this place so often. It’s quite magnificent.”

“But...” Morgan’s jaw fell as he fought to make sense of this. “You can’t be here. Your soul... it’s...” He stepped closer to Arthur, placing a hand to his chest and searching his face. “Aaron?”

Arthur’s brow creased. “My love... I may have taken my jest about how attractive Lord Delling appeared at the harvest celebration a tad far, but I hardly think this is the time for revenge.”

Morgan’s eyes threatened to leave their sockets. “You don’t...” he sputtered, “It’s you. The old you. Gan y pwerau, what have I done?” He glanced around again in disbelief. “How long have you been here?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea... a few hours? A century? You once told me that time moves differently here, yes?” Arthur reached out to him, a look of concern crossing his face.

Morgan turned back to him, grasping his shoulders as Arthur took his waist.

“Sweetheart...” Arthur studied him, looking over his appearance as that concern grew in his voice, “Morgan... your hair, your strange garments. Your speech... these marks on your skin. How long since I last looked upon your face, fy cariad? What hells have you traversed without me at your side?”

Morgan took a sharp breath. His lip trembled, and he told Arthur the tale of the many, many years they had spent apart. He spoke of the fall of their kingdom, of the deep sleep that took him away, and of the short-lived time that they had found one another again. By the time he finished, Arthur’s face was blank, completely beyond words that might comfort his lover.

He closed his eyes, remembered his breath, and caressed Morgan’s cheek. “You astounding, brilliant, beautiful man...” Arthur pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I am so very proud to call you my own.”

There was a sudden flash in the corner of his vision as Arthur pulled away, walking toward the water’s edge in thought. Morgan blinked the sunlight out of his eyes, crossing the beach to where he’d seen the flicker of light.

“Darling?” Arthur called after him.

Morgan turned back, assuming it had been a trick of the light. “I thought I saw-”

There it was again.

He moved faster now, trying to catch the source while its location was fresh in his mind, and he heard Arthur’s footsteps from behind. The waves washed in and out over the sand at his feet. The light shifted as he approached, becoming steady and permanent beneath the sun. “Arthur... it’s-”

Arthur belted a single laugh, walking ahead of Morgan. He reached down into the surf, grinning wide as he lifted the shining blade from the sand. “While its nature isn’t nearly as loyal as your sword... you have to admit, its timing is impeccable.”

Morgan beamed at the sight of his Arthur, glowing in the sunset; feet bare and hair fluttering in the wind as he held Caliburn aloft. “It always comes when you need it most.”

“Still...” Arthur huffed, moving back into Morgan’s space, “Perhaps if we had forged it ourselves as we did Tyrillacht, it might be less fickle.” He glowered down at the blade.

“But why is it here now?” Morgan traced his fingers across the hilt, still in Arthur’s grip.

Arthur gave him a sideways grin. “Isn’t it obvious, fy cariad?”

Morgan searched his eyes. There was that look again. Their respite here wasn’t to last.

“This... future me...” Arthur draped his arms, along with the sword, over Morgan’s shoulders. “Aaron, you said? Is there a way to save him? To restore his heart?”

Morgan shook his head. “The way it was taken from him... it splinters the soul. Even if I were to steal it back... he would never be whole again.”

“So...” Arthur smiled brightly, placing Morgan’s hand on his chest directly over his heart. “If you had the missing pieces?”

Morgan’s eyes swelled. He looked up from his own hand to meet Arthur’s cocky grin, hope prickling its way across his skin.

“There it is,” Arthur whispered, running a thumb across Morgan’s jaw, “Will it work?”

“It has to.” Morgan’s breath quickened. “Arthur, it has to!”

“Then it seems, my sweet boy...” Arthur backed away with a smile, wading out into the water, Caliburn held tightly in one hand as he reached out for Morgan with the other. “You and I are off on a very long overdue adventure together.”

Daphne screamed out as Abernathy’s cannon primed, ready to decimate their friends. He laughed maniacally, a sound void of all humanity as his arm grew brighter. “But I’m afraid your happily ever after... ENDS... HERE!”

The cannon let loose. The blast rang in Daphne’s ears. She roared out as the impact sent a tumult of debris through the space. Shipping containers went flying in every direction. She heard a bellow of rage, and a large shadow went careening across the lot through the haze, ending with a loud crash.

Something flashed within the chaos—there and gone in a glint of blue.

“Gwen!” Daphne cried out, trying to stand.

A cough came from behind her. “Daph! Are you okay?”

“Shane?” She turned, trying to see through the dust.

“Yeah! I’m- I’m good.”

Another cough farther away. “What in the seven hells happened?”

“Theresa!”

Groans and hacking came from all around as the others regained their footing. A pair of coughs came from near the site of the cannon’s blast. “I’m here! We’re fine, but I don’t-”

“Gwen?” Shane called, “How did you guys survive that?”

“I... I don’t know. There was this... flash and then- Oh my gods! Aaron?”

For the briefest of moments, Daphne feared that Abernathy had reanimated Aaron’s body, making good on his threat, and then the dust settled.

A brilliant sphere of light shined in both blue and violet, creating a massive barrier, covered in runes that Daphne had never seen—and holding that shield in place, protecting Gwen and Lancelot, stood Aaron. His face was rigid, his gaze fixed in a stare that made her blood run cold. The kindness that usually dwelled there was nowhere to be seen.

“Aaron!” she yelled.

He simply stared ahead, full of fury, a righteous fury that could burn the world to ash. The others moved to Daphne’s side, slack-jawed and gaping. A muffled grunt came from across the battlefield.

The blast against Aaron’s shield had thrown Abernathy to the other end of the lot. He groaned, his whirring limbs struggling to lift him. “What witchcraft is this?” he hissed, “I own you, you sad echo of a bygone age! Kneel before your master!” He bounded at Aaron, clearing three meters with every stride.

Aaron dropped the shield, turning back to Gwen and Lancelot. “Go.” Two voices left his lips in perfect unison.

Gwen stared at him in disbelief as Lancelot ushered her to her feet, hurrying out of Abernathy’s path. Aaron looked ahead, staring the mechanical horror down as he lunged with his bladed arm outstretched. Daphne and the others held their breath as the blow landed, a shock blasting across the space.

Aaron hadn’t moved. His furious stare hadn’t even flinched. In his hand, parrying the rune-tech weapon, locking it between conjoined blades was a black sword set with glittering amethysts.

“Is that-” Daphne’s comm fritzed. She held her hand to her temple, attempting to adjust away the static, when she noticed the others doing the same. “You all getting this interference?”

“Uh...” Shane said, eyes flitting between his display and Aaron, “I don’t think it’s interference.”

Daphne opened her mouth, her display crackling again as a string of code appeared—from Aaron’s line.

gt;gt;gt; Aaron Jones:

“//CommencingSequence/Future_Protocol/Process_Synthesis”

Theresa gasped, “Synthesis?”

“You’re not Jones! You can’t be!”Abernathy roared as he fought to free himself from Tyrillacht’s hold, Aaron showing no sign of struggle.

“We answer the call from across time,”the voices rang out, steady and without shouting, “The callof the Fae.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Abernathy growled, still caught in Aaron’s hold.

“We are the harbinger of the kingdom—of the Fae and the Dragon restored.”

Another line of code came through from Aaron’s comm.

gt;gt;gt; Aaron Jones: “Data located//leFay”

“Morgan?” Daphne whispered, “What... what does that mean?”

“If Abernathy still has Aaron’s soul, who is that? It’s not talking about numbers and code.” Theresa nodded toward the battlefield. “It’s talking about his very essence.”

“The violet light…” Gwen stammered, clinging tight to Lancelot, “But that blue... that’s the same color as the core! The same color as Aaron’s spells!”

“Then how-” Shane was interrupted by more messages.

gt;gt;gt; Aaron Jones: “Unable to locate data/Pendragon… Backup data located/Pendragon1.0”

“Holy hells...” Daphne’s whisper became a victorious cheer, “He did it. Morgan found Arthur!”

Theresa stepped forward, hands clutched to her chest. “Both of them. Wielding Aaron’s body through Arthur’s connection.” She whipped back. “Daphne, I want to get them back too, but you saw that message! They’re in a state of Synthesis! This isn’t Morgan or Arthur reaching out to us, but something else entirely! It’s willing Aaron’s device to tell us what’s happening! They’re-”

Aaron’s body pulsed with light, sending another wind across the space, pushing them back. Violet and blue swelled around him, his eyes blazing with murderous intent. “We were given life and purpose in ages lost. We arrive now to enact the will of our creator.”

Abernathy’s eyes filled with terror as the voices of the being in front of him rose.

“We see thee. We judge thee. An unwelcome whip at thine vessel’s back!”

“You are not my king!”Abernathy bellowed, “You have no right to judge me! I have taken your power! This worthless wretch had no idea what his research could do! I made him into a god!”

“Thou art no god. Thou art a parasite. Insignificant. Unwanted. As for power...” Another pulse raced through the lot. Aaron’s eyes burned like stars in the night.“We shall show thee the meaning of the word.”

“Who in the seven hells are you?” Abernathy roared.

“Theresa...” Daphne shook, fearing that Arthur and Morgan might meet the same end as so many before them. “Can they do it?”

“It’s- It’s never been done! Every attempt has failed! Every single one!” Theresa’s voice cracked, “It’s just a myth!”

“Yeah…” Gwen stepped out of Lancelot’s arms and took a step forward, her eyes sparkling as she reveled in the light radiating from her friends. “But so are they.”

“Our name is of no consequence to an ant, but if thou dost require something to dwell on when we cast thou back into the abyss-”

Another message came over their comms.

gt;gt;gt; Aaron Jones: “//Engaged”

“Thou may call us-”

A final shockwave split the air; a roaring gale that nearly swept them off their feet. Blue and violet coalesced before their eyes. A blinding light split the night, enveloping everything for miles as those looking on were forced to shield their faces, shining like a beacon across the wastes and over the city—a light of indigo.

“Albion.”