"And so it was that when his eyes looked the last upon the Isle of Avalon, his last breath swept away from his lungs, and left his body, dead."
She looked upon the last words that she knew all too well, and, with tears in her eyes, closed the book. She swept her fingers on the golden letters that clearly read The Legends of King Arthur and took a sniff at the old stretched out leather. She loved the oldie smell of books, especially this one. The musky aroma made her nose twitch, as it always did.
She sighed to herself, having finished for the seventh time this book, and put it back onto her shelf next to Merlin the Warlock and Tales of the Triscade. She stared longly at her big collection of legendary books, and smiled to herself. She walked back to her desk, where her lamp was still on, and the vague smell of burn touched her nose. She swiped some dust off of the wooden rolltop and glared at the paper that she had in front of her. Notes of analysis and scribbled names in almost unreadable writing longed the paper.
She took up her pen and started nibbling on the end. Now, where was I? Oh yes, the Battle of Camlann. For the past years she has been desperatly trying to figure out from different books and scripts where and how the legends really happened.
Ideas flew out of her head as she began to forget the words she had been studying for the past three hours. This is rediculous.
She once again got out of her chair and went back to her library, and took back the heavy book. She set it back on the desk, and opened it with grave difficulty. Now, where was I? She dragged her thin finger along the fine print on the yellowish paper until she found what she wanted.
"Before Mordred could take his sword and give the mortal blow, Arthur, his hands stained with his own pure blood, took up his sword and ran the man through. Expressionless, the wind was knocked out of his lungs, and, with his pale hands, covered his wounded chest. In a moment of sudden oblivion, Mordred's feet collapsed, and the body of the druid slipped off the blade, and fell to the ground. As he struggled to catch his breath, his blood poured out of his veins and heart, and so he laid there dead, while a flash passed through his eyes, of the innocent child he has once been."
She frowned. Mordred. She flipped through other pages, her eyes desperatly reading fragments of words in the process. There it is!
"The sky flooded with lightning and thunder boomed all around them. The dark, icy waves of wretched doom collapsed onto the ship that was destined to crash. As the babies cried in the lost sound of ocean vertigo and the screeching of the wooden sail, the undriven boat plunged into the unknown waters. The ship was a wreck, as it was destined to be. The May Day children were lost, sunk,, dead. In one sorrowful move, an imense wave came rushing down like a herd of untamed horses, and drowned what was left of the old wooden mat. Yet in the darkness and chaos, in the middle of emptyness, a child floated, as if dragged by magic and luck, cried out of its wits, and was pushed by the winds on a broken piece of what once was a ship."
For a second she actually felt sad for Mordred, and was glad that he was alive.
But then she realised what would happen to Arthur.
She closed the book firmly, and laid it on the edge of her table.
She took her piece of paper and scribbled on it:
" Baby Medraut survived the ship wreck, and as by magic survives chaos and sails back to family."
She sighed.
She felt as if she would never figure it out, as if it was just too hard to decipher. She just couldn't. She only had a few old manuscripts and tales, but she couldn't have solid evidence of their existence. She just had nothing left to descover: she had torn the books apart for clues, something that the writers would leave behind for somebody who would just bother to figure out.
She couldn't afford to stop now, she was too close.
She went back to her book case.
She sared at the books she had, and dragged a finger across the names.
The Battle of Death, Far Over Lands, Left On the Willow, Taming Her Envy, Serving Eternally, The Isle of Nimueh Gidelon, Sun, Merlin the --
Wait.
There was something there, staring at her, screaming.
She read the titles again.
The Battle of Death, Far Over Lands, Left On the Willow...
All the capital letters were big, with really fancy golden swirls. She never noticed that before.
Wait.
She read the big letters togather.
FOLLOW THE --
"Drew!" she heard her mom scream, but it was slightly buffered by the closed door.
"Drew! Come downstairs for dinner!" she screamed again.
Ugh. She dragged herself to the door. She opened it, and glanced behind at her room.
Now she knew where to look.
YOU ARE READING
Finding Avalon (On Hold)
Random"Before Mordred could take his sword and give the mortal blow, Arthur, his hands stained with his own pure blood, took up his sword and ran the man through. Expressionless, the wind was knocked out of his lungs, and, with his pale hands, covered his...
