“Far too many star returns have passed since our last meeting, dear Warren! Welcome back among your fellow Knights!”
“Indeed! Your companionship and leadership has been sorely missed! Thank the passed gods for their help!”
Mordred/Warren looked around at his fellows of the Order of the Green Heart. Those pledged to protect the remaining gods from the elven tyranny that brought about the downfall of the Heavens and the divine deaths.
“Is it your wish to banish our fallen sister Aa’l’iatia for her treachery in our plans?”
Warrens’ memories have yet to take over Mordreds’ as of yet. Confusion reigned in his minds’ landscape. Hazy but real images of himself riding on a great white beast, flaming obsidian rune-sword raised high, his voice a victorious growl, armor, beast and its armor stained with different colors of blood from the battlefield he had left….fading into he and….and…..Eldren?...hefting item after unsold item into the wagon. A short grumpy purple-skinned goblin swearing to some unknown gods or at…Mordred? Something about at least they had enough gold to buy food at the pub from Mordred’s arena victory… Who was this warrior? Why would he tolerate such foul language and behavior from a goblin?
“My liege? What is your wish for our sister Aa’l’iatia?” A familiar voice came to him from one side of his partly helmeted head. Odd. This body didn’t feel like the same one he had when he rode into this battle when the elves turned on the Order Knights.
“I realize that, at one time, she was your betrothed, but she turned on us all. You, of all Knights, should know the importance of duty above matters of the heart.” Came a harsh but respectful voice on his other side.
“My….Lady.. My…wife..” Warren/Mordred’s mouth moved. Even the tongue on this seemingly young human seemed different. As if he were in a different body. “Where….where am I, my Knights? Warren/Mordred looked around his gathered concerned comrades.You all look the same as when we rode into our last great battle together, but I feel different. Do I look…”
“No, my liege. We’re in different mortal bodies. The sorcerer Delarosini conducted spells into our armor, making sure that if we fell in battle, our essence would be locked to our armor and weapons.”
“Do you mean that I….am taking over….a mortal life?” Warren/Mordred looked over his armored limbs and hands, feeling of his shining helmet. He withdrew the obsidian sword. On cue, it changed shape subtly and alight in flame. He held it up, staring at it in wonder and memory.
“Do you remember, my liege?! Can you now fully recall our glorious battles to defend our King and the Land?!”
“Are you understanding your place now in the great plan?”
Warren’s/Mordred’s mind whirled with words, talking faces, secrets passed to his ears only, important noises, motions with this stone sword to destroy and defend against an opponent. Once again, they mixed with vague memories of a childhood in the deep forest, surviving on animal traps, what little crops they could grow and children encouraged to learn combative play. And then…being flung far from an exploding cart and meeting this purple-skinned goblin rapidly approaching him now. Now? Now?
“Get down here, you big lunk! We have work to do!”
One of the gathered Knights raised a bright, shining sword readying to slice the offending beast in two. It clashed loudly with a flaming, rune-etched stone sword.
“My liege?” he asked.
“Do not touch him.”
“He is merely a…”
“I said….do not touch him. He is…important…somehow.”
The gathered riders backed away, the one with the sword sheathing the glinting weapon.
“Are you still having difficulty with your memories, my liege? It will take time to..”
“Stop. Stop.’ Warren/Mordred shook his helmeted head, waving his gloved hands. “What is the meaning of all of this? I don’t even know who is asking. Please, I need to know!” Warren/Mordred’s frustration showing.
The Knight that almost cut Eldren in two began to tell him about their plan to restore order to Heaven and bring magic back to its rightful place in the world by….then Warren/Mordred vanished.
Mordred was “himself” again. He knew he didn’t have the armor or his familiar flaming sword. In fact, he wore his simple tunic that he always wore when working with Eldren. The outfit that was hard to come by the right size. Especially the shoes.
“Welcome, child.” a layer of ethereal voices surrounded the confused Deneon. No defined walls, ceiling or floor surrounded Mordred. Just voices, light and an unfamiliar smell. It was nice. Just…different. “The scent is from a flower called a lilac.” The close throat-less voices had no condescending tone. No lecturing as they spoke the name of the scent. He felt something slipped into one hand that was at his side. He held up that hand with a green stalk, an odd looking flower at the end pointing at his face. The scent that calmed his spinning mind was stronger in the petals in his sight.
“Who are you?” Mordred asked, not taking his eyes from the moving, unfurling and re-furling petals.
“We are no longer growing things such as the thing in your possession now.” The voices that were moving around him were no longer vague and disembodied. They became embodied now in the form of a young Denoan. A youth that Mordred knew from his days there in the woods. One of his tribe that was captured to be sold at market before it was…accidentally destroyed by Mordred and his fiery sword. “Come now, Mordred Vernaran. Was it an accident?”
“Marcus?” Marcus Reverly? How is this possible?!” Mordred approached the young Denoan that he recognized from his youth in the woods. Surviving, hunting, gathering and fishing. Doing their best to keep from getting caught to be sold as goods.
“And they call US barbarians.” Marcus shook his head letting the smile leave his face for a few moments, but it returned.
Mordred paused. “Wait. I’ve grown since the explosion. You’re still a child. The same as me when we…what is this?!” He backed away, looking around expecting….what..
Marcus’ welcoming smile to his tribe friend began re-shaping his face. To something animal-like. Mordred was well aware of his ability to shape-shift into a bear. It had been with him since that night in the wagon. He just attributed it to the right mix of oils that the slave merchants brought with them and the fire from his sword blowing up the whole mess, sending him and his friends flying into the surrounding woods. “Oh no, my dear old friend. The oils and fire had nothing to do with your grand, glorious gift.” Marcus said, continuing to shift into what looked like a fox’s head, his body growing tall and slender. Red-orange hair sprouting, his ears moving to the top of his head and growing tall, his nose turning into a thin snout. All of this seemed to cause no pain. He kept his eyes on Mordred, changing the position of his gaze as he grew somewhat taller, his smile still on his face and he circled Mordred.
“Grand, glorious gift?”
“Yes, my dear old friend! You were taken away by that horrendous goblin so you never got to see that the rest of us changed as well.” he motioned to his now mostly transformed form. He still stood upright on his thin legs, his thin arms behind his back as he walked slowly around Mordred like a school teacher addressing a wild child.
Meantime, the environment around them both shifted, changed. Instead of the bright warming light that surrounded them, it was as if clouds moved in and covered whatever source there was. Some sharp pains in one of his hands startled him. He found himself holding a thorny vine instead of the alien flower. He shook it out of his hand, throwing it away from them. Marcus laughed.
“Why, oh why, aren’t you growling and destroying everything in your sight, you beastly child?”
“Who are you really?!?” Mordred asked and then opened his palm that got the thorns in it, checking for wounds. There were none. The clouds got darker, with flashes of light at random with sounds of thunder. “Am I dead or something?”
Marcus laughed again. “No, no. Not at all. Better! You’re among your own kind! The True Gods of the Land!!” He threw his hands/paws around, dramatically, gesturing to one storm after another. The air began to grow cooler and thicker. Damp.
“Have you kidnapped me or something?”
“Something may be the proper term.”
“Do I need to change form and tear you apart to get some answers?” Mordred’s eyes turned dark and red, showing that he was allowing the change to the bear to start. He hoped that Marcus would recognize the likely outcome of this meeting and tell him what he needed to know.
Marcus’ paws were up, and he took a step back, his condescending grin leaving his hairy face. “Alright, my dear friend. Settle down. No more games.”
“Just answer me…..dear friend.” Mordred took a more aggressive stance, standing in front of his fellow were-human.
“You know the story of the Otherthrow of Heaven. The elves that decided to confront the gods in Heaven for more magical knowledge. What you likely don’t know is that the whole nasty business was actually started by the gods themselves.
Mordred’s head tipped back, as if he were looking up at the now-desecrated Heavenly realm. In fact, he was getting tired of being talked down to, told how ignorant he was. His patience, fine-tuned by years of dealing with Eldren on the road, took over. He nodded, indicating he was waiting for more.
“The gods convened and decided to give more magical knowledge and power to select elves. They knew they had great talent for it and it would be beneficial to all. But some of the gods said that humans should share in this. Despite their clumsiness with magic, they showed promise and a growing intellect, they said. Of course, the majority that sided with the elves said no, and the minority with a different opinion grew angry.” Marcus tried not to show his fear of Mordred’s threat at his claws as he walked around, again like a school teacher, giving his history lecture. Meantime, Mordred could hear voices, growing loud noises that sounded like they were coming from the other side of the clouds. For now, he listened to the class lesson. “That minority made a deal with some of the human sorcerers and wizards as well as some of the elves that deserved the extra gifts and knowledge.”
Wait. What? Mordred’s eyebrows shifted with questions.
“You may know of the story of the war with the elves that stormed the gates, using the blessed gifts to attempt the overthrow of Heaven and give the gods’ children their rightful inheritance.”
“Stop. Stop. What do you mean rightful….inheritance…”
Marcus stopped pacing and turned toward Mordred, his condescending smile returning. “Why, to take over for the gods. Their corruption is so obvious in their greed of the sacred gift of magic. Hoarding it as if it were a dragons’ treasure, letting it corrode and losing its holy luster.” Marcus said the last part of that sentence with a mournful gaze at Mordred. “Those gods owe us, Mordred. We are the rightful heirs of magic in all its glory and power. Us, Warren…” He approached Mordred/Warren carefully, but with a look in his dark animal eyes indicating something more than just fascination. Something scary. The atmosphere inside this thickening, damp and potentially dangerous place ramped up its intensity, obeying with perfect timing, Marcus’ passionate lecture that came from his black lips and pointed snout.
“What did you all do with Mordred, you magic freaks?!” Eldrens’ head snapped around at each of the armored riders as each of their weapons began to glow after his disappearance. They each began a chant of some kind. The ones whose faces showed had their eyes closed and mouths open to the one piece of the somber tone that made the air around them all feel electric and savage. The clouds that Mordred pointed his companion sword toward began to part and opened up the sky to the awaiting sun. And….a vision of a gate.
No one acknowledged the ranting goblin as he danced, waving his arms around to get….somebody’s attention. Until the Empress put a thin fingered, ringed hand on his silk shirt covered shoulder. “At ease, Eldren. I now know what’s going on.” She said to him calmly, firmly and with what looked and felt like Her old strength coming out again.
“NOW you know?!” Eldren shouted in hysterics. Looking up fearlessly at Her Majesty, “First you become a babbling comatose and I have to drag your Royal Ass around for your own safety…” he paused, collecting himself only for a few seconds and bowing… “I beg of your pardon, your Majesty….But have you completely lost your Imperial fucking mind??”
She smiled down at the stressed goblin, Mordred’s oldest and likely his only friend. His rage and blasphemy were understandable. She was glad none of her usual attending Nobles heard his words and attitude. He would have been locked in shackles and dragged kicking and screaming to the dungeon to be forgotten and starved even if She had protested and implored the guards for mercy. “No, I haven’t completely lost all of My Fucking Mind, dear one. Thank you for your compassion.” She said softly and with tension. She was a quick learner, finding out how to handle the goblins’ temperament in the short time they spent together. “I did lose my mind for a time, but I know what is going on. We, dear goblin, have been swindled. For many, many centuries now.” She turned Her head to face the chanting riders….and Her spirit teacher and guide as well as the sorcerers’ ghost that began joining in. Returning her gaze to the anxious goblin, She continued her caravan of thought. “I am certain that I know what has happened to our mutual friend, Mordred.” She pulled a particularly heavy-looking ring off of one of Her Hands, and examined it closely, looking it over as if for one stone or setting. “There it is.” Eldren looked around at the gathered crowd hoping to see one of the Palace’s legendary amatuer arena shows. The usually drunken, loud and obnoxious crowd showed a bizarre mix of lethargy and something like sleep-walking. Climbing over the boundaries, the walls meant to stop oncoming were-bulls and other “pure” animals, they staggered toward the chanting chaos, mumbling something.
“Oh, come on…” Eldren said before seeing the competitors begin hefting their weapons and banging them on their shields, crying out some unknown, annoying language. Just annoying enough to make Eldren cover his pointed ears.
“Relax, dear purple one. This will only take a moment.” the Empress said, adjusting what looked like a diamond, but the clear stone changed colors before it streamed light of the brightest intensity. Eldren covered his eyes and staggered.
“What the hell are you doing?! Your Majesty!”
“Kind of you to remember your manners. I think that Mordred is wearing off on you. There. Now you can remove your hand from your eyes.”
The intensity dimmed a bit. “Just don’t let him know that. He’s got an inflated ego as it is.” He looked around at the serene looking landscape around them. “Where are we now? I know this can’t be Heaven, my skin isn’t frying off my bones.”
“Not yet, anyway. You’re far from Heaven and I am inclined to agree with you.”
“What’s the deal with the rocks on that ring anyway? And…..remind me to negotiate with you should be interested in selling it with me for a decent commission on my part of course…” He flashed his sharp teeth, some still dirty from the mornings’ meal.
“For you. No deal.”
He had to hand it to Her Majesty. For a loony Royal, She knew how to deal with him. Took Mordred long enough. “So what now? Where are we? Is Mordred somewhere around?”
“Just a little further” She said, starting to walk in a direction, Eldren had no idea where. He shrugged and followed. She began. “You recall the Storming of Heaven or have you had more than your fair share of caravan-brewed ale?”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve recounted it to Mordred. He believes me like he should.”
“Well, his loss. First, the stories you’ve heard about it on your greedy travels are only slightly true.” She began to relate the deal made with the rebellious gods with the elves and then the greedy human magicians that led to the storming of the gates and the narrowing stream of magic in the present day. She answered the riddle of why Mordred/Warren acted like She was his wife. “I resemble many of the ruling Queens and Empresses of old. Mordred became a host body for Warren, the lead Knight of the Green Heart. He had been wedded to one of my great-great-great-great….something…grand-mammas and so Warren’s love for Her took over for a few moments. When I came out of the trance that the crowd and warriors are now under, I knew I had been betrayed by A’lai’tia. My guide and spiritual teacher for many years after my mother and father were killed by a Palace fire. Suddenly, She paused, stopping in her deliberate steps….
While they walked, the light that surrounded them began to dim and the ground under their feet, instead of being soft and easy to walk on, began to feel sharp and dangerous like thorns or sharp rocks.
“So just how did you snap out of that…whatever it was you called it…? Flirt with what remaining gods there are until they turned to mush under your wiles?”
“No, but that idea apparently has crossed your mind more than once. It just came to me. Don’t ask me to explain how or why and even who had anything to do with that. Of a sudden, I just became aware that I was in the arena witnessing…something and I saw you there and Mordred as well, so I decided to jump in and investigate. Simple.” She paused and shouted, “Mordred?!”, then scanned the area.
“No…dear Majesty…it did not cross my mind, thank you for your Royal Consideration”, Eldren said through gritted sharp yellowed teeth. He did join in the vocal search. “Boy!! Answer me right now when I’m yelling at you!!” After a few moments of dark silence, Eldren resumed his questions. “So how did Mordred get involved in all of this? Did this Warren character just pick some backwater, Deneoan Tribe boy for fun?”
“Your only friend and squire Mordred IS Warren, dear Eldren.”
“He’s….wait….what..”
“Oh, it’s obvious that he’s the only one in all of current existence that tolerates your foul habits, greed and ingratitude…and other things I’m probably not aware of yet…and continues to make money for you.”
“No. I mean. I mean, the Warren….thing” Eldren found himself sputtering words. Another first besides Mordred being able to silence him with a warning.”
“In ancient times, the records spoke of a word for it. ‘Reincarnation’, I believe it was. A belief that the soul of a being moved from a dead body to a newly born one and lived all over again.”
Eldren paused and looked up at the Empress with the side of Her Hand on Her Forehead, scanning around for signs of their target with no luck as of yet. He shook his head and continued his own scan. “Humans are crazy. You’ll never last.”
“What our priests and magicians have divined is that it’s not that simple. Life is all essence and can be moved from one being living at the current time to one in the future. All with the help of a shamanic sorcerer of course.
“Well, obviously! Of course!”
Holding back a sigh, She continued. “The Gates of Heaven were being stormed by the rebellious elves and human magicians, both aided by the gods that I mentioned before. The ones that were willing to share magic with them.”
“Alright. Now who are the Knights of the Green Heart?”
“We are guardians of those tasked with using the sacred tool of magic. The Green Heart.” came a mostly familiar voice. “And we have been corrupted!” The source of the ominous sounding words came from behind a masked helmet. A metal-gloved hand reached up and opened the viser up revealing Mordred under the green and black marked armor and shield. He stood over a were-fox, a flaming sword in Mordred’s other hand pointing down at its corpse. The blood had apparently burned away.
“Oh no, boy! What have you done?!”
Empress Marlina waved a hand in the goblin’s direction. “Warren, dear husband…what is this?” She said, softening her voice further, but making it clear that She demanded an answer from her…”husband”.
“I have had enough of deception in my ranks, my good Woman!” The obsidian swords’ fire went out as he sheathed it at his side. Warren clearly seemed to be in charge this time of Mordreds’ body and mind.
“My husband and Knight! Whatever do you…”
“Enough, I said! I know that I am not in my own history! Among any of my own people! And…” he looked down at his armored body, arms moving around, picking up one booted foot, examining himself over. “....and in my own noble form.. Dear gods, woman. Am I dead or not?!”
“Your noble form has been dead for many decades. It’s true, I am not your wife, but from what I can understand, I seem to bear a resemblance to her. I’m sorry if this fact strikes you a terrible blow…”
“No. No. I understand. I understand.” Warren/Mordred nodded with his head down and a sigh. “I sincerely hope that you never have to go through what I did, young Denoan.” He said to his host, thumping an armored glove on his breastplate. “Watching ones’ dear wife die in battle is a terror.”
“My condolences, Knight.” Eldren spoke up toward the appearance of his friend and then looked down at the were-fox laying at Warren/Mordreds’ feet. “Who was this?”
“This is an example of the betrayal and deception that I spoke of! He pretended to be a dear friend of this host while adopting his true form. One of the traitor gods.” Warren/Mordred spit down on the prone corpse.
“What? What do you mean?”
“I heard you telling Eldren about the traitors to the gods that helped bring about the overthrow of the heavenly gates. That is part of the story, true. The traitors paid a price for their part in all of this. They became the animals they loathed and experimented on at the beginning of the world. One part animal, one part human. Failed experiments, they called them.” Warren/Mordred shook his head again, recalling the former’s memories.
“Mordred can change from bear to human. Not always on cue, but does that mean he’s one of them?”
“No, goblin, no. After time, the ability to change from beast to human became a lost magical working. Part of the reason why Mordred can do that is the blast that sent him flying away from the slave-traders’ wagon. The mix of the oils the slavers were selling and the fire triggered it. An alchemical accident.”
“Part of? What’s the other part?”
“The rest….lies with me, dear Empress. I have had the ability to shift to animal form since I was born. My poor mother tried her best to keep up with a howling wolf cub that was actually her baby boy and explaining to guests why her son was outside howling at the moon instead of at school.”
“Wait. Wait.” Eldren’s eyebrows bobbed up and down, his mouth with sharp teeth gaped open and stayed that way for a time. “Are you saying that you’re….part..”
“Wolf, yes, dear goblin. Yes, were-wolf. Myself and my fellow Knights were born with the gift. It was a parting gift from the condemned gods who knew and grieved over their mistake. Most of us have enhanced strength and durability, others a keen insight and intellect with their particular animal form. However, some of us…” Warren/Mordred nudged with his boot, the body of his former friend and fellow Knight in another life. “...grew greedy with this gift and wished to finish the job that our divine benefactors failed to accomplish. That was why the Knights fell at the battle of….. That was an attempt to overthrow a King that sought to regain magic for humans’ use. Soldiers came from all over the Land to stop him. Of course, we were outnumbered, but we are sworn to defend to the end. We were slaughtered, but not until after a brutal battle. It was glorious.” This announcement was accompanied by a huge reminiscing smile. “Oh, and I am Mordred’s ancestor.” He flipped his visor closed and walked away from the stunned pair.
Before the questions could flow, the green, white and black armored Knight host raised his arms, gloved hands out. The air grew thick and a strong wind grew in force, almost knocking Eldren off his feet before the Empress caught him. Leaves, twigs, even a few small rocks blew around in a cyclone. Not enough to do any damage, just stinging the hapless witnesses. The armor on Warren/Mordred began to glow from the inside, the earth under their feet shook.
The explosion was quick and clean. No rocks, twigs, clouds, or anything from their small world was left. The crowd in the arena milled around, asking questions, disoriented, as did the fighters that were scheduled for matches today.
Armored Mordred simply collapsed from his standing position.
“At least he hit his head. He won’t damage anything valuable.” The Empress seriously considered capital punishment this one time before running to aid the fallen Denoan.