Between The Mists

For longer then I can remember, my mother has told me never to reveal my birthright, nor place. It is true that you can never find your way home again, at least in my world. I’ve given years of my life to the thought that I can’t go home again. My world is forever lost within the deepest mists in all of history.

I suppose you’ve heard the fictionary stories of Avalon and Camelot. How Arthur stood beneath the Pendragon banner throughout his reign as King of all England. How his beloved Gwenhwyfar gave her life to him, but her heart to his dearest friend. I can testify to all of this. For Camelot and Avalon are in my blood, my mother as hers before her, have shared this extraordinary tie to the past.

My name is Sadie le Fay, and I live here, on the Isle of Avalon. My mother is the Lady of the Lake, as I shall be after her passing. I share not with you the past years of humility and longing for my home, but I share with you the future that none can contest. This is my life, as I lived, even a century or two ago.

Moonlight danced across the stone flagged floors of the House of Maidens as she roused herself from slumber. Dawn hadn’t yet approached, and yet she was restless. Something was going on. Without a word, she dressed, careful not to wake the sleeping girls around her. Marie, a sweet girl, barely ten, slept soundly in the bed they shared. She was from America; Sadie’s mother had found her while visiting her sister.

Creeping from the room, Sadie tugged on her gown, uncomfortable with how short it was becoming. Soon she would outgrow the maiden gowns, and be forced to wear the robes of the High Priestess. The pathway up the hillside had yet to wear down in the millennia of use it had absorbed. Atop the hill, looking out at the lake sat the Lady’s house, a single light on like an eye peering out over the night.

Sometimes, on the summer solstice in Avalon, you could see the light from the shores, like an owls eyes, peering out at the souls of the mortal world. Yet, walking across the lake, you would find nothing there but little homes and maybe a business or two. Take a boat into the lake, and you would find nothing but mists and water. Sometimes, though, the true of heart, those that still held faith in the Old Ways, would catch a glimpse of a Priestess fishing, singing, or perhaps praying. Once, Sadie had come face to face with a child who could see her. The wee girl asked if she might know how to get to Glastonbury, Isle of the priests. Sadie nodded, turned the girl on her way, and disappeared into the mists.

Long ago had Sadie learned to live with priests. Her mother, Lady of the Lake, was always telling her to mind her words of their One God, for all Gods were one God, and all Goddesses one Goddess, and there was only one Initiator. And to every man his own truth, and the God within. Almost four hundred years had passed in the outside world since Sadie had been born to her mother. Though barely sixteen, Sadie had watched England become something less than extraordinary.

Stepping to the doorway, Sadie raised her hand to knock, then changed her mind and began to lower it. “Come in, child,” came the voice from within. Without needing to ask how the Lady had known she stood there, Sadie pushed open the door and stepped within. “What brings you here at this hour?” the woman asked from the fireside.

“I felt unrest,” Sadie whispered, always without breath in the home of the Lady.

The dark crown of hair turned, the dark lips formed a smile, and the firelight flickered across the skin. Sadie was dark-haired like her mother, but blue eyed like her father. “You did right, my dearest,” the Lady replied, motioning to the floor before her. “Come, sit near,” the woman finished.

Approaching, Sadie noted that the lady was not wearing the glamour of Avalon about her; she looked but a simple old woman aloft in a chair far too large for her. Yet, the Lady was beautiful beyond Sadie’s belief. Sadie slid to the floor before the Lady, and rested her head against her knees, sighing with content.

“What is happening, dearest Mother?” Sadie whispered. The Lady had only bore two children in her years, though far older then she should have been. The first, Gwydion, had been born when the Lady was barely twenty-five, and she, Sadie, had been born after the world had thought the Lady could have no more children.

The Lady’s eyes darkened, and she glanced to the fire. Softly, she spoke, with a voice that was never quite loud, yet rang true enough to fill the room, “We have experienced a great injustice in the outside world, dear heart.” Sadie neither moved, nor spoke, for she knew her mother was not yet done. “The last of the hazel groves is threatened, and I have no one to send thither.”

Heart in her throat, Sadie’s eyes rose to her mother. “Send me,” she whispered. “Allow me to save the grove, as I should…”

“Your father would not like it,” the Lady responded. “He wishes you to remain in Avalon, as far from the place England has become. I shall most likely send Nimue.”

An exasperated sigh escaped Sadie’s lips as she rested her head upon her mother’s knees. “Then at least speak to Father about allowing me to visit his England, travel to the opposite side of the Lake. I grow weary of this place; I wish to see my brother… Let me visit Father…” Sadie pleaded, closing her eyes against the light stealing in the easterly windows.

A smile played across the Lady’s lips as she responded in the motherly voice that only Sadie heard, “I shall speak with him on my trip to the Sacred Well this morning.” Without another word, Sadie rose to her feet and bowed to excuse herself. On to her duties as a priestess.

Alone atop the Tor, Sadie watched the mists part and the barge of Avalon drift though. The form on the bow was shrouded in a cloak befitting the Merlin of Britain. Since the day that the mists had closed on Avalon, the Lady had called the power of the Goddess to reverse time, save the world from the wrath of the Christian’s One God. She had been granted her wish, washing back the tables of time to before the High Queen had caused King Arthur to lay aside the banner of Avalon.

Sadie’s kinswoman, Viviane, the same Lady of the Lake that had placed Arthur on the throne, had lived on past the date of her once death. Now, dead, but well remembered, and buried on Avalon, instead of Glastonbury.

The barge bumped silently onto the shores of Avalon, and Sadie watched as the Lady greeted the Merlin. Both forms walked along the path towards the Lady’s personal dwelling. But the Lady paused for only a moment, to speak to one of the young maidens. She pointed up to the Tor, where Sadie stood erect. Slowly the maiden began to make her way up the rocky incline to meet Sadie.

“The Lady wishes you to join her in her dwelling as soon as you are able, sister,” the young girl, called Marisa, said softly. She was barely nine years of age, her life sworn to the Goddess forever. Sadie nodded softly, her father had come, and she was to greet him.

She made herself ready; adjusting the necklace he’d given her on the day she’d been sworn a priestess. A small crescent shaped moon, downcast like the one painted on her forehead. The ink on the tattoo was wearing off, so she refreshed it, and went on her way.

Within the dwelling, The Lady sat in her chair, the Merlin beside her. His grotesque form did not make Sadie squeamish, nor wish her away. She found it strangely comforting to know that this was her father, the man that begot her with the most stunning of all the Priestess Born.

“Dearest Sadie,” the Merlin spoke, while offering his arms out to her. Sadie rushed into them as a girl to her father, not a priestess to the Merlin. “Your mother tells me that you wish to visit England..." he continued, his melodious voice soft in her ears. When Sadie nodded, the Merlin smiled, and stroked hair from her face. “I see not why you cannot come to Camelot with me. Our King would love nothing more then to lay eyes upon his niece,” her father responded, kissing her forehead gently with all the tenderness that she had grown accustomed too.

Only now did the Lady speak. “Kevin, my beloved,” she replied, again with the quiet voice that rang true, “Tell me of my brother. Has Gwenhwyfar bared him no children?”

Sadness burst forth from Kevin Harper’s eyes as he shook his head. Settling herself at her father’s feet, Sadie leaned her head against his gnarled knee. “Sadly, Morgan, my darling,” Kevin said, using the name given to her by the fairy folk, “Gwenhwyfar hasn’t borne a child of yet. So it seems that Gwydion is next in line. How I wish Arthur could acknowledge him as his son. Though being of your blood is near enough of lineage. Be glad we have borne him here in Avalon, instead of being at Lothian.” Morgan le Fay nodded and gently brushed her fingers across the crescent moon atop her forehead in a gesture of prayer. “Arthur will be glad to see his kin,” Kevin continued, brushing Sadie’s dark hair away, “We shall sail tomorrow, if my daughter would be so kind as to drop the mists for me...” Sadie nodded willingly, smiling up at her beloved father.

The following day, as she dropped the mists, Sadie stood perfectly still. She hadn’t set foot outside of Avalon since she was but a child, and then it was only for a fortnight. She and her brother, Gwydion, had traveled the Roman roads to visit their Aunt Morgause in Lothian. Sadie had been the one to see the dark stains on Morgause’s soul. Sadie warned her mother using the Sight, and suddenly, Raven came to fetch them. Only months later, Morgause died trying to use her charms against Lancelet, trying to get him to betray his King.

Now, as the girl sat astride the gray dappled horse of Avalon, her father beside her on his mount, she felt the strangest mixture of trepidation and merriment to befall her. They moved at a steady pace, though Kevin had never been one for horseback riding. Spells and enchantments kept him from feeling pain, so as long as Sadie rode by his side he rode with as much ease as she.

Within a simple four-day journey, they had arrived in the yard of Camelot. The gates loomed before them, tall wooden columns of fortification. As they opened slowly, Kevin held out his hand to steady himself against his daughter. The trek had been hard for him; he was not as young as he once was. For once, Sadie was truly happy that they could slip back through the mists of time to see the world as it once was. While in Avalon four hundred years had passed, they could still cross over through the mists and be greeted by Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.

Sadie did not wait for a young page to come to help her from her horse, but leapt off rather roguishly and moved to help Kevin from his steed. The man smiled down at her, just as strong hands appeared in her view. She turned to see the familiar face of her beloved kinsman standing above her.

As Kevin was safely to the ground, Sadie turned her attention wholly to her kinsman. “Lance,” she said, calmly allowing him to take her hand and kiss it. “A pleasure to see you here, I thought for sure Uncle Arthur would have you off slaying another dragon,” Sadie whispered, smiling the same smile as Morgan.

“Now, Galahad,” came a booming voice from behind her. “Do you try to steal a girl’s admiration from her King?”

Lancelet bowed his head in respect, and Sadie’s eyes widened. “With good reason, my lord,” Lancelet responded, a smile upon his face. “I was first to hold this dear child in my arms, and give her the name she bears on her now…” Turning, Sadie found herself staring into the dancing eyes of her visions. “My King,” Lancelet continued, “I give you Sadie le Fay, of Avalon, daughter of Morgaine of Cornwall.”

Arthur’s eyes lightened with true jubilation, and his arms opened to her. He embraced her willingly, “Why, dear girl, I held you when you were but a babe! How you’ve grown!” he laughed.

“Sixteen years will do that,” Sadie jested, comfortable in the warmth of his arms.

As she moved to embrace Gwenhwyfar, Arthur laughed heartily, “And with her mother’s wit!” The woman that embraced her was as far from Morgan as Sadie could’ve believed possible. Tales of the Queen’s beauty reached even to Avalon, but Sadie saw not how this light colored angel could be more stunning then her own fairy-like mother. “Tell me, Lord Merlin,” Arthur was saying as they moved up the stairs of Camelot. “Why has not my sister come hither?”

Kevin’s gait was not at all easy, and he leaned against Arthur. Quickly, Sadie excused herself from the High Queen and moved to assist her beloved father. “Morgan wished to join us, but her duties have led her again to the Tor of Avalon to fast in the name of the Goddess,” Kevin muttered through labored breath.

“Amazing how she lives,” Gwenhwyfar said, from beside Sadie, “With all the fasting she does.”

Now, Sadie spoke, through softly, “With so many of her Priestess in silence, she needs as many of those with the Sight to help her to draw Avalon from the mists.”

Confusion clouded Arthur’s eyes as they stepped within the castle doors. “I do not understand this at all. With so much of England now changed over to the Old Ways, should not Avalon be returning from the mists?” he asked softly, careful not to shake Kevin overly much. “Good Druid, need you anything? Wine, bread, perhaps some fine cakes?” Kevin but shook his head.

“Nonsense, Father,” Sadie reprimanded, shaking her head in disgust. “You have not eaten since dawn. It is near time for you to break your fast!” She leaned over to glance to Arthur. “My King,” she said calmly, her voice the same as Morgan’s, quiet yet powerful, “Is there a chance to get my father some bread, cheese and wine sent to his room?” Arthur nodded and waved away one of his own servants. “If you would be so kind as to appoint a servant to assist us to my father’s quarters, I would be happy to help them with whatever they need to fetch him a warm bath and clean garments.”

A smile crossed over Arthur’s features, and the young King spoke, ever so kindly, “I will assist you, dear niece. Need you never ask for anything other then the best!”

Gwenhwyfar nodded and let go of Sadie’s arm, saying, “Dear Sadie, if you wish to join me in my quarters while the manservant deals with your father, ask anyone where they be, and you will be led there directly.” Sadie nodded, unsure if the Queen knew how pompous she sounded.

“I like her not, Father,” Sadie whispered as she helped Kevin from his outer robe of scarlet. The manservant stood to the side with a tub of boiling water. Kevin nodded in understanding. “Does Arthur not see that she hates the Old Ways?” Sadie continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

In all his life Kevin had known two women to be unafraid of the scarred and broken body he’d endured since his childhood accident. They were simply Morgan le Fay, and his beloved daughter, Sadie le Fay. Morgan had been the first woman to ever offer herself to him in love, and Sadie had been the first, and possibly only, born of his flesh. And now, that seemed enough. His lover was Lady of the Lake, and his daughter next to the throne. He’d loved Gwydion as a son, and he too seemed destined to do great things.

Now, even as Sadie turned her back in modesty as her father stripped off his under garments, he knew it was not in disgust, nor pity. She loved him as no other would, just as Morgan had as well, in her own way. “Father, mind you if I go to the Queen? I trust the manservant will care well for you…” The light splash of the water turned her to face him, his gnarled, twisted body heavy in the iron tub.

“Go, my dearest,” Kevin responded, smiling up at her. “But do not go thither without a kiss for a misshapen old man.”

A sincere smile spread across Sadie’s lips as she replied, “You are neither old, nor misshapen in my eyes. But instead I see a beloved father that I would very much love to kiss farewell.” With that she leaned forward and kissed his forehead in the way of Avalon. When she pulled away, Kevin was beaming up at her. “I shall see you soon, dearest Father… Rest your bones, and mind your manners…” She turned happily to the servant awaiting her leave. “Take none of his complaints to heart, and bear word to me if he starts behaving as a child…” She flashed a smile back over her shoulder at the scowl Kevin shot at her.