Sing For Avalon

Prologue

[Glastonbury, England, late May]

The gentle sounds of singing floated into the air of the mist enshrouded land of Glastonbury, England, welcoming the dawn as it slowly touched the realm with color. The creatures of nature joined in the singing, adding their own voices to the welcome of the sun as it appeared over the lake and land, tingeing the mists a gentle pink as it rose from its sleep and began a new day.

Slowly, the figure of a man appeared amidst the swirling fog, joining in the singing with his own baritone, praising the sun for bringing a new day as he walked towards the edge of the waters. His waist length raven hued hair hung down in an intricate braid as he walked, his emerald green and midnight blue robes swishing nearly silent in the grass as he moved towards the water's edge. His face was chiseled with sharp cheekbones and a full mouth and was graced with a strong nose that brought together his face's sharp contours. Great wisdom and strength could be seen within the defined features, but a touch of weariness could also be noted.. He came to the edge of the lake and gazed out over the near impenetrable haze with his piercing green eyes. He became motionless while singing softly before lifting his hands which were filled with but a hint of power as well as gentleness and creativity before bringing them down. He watched as the mists parted and a gold touched bridge of ground appeared before him, leading him towards the land that was guarded by the mists even unto this day.

With careful steps, he began his trek across the bridge, his voice strong with his song as he sang of the old days gone and the praises of a faith that had faltered into near non-existence. He walked along the island that was now before him, heading for the large hill that was at the near center of it. At the top he saw the familiar ring of ancient stones and his voice rose even more with his chant as he raised his hands high. He started up the rocky pathway after dropping his arms, his voice never waning as he steadily gained height on the land until he came to the top of the Tor.

Once there, his song softened, becoming loving as he strode forward to the center of the giant circle of stone columns that resembled Stonehenge. A pedestal with a large basin stood solemnly within the center as if awaiting him with secrets that would save or break all. He stopped at the edge of the sacred circle that surrounded the pedestal and began a different chant, an incantation for guidance as he called upon ancient deities that had slept for so long on the olden isle of Avalon.

He became suddenly silent as another figure appeared before him, glowing golden in the morning light as it approached him and the basin through the utter stillness that enshrouded them. He bowed his head silently as the figure stopped before him and gazed at him from within the light blue hood with pale blue eyes that told of many things. “You have appeared, Priestess of Avalon,” he murmured in respect as he straightened and returned her penetrating gaze.

Bowing her head, the Priestess smiled softly as she folded her hands over her stomach. “As have you, Taliesin, last of the Merlin,” she replied quietly and her eyes shone with amusement as she looked back up at him. She drew back her hood, revealing black hair that was touched with the fire of red in the highlights and an unlined face that was adorned by a blue crescent moon on her forehead.

“Last and only, I fear. You have seen the visions?” Taliesin asked as he nodded towards the pedestal and sighed as she nodded in acknowledgement before she turned to pace slowly to its side. “The Pendragon must be reborn, for Avalon had not been strong enough to sustain him in his despair. How do we choose the one who will bear him?” he inquired as he followed her to the basin.

Reaching into the basin to touch the still waters within, the Priestess focused on the rippling surface. “You will be the bearer of the seed, last of the Merlin, for you too bear the blood of the great Kings of Britannia." She looked up slowly at Taliesin and noted his shock at his own part of the prophesy. "Your strength and guidance will become necessary in her protection, for the darkness that is on the edge of the world has also foreseen the rebirth of the One King,” she murmured firmly, her voice sounding unearthly as she looked into the future. “The one chosen shall come to us, beckoned by the song of Avalon. You will know what to do.” She smiled wryly as he blinked and flushed slightly.

Bowing his head in acceptance, Taliesin clasped his hands before him. “As the Goddess proclaims, so shall I fulfill her wishes,” he whispered softly before feeling her hands on his face.

“Beon wæccende, Taliesin. Seo Sceadu sie weard*,” the Priestess murmured in warning as she traced his face tenderly. Her eyes searched his features and eyes before she nodded in acceptance of something, though he knew not what. Her hands came down then and were hidden within the sleeves of her pale iridescent robe as she turned and walked away, heading into the sunlight where she disappeared.

Taliesin watched her leave somberly, her words echoing within his head as he looked over at the basin. He laced his fingers and bowed deeply to it before turning and going to his sanctuary. He would need to prepare for the future that was to come.

*Translation of Old English: Be watchful, Taliesin. The Shadows are watching.

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