Seeking Truths
Chapter One
Work-in-progress, subject to change
! - warning: mild spoilers
Until a few hours ago, the leather cord around my neck had belonged to the time-traveling demon hunter, Alexander Ramsey, who’d left me - presumably forever - after we’d vanquished an incubus back to the demonic plane from the small town I live in on the coast of North Carolina’s Outer Banks. Against all the rules and restrictions of his time-traveling order, we had grown very close. Close enough that the parting was heart-wrenching. I had to presume that it was because of that closeness that the amulet attached to that leather cord, Alex’s “Tempus Purus”, had materialized to me weeks after he’d gone.
I could still feel a trace of its sentient presence in the back of my mind, but it seemed to be only waiting and watching now. When it first appeared it had bombarded my consciousness with a jumble of images and impressions of Alex in danger, and it had brought me here, to a converted manor house next to a fragrant apple grove on what I was assured was truly a storied isle of myth and legend.
“Avalon”, Morgaine had called this place. Standing before me now, the venerable Lady of Avalon, with the exception of her regal bearing and the woad crescent tattooed between her brows, looked nothing like the legend, and everything like a modern business woman. Her colleague, Brother Rhys, still fuming about my unexpected arrival and refusal to quietly go away, had left to call a meeting of the council of the Tempus Scolarium.
I stared at the design carved on the front of the building above the door. Like the symbol on the amulet I wore, it was a triskele with a triquetra within its center. Unlike the amulet, the arms of the triskele ended in simple spirals. I peered down at the carved stone around my neck. Its arms ended in graceful acanthus leaf curves.
Morgaine noticed my confusion. “The design is slightly different for all of us.” She held up her own Tempus Purus. The arms of her triskele curved into a design reminiscent of the branches of the apple trees surrounding us, with fruits at the ends of the boughs. “When we first discovered the amulets, all of them had a design like the one you see there.” She pointed to the building. “But, we found that once they bound themselves to each of us, the design changed. Something that always seems to suit the person it is attuned to.” As I let go of the amulet, I felt the tickle as it dematerialized into me, leaving only the outline of the design on my skin like a raised tattoo. I wondered if I’d ever get used to that sensation.
I turned away from the door and looked around the immediate grounds. There were a few smaller buildings nearby, and paths leading off into the lush greenery surrounding the area and into dense, hilly forests. A tor rose above the trees, probably a half a mile or so away, near the center of the isle. Beyond that, nothing was visible. A thick mist surrounded the entire island. Despite that, it was bright, as if the mists parted above us just for the sun and moon to shine their light upon the isle.
“Is the mist always there?” I asked.
“Yes. Never above, but always around.”
“What if I were to walk in a straight line toward the mist? Where would I go?”
The Lady of Avalon chuckled. “You’d end up right back here. Eventually. The mists protect us, and there is no way off the isle by walking into them. No matter how many times you try, you would always end up where you started. The mists would always bring you home.”
“This isn’t my home,” I said, and instantly regretted my tone. Whatever was happening wasn’t the fault of
Morgaine, or this isle. I turned to her, about to apologize, but she silenced me with a gesture.
“No, it isn’t. But, you are its guest for now, and it will protect you as one of its own.” She gave me an understanding smile. “When did you know you loved him?”
I thought back on the events of the previous couple of months. A crisis meant the two of us had to perform a ritual to replace a destroyed fetish, a carving of a magical creature, that was instrumental to the success of the banishment of the demon. It required sex magic, and despite our having only met weeks before, it was astonishingly natural, and highly successful. The fetish Alex had recreated during the ritual seemed to bond with both of us and had not only performed its intended duty, but lent extra potency to my magic when I feared I would be too weak to trap the demon we needed to banish. The experience had been extraordinary. I nearly stumbled over some of the words, so impassioned was I during the ritual. It was obvious to me then that Alex had captured my heart, but on further reflection, there was always something between us.
“When he first walked through the door,” I said, “our eyes locked and there was an instant connection. I think I denied it for a long time, though.” I bit back the emotion that rose within me. “Maybe too long.”
Morgaine reached out and pushed my hair back from my face, her hand lingering as she brushed a tear away before it could finish its journey down my cheek. “I’m sorry, dearest,” she said. “I suspect you probably already know it, at least in your heart, but he loves you, too.”
I was grateful that she used the present tense. Brother Rhys was all too ready to strike Alex off as already dead, but I refused to believe it. “He never said, but I felt it. In his touch, in the way he looked at me.” And, when the amulet came to me, its sentience connected with me somehow and allowed me to know Alex’s final thoughts before he had to leave me. “I will never stop trying to come back. I love you.” We’d not brought ourselves to saying the words aloud to each other, both knowing that we’d likely never see each other again, and perhaps thinking it was a burden the other didn’t deserve.
She nodded. “I suspected, when he returned, that you had stolen his heart.” She placed a hand on my shoulder. “I promise you, whatever the council decides, I will do everything in my power to help you bring him back.”
The door opened. “Morgaine,” Brother Rhys called.
“Yes?” Morgaine and I said in unison, both turning to him.
He rolled his eyes, and huffed in frustration. “Something must be done to tell the two of you apart. You can’t both be Morgaine.”
“You can call me Mora,” I said. “It’s my friend’s nickname for me.”
Brother Rhys gave a single brisk nod. “Morgaine,” he said again, pointedly addressing my hostess, “the council will meet two hours hence.”
***
Two hours later, Morgaine led me into a reception room within the same building as her study. A banquet table in the middle of the room was laden with fruits, cheeses, sweetmeats, and baked goods, and glass pitchers of water and another liquid with a rich honey color which I guessed to be a fruit juice of some sort. There were ten others milling about, talking in hushed tones. The walls were paneled, lending a warmth to the room, and as I looked around, I noticed they were covered in portraits. Morgaine was there, as were the others in the room. Brother Rhys stared disdainfully down from his portrait beside Morgaine’s. The man himself stood across the room, his back to us, in conversation with a man whose portrait was on the other side of Morgaine’s. Other paintings were of men and women who were not in the room with us, and as my gaze fell to my right, a familiar face gazed back at me. The portrait of Alex was so life-like, I felt I could have reached out and taken his hand. His dark, shoulder-length hair was loose, the way I’d come to prefer it, and the artist had done an amazing job of capturing his beautiful, flashing blue eyes. Despite the casualness of his hairstyle, he wore his Victorian Royal Navy dress uniform with a bearing that made him look like a prince, and there was even a ceremonial sword at his waist.
“Many of those you see are occupied with duties elsewhere on the isle. Others, like Alex, are away on missions involving the breach of the demonic gate wards. Those present,” she nodded toward the others in the room, “are members of the council.”
My eyes traveled back around the room again, taking in those around us. There were seven women, not including myself, and four men. The man in conversation with Brother Rhys was looking our way. He caught my eye and gave me a kind smile. He was dressed similarly to Brother Rhys in dark slacks and black shirt, but lacked the cleric’s collar.
Morgaine leaned in and whispered, “That is Tal. He acts as head of the council, although we don’t really have a strict hierarchy.”
“Tal…Taliesin?” Was I about to meet another legend, I wondered.
She smiled. “I see you’ve read your Arthurian legends. Yes, that is the Welsh bard Taliesin, although we just call him Tal.” I thought back to some accounts I’d read that had Morgaine and Taliesin as lovers.
Morgaine must have read my mind. “And, yes, we have been lovers.” She squared her shoulders as Brother Rhys noticed us. “I’ll tell you all about it later.” She winked and then linked her arm in mine as Brother Rhys stalked toward us.
“She can’t be here,” he said, shortly.
“This meeting concerns her, Rhys. She has every right to be here.” Morgaine’s tone suggested she would brook no argument. Luckily, she didn’t have to. Tal had followed Brother Rhys.
“I agree, Rhys,” he said, bright hazel eyes beneath a fringe of milk chocolate brown hair lighting on me briefly before he turned his attention back to Brother Rhys. “We can’t expect to decide the lady’s fate without her input. Or that of the amulet’s - I understand it does not wish to be parted from her.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement and at the same time, I felt a tingle as if the amulet at my breast were voicing its agreement. It seems word of the incident had got around. When Brother Rhys had tried to take the amulet earlier, it reacted by inflicting a loud noise and a sharp pain behind the eyes to all in the room, ending only when Brother Rhys had stepped away.
Brother Rhys said nothing, merely darting an irritated glance at me and heaving a snappish sigh before turning to walk away. I felt certain that if he would have opened his mouth to speak, he would have uttered a peevish “What - ever”. That thought nearly made me giggle, and served to slightly ease the bundle of tension knotted in my belly. As we made our way across the room toward the open double doors leading into the meeting room, Tal paused and poured a glass of the amber liquid. “I do hope you’ll try this, Mora,” he said, offering me the glass. “It will fortify you and,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “calm your nerves.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the glass and returning his smile. I glanced at Morgaine as we proceeded into the meeting room. With a small smile and a bow of her head, she assured me that I had at least two friends amongst the board members.
I could still feel a trace of its sentient presence in the back of my mind, but it seemed to be only waiting and watching now. When it first appeared it had bombarded my consciousness with a jumble of images and impressions of Alex in danger, and it had brought me here, to a converted manor house next to a fragrant apple grove on what I was assured was truly a storied isle of myth and legend.
“Avalon”, Morgaine had called this place. Standing before me now, the venerable Lady of Avalon, with the exception of her regal bearing and the woad crescent tattooed between her brows, looked nothing like the legend, and everything like a modern business woman. Her colleague, Brother Rhys, still fuming about my unexpected arrival and refusal to quietly go away, had left to call a meeting of the council of the Tempus Scolarium.
I stared at the design carved on the front of the building above the door. Like the symbol on the amulet I wore, it was a triskele with a triquetra within its center. Unlike the amulet, the arms of the triskele ended in simple spirals. I peered down at the carved stone around my neck. Its arms ended in graceful acanthus leaf curves.
Morgaine noticed my confusion. “The design is slightly different for all of us.” She held up her own Tempus Purus. The arms of her triskele curved into a design reminiscent of the branches of the apple trees surrounding us, with fruits at the ends of the boughs. “When we first discovered the amulets, all of them had a design like the one you see there.” She pointed to the building. “But, we found that once they bound themselves to each of us, the design changed. Something that always seems to suit the person it is attuned to.” As I let go of the amulet, I felt the tickle as it dematerialized into me, leaving only the outline of the design on my skin like a raised tattoo. I wondered if I’d ever get used to that sensation.
I turned away from the door and looked around the immediate grounds. There were a few smaller buildings nearby, and paths leading off into the lush greenery surrounding the area and into dense, hilly forests. A tor rose above the trees, probably a half a mile or so away, near the center of the isle. Beyond that, nothing was visible. A thick mist surrounded the entire island. Despite that, it was bright, as if the mists parted above us just for the sun and moon to shine their light upon the isle.
“Is the mist always there?” I asked.
“Yes. Never above, but always around.”
“What if I were to walk in a straight line toward the mist? Where would I go?”
The Lady of Avalon chuckled. “You’d end up right back here. Eventually. The mists protect us, and there is no way off the isle by walking into them. No matter how many times you try, you would always end up where you started. The mists would always bring you home.”
“This isn’t my home,” I said, and instantly regretted my tone. Whatever was happening wasn’t the fault of
Morgaine, or this isle. I turned to her, about to apologize, but she silenced me with a gesture.
“No, it isn’t. But, you are its guest for now, and it will protect you as one of its own.” She gave me an understanding smile. “When did you know you loved him?”
I thought back on the events of the previous couple of months. A crisis meant the two of us had to perform a ritual to replace a destroyed fetish, a carving of a magical creature, that was instrumental to the success of the banishment of the demon. It required sex magic, and despite our having only met weeks before, it was astonishingly natural, and highly successful. The fetish Alex had recreated during the ritual seemed to bond with both of us and had not only performed its intended duty, but lent extra potency to my magic when I feared I would be too weak to trap the demon we needed to banish. The experience had been extraordinary. I nearly stumbled over some of the words, so impassioned was I during the ritual. It was obvious to me then that Alex had captured my heart, but on further reflection, there was always something between us.
“When he first walked through the door,” I said, “our eyes locked and there was an instant connection. I think I denied it for a long time, though.” I bit back the emotion that rose within me. “Maybe too long.”
Morgaine reached out and pushed my hair back from my face, her hand lingering as she brushed a tear away before it could finish its journey down my cheek. “I’m sorry, dearest,” she said. “I suspect you probably already know it, at least in your heart, but he loves you, too.”
I was grateful that she used the present tense. Brother Rhys was all too ready to strike Alex off as already dead, but I refused to believe it. “He never said, but I felt it. In his touch, in the way he looked at me.” And, when the amulet came to me, its sentience connected with me somehow and allowed me to know Alex’s final thoughts before he had to leave me. “I will never stop trying to come back. I love you.” We’d not brought ourselves to saying the words aloud to each other, both knowing that we’d likely never see each other again, and perhaps thinking it was a burden the other didn’t deserve.
She nodded. “I suspected, when he returned, that you had stolen his heart.” She placed a hand on my shoulder. “I promise you, whatever the council decides, I will do everything in my power to help you bring him back.”
The door opened. “Morgaine,” Brother Rhys called.
“Yes?” Morgaine and I said in unison, both turning to him.
He rolled his eyes, and huffed in frustration. “Something must be done to tell the two of you apart. You can’t both be Morgaine.”
“You can call me Mora,” I said. “It’s my friend’s nickname for me.”
Brother Rhys gave a single brisk nod. “Morgaine,” he said again, pointedly addressing my hostess, “the council will meet two hours hence.”
***
Two hours later, Morgaine led me into a reception room within the same building as her study. A banquet table in the middle of the room was laden with fruits, cheeses, sweetmeats, and baked goods, and glass pitchers of water and another liquid with a rich honey color which I guessed to be a fruit juice of some sort. There were ten others milling about, talking in hushed tones. The walls were paneled, lending a warmth to the room, and as I looked around, I noticed they were covered in portraits. Morgaine was there, as were the others in the room. Brother Rhys stared disdainfully down from his portrait beside Morgaine’s. The man himself stood across the room, his back to us, in conversation with a man whose portrait was on the other side of Morgaine’s. Other paintings were of men and women who were not in the room with us, and as my gaze fell to my right, a familiar face gazed back at me. The portrait of Alex was so life-like, I felt I could have reached out and taken his hand. His dark, shoulder-length hair was loose, the way I’d come to prefer it, and the artist had done an amazing job of capturing his beautiful, flashing blue eyes. Despite the casualness of his hairstyle, he wore his Victorian Royal Navy dress uniform with a bearing that made him look like a prince, and there was even a ceremonial sword at his waist.
“Many of those you see are occupied with duties elsewhere on the isle. Others, like Alex, are away on missions involving the breach of the demonic gate wards. Those present,” she nodded toward the others in the room, “are members of the council.”
My eyes traveled back around the room again, taking in those around us. There were seven women, not including myself, and four men. The man in conversation with Brother Rhys was looking our way. He caught my eye and gave me a kind smile. He was dressed similarly to Brother Rhys in dark slacks and black shirt, but lacked the cleric’s collar.
Morgaine leaned in and whispered, “That is Tal. He acts as head of the council, although we don’t really have a strict hierarchy.”
“Tal…Taliesin?” Was I about to meet another legend, I wondered.
She smiled. “I see you’ve read your Arthurian legends. Yes, that is the Welsh bard Taliesin, although we just call him Tal.” I thought back to some accounts I’d read that had Morgaine and Taliesin as lovers.
Morgaine must have read my mind. “And, yes, we have been lovers.” She squared her shoulders as Brother Rhys noticed us. “I’ll tell you all about it later.” She winked and then linked her arm in mine as Brother Rhys stalked toward us.
“She can’t be here,” he said, shortly.
“This meeting concerns her, Rhys. She has every right to be here.” Morgaine’s tone suggested she would brook no argument. Luckily, she didn’t have to. Tal had followed Brother Rhys.
“I agree, Rhys,” he said, bright hazel eyes beneath a fringe of milk chocolate brown hair lighting on me briefly before he turned his attention back to Brother Rhys. “We can’t expect to decide the lady’s fate without her input. Or that of the amulet’s - I understand it does not wish to be parted from her.” The corner of his mouth quirked up in amusement and at the same time, I felt a tingle as if the amulet at my breast were voicing its agreement. It seems word of the incident had got around. When Brother Rhys had tried to take the amulet earlier, it reacted by inflicting a loud noise and a sharp pain behind the eyes to all in the room, ending only when Brother Rhys had stepped away.
Brother Rhys said nothing, merely darting an irritated glance at me and heaving a snappish sigh before turning to walk away. I felt certain that if he would have opened his mouth to speak, he would have uttered a peevish “What - ever”. That thought nearly made me giggle, and served to slightly ease the bundle of tension knotted in my belly. As we made our way across the room toward the open double doors leading into the meeting room, Tal paused and poured a glass of the amber liquid. “I do hope you’ll try this, Mora,” he said, offering me the glass. “It will fortify you and,” he leaned in conspiratorially, “calm your nerves.”
“Thank you,” I said, taking the glass and returning his smile. I glanced at Morgaine as we proceeded into the meeting room. With a small smile and a bow of her head, she assured me that I had at least two friends amongst the board members.