In Pan Post 78 the Knights of Camelot are visiting the planet Uranus where Morganna le Fay has conjured up the remaining remnant of her beloved Avalon atop one of the aether processors. There she is met by Sir Caelia and they gossip about the parenthood of Sir Galahad with Morgan initially suggesting that it might be Queen Guinevere but later retracting her claim. Inside Sir Galahad himself is being shown around by the fayrie Nerifan when they get the message to leave Uranus and head for Neptune. Before he leaves, given some encouragement by his father, Sir Lancelot, Sir Galahad approaches Admiral Ltexi and manages to introduce himself, albeit extravagantly. Meanwhile King Arthur is shown to the Dream Gate by the Fayrie King. The Fayrie King reveals that upon entering they will become astral constructs and cease to exist physically. Not taking the king's word of safety The Black Knight volunteers to go first. When she successfully returns, they all travel into the gate.


Space Camelot: Dream Space Pt I

Characters: King Arthur | Queen Guinevere | Prince Mordred | Morganna le Fay | Merlin the Younger | Sir Kay | Sir Lancelot | Sir Bedivere | Sir Galahad | Sir Tristram | Sir Caelia | Sir Red Rose Knight | Sir Black Knight | Sir Faerie Knight | Andy | Admiral Ltexi | Gamma Pans | Nerifian | Fayrie King | Monde

The gigantic processors are bigger than any building the humans have seen (then again they've never seen the Empire State Building) or even dreamt of. Each processor has a wide flat top that is then surrounded by four, fat funnels that reach up high into the atmosphere to soak in the aether up there. Upon one of the processors appears to be a wild and vibrant garden.

Quite unlike anything else on Uranus, the garden appears much like a garden of Eden conceived by the mind of a human, not a Uranus-bound fayrie. Tall trees blooming with assorted flowers of pink and blue, seeming to glow their hue with a magical aura, and shrubbery that would make even the Knights of Ni[Ext 1] happy. A small path runs through the mini-woodland, but it's little more than well-trodden soil that has been walked by the woodland's inhabitants.

Or rather it was all of this. Now it is nothing but a sample of what once was. A remnant of Avalon, saved by Morganna le Fay. Her island home, created from her very being and, now, lost forever. For her brother's mad quest. She had believed, in some small way, it would be worth it. But, standing in her magical projection she can't help but question the decision to aid him in his ambition. She isn't blinded by her love. She's well aware of his short-comings, but she is also well-aware that she can't help but love the man. Even when unrequited. It's too late now, however. All she can do is come here and lament the loss whenever she is alone.

Lament... and plot.

Sir Caelia: "So this is what you do every time you go skulking away..."

Morganna's attention snaps to the sudden arrival of the faerie woman. Her shock subsides quickly and she just sighs as she nods, conceding the point.

Sir Caelia walks upon the soft soil so lightly that she leaves no trace upon the earth. She winds through the trees like a mystical spirit, her white and white visage contrasting so clearly with the green and brown of the wood.

Sir Caelia: "I miss this place too."

A large-leafed plant shudders and moves one of its broad, green leaves for Morganna to sit upon. She crosses her legs at the knee and leans upon the apparently very sturdy foliage. She tilts her neck with mild curiosity.

Morganna: "Funny. Being a faerie, I thought you'd hate my garden paradise. I know fairies loved it, but a faerie?"

Sir Caelia: "I did. But now... just seeing it again makes me nostalgic I suppose. I used to long for fields of cold, pristine snow instead of all this... chattering life around me all the time. But, you know, your island had magic in abundance. Probably one of the only places so bristling with the stuff, apart from the nexuses."

Morganna: "Nexuses? That doesn't sound right..."

Sir Caelia: "Nexi?"

Morganna: "I don't think so..."

Sir Caelia: "Nexae?"

Morganna just shrugs her shoulders with a small smile.

Morganna: "Who bloody knows, eh? Languages is stupid."

Sir Caelia: "Human language, maybe!"

Morganna: "Human languages? You know in France they speak French, right? Hell even the Welsh speak their own tongue-twisting language."

Sir Caelia wafts her small, delicate hand dismissively.

Sir Caelia: "Just shout your words slowly and make wild gestures with your hand and they'll understand well enough!"

Morganna laughs.

Morganna: "Not like your husband, are you?"

Sir Caelia: "Opposites attract, right? Though I suppose not in your case..."

Caelia manages to smile coyly, but it did nothing to mask the mischief sparkling in her eyes. Morganna returns with a smile of her own, one of knowing arrogance and and sly acceptance of the fact.

Morganna: "Quite."

Sir Caelia hops onto a massive mushroom, looking just like a little child with her legs crossed and draped in oversized garments. Her impish, cherub face is constantly alight.

Sir Caelia: "You're up to something, aren't you?"

Morganna: "When am I not? I wouldn't be Morganna le Fay if I wasn't plotting to rape, seduce or otherwise elope with my brother. Sometimes I think he enjoys the prospect."

Sir Caelia: "I know his wife doesn't."

Morganna: "Guinevere, Guinevere, Guinevere... such a sly fox."

Morganna purses her lips together in contempt.

Morganna: "She is not the wholesome wonder that everyone thinks she is. I can tell you that much!"

Sir Caelia beams and wiggles her arms excitedly.

Sir Caelia: "Oh! Oh! Gossip time!"

Morganna feigns her inability to divulge for a few minutes, pretending to be under duress at Caelia's nagging for information, until she, seemingly, relents;

Morganna: "Don't you think there's a certain young man that looks suspiciously akin to our saintly queen?"

Caelia raises an eyebrow and thinks before shrugging helplessly.

Morganna: "That sharp bridge of the nose, but delicate nostrils? The strong cheekbones? The high forehead? Milky white skin?"

Still on the nose details, Caelia frowns.

Sir Caelia: "No.... you can't mean..."

Morganna: "I shall say nothing more!"

She waves her hand dramatically.

Sir Caelia: "No way, Morgan! Impossible! The boy... I mean his father, we all know! He would never..."

Morganna: "Wouldn't he?"

Sir Caelia: "I mean... no! It'd be too much of a betrayal! Aside from losing his head, his honour would... But... you know, if it's true... that would make the boy, Galahad, a legitimate heir to the kingdom..."

Morganna suddenly perks up with cautious curiosity.

Morganna: "What do you mean? He'd be Guinevere's son, not Arthur's!"

Sir Caelia: "Uther Pendragon only had the caesus belli, the right, to be king of Britannia... he didn't have the means. That was Arthur. Sure he fought wars, but how did he obtain Wales and Hen Ogledd? Through marriage to Guinevere. That's how. They're partners on the throne. She's not subject to Arthur. So if she has an heir apart from Arthur, that heir is still entitled to at least half of the kingdom, I'd say."

Morganna's draw drops and Caelia smiles a little at the expression. She gives a tiny shrug.

Sir Caelia: "But what do I know of human politics?"

Morganna: "But then Mordred would also--"

Sir Caelia: "Incest child."

Morganna glowers.

Morganna: "You know, I never said Galahad was Guinevere's child. You just assu--"

Sir Caelia: "I can't wait to spread this juicy gossip around the camp!"

Morganna: "Come on! You know I was lying! I just said it because I hate Guinevere!"

Sir Caelia: "Hmmm, maybe... but Galahad does, now that you say, bear a striking resemblance..."

She jumps to her feet, ready to saunter off. Morganna follows suit, a little too hurriedly.

Morganna: "Wait, wait. He is definitely not Guinevere's son. I know that for a fact, Caelia."

Sir Caelia: "Suddenly so quick to defend the queen's honour, eh?"

Morganna: "I know Galahad isn't Guinevere's son, because I know at the time his real mother just looked like Guinevere."

Sir Caelia rubs her chin in exaggerated consideration.

Sir Caelia: "Maybe. Okay, I'm going now!"

She turns away but then stops and glances back.

Sir Caelia: "Did you say at the time?"

Morganna looks sheepish.

Sir Caelia: "Ho ho ho! You do know who the boy's mother is!"


Sir Bedivere: "So Monde will tell you when to eat and what to eat?"

Fayrie King: "All based on your brainwave patterns, it can detect what food would most satisfy your pleasure centres. But also it is capable of maintaining healthy eating, so it will ensure that what you eat will satisfy your cravings but not at the expense of your health. Really, it manages your life much better than you ever could yourself."

King Arthur: "But that doesn't really sound like much... fun."

Fayrie King: "Oh! We have lots of fun! Monde can determine what exactly we'd find fun at any given moment. It constantly ensues interesting experiences are to be found."

The humans look dubiously at each other.

King Arthur: "So is your kingdom named The Imperium? Sounds suspiciously Roman to me."

Fayrie King chuckles lightly.

Fayrie King: "I doubt that I could be trusted with running something like The Imperium..."

Bedivere, Mordred and The Black Knight all glance at their king, thinking exactly the same thing about him.

Fayrie King: "My kingdom is part of The Imperium."

His face suddenly lights up.

Fayrie King: "If you're interested in joining The Imperium, they're always looking for new applicants! Big, small, weak or powerful - The Imperium embraces all walks of life!"

King Arthur: "Uh... no. Thanks."

Sir Bedivere: "So your benefactor provides you with technology?"

Fayrie King: "Should it be requested for, yes. Monde is just one sample. Monde uses data collected from across... countless cultures and correlates patterns and habits of organics, allowing the device to be incredibly precise. In fact, we should have some dinner! Monde!"

Monde: "Yes?"

Fayrie King: "What should I have for dinner?"

Monde: "Lemongrass[Ext 2] soaked in vril for ten days."

Fayrie King: "That would be perfect!"

The humans look grim.

Monde: "Your companions, however, aren't likely to enjoy lemongrass."

Fayrie King: "Now that is a shame..."

Monde: "Nor should they drink so much vril else their internal organs may well implode."

Their grim faces transform into horrified faces.

Fayrie King: "Oh right. Yes. I think you're right..."

He looks to the humans.

Fayrie King: "Liquid magic, essentially. Liquid aether perhaps. However you call it, it's perfect for beings made of magic, such as myself. But you more..."

He taps his zebra chin as he tries to think of the right word.

Fayrie King: "You inmagical beings may not want to be exposed to too much of the stuff."

King Arthur: "Right. Well I don't want to... implode. So I think we'll skip dinner. I want to move onto the next world in the solar system anyway. Neptune, right?"

Fayrie King: "You want to visit Neptune? That's one of our worlds too."

King Arthur: "It is?"

Fayrie King nods.

Fayrie King: "Billions of years ago The Imperium installed what we usually call The Dream Gate. They have these gates all over the place, but here a very unique one was set up so that the amount of aether available would increase exponentially. I believe you have a similar system on your Earth?"

King Arthur: "We do?"

Sir Bedivere: "I suppose you must be referring to The Rift and our connection to Albion?"

Fayrie King: "Ah! Albion! That's the place. Magical folk, we do like a good gossip, you know?"

Prince Mordred: "So, after all that time the ather from Uranus went to Neptune?"

Fayrie King: "That's right. Basically terraformed Neptune into a near duplicate of Uranus. Now its entire ecosystem is self-sustained. Not like your Albion, which needs to be constantly fed. Neptune doesn't consume, only produces magic."

Sir Bedivere: "So that's why they're twin worlds..."

King Arthur: "So there's nothing there?"

He looks dejected.

Fayrie King: "Just our processors. We mostly mix up batches of vril there. Nothing to see, really, unless you like manufacturies?"

Sir Bedivere brightens, while everyone else sours. The Fayrie King looks concerned, unhappy that he's ruined his guests spirits about their trip to Neptune. He thinks for a moment and then beams.

Fayrie King: "There is an very beautiful relic to look at, if you're into ancient and mysterious spacecraft!?"

Arthur almost jumps for joy.

King Arthur: "Ancient and mysterious spacecrafts are our specialty!!"

Fayrie King: "Well then, perhaps a visit is in order after all?"


Sir Galahad admires the skyline from the wide balcony. The entire planet of Uranus is blanketed both above and below by thick clouds. Usually aether is entirely invisible to the human eye, except when in such a high amounts that it forms into clouds - much like humidity becoming rainclouds. Aether is generally heavier than air and so it descends to the surface of the planet and hangs there as thick, blue fog. He can't see them, but the ass-head-guy said there's entire lakes and rivers of vril, liquid aether, lurking below the fog. Some of the aether, especially when impure, sits atop the atmosphere as the shroud of blue that coats the planet Uranus from sight when orbiting the world. When he and Mordred had spoken of the planet earlier, Mordred had called it a gas giant. Galahad thinks the prince may have been right about that.

Jutting up from the foggy landscape below are tall, metallic pillars - the massive processors that churn up the aether into products for sale throughout the galaxy. They're so tall that they ascend into the upper atmosphere where they become invisible to Galhad because of the cloud cover. The main building itself is usually below said cloud layer, but the chimneys extend well beyond the roof of the manufactory. He turns back into the room where most of the rest of his party are gathered.

There's a great orb floating above them that, as the ass-head-guy said, has something to do with powering the facility. Merlin said it was similar to the engine aboard Camelot and, since then, has been pouring over it like an overly-affectionate pet owner desperately trying to force her new pet to love her. He watches as she strokes one of the magical windows that shows her information about the device. He shakes his head disapprovingly.

Nerifan: "And here you can see a vial of vril. Very, very potent. More so than aether."

The ass-head-guy marches into the room with a small vial between his thick fingers. Galahad had noticed that these fayries are especially hairy. Not like animals, but certainly more hairy than the average human. The backs of Nerifan's hands are thick with dark hair. Even his fingers are pretty hairy.

Considering Nerifan said the vril in the vial is incredibly potent, he wields the little glass container rather nonchalantly as he passes it from one hand to the other to better show Merlin. Merlin is entirely oblivious to the danger as she swipes the vial and glares into its contents before her eager eye.

Sir Kay and Sir Lancelot, his father, are playing rock-paper-scissors. Evidently the processors became dull after little more than a cusory glance at them. Sir Tristram, as always, appears to be in deep thought. Sometimes Galahad wonders if he's actually just thinking of his dinner and simply has one of those 'deep and insightful' faces. Galahad's best friend, Sir Gawain, looks up to Tristram as a mentor, as does Prince Mordred. Galahad, though, thinks his own father makes a better knight - bound by honour, duty and chivalry, while Tristram represents skill, cunning and determination. None of these are bad deeds, but to Galahad they make a warrior of any land, not a Knight of Camelot. And certainly, Galahad thinks, Tristram's wife, Isolde of the White Hands, oughtn't be considered a Knight of the Round Table at all.

Sir Galahad, however, thinks he should strive to be the greatest knight that he can be - both in body and in spirit.

Nerifan: "I've just been informed that your king shall be joining you on the planet Neptune."

The people in the room glance at eahc other, confused.

Merlin: "How will he get there?"

Nerifan: "He'll go through the Dream Gate, I imagine. You will have to take the long route there, I'm afraid."

Admiral Ltexi: "Hey! I want to use the Dream Gate!"

Merlin: "Me too!"

Nerifan: "Sorry..."

He glances at Merlin apologetically, then turns to Ltexi.

Nerifan: "You're not allowed to use our technology. No offence to ours guests meant when I say this but... your people, admiral, could pose a problem to us and we'd rather you weren't privy to our secrets. At least not first-hand."

The Jupiterian sulks and crosses her arms across her bosom. Galahad often finds himself truly amazed by this strange, alien woman. Her incredible beauty seems strangely marred, in his mind, by her peculiar, boorish behaviour. She has none of the elegance, grace and modesty of Queen Guinevere. She is not what the knights are supposed to be rescuing. Yet, despite this, he finds her oddly alluring. It could be her nakedness, her long legs bare for viewing, or there could be something attractive in a woman who isn't in need of saving. Many of the lady knights of the round table prove themselves, often, better than any man. Yet he and his father are still always saving women across the land. He isn't sure what he is supposed to appreciate in a woman but his father swears off marriage and so, for now, Galahad tries to keep thoughts of the exotic Lady Ltexi from his mind. Desperately tries to force them from his mind because often he catches himself daydreaming at the worst times and embarrassing himself.

The gentle curve of her jaw, the way her hair shines and falls close to her ample breasts. Her thighs, soft and--

Sir Lancelot slaps his son on the back. Galahad jolts upright with sudden alertness.

Sir Galahad: "I wasn't doing anything!"

Lancelot laughs.

Sir Lancelot: "I know you're not! And that, my boy, is the greatest crime of all..."

Sir Galahad: "It is? What am I supposed to be doing?"

Sir Lancelot: "Go and talk to her."

Sir Galahad: "What!? T-t-talk to who? I don't know what you're talking about. Honestly, father, your head is always in the gutter."

Sir Lancelot: "No need to be ashamed, my boy. She's a fine, fine woman. Very, very, very fine indeed..."

Galahad watches as his father now zones out. Anger bubbles in Galahad and he shakes his father's arm.

Sir Lancelot: "What? What was I--? Oh. So yes! You should go and talk to her. Introduce yourself at least!"

Sir Galahad: "I... don't think I should. She's not really... I don't think I'm her type."

Lancelot shrugs.

Sir Lancelot: "You're probably right."

Galahad feels pretty sad about that and watches his father start to walk towards Ltexi. The older knight then stops and glances back.

Sir Lancelot: "But how will you ever know unless you talk to her first?"

He smirks and Galahad feels a little more confident, but still far too shy to speak with the incredibly confident and dynamic woman that is Ltexi. Lancelot nods to the woman as he passes her;

Sir Lancelot: "Looks like you'll have to join us, milady Ltexi. Never fear. We'll keep you safe!"

Admiral Ltexi: "I'll probably end up having to save you idiots from yourselves, I'm sure. Okay, let's go. Sticking with you lowly humans will have to suit me for now."

She smirks with a playful and yet disdainful look on her face. Merlin just laughs.

Merlin: "You love being with us really. It makes you feel smarter."

Admiral Ltexi: "Are you trying to say I'm not smart?"

Galahad suddenly feels ashamed of his cowardice. Even Merlin, the shy and awkward bald girl from Wales, feels comfortable and easy enough with the alien woman to laugh and joke and chat. Galahad curses the butterflies dancing in his stomach but he forces one foot forward. Then another. A couple of strides later and he's standing in front of her. She looks at him, perturbed by his sudden walk straight over to her and he realises he'd been anything but natural in his approach. He opens his mouth and chokes.

Admiral Ltexi: "You alright there, boy? You haven't been inhaling any of that golden aether, have you? I've seen some of these asses doping up on that stuff, sends them loopy."

He blinks, having no idea what she's talking about.

Sir Galahad: "I-I'm Sir Galahad. It's... it's an honour to serve you, my Lady Ltexi."

He suddenly finds himself on one knee as though he were addressing the king. He feels eyes on him from everyone in the room and his cheeks are instantly flushed red. He dares not look up. He just stares down... down at her beautiful, beautiful legs...

Admiral Ltexi: "Huh. Well, it's nice to see at least one of you human men knows where his place is before a woman."

She turns and he gets an eye full of two perfectly rounded and enticing cheeks--

Then she's gone. He splutters and gasps for breath, having held it since he'd fallen to his knee. He hears laughing and looks up to see Sir Lancelot and Sir Kay.

Sir Kay: "Well done, Galahad! Looks like you're in there, matey!"

Sir Lancelot: "Can't say I'd ever thought of submitting myself to her like that, but it bloody worked! I suppose that's what happens when you have a society run by women. They go power mad!"

Sir Kay: "Isn't that kind of what happens with men in our society?"

Lancelot gasps.

Sir Lancelot: "You've been listening Arthur and his equal treatment stuff too much, you know that?"

Galahad suddenly jumps to his feet, arms in the air and a wild grin on his face.

Sir Galahad: "I DID IT!"

Sir Kay: "Alright, alright. Calm down. Don't let it go to your head, fella. Not like she threw herself all over you, is it?"

But Galahad is too proud of himself to listen as he parades from the room with magic in his heart.


Mordred looks up at the Dream Gate. It's a massive rectangular structure in the middle of a blank and empty field. They had had to trek across the field, following a simple road, coughing and spluttering through the rank aether-fog of the planet. Mordred had gagged on the smell several times, certain that Sir Kay had arrived with another of his 'silent-but-deadlies'.

There isn't much to see in this bleak and barren field save for the construct itself. It's incredibly large, much larger than he'd expected. He had anticipated a door-sized device, or perhaps an opening the size of The Rift underneath Stonehenge. He had been to visit it once in the company of Merlin the Elder, who had wanted to test Mordred's magical potential.

Mordred had, of course, proven himself to have some magical talent but not enough to shout about. Apparently he took after his father more than his mother in that department. He remembers being somewhat disappointed and yet, at the same time, quite relieved. The best he could ever muster was to channel magic into his sword, then a simple short sword, and produce a flaming blade. Since then, however, he had dropped all attempts at magic because it left him too fatigued to actually fight efficiently. Instead he preferred to learn from Sir Tristram. Even Sir Lancelot had plenty of combat techniques for him to learn. Of course he learnt the best lesson from Sir Bedivere - don't get into a fight in the first place and let the stronger men do it.

Sir Bedivere is wiggling his 'improved viewing glasses' as he looks up at the gate.

Sir Bedivere: "A most impressive structure. The material... what is it?"

Fayrie King: "Orichalcum."

The Fayrie King speaks with a kind of reverence as he says the words, as though the humans with him ought to understand what the Hell that's even supposed to mean. The material itself is a shinier version of bronze, as though someone had gone to town with the polishing. Yet as Mordred stares at it it almost seems mesmerising and he's certain it looks like it's moving ever so subtly, like it's brimming with energy.

The frame itself sits atop of a squat platform, which would be as tall as any house in Britannia. The platform is mostly a gentle slope that leads up to the gate on both sides and Mordred imagines you could easily have a procession of soldiers marching through such a gate. Steps would have been difficult for an army to march down. Or perhaps a couple of those space boats could fly through...

As they walk up the slope the open space between the frame starts to shimmer. The closer they got, the more distortion appears.

Sir Bedivere: "How exactly does this gate work, your majesty? Are you certain we, inmagical as we are, can use it?"

The space-zebra grins a big, zebra grin.

Fayrie King: "Quite! This construct doesn't operate through magic! It's not of our design. In fact I have no idea what civilisation first devised of the machine, but The Imperium contains many, many diverse cultures and, so, technologies. Some are so useful that they may be used across the entire empire."

The shimmering wall Mordred now sees seems to only affect the space between the orichalcum frame.

Fayrie King: "What you see is actually a slip that will take us out of reality entirely. The frame itself is certainly created of magical material. Orichalcum is, essentially, aether solidified. But that's just for durability through the ages. The slip itself has nothing to do with magic. Probably nothing to do with science, even. Science is often about rules and workings. Many in The Imperium like to deliberately break those rules on a regular basis. Anyway. This will take us out of reality and into a place where we exist only as astral constructs."

Sir Bedivere: "Astral constructs?"

Fayrie King: "Psychological entities, you might say. Beings purely of the mind. The imagination."

The humans balk.

Prince Mordred: "You mean we literally cease to exist?"

Fayrie King: "Only physically."

The Black Knight: "Bloody aliens! They're all mad!"

Sir Bedivere: "I must say, your majesty, I don't know if this sounds entirely safe."

The fayrie king only chuckles pleasantly, as though children are telling him they're afraid of the dark and want him to leave a candle lit.

Fayrie King: "It's perfectly safe. Everyone has such a strong psychological grasp of themselves that you won't disappear or anything. Your subconscious is a very, very sturdy thing."

King Arthur: "What the Hell is a subconscious?"

Sir Bedivere: "I think it would mean... not awake?"

Fayrie King sighs.

Fayrie King: "Such a naïve people. So much still to learn! Your conscious mind is the part of your mind that you are aware of. The subconscious mind is the much larger part of your mind that is working without your being aware of it. I do hope that you people don't go the same way we did and stop trying to educate yourselves..."

Sir Bedivere: "A most intriguing thought. A part of our minds that we are unaware of. Perhaps that could go some way to explaining why certain actions are taken and we can't fathom why..."

Fayrie King: "Correct. So. Would you like me to go through the Dream Gate first?"

They all nod.

With a broad and understanding smile, the alien king sweeps his cloak as he walks, without pause, through the shimmering air. As his body touches it, it joins the rippling air and ripples outwards towards the orichalcum frame. They stare for a moment. Then the king jumps back out of the slip, his hands on his hips.

Fayrie King: "Come now, you have to actually follow me through!"

Taking a deep breath The Black Knight steps forward.

The Black Knight: "I am a low-born ******* child and a knight in your service, your majesty. I volunteer myself to go through this gate first. My death would spare your life should it not work..."

Fayrie King: "So melodramatic. It's fiiiiiine!"

King Arthur: "My brave knight. Your sacrifice here will never be forgotten. I will tell your father of your courage and honour."

Fayrie King: "This is getting ridiculous. I assure you, you'll be fine. You'll feel like fools when you go through and find that you're not dead."

Sir Bedivere: "If we cease to physically exist, doesn't that mean we are, indeed, dead?"

Fayrie King: "Nooooo! Dead would also mean you can't think of yourself, right?"

The Black Knight plucks up her courage and charges at the door with a cry. She leaps into the rippling air and Mordred watches her figure radiate outwards. A moment of panic grips him and he realises that he actually likes this woman. Had it been Lancelot, no doubt he would have charged through too - only Mordred would have been pleased to see the end of the buffoon. Instead he feels sympathy and regret. And a spark of hope as he stares at the gate.

She jumps back through and he can't help but smile and laugh with relief.

King Arthur: "Good Sir knight! Well done! You've made it back to us unharmed!"

The adrenalin has her supercharged but she does appear unhurt.

The Black Knight: "I can report that it's quite safe, my king. There's a very odd palace within where there are many of these gates. It's... abnormally tall. I felt dizzy just looking up."

Sir Bedivere: "This sounds like something I have to see!"

With the survival of The Black Knight, Sir Bedivere's courage seems to have resurfaced and he marches at the gate.

Sir Bedivere: "Forward we go!"

He hops through the gate.

Fayrie King: "You know, you can just walk through it? All this running and jumping is astounding. It's no wonder your species lives such short lives if you go burning up so much energy all the while!"

He then strides through after Sir Bedivere. The Black Knight bows to the king and marches through. King Arthur looks at Mordred.

King Arthur: "Excited?"

Prince Mordred: "I suppose. Nervous though."

King Arthur: "Me too. But the wonders of the universe are surely worth it, aren't they?"

Mordred suddenly feels some admiration for his father. Usually he thinks his father is simply mad and Hell-bent on doing whatever bizarre whim strikes him. But right now he sees that his father is a man that seeks out the wonders of life, the unique experiences that few could even dream of. To see the universe in ways that no others could, Mordred actually warms up to the idea and, side by side, he walks through the gate with his father.


External References

  1. Knights Who Say Ni article, Wikipedia.
  2. Cymbopogon article, Wikipedia.
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