Even though Galahad knew precisely where they were going, thanks to the Lady's mystical directions, he still found himself disoriented by moving through Annwn. He could get no true sense of how long they had been walking. Too long, he thought, far too long.
His guide had been silent, all the long hours of walking. He'd passed Galahad a brick of some kind of bread, which Galahad found sweet, pleasing, and filling once he had gotten past his reservations about eating food given to him by a fairy.
The river they were following wound through the land, and like the lake seemed to have no current to it. Beautiful and diamond-like, but as frightening as everything else in Annwn for its lack of precise reality.
It was almost a shock when Galahad saw animals upon the placid surface, a flock of ducks swimming and kicking up the only ripples he had ever seen upon the water here. He found himself staring at them as they walked by, trying to pick out any difference between ducks of the ordinary world, and the ducks of this otherworld. "They don't seem different."
"That is because they aren't any different," Oberon said with a sigh. "Ducks are ducks, regardless of where they were birthed."
"Disappointing," Galahad muttered.
"Perhaps. Yet do consider, your people and mine brought similar ducks here, long extinct on the home planets. And now, so long after, they persist. Perhaps within itself, that is a miracle to be celebrated." The alien never stopped walking even as he spoke, he didn't even look at the ducks.
"I guess," Galahad said, "are you sure they don't lay golden eggs?"
"That was a goose," Oberon responded dryly, "according to your foolish old stories. It is an impossibility, even for a bird of the Maiden Worlds."
"A what?" Galahad asked, confused.
"Our worlds. The Lilaethan."
Realms once settled by the Eldar race gave the image of impossible realms of absolute beauty, much like Annwn. Or, Galahad realized with a shiver, Avalon itself. Dare he ask the obvious question? He decided not to. Best to be ignorant, in this situation. "And you are the King of Annwn?" he asked.
"What gave you that impression? No, boy, I am but a borderguard. The King of Annwn remains Arawen, called the Deathlord by the foolish. He is the eldest of us all, and the wisest, and the strongest. I can't disobey him. If he told me to rip out your heart and throw it into the river, I would have no choice."
Galahad flinched and backed away, almost stumbling into the river.
Oberon looked back at him. "That was a joke. There would be no purpose to it. More likely, Lord Arawen would order us to keep you here, but that too I highly doubt."
Deciding to remain silent from then on, Galahad followed. Now he tried to look around, keeping an eye out for any other animals. More waterfowl appeared, peacefully swimming ducks, geese, even a pair of swans drifting elegantly down the river. Occasionally, a bird would fly overhead, though Galahad could never make out the kind. He could begin to see evidence of other life, but never any animal in the flesh.
"Are there more like you here?" he asked, unable to resist the need to speak.
"Very few," Oberon replied. He looked back, and he was smiling. "Though I don't believe I will be giving exact numbers to you."
"That's alright," Galahad said, oddly happy to have a more positive line of conversation. "It just seems lonely, that's all."
"Of course it is lonely. Yet I hardly mind it. I find I enjoy silence, the peace that can only come from doing very little." The alien looked away. "It is nearly time for you to leave, and I'll be alone once again. It may not seem so to your eyes, but we are nearing the place where you will exit, and make your way to your brother."
Galahad swallowed a little thickly. "Now that I am here, I'm not sure if I can do it. Even if I am brave."
Oberon reached into his long coat, and produced two spherical shapes. "It astounds me, how generous I am being, but I wish to provide what I can. Perhaps you remind me of kinder days, or perhaps I grow senile. Or, more likely, I simply desire as many minions of the enemy to die as possible."
Galahad took the spheres, carefully. They were solid and heavy, and made of a metal he didn't recognize from look or feel. Somehow, they made him nervous, and he handled them with absolute care.
"Press the button at the top, and be sure to throw them as far as you can. Are you good at throwing?"
"I am," Galahad said, with some pride. "What do they do?"
"They explode and destroy," answered Oberon, "within five seconds of the button being pressed. Press it again within that time-frame, and the countdown will cease. Hold down the button to delay it until you release it."
Galahad looked over the magical spheres, and it took him several seconds to find the button, so eerie was it hidden. "Thank you," he said solemnly.
"And here, one more gift." The eldar unwound something from within the cloak, a long silvery rope, so seamlessly tied it looked like a single thread of pure silver. "I wound it from my own hair."
The rope was delicate looking, and had a smooth texture to it, closer to stone than hair or fibers. "Really?" Galahad asked, a bit suspiciously.
"It'll hold your weight and more," Oberon replied, clearly not detecting the worry. "Best of luck to you, Galahad Prince of Benoic. I'd wish you to be of courageous heart, but I am certain my encouragement means little compared to that of the Lady you communicated with."
Galahad couldn't find the words to respond. With the rope wound around his shoulder, and the two spheres clipped neatly on his belt, he began to walk away. When he was many paces away, he turned back, and found he was unsurprised to find that Oberon the Borderguard was already vanished, as if made of mist.
****************
Grass gave way to stone, the pink sky disappearing to be replaced by grim cold granite walls, and Galahad found himself making his way up yet another grotto. His heart was pounding, worry overtaking him. There were tales of trips to the Otherworld that seemed to take mere hours or days, only for the hapless humans to emerge and find that years had passed. He could find his enemy disappeared, his brother long dead, or even the entire world ruled by Chaos.
Yet Galahad remained as determined as possible, keeping as tight a grip on his courage as he could. Despite everything, the strange alien woman had enthused in him a determination, her magics had shown him his enemy still awaited him. It was up to him now, his courage and what tools he had.
So he emerged from Annwn, and was almost startled to cursing by what he discovered. It was still afternoon, at most two hours had passed since his brother had been taken by the Chaos Lord. Surely it had to have been longer than that? He took a deep breath, and stepped forward.
He recognized the land from the vision granted by the alien witch. The trees were not as thick here, as it approached the coast. It would be a long walk before he reached the cliffs and Sir Turquine's horrible castle.
Nature was eerily silent as Galahad began his new hike. It was as if everything had fled the area before he had emerged back into the world. He barely noticed, determination flooding through him.
For an hour, Galahad walked, until at last he emerged into a recognizable country. Ahead, he could see where the great cliffs and the sea began. Poking above the cliffs, he could see the looming hideous spire-growth that topped the Chaos Lord's hold.
"At least it is still here," Galahad whispered to himself. He felt weak before it. A rope, two exploding spheres, a wooden sword, and a short knife. That was all he had to fight against Sir Turquine and his army of retainers.
"Be brave," Galahad reminded himself, "you can do this." He stepped toward the spire. All he had to do was free his brother. Lionel would be able to handle everything that he could not. He'd be quick and brave and clever, and that would be enough.
When he made his way up toward the castle, he kept low to the ground, like he was stalking an animal on the hunt. Looking out over the cliff, he could see the sea deep below, and the shadow of the hovering lumpen thing floating above.
This close, Galahad could see it was indeed a castle, floating over the sea through some means he couldn't fathom. The only things he could recognize as human fixtures were the occasional parapet or vine-overgrown window. He could see the occasional figure, moving about the remains of the twisted wall. He could see no entry-way, and could only think of one way to enter the castle.
He produced the strange rope Oberon had given him, and very carefully tied a loop at the end of it. He lifted a thumb, and tried to gauge how far the nearest parapet was. He could make one out, some ten feet up, the stone jagged and spiked like a rose-thorn.
He aimed and threw the rope, heart pounding and hoping he would be able to do this swiftly. It almost startled him, when the rope went up and held tight against his pull. He had thrown true, and successfully caught on the parapet on the first throw.
Galahad took hold of the rope, and refusing to look down at the dark sea and sharp stones below, leapt forward. His feet planted firmly on the wall of the castle, and to his horror and disgust, sank down into it, as if it was made of some organic material rather than stone.
His hands tight on the rope, Galahad slowly began the climb. His small frame ached, his legs quivering from long exertion. Galahad set his jaw against the pain and kept climbing. A knight never surrendered to the pain of the body, not until the battle was done.
As he got closer and closer to the parapet, he saw to his horror a guard on the wall. A short thing, carrying a long spear and wearing a helm and a leather loincloth. The mutant was standing right next to the jut of stone Galahad's rope had looped around, but was looking right past it, seemingly entirely unaware of anything happening.
"Don't look down," Galahad whispered, praying desperately to the God-Emperor and any Saint who might be listening.
The mutant, as if acknowledging the prayer, did indeed not look down, instead walking away from the stone to stand at a different point of the eroded wall.
Galahad found himself rushing now, scrambling up the wall and pulling himself up onto firmer ground. He turned slowly, looking over at the guard, who was scratching his crotch and looking out at the cliffs.
Galahad set down his feet, and instantly winced as his boots clacked upon the stones audibly. He stumbled, and found his feet, looking desperately at his foe.
Time seemed to slow as the mutant turned, reaching down to seize his spear, eyes widening in blood-thirsty rage when he saw Galahad behind him. The monster opened his mouth, and barked something in a language Galahad didn't recognize.
Suddenly, Galahad was running, not away from the man, but towards him. He snarled out an angry cry, and rammed straight into the mutant before he could take up his spear or press the attack.
The mutant stumbled, and with a terrified all-too human scream, fell off the wall and into open air, spear flying from his hand.
Galahad watched as the mutant fell. Turquine's soldier struck the cliff face, ending his pitiful flailing, pinkish blood splattering across the stone, before falling down into the sea.
Setting his jaw, Galahad turned away from the sight of his first battle and made his way toward finding a way into the castle proper.
