A Conversation for Camelost

30. (30 November)

Post 1

Dmitri Gheorgheni - Post Editor


'Psilocin, atropine, tetrahydrocannabinol. Quite a party someone's been to!'

'THC from the skunk, yeah? Psilocin, magic mushrooms? But atropine? Afraid that one beats me!'

'Atropia belladonna, Deadly Nightshade. Quite a popular poison back in the dim and distant. Used in mystical rituals for centuries too. Whoever is using this recreationally certainly knows their stuff! Drops, tabs, even powdered, this stuff could be used to lace anything.

'Very dangerous cocktail you have here, though, and, yes, the subject would be in an extremely altered state of consciousness, and yes again, open to suggestion no matter how bizarre, as you asked.

'Overdose almost certainly would prove fatal, and the levels here are bordering lethal, so whoever you took that sample off was one lucky bunny!

'Hope the tox report answers your questions, Sergeant, always happy to help, here's the printout, you have a good day now.'

He handed the lab report and the blood sample back to Lance,

'Thanks Doc, yeah that makes the 'what' a bit clearer, the how, the who and the why, may never come to light, but don't worry, I don't think we'll see this particular cocktail out on the streets somehow! See you soon.'

On his way out, Lance threw the vial of his own blood into the clinical waste bin.

Lucky bunny indeed, he thought to himself, as he climbed into the car.

'Right, My Lady, where wouldst thou like to go for dinner - lovely dress by the way Gwen - you look absolutely magical!'

Ten miles away, (also looking rather magical), Emrys hunched over his firepit.

Smoke and light made increasingly intricate forms in the air.

Emrys needed to know! Needed to understand!

How could his plans have failed so badly? Why had they betrayed him, gone back to their miserable little lives? There should have been glory and justice for the world, a New Beginning for the Old Ways!

No more hiding in the shadows of legend, myth, and history, Merlin could, at last, stride the world, humans bowing in awe and fear of his power.

With Arthur as his puppet, Emrys would be a god!

The smoke swirled, dancing lights around the stones showed him the Hill, showed him the past. Time reversed, ten years, give or take, Emrys peered deep into the unfolding vision, looking for answers in the rain.

A decade ago….

Torrents of rain battered the hill at Helsby, mud slid down the promontory that looked, from certain stretches along the M56, like a giant asleep on the hillside.

The rain pounded down, disturbing the hill, seeking cracks, flushing away vegetation and old beer cans onto the Frodsham Road to Chester.

Something deep beneath the hill stirred as lightning flashed and thunder rumbled.

Fred Jones squinted against the rain as he performed his security rounds, shaking hands with door handles, checking gates, though why any self-respecting thief or vandal would be out on such a night was beyond him. Still, he had a job to do, and do it he would.

More likely to bump into Noah than a burglar in this bloody weather. No one would be out tonight!

As though to prove him wrong, a car horn sounded, and he saw the headlights flash bright, momentarily illuminating what looked like a naked man, before the car swerved, and with a final indignant beep, was gone.

Fred splashed into the roadway, torch beam reflecting off horizontal rain.

Lightning again. Six feet away, standing in the center of the road, naked but for some kind of loin cloth, stood a man. Dripping mud and looking puzzled.

'You okay, mate?' Fred shouted against the rain and rumbling thunder, another car beeped and swerved around them,

The man remained still, rain dripping from his long hair and beard, lightning flashed, piercing eyes looked at the Security Guard, he spoke, but the thunder took his words away.

'Yeah, yeah, know all this!'

Emrys blew another huge plume of ganja smoke over the stone circle, the vision metaphysically tutted to itself and the scene rewound and shifted.

Fifteen minutes earlier, the hillside oozed mud and old crisp packets, the long-haired guy, now dressed in an outfit that could only, even by the kindest observer, be described as trampish, slipped and slid down the path. His makeshift tent had been washed away in the storm, his bottle of cider with it.

As the guy searched frantically for the alcohol, the lightning flashed down again.

No, cancel that, this lightning was actually going up into the clouds.

No stranger to hallucinations, the tramp stood, perfectly calm, as the hillside split, a great light came forth and, out of the glorious beacon, walked a very regal looking dude, rubbing his eyes and yawning mightily.

So! (Emrys laughed, pleased his majick hadn't failed) King Arthur had indeed been awoken that night!

However, after a brief catch up, 1500 years of human toil, succinctly boiled down to:

'Bit crappy really, but you can't moan if the cider’s cheap enough, can you?'

Six minutes, in the rain, with a drunken hobo, a little magic to manipulate the stinking serf, and Arthur Pendragon decided he may just go back to bed for another snooze.

He was sure the tramp would do a fine, fine job as king, especially with Merlin to push him in the right direction.

'So I'm King then?'

'Indeed you are, rightwise King of all England, Sire, now go find someone and tell them the great news! (oh, and get rid of the clothes, eh, not very fitting) … Your Majesty.'

Emrys smiled, despite himself, the crafty, lazy, old goat, just wait, he'd get his own back.

He threw the joint into the flames, the vision dimming, then it was gone.

Emrys the Immortal smiled at the beautiful sword, blade buried deep in a large rockery stone, now, just for now, a whimsical garden ornament.

'Next time, Arthur - see you next time!'

30. (30 November)

Post 2

Caiman raptor elk - Escaping the Array

A good case of count me out for this one, I'll take the next...

At last you bring back the magic and leave a cliffhanger for the sequel.

I very much enjoyed reading this. Good work!smiley - cheers

30. (30 November)

Post 3

Tavaron da Quirm - Arts Editor

Great ending!
I also enjoyed this very much!

smiley - smiley

30. (30 November)

Post 4

paulh, the apocalypse is coming, it's just late

Well, King Arthur is like a lot of the rest of us, waking up and deciding he'd like to sleep some more. I was like that this morning smiley - erm

And maybe it's not a great reign that is spent in a home for the bewildered. The world just isn't ready for a repeat of the Once and Future King just yet. Try again later, Art.smiley - winkeye

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