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Chapter One -- the Conception of Arthur Part One The story begins long before either Kay or I became involved, of course. After all, both our good host and I were Servitors of Purity. I was a demon hunter by trade -- and had been for some centuries. I had attracted Uriel's favor, in much the same way that you hold mine, Helsa. I was determined to be worth the friendship of my Archangel, so I pursued demons with a zeal. I remember once I was fighting in Siberia...;. But that's neither here nor there, of course. This is not my story. Well, not entirely. Suffice it to say, Arthur's story did not begin with Purity. It began, as so many different stories do, with Destiny. Not a man's Destiny -- not yet. But with the Destiny of a people. Of a world, ultimately. Not that any of us would have believed it then. But two did believe. Yves was one, of course. But he keeps his own counsel. The times I have spoken of Arthur to him, he has simply gotten that damnable smile of his on his face. The other was a Seraph of Destiny. He was called... well, many things, but we will call him the name you would recognize. We will call him Merlin. Merlin was an old Seraph -- wise and powerful. Generally left to his own devices and the promotion of his own Word. Mm? Oh yes -- Merlin was the Angel of Foreknowledge. Some felt that made him the Angel of Prophecy, but that's more Gabriel's pervue than Yves's. He was one of those who had been there for the Fall, and they say that Lucifer himself tempted him. But in those early days, Merlin was not so easily tempted by anything. That would change, however. The Seraph was no stranger to Yves's library. He knew the shelves well, the ladders and the gaslights and the tables and chairs. He would walk its hallways and collections often, searching for a bit of information here or there, and more often than not never see his master. So how Yves knew Merlin wanted to see him, Merlin couldn't say. He simply accepted the ways of his Archangel. "You have a matter of some importance," Yves asked, closing the book he had been reading over his own finger to mark his place. "I do, Master." Merlin drew a long map out of his robes, and spread it on a table. Yves stepped over to join him. "This island, north of Gaul. The eddies and currents of Destiny surround it. Its next several decades will...;." "Will what?" Yves sounded mild as always, studying the map with the care a father takes with his child's projects. "I'm not sure as yet." Merlin looked at Yves. "Destiny and Fate seem intertwined there -- not merely for one small island and their people, but perhaps something far greater." "You ascribe the Destiny of Mankind to a few war chieftains fighting for territory," Yves asked, an eyebrow arched. "Perhaps. The view is not clear... it bears closer examination. It bears intercession." Yves seemed to weigh that, looking again at the map. "Mm. You're sure of this?" "I am sure of nothing, Master." The Seraph looked uncomfortable even with this admission. "But I can sense... many things. Foreknowledge seems to ring throughout this... and I believe it could be well served." "Very well," Yves said, rolling the map up carefully. "Who do you suggest we send to investigate?" Merlin looked thoughtful, glancing at the rolled up map, and then at some of those nearby. There were a few Mercurians of Destiny, giggling over some book. He looked back. "I should go myself. I cannot... describe enough of what I have foreseen to ask anyone else to go." He nodded then, perceiving the Truth of his words. "I shall go alone. That will be for the best in this." Yves frowned slightly. "You're not one for Earth, my friend. You don't know its ways, and Seraphim are not known--" "I am aware, my Master." He looked back at Yves. "I... I have seen myself, alone of the Host among the humans. I have seen other Servants working their Superiors' wills in glimpses, but they leave me to my own affairs and I leave them to theirs. I believe... this is my cross to bear, and it is a solitary one." Yves nodded, somewhat somberly. "Very well. Mm... I can prepare a Role, I am certain...;." "If it pleases you, I can establish myself, Master." Merlin bit his lip slightly. "I... mislike the assumption of Roles when I must bring myself to Earth. They smack of deception and the intentional misplaying of the Symphony." Yves looked... perhaps sad, for just a moment. "Very well, old friend. Very well. You have an appropriate vessal?" "I do. I shall inform you as I know more. It will take some time to make my way into the area, descending to our Tether in Rome, I think. That will also allow me the opportunity to learn something of the ways of man in that region, as I travel." "Mm... wise. There are faster ways into the region of Britanny, but not better ways. I approve." "Thank you, Master." The Seraph bowed slightly, and turned to go. "Merlin?" "Mm?" He looked back. "Good luck." Merlin blinked slightly. "Of... course, Master. I have faith in Providence and our Heavenly Father. Good day." Yves watched the Seraph go, the shimmering of light along his scales reminding the Archangel of sunlight on the water. A perfect Servitor. A shining Destiny. But so much pain.... Yves reopened the book, and began to read where he had left off.
"I don't understand," Drake said, shaking his head and having to move quickly not to spill his mead. "I mean, Helsa keeps me on a short leash at best, but you're saying that Merlin backtalked to Yves left, right and center?" "That is my understanding," Laurence said. "But understand -- Merlin was not even an ordinary Servitor of Destiny. He was old enough to have seen the Fall with his own eyes
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A Night on Glastonbury