I didn’t have the words to describe how I was feeling. I had been able to ignore it in the chaos of everything, but as soon as things started to calm down in the clearing it had become abundantly clear:
My magic was almost entirely depleted—my magical core which had always been overflowing was now hollow.
Never before had I felt such a queer sensation as being so empty of the very fiber of my being. Not only that, my core felt almostcracked.
I had been formed of magic by Arianrhod, of her very essence, and now that lifeblood was nearly gone from me.
Fear filled me as I continued trying to form the words of my predicament.
“Of course he is not well, omega, he is on the ground,” Arthur said as if Gwen was stupid. I could not see his face from where I was lying on the ground, but his tone was abundantly clear.
I winced, my king was definitely not making a good impression on her.
“I knowthat. I do have eyes, you know,” her words were sharp and barbed as she threw them at him. “But I was trying to see if he can speak, you absolute brute!”
They were met with a stunned silence from the king and I nearly let out a gasping laugh as she let out a little harrumph. I could almost envision Arthur’s dumbfounded expression at her audacity to speak to him that way.
But I didn’t get the chance to actually laugh because a pair of cool hands cupped my jaw and an altogether different sensation filled me.
I had described Juneau and Eleanor’s magic being sparked within them giving them access to the magical cores that theyhad always possessed, but feeling it was unlike anything I could ever adequately describe.
My eyes flew open just in time to see the brown in Gwen’s eyes start to glow an unearthly shade of blue.
Then the gaping emptiness in my soul started to fill as I was a dying man trying to slake his thirst. Whatever magic Gwen possessed was calling to mine, drawing it out of its hiding place and grounding me on the earth again.
Then she yanked her hands away with a gasp, the glowing blue fading back to brown again. “How did youdothat?”
I sat up with a groan, feeling less like I was going to float away at any moment and more like I had just been run over by a herd of angry deer instead. A marginal improvement. “I did notdoanything. You were the one performing thatmagic,Gwen.”
“Me?” she asked incredulously, holding up her hands. “How?”
But I did not have time to explain the intricacies of magic to her right now for, in the distance, I could hear the heavy footfalls of the rest of Arthur’s would-be pack as they approached, just as the gods had shown me in flashes all those years ago that they would.
I wish I could be surprised at who the gods had chosen for Arthur and Gwen, but I was not. It all made utter sense as each member’s face came into view.
Heading up the group was Lancelot who had been a newer addition to the round table at the time of my leaving. He had grown into his solemn dark eyes and the perpetual frown he always seemed to wear.
He had looked sullen as a young knight all those years ago, but he had grown into his looks and I was sure that the maidens would describe him as ‘broody’ rather than sullen now. He was one of Arthur’s best sword fighters then, so it was unsurprising that in the ten years of my absence he had risen in the ranks of the knights who served Arthur.
Flanking Lancelot on either side were Bedivere and young Gawain who I’d never formally met outside of my visions as he had been just a lad living in the kingdom of Lothian upon my exit. As the middle son of King Lot of Lothian and the only child of a lower-noble queen who died promptly while the youth was barely out of infancy, he was an unfortunate and overlooked soul.
Bedivere, however, had been around Arthur almost as long as I had, having grown up in the same village as we had as the son of the blacksmith.
If anyone would have a level-head about any of this, it would be Bedivere. He had been older than us, more like an older brother to Kay, Arthur, and me than just Sir Ector’s most trusted squire.
Time had seemed to have aged him as well—the bright and cheerful visage he once possessed was all but gone now as he frowned at the scene before him, his silver eyes taking in my position on the ground and the two figures knelt on either side of me.
“My king, is all well?” Lancelot called, glancing suspiciously at Gwen and me.
“I do not know,” Arthur answered with surprising honesty, his blue eyes locked on me. Despite his continued anger with me, it was clear that my oldest friend was concerned about me as he held a hand out to help me to my feet.
Hesitantly, I took it and as soon as I was on my feet he offered the same hand to Gwen who glanced at it before ignoring it entirely and standing on her own.
Arthur let out a huff of exasperation, letting his hand drop to his side before he turned to his knights. “Apparently, my men, I am supposed to form something called a pack.”
“A pack?” Gawain asked, his nose scrunching with confusion as he looked over to Bedivere to explain the word to him. “Is that not what the wolves do?”
Bedivere hushed him, but his expression told me that he had the same thought as the younger alpha.
