by GR Griffin
“I knew you’d be here.”
A sigh of relief flung past her lips as she cast her face back to meet his cheeky expression. It had been a while since his handsome face had graced her presence. She smiled gently at him, her soft brown eyes met his reluctantly, full of interest and hidden fixation.
“You scared me William!” she hissed as the nonchalant character took a seat in the hideout beside her. “I thought they’d noticed me.”
Shrugging, Will picked a leaf up from the ground distractedly.
“It’s not like you need to worry if you ever were captured.” He began with a scoff. “By nightfall you’d be able to free yourself anyway.”
The woman averted her gaze back to the base, refusing to let him see the hurt flash over her eyes. It was a wonder why she still felt anything for this stupid boy who spoke with a sharpened tongue. He did, however, notice her recoil as he casually leant towards her.
“Sorry. That was a bit insensitive.” He admitted.
Raising her eyebrows at his words, the woman cast a quick glance towards him.
“So where’s Merlin?”
“With Balinor probably.” Will monotonously supplied, hoping to purge that name from conversation as quick as possible.
He mentally cursed himself for how selfish envy still consumed him when she spoke of his friend, his best friend. It had been years ago, when they were all probing teenagers- it hadn’t lasted long. At the time Merlin did not understand that Will’s rather blasé retorts towards her were actually a strange way of demonstrating affection. He probably still didn’t understand the way Will operated. Will didn’t exactly ride the smoothest train of communication. Biting his lips at the awkward atmosphere enclosing around them, he rested his eyes on the Camelot Base. This wasn’t how he thought seeing her again would be like. His mind was reeling with questions; the main one being why the hell was she so impartial to him?
“Seen anything interesting yet?” he offered inanely, wanting to punch himself for the dullness of his question. Nonetheless, she answered.
“Not really. Considering their grand landing, they’re keeping themselves to themselves.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. They’re probably going through some ridiculous master plan.”
“I forgot that you’ve been there.” The woman said pensively, turning her attention back towards Will.
“Most exciting years of my life!” he exclaimed with a smile, examining the brown eyes for a moment attentively. Aside from the time I spent with you.
Frowning she studied the base, allowing her mind to drift towards negativity and anxiety. Will instantly identified her shift in mood, and placed a rough hand on her smooth shoulder.
“It’s okay Freya. We’ll chase them out in the next few months, lure a pack of Wildren’s their way- they won’t know what hit them.”
Laughing incredulously beside him, the woman – Freya – shot him a blinding smile, pearly white teeth exposed. He indulged in her compelling beauty and reached his hands into her dark hair. Then impulsively, he kissed her fiercely. She responded with hesitance at first, moulding her lips against his avidly a few seconds later. Will sheepishly glanced over to the Camelot Base once they parted. He was about to offer his apologies for his spontaneous actions, but noticed the smile creeping over her mouth. This gesture filled him with warmth and newfound confidence.
“I’ve missed you, you know. I’ve been thinking about you more than ever lately.”
A sprinkle of crimson dusted her cheeks.
“I’ve missed you too Will.”
Humming cheerfully at her words, he leant further into the leaves. The smile on his lips quickly morphed into a thin line, eyes emitting confusion. He staggered so far forwards that Freya tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder in fear he would stumble out into the clearing and be spotted. Squinting his eyes, he grinned once he had established what was happening at the Base.
“Well, well, well.”
“What is it?” Freya asked impatiently, trying to peer through the leaves at a particularly difficult angle. “I can’t see.”
“Looks like the birds are leaving the nest.” He replied, a mischievous element embedded in his tone.
“And with only a few hours until the sun begins to set…” turning to the woman with a knowing glint in his eyes, he watched the corners of her mouth upturn a little before swiftly moving back into a stern line.
“That’s brave.” Freya admitted ambiguously, refusing to participate in the obvious joke he was trying to make.
Her gruesome transformation, a terrible curse inflicted upon her, was not a laughing matter. However, Will seemed to be the only person who could make this dreadful part of her life amusing. Despite being moderately insulting, he refused to have in-depth conversations about it, or allow her to wallow in self-pity. She had never thanked him for doing so. Everybody else treated it with unconvincing empathy or loathing. He treated it like it was perfectly normal and absolutely brilliant.
“-Stupid more like!” he exclaimed, and she was unable to control her playful smile.
“I suppose it is,” She breathed, watching four figures make their way out of the base’s safety and into the forest. One of them was smart enough to have some kind of weapon in their possession – a gun according to Will. Meeting his eyes, she feigned innocence.
“…who knows what kind of formidable creatures roam the forests at night.”
♦☼♦
The four of them made their way towards the large black gates, bearing similar expressions of excitement and curiosity. The blinding sun was still relatively high in the sky, with a few hours to go until sunset. However, Uther had made it clear that this first visit to the outside world was only to be a short one. They should be back long before the sun hit the horizon. Each of them had received a teleporting device from Morgause in the case of an emergency so they could make a swift return. It was a peculiar black square box, small enough to fit into Arthur’s palm. On the device, there was a green button and a red one. Part of him wished they had been shown how to properly use this piece of equipment before delving off into the forest. The only thing she had said is that it could not be used unless you were standing still because something terrible to do with molecular structure and scientific things he didn’t understand would happen if you weren’t. Judging by the look of horror on Leon’s face, Arthur guessed it was best to just stick to what she said.
Arthur seemed to be the only one of his companions with some sense of camouflage, dressed in dark green trousers and a murky brown vest top that outlined his fit physique. Gwaine seemed to get the general idea of camouflage with some shades of the forest replicated in his clothing. Leon on the other hand was oblivious to it, clearly too engrossed with the idea of going out into the Wuduwésten region of Albion (the area encompassing Serepolis, Ealdor and Dresdentian. Leon crafted the name, basing it on the druid word for ‘forest’ fittingly.)
The dark-haired woman beside them drew Arthur into a tight embrace, almost choking his airways at its brute force. Returning the hug in surprise, he felt a smirk tickle his lips. It was almost as if Morgana was worried about this little outing.
“Don’t.” she hissed as she released him, eyes sharpening for a moment.
The words on the tip of his unsheathed tongue slithered away into silence, replaced by a mock questioning raise of his eyebrows. Morgana turned from Arthur and pulled Leon into her arms for a moment. Beside them Gwaine pulled a contorted face, and Lancelot conveniently turned his gaze elsewhere. Then, abruptly she paced away from the four men and met Arthur’s eyes slowly.
“Be careful. You don’t know what’s out there.”
Rolling his eyes, the blonde adjusted the belt around his waist. Attached to it was a gun and a primitive knife encased in leather.
“We’ll be fine Morgana, it’s not like the trees have teeth.” He insisted with a hint of blithe amusement, failing to notice the extent of her unusual anxiety. For a split second he mentally wince
d at the image spread across in his mind, his words tempting fate; he really hoped the ancient trees didn’t have teeth.
The towering gates opened with a loud buzz, gesturing for the small team of explorers could leave the premises. Lancelot and Leon took the first steps out of the base, exchanging looks of concentrated enthusiasm. The rugged Gwaine followed them, swishing his dazzling hair out of his face. Indifferent to the whole thing, Arthur wallowed after them, taking out his sunglasses to avoid being skewered by the sun’s rays. Sure, part of him was genuinely interested in viewing the landscape. But he wasn’t here to flatter the trees and take endless samples. He was supposed to be talking to the druids and negotiating with them.When his father expected for him to actually meet the druids he was unsure. It seemed this project was going to be a laborious one, and some things were going to take time.
They reached the end of the Base clearing, greeted by vast trees that loomed ominously over them and a breadth of wild plants, some taller than themselves. Within the forest, large parts of it were not touched by the sun and hovered in a dull light that trickled through the layers of leaves. Pulling out a transparent computer screen from his backpack, Leon pressed a few buttons and revealed a map of the area, constructed by him. The scholarly genius had spent the past month building a navigation system with the aid of Morgause and her profound knowledge of Albion. Arthur was unsure how she knew what she did. To put it bluntly, she didn’t look like the kind of person to sit and read books all day.
“If we continue that way,” Leon pointed with a finger absently, eyes studying the holographic map. “We will meet the evergreen trees of Dresdentian. But if we went,” his body turned forty-five degrees, finger hoisted towards a different direction. “This way. We’d be closer to Ealdor.” And the Crystal Cave was the unspoken implied message.
It was no secret that Ealdor held the most interest to Leon, mainly because of the peculiar way the surrounding wildlife appeared to be linked to the Crystals. Arthur had been forced to listen to his lecture all about it before they boarded the plane to Albion. Exploring the Ealden forests appeared to benefit every agenda here, even the secret one known only to the young Pendragon.
“Well then it’s settled.” Arthur clasped his hands together, striding confidently towards the second option. “You said so yourself you found Ealdor’s ecology fascinating. Why don’t we start big?”
In mutual agreement, the others trailed behind him. The trees swallowed them whole, shoving them into the internal network embedded inside. Eyes wide, Arthur gazed around in unashamed awe. It was striking. Colossal tree trunks were scattered in the distance, not yet close enough for their size to be truly appreciated. In front of them, the more modest trees allowed pure jets of sunlight to sift through their arms, decorated with thick vines and moss.
The light revealed that shrubs and plants obscured the muddy ground. Some of these plants were recognisable like the fern with its thin, serrated leaves. Others were foreign and abnormal. Alongside the fern, flowering plants grew staggeringly tall. One plant nestled by Arthur’s side had leaves larger than his head, succulent and encrypted with a velvet soft texture. His eyes soared up the thin stems of these plants that merged into the humble trees the higher his eyes went. The tops of the trees shielded the sky; small pockets of white bursts were visible. It created an interesting ceiling, array with contrasting shapes and shades of emerald.
“Wow.”
Lancelot voiced his personal amazement. He reached out towards a magenta plant. Abruptly the plant folded in on itself, almost taking the man’s hand into its clutches as it snapped shut. Jumping back in alarm, Lance stumbled into Gwaine who was grinning. Arthur laughed at the spectacle; Leon was not so amused. Sighing, he inspected the gash across Lancelot’s tanned hand with a frown. He quickly pulled out a large plaster from his backpack and swatted it onto the skin.
“That was a disguised giant Venus flytrap. Don’t touch anything.”
“How are we supposed to take samples if we can’t touch?” The mischievous brown haired man beside Arthur asked.
Leon shot Gwaine a pointed look with a trace of smile before fumbling through the extensive vines and draping branches in front. Casting one more glance to the beautiful entrance into the forest, Arthur moved forwards gracelessly. The ground had a spongy texture beneath his feet, keen to latch onto his shoes. The sound of exotic birds filled the tranquil air. Some screeched menacingly, others chirped contentedly on the ledges of their trees. Arthur pretended not to notice how they seemed to leer towards them as they walked past, gazing upon them with eyes far too wise for animals.
After walking for twenty minutes with nothing of interest jumping out, they began to notice that a fluffy red bird was resilient in pursuing them. Or more specifically it pursued Arthur, darting around his head countless times with a droning hum. It’s scarlet wings fluttered hypnotically with an abnormal shimmer, the navy blue beak was short at the end of its rounded face. Batting it away with his hands, he irritably muttered under his breath. It sprung back towards him effortlessly, large lilac eyes blinking at him.
“Aw, Arthur’s found a forest friend-”
“-Shut-up Gwaine.” He retorted, a little more aggressive with his lashes at the air, unable to mirror the bird’s speed. He had never been an animal person. Not to say that he didn’t like animals, he just didn’t see the appeal to keep one. When it flew too close to his face, he clamped his eyes shut and rushed forwards.
“Go away!”
For a moment he believed himself to be free of the ridiculous creature. Then the plump bird levitated in the air in front of him, titling its head to the side. Groaning, Arthur dived under the bird to walk forwards. It followed him loyally like a new puppy.
“It’s a cute little thing.” Lancelot chuckled from in front with Leon who turned around and smiled, ensuring to snap a quick photograph of it for his database. Arthur’s tormented face added to the picture immensely.
“I think you should name it.” Gwaine said, clearly delighted by Arthur’s irritation.
The flaming complexion and gritted teeth gestured to him that the blond wanted to do nothing more than grab the gun from his pocket and scare the damn thing away by the noise of a fired bullet. But that would no doubt attract unnecessary attention towards them.
“What’s the druid word for annoying?” Arthur called out gruffly to Leon a few metres ahead. The red bird, wings glistening in the streams of sunlight, persistently flew by Arthur’s ear.
“…Well the closest match for this scenario would be the word ábilgest*.” Leon replied knowledgably.
“Right. Ábilgest, it was a pleasure meeting you. Now go home.” Ábilgest appeared to show dislike towards the name, chirping indignantly in response as if it understood Arthur’s words. Rolling his eyes, Arthur brushed the bird from his shoulder. It perched itself back onto his shoulder in seconds.
“Look it’s your own fault. Maybe if you weren’t so irritating, I would have called you something different!” part of him couldn’t believe he had resorted to arguing with a bird in a magical forest.
It was almost surreal. The successful businessman, heir to Camelot Enterprise, was now dressed in old, tattered clothes and traipsing around the forest like a bloody tourist. If somebody told him he’d be doing this two years ago he would have laughed and told them to piss off. Ábilgest clicked its beak together, refusing to leave Arthur’s shoulder. The sensation of its talons against his thin vest top was weird, he concluded.
“Arthur it complements your eyes!” Gwaine said with a snigger.
“Don’t start filling its ego.”
“I wasn’t talking about Ábilgest.” He gestured towards the thick vine that had snaked its way around Arthur’s left arm.
Grabbing the sharp knife from his belt, Arthur lunged at the vine. The fact that a vine seemed to have a conscious body freaked him out greatly. Ábilgest flew off his shoulders, wailing at the vine as if it would succumb to its tuneless melody. He sliced the vi
ne effortlessly, watching it wilt into the ground. However, what happened next he was not expecting at all. The vine emitted a faint glow and in a matter of seconds grew back what Arthur had chopped off. Ábilgest stared at the vine with its huge eyes. Pacing back, eyes doubled in size, Arthur gazed over to Leon who made his way over in fascination.
“W-what the-?!” he spluttered, knife still in hand. “I just cut that vine!”
“It’s brilliant,” Leon gasped, crouching down towards the vine. “It’s like…the magic flows through the land, connecting everything together, allowing energy to be transferred between organisms to revive and heal themselves. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Let’s take a sample, Gwaine.” Lancelot said keenly, hauling out a transparent cylinder from Leon’s backpack on the ground.
The dark-haired man kneeled beside Lancelot, and Arthur suddenly felt extremely out of place. It seemed they were too captivated to remember his presence, and they hardly needed his help in the matter. The three men were experts in this kind of thing. Being in a whole new land, Arthur guessed that his clumsy hands would not be wanted. Shuffling awkwardly, he gazed upon the scene, unsure what to do with himself. The realisation that he knew nothing of this department’s procedures dawned on him. His whole presence here was in all honesty purposeless.
Arthur knew that wandering off, especially in the forests of an unknown world, was incredibly stupid. He could practically hear Morgana’s scolding tone ringing through his ears. Nonetheless he gradually paced away from the group, Ábilgest flying beside him devotedly. For the first time since this bird’s arrival he appreciated its company. Smiling a little as it landed on his shoulder, he petted the bird’s chaotic tuft of hair on its head. Deep inside, he had to admit it was rather adorable. The red bundle of fluff purred in appreciation.
