"By the Teeth, Longsword!" Allazar gasped.
"And I wonder still." Gawain continued. "Pahak of the D'ith Sek declares that no magic is needed to turn a farmer into a chicken. So I wonder, seeing wizards, would I be surprised at all, if a royal Crown suddenly stood, and flapped his arms, and flew? And so I wonder, after all these years, what it is you and your kind have been whispering into the ears of kings."
"Raheen…" Brock began, his face clouded and eyes dark.
"Callodon." Gawain replied. "Friend of Raheen these many years, urged by wizards to do nothing when the Ramoth came. Urged by wizards to do nothing when my home was destroyed. All of you, urged to do nothing. And all the while, wizards whispered in your ears, and the Ramoth travelled your lands, calling 'make way'. And I wondered…."
"This is outrage!" The wizard behind Brock exclaimed. "I am Darrath of the D'ith Sek, First of Callodon, and will not be insulted thus!"
"Nor I!" came cries of protest from the lower seats.
Gawain lowered his head, and then looked up, his eyes blazing aquamire as he shifted the longsword, holding the grip in his right hand and the scabbard in his left. A hush fell as he whirled around and eyed the lower seats.
"Yet, now I wonder no more." Gawain glowered. "For I have seen across the Teeth, to the land whence all wizards came. Brothers of Morloch, all of you. Small wonder you dread with such passion alliance between Threlland and Elvendere. Small wonder you urge Crowns to do nothing. Brothers of Morloch, were you not sent out centuries ago, when first your kind realised the devastation wrought by you on your own lands was irreversible? Are you not here to prepare the way for his coming?"
Elayeen gasped, and the shock on her face was mirrored by all those occupying lofty seats. Fresh cries of outrage rang through the chamber, and all around, wizards were on their feet. Allazar strode forward between Gawain's vacant throne and Elayeen's, agog, as Gawain's eyes shone a rich black and the longsword's scabbard fell empty to the floor…
It was not Pahak of Elvendere that drew Gawain's attention, but the D'ith Sek wizard Darrath standing to the rear of Brock's throne. The wizard's face was contorted with rage and concentration, and his right hand was already raised, pointing at Gawain, while thin lips chanted silently. Almost at once, a shaft of searing yellow light blasted from the wizard's finger, across the circle, only to slam into Gawain's raised blade.
Gawain stood as if in warrior's salute, the crackling aquamire blade raised vertically before his face. The beam danced and crackled on the steel, turning darker as energy flowed back from the sword towards the wizard. More crackling bursts of energy flickered around the chamber, wizards striking at each other, and Gawain saw Allazar step in front of Elayeen, hands raised and chanting, as a bolt of blue-white lightning snaked towards her…
Arrows and bolts sang through the air too, honour-guards under Jerryn and Sarek's command loosing their shafts…
Gawain stood fast, noting Allazar on his knees, hands held before him, chanting furiously, holding the blue-white lightning at bay, protecting Elayeen…
The air was suddenly charged, and the shaft of light connecting the longsword to the Callodonian D'ith Sek was all black, and humming, driving the wizard back into the wall at the rear of the chamber, two crossbow bolts protruding from his chest. Yet still the wizard stood, still his arms were raised, and still he chanted furiously as a thalangard arrow blossomed from his stomach…
Light seared Gawain's eyes as wizards chanted and fired blasts at each other. Pahak had stepped in front of Thal-Hak, protecting the Crown and chanting blasts towards someone in the lower seats. A wizard behind the Mornland Ambassador raised his arms towards Gawain, and then suddenly fell as a blast of white lightning ripped through his chest and flung him back into the wall.
Jerryn and Sarek pressed forward, standing side-by-side, shielding Elayeen as kings dived for cover and reached for swords while crackling energy danced around the chamber and the dying screamed and wizards chanted…
Darkness, shimmering like a cloud, began to form in the circle, between Gawain and the wizard Darrath. Gawain vaguely heard the cries of men, the screams of those struck down by shafts and magic, and then the shimmering before him resolved, slowly, into the shape of a familiar landscape…
"Master…help me!" the Callodonian wizard gasped, as strange aquamire from Gawain's blade continued to pin him to the wall.
In the shimmering cloud, the northern slopes of the Teeth were clearly visible, thousands of Morlochmen hammering at the rock…then the vision was hurtling across the barren, blackened landscape, over the vast charred pit where once a lake of aquamire fermented, through a terrifying and devastated wilderness, towards a castle tower perched high upon blackened rocks. Then the shimmering stabilised.
"Foolish…" Morloch announced, the dark voice resonating through the chamber, as another shaft sang, and thudded into flesh, and the lightning which threatened Allazar and Elayeen died with the wizard commanding it.
"To let him vex you so to premature action." Morloch sighed, and turned to face Gawain. "Still you live. Still you vex me."
"They see you, Morloch. They have seen all."
"Irrelevant. Futile. I come. You cannot stop me."
"I can delay you." Gawain smiled cruelly, his black eyes shining fiercely "Perhaps long enough."
"Gawain!" Elayeen cried, her voice piercing the aquamire crackling, filled with fear and dread for her husband.
Morloch tilted his head, and his eyes widened. "Gawain? Raheen? Impossible…"
"I am Gawain, son of Davyd!" Gawain cried, raising the sword aloft, recalling another circle, far away, atop a dead plateau, a circle bounded about by strange writings, a circle facing shattered thrones and buried in the ashes of the dead. "Raheen!"
Gawain flipped the blade in a lazy arc as Morloch extended his hands, and then he plunged the longsword deep into the floor, through the planking at the centre of the circle, and down into the soft rich earth of Juria beneath.
The beam of black light linking the Sword of Justice to the dying wizard suddenly surged, blasting through the wizard's body and back again, to reflect off the weapon's hilt still clutched by Gawain, now on his knees, staring at Morloch.
"Gawain!" Elayeen cried again, Jerryn and Sarek clinging to her, holding her back, while Allazar continued to chant, raising a protective glow around the centre of the circle.
There was a sudden stillness as Gawain closed his eyes, and then he opened them, and the trapped energy of strange aquamire held within the blade and himself blasted from the hilt of the longsword and ripped into the shimmering cloud, smashing into Morloch, blasting him back into the wall of his stone tower far beyond the Teeth.
Gawain sighed as the shimmering image rippled, watching as Morloch, like himself, now on his knees, stared back at him in shock, and pain, and fear…
"Impossible…" Morloch gasped, a black liquid oozing from his mouth. "…It cannot be! You cannot be Raheen!"
The image faded, and was gone, and all was silent, the air filled with the smell of oceans.
For a few long moments, Gawain held the longsword's hilt, his eyes closed, listening to sounds of alarm from without as anxious honour-guards hammered on the chamber's doors to gain entry.
"Gawain…" Elayeen sobbed.
He opened his eyes, and gazed up at her, his eyes steel-gray and clouded with pain from the burning in his hands, and reflecting almost silver in the light shining from the polished steel blade he held buried in the floor.
"I live." he breathed, and both Jerryn and Sarek released their grip.
Elayeen took a faltering pace forward, her hand reaching towards him, as Crowns stood, weapons in hand, surveying the carnage wrought within the chamber. Honour-guards of all races stood side-by-side with weapons cocked, eyes swinging this way and that.