Gamma_Psi

Arthur looks confused as Cal jumps off the building, but hears his words through the shadows and replies through them as well.

"Now what's with all the hostility, big man? When have I ever been anything but helpful to you? I helped you get the old man back before, and never once betrayed you. Don't think of me as an enemy just because Mother was-- I never asked to be created, and I sure as hell never made a decision to feed on soul energy. Aim your threats elsewhere, since they don't mean anything to me; I don't feel pain, so fear is a bit alien to me." He snickers, apparently amused by his words. "Besides, I have neither bollocks nor a stomach for you to pull them through, but feel free to pull my shadowstuff through my shadowstuff."

Looking back to Mykal, he inclines his head. "I'm not asking for some patchwork corpse to shamble around in, and I don't intend to possess anyone-- if I wanted to do that, I'd have dealt with the Circle jerks." Pausing, he refocuses on the hadows. "Hear that, big man? No interest in stealing a body. I want my own substance to become flesh so that I can be happy. I want to live, not just exist. How is it wrong to want to feel things you have memories of, but can't experience?"

"For the meantime, this syn-whatever suit sounds spiffy. I'd have done this even if you'd told me to go to Hell, to be honest. As you say, if we don't work together on this, I won't even exist anymore. The world is on the verge of falling into a Darkness so deep even shadows will be destroyed." He takes a seat on the ruined Titan and sprawls out lazily.

"For the record, thanks for not just telling me to go to Hell." He lays down on one side and props his head up on one arm, seeming at times to disappear in its shadow. "Now, about the business at hand. Big things are brewing... bigger than Mother ever even saw coming. Nimue knew, but then she was just waiting for Mother to fail. She thought she could fix Mother's mistakes, or rather my interference, but it seems the Circle's mages can muck with the winds of fate."

The shadowy construct pauses, playing with dusky filaments he pulls from the surface of his resting place while the gravity of his words sinks in. "Mother was giving the Circle items of tremendous power, at least compared to what the Circle already possessed, supposedly in exchange for their aid in returning Avalon to the physical world. The truth was, she knew they'd doublecross her the first chance they got, because they don't want the pantheon of the Celts coming back any more than the Pope does. So, she hatched a plan to capture the Envoy of Shadows (which involved me consuming him and her toting the me that would no longer be me back to Avalon.) Mother thought she could control me through fear; yes, her I was afraid of-- she could have unmade me at any time and liked reminding me of that-- but I didn't want to become a demon or have a demon become me, because evil is stupid; being evil means never trusting anyone, like Mother-- like the me everyone sees." He looks off into the distance almost wistfully, the shadows going still.

"I told them what her plan was through the shadows, hoping by some miracle they'd kill her. They didn't though; hurt her badly, sure, but she survived and limped home to Avalon. Nimue was waiting with the same spell she'd used to trap Merlin, bolstered by the Sisters-- Mother's sisters." He sits up, his face becoming solemn. He lifts his face and one hand to the sky, placing the other on his chest and intones, "So ended the undeservedly long life of Morgain, Modron, the Morrigan, [censored] queen of Avalon and former goddess. Her father and husbands won't be happy, but they can't do a damned thing about it."

Returning to a more subdued pose, he places his hands behind his back and begins pacing. "Now the problem begins here: the Circle still needs more trinkets to pull off their big plan. By big plan, I mean some sort of end of the world scenario. Mother thought you Paladin types were her only impediment to resurrecting the Old Ones, so I figured you might be able to stop the Circle's plan, too. You guys have that whole destiny thing working for you, and apparently not even Mother knew what you were up to when the glowstick wasn't sharing." He stopped his pacing, staring straight at Mykal. "You're wildcards, you Paladins-- no one knows what the future holds for you except that when the "end of the world" comes, you'll be there. No one even knows whether or not you'll stop it, only that you'll be there. Anyway," he says, resuming his pacing, "the only way they're going to get the magic they need to finish whatever it is they're doing, is by going to Avalon to get it. I've been spying on them off and on, and from what I gather they've figured out a way to open a portal straight there using the magical signature on the items they already have."

He stops pacing and inflates his chest cartoonishly. Releasing a great sigh, he deflates like a baloon, laying on the ground like a discarded rag. "So," he says, only his mouth inflating, "any questions? Please keep the threats to a minimum... I don't know how much time we have left."

So... the point? Is Jack dead? Was Jack schizophrenic? Did Jack save the tall, stocky man with his powers? Kind of hard to give an opinion without an actual story to comment on. The writing itself is okay, if a bit boring... is that what you want?

Henry looks flustered. His eyes go wide and he throws his hands up in exasperation.

"Don't you think I would go to Avalon and learn the truth of this if I could?! I haven't been able to just portal my way around since I lost my old power. I always had to depend on someone on the Isle to let me through the mists-- that's as far as I can go. No one will let me in, now, so the only way there is through the Glastonbury portal. I haven't gone because I didn't want to abandon the Order so soon after reappearing."

Suddenly, Henry seems on edge, scanning the air around them for... something. "We're being watched."

From all directions, or possibly no direction, a hollow voice is heard. "Yes. Watched. Heard. You guys don't think like your enemies, and that'll be your downfall some day. Oh, hi Dad." The voice drawls the word 'dad' with palpable disdain.

Henry closes his eyes, no longer searching for the source of the sound. He knows now it's coming from every shadow on the rooftop. "What do you want, construct? We have no need of your interruptions here." Henry flares up angrily, the flames roaring around him in a white hot conflagration.

"Jeez... Talk about parenting issues," the voice laughs sardonically. "Seriously, your boss has questions. I have answers. Besides, you owe me, glowstick."

Mykal looks confused and wary, rotating this way and that while observing readouts on his gauntlet. Cal nudges Henry. "He's right, lad. He helped me get ye back from th' mists. Don't be doin' nothin' stupid ta repay 'im, though."

The voice laughs, the sound grating and wicked. "Come on, now... is that a way to talk about your new ally? Things need to be said... things about the Circle. Things about old gods. Things about the end of the world. But I'm sure as hell not going to keep talking like this. You want info? I want to come back to the physical world. That means you have to step into the mists, old man. You can stand at the edge and listen in, but I want to see the sun before I continue. Your call." The voice falls silent, though the shadows seem more alive with every passing moment.

Mykal looks at Henry, his eyes seeming to say 'it's your decision.' "I'm not getting any readings that would indicate we can't handle this... whatever."

Henry looks at his friends and sighs. "If I'm not back as soon as he's gone, see Azuria. I taught her how to access the mists on the offchance that I might be captured again." With that, the flames die down and his costume changes from its current red and yellow configuration to his older blue and white. He raises his hands and concentrates, mist rising from his feet and billowing about him, and then he is gone, though the mist clings to the rooftop.

"Alright, construct. Come out into the open."

The hollow laugh returns, growing more substantive with each passing second. Shadows ooze and slink across the rooftop, lending their gray power to the slowly coalescing form of the Scion of Shadow. "I'm free! I'm sort of whole! I'm... not standing on anything," he cackles, realizing he's misjudged the location of the rooftop. "Crap."

As he falls the 22 stories to the alley below, he laughs maniacally.

*crash* *crunch* *REEEOWRRRRR*

Mykal raises an eyebrow, looking over the edge of the building at their supposed helper. Cal laughs uproariously, his huge frame convulsing in a fit of mirth. Henry can be heard snickering distantly.

Far below the rooftop, the shadowy figure stands and dusts himself off, chuckling to himself. "Way to make a first impression, genius. Now I need to eat something..." He looks past the mouth of the alley and spies a couple of Hellions mugging an old lady.

"Hey girls," he shouts, "that purse clashes with your vests!"

The Hellions turn to him, dumb confidence in their eyes. Arthur looks like a walking corpse, having twisted his substance fitfully in the fall. "Well, are we going to play, or what?" he asks, attempting to straighten himself a bit. He flexes his shadowstuff and appears to grow large and terrifying. The Hellions grow rigid with fear. "Time for supper, dimwits."

He extends his shadowy essence toward the quivering villains, enveloping them for a brief moment, then pulls it back into himself, completing a circuit which leaves them weakened and fills his form back out. They each attempt to shoot at him with tiny, ineffective pistols their arms seem suddenly unable to lift, their shots hitting harmlessly at his feet and spraying him with concrete dust. He walks over to them and calmly knocks them out, simultaneously alerting the prison teleport system of their apprehension, then walks back to the base of the building where the Paladins have gathered. He walks inside, unnoticed by the guards, and proceeds to trudge up 22 flights of stairs to the roof.

"Pardon my delay; had to grab a bite," Arthur says dismissively, parking himself atop the ruined Titan in a position facing the rising sun. "We can talk as soon as the sun's up. I don't want to miss it."

Cal and Mykal exchange confused looks, but stand motionless, awaiting his resumed animation. Finally, the sun fully rises and he stands and turns to them. "So, here's the deal. I help you, you help me. My needs are not so terrible, to be honest. As you've probably noticed, I'm not human. I want to be; I want to feel things and eat real food. I want to breathe. I want to need sleep. So, I will tell you everything you could ever want to know about Mother's plans and what's goin on in Avalon, and you help me become human. I don't care if it takes magic, science, extradimensional alien energy or the realignment of the planets-- that's all I want. Deal?"

Henry sighs heavily as the flames from his eyes die down. He sits back down heavily as he regains a more relaxed composure.

"This is all rather silly. Firstly, Glastonbury was mistakenly identified as Avalon. In reality, there was a portal there for those sensitive enough to find it which lead to Avalon, but the actual physical place is known now as Bardsey."

He cracks his neck as he continues, allowing the tension to dissipate from his shoulders. He looks tired and a bit annoyed as he continues.

"Secondly, I'm a bit insulted that you would even insinuate that I must be descended from that haughty godling, Afallach. His destruction at the hands of his daughters was what saved the Isle itself from the wrath of the One God. He thought to challenge for the souls of departed Celts, but the Sisters saw with clearer eyes. When reasoning with him failed, they had little choice but to gather their power with Morgain and obliterate him. This happened not too long after I was born-- perhaps 2 years at most-- but that is an event which burns its import into even the youngest of minds."

"Furthermore, I am not, nor have I ever been, scion to the royal family of Avalon. I was the scion of the power of the Isle itself-- the essential power of the place. Conceived when Avalon was still at the height of its power, I was somehow changed by it-- I was born with an unparalleled command of it in its raw form. Others could learn to shape the magic to accomplish their ends, but I could tap the font directly. Had something happened to the Queens and the Sisters, I would have been the only one who could touch it, and so I was declared its scion and protector. The entirety of the fey races on the Isle could have been exterminated, but as long as I was there the magic would continue to exist."

Running his fingers through his hair, a wry smile finds his lips.

"It could be that I do have a distant blood claim to the throne, though," he says as he reveals his ears for the first time-- ears with a very slight upsweep. "Mother had a bit of the fey in her; it may even have facilitated my link to the land."

Letting the hair fall back in place, Henry stands and clasps his hands behind his back.

"Now I need to know, Mykal; why this questioning? Silly historical inaccuracies aside, surely you had some point to this other than making me angry, and I'd really like to hear it."

...not your father... The words echo in Henry's mind, filling him with a righteous fury. The air around him begins to swirl and heat, quickly reaching a suffocating swelter. His eyes narrow and his lips thin, his mouth barely moves when he speaks.

"Tread lightly, Mykal; I know you mean well, but to challenge my lineage is an insult of the highest order. Keep in mind 2 things as you explain yourself: Scion also means 'heir' and was applied in that regard, and unless you wish to adopt the 5 point elemental model of the old ways and accept it as spiritual energy, the light of Avalon which I once wielded does not fall within the realm of elements. Also, Nimue is the second most powerful of the Queens, and if she had somehow managed to seal Morgain away it would be trivial for her to assume control."

Passing leaves are drawn into the vortex of blistering currents surrounding Henry and incinerated in their last brilliant moment of existence, ash beginning to show the outline of his twisting, airy aura.

"So much has been revealed to me, of late-- so much taken away-- and now you wish to strip me of my name-- my very flesh and blood! I will listen to your words, brother, but tread lightly; my last revelation sent me on a quest for death and death I nearly found. Death no longer pulls at me, but my lust for life may be as dangerous. I am unstable, Mykal... tread lightly..."

Henry's eyes disappear behind a flood of steam, angry tears welling up and evaporating as rapidly as they appear. The air around him calms, leaving a ring of soot around his feet. The steam pouring from his eyes is replaced by sanguine flames as his face sets in an inhuman passiveness not seen since he first arrived in England. Henry folds his arms and stands motionless, his chest no longer rising and falling in respiration.

"I am prepared to hear your theory, Servant 12."

"I expected no less, and I find no fault in your decision. I have shown a tendency for unreliability for most of the time we've known each other, thanks to the scheming of Avalon. But I am through with Avalon, and it is apparently through with me. I once was able to prove myself to you, and I will do so again."

Turning to Cal, he shrugs. "I've been in my apartment in Steel Canyon. I've alternated between watching television, eating pizza and feeling sorry for myself. It's best if I start from the beginning."

Henry fills in the Paladins regarding his dealings with Avalon, leaving out no detail.

"So... anyone have enough pull with City Hall to get my name changed? It feels like I'm wearing a fool's costume whenever someone refers to me as the Scion of Avalon now."

Henry flies toward Mykal's building, a temporary meeting place until their headquarters are constructed. As he approaches, he sees the massive frame of Caladbolg sitting atop the even more massive frame of some metal monstrosity.

Slowing himself for the landing, Henry extinguishes his aura. "Hey there, big man; long time no see. I know I've missed a lot these past months, but hopefully I can make up for lost time."

Henry motions to the severely damaged robot. "Interesting chair you've got there... how'd you get it up here?"

Bolstered by the fact that he hadn't been shut down outright, Henry stands and begins walking to the closet.

"I'll be there, Brother."

Looking through the closet, his first instinct is to don his formal armor, though it seems now to be more a symbol of his failure of character. This was the old me... lost in the need to be powerful. Had I never accepted this "gift," I would likely be much better off. Still... it has revealed to me the truth of my power and the truth of the four queens.

Henry... The Scion of Avalon... it seemed morbidly funny now, knowing that he had been used in a power struggle between the mystics of Avalon and the One God. Fate had a strange way of leading him to the truth, but now that he knew it all he would never truly have a place anywhere but with the Millenium Paladins.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The truth had come in small increments-- pieces in a puzzle the queens never thought he could assemble. First came the attack at the hotel after he had first met Mykal, a fireball erupting through the window, setting the room ablaze. His powers at the time were insufficient to quench the flames, so he had called upon a connection to the land-- something the Sisters had attempted to teach him but he had never used.
Water burst from the pipes in the room, and in a gust of wind the blaze was doused; Covenant, as he was called at the time, died in that moment. Henry passed out from the effort and when he woke he was a very changed man, his connection to the elements apparently permanent.

He spent the next few months accustoming him self to his new abilities and then, just as he had found peace in who he had become, Morgain had shown up to gift him with an enchanted suit of armor. He should have turned it down, but the promise of a return to his former power was too great... and he trusted her. With the armor on, he could once again enter the fray with the best of fighters, his aura and blade returned to him. The armor was enchanted in another way, as well, though he didn't understand it at the time; it urged him into battle-- turned off his rational thought and made him think only of defeating his enemies. That battle fury had led him to do something unthinkable, killing an innocent in a blind rage-- or at least he had thought so at the time.

The thought that he had been tricked into killing an innocent brought out the full force of the armor's magic; his rage built to a point where there was no right or wrong-- only victory or defeat-- and he called upon any power available to him to defeat his tormentor, an eidolon who called herself the "Mistress of Shadows." This was yet another turning point-- a piece to be pondered-- for at the time the most abundant power available was darkness. His Aunt had planned this, of course, though she expected it to be a bit more permanent than it was.

After a bit of wickedness and bit of brooding, Henry sloughed the darkness and in its place found something he thought he'd never see again: a blazing aura. At the time he attributed this return to his former brilliance to a plea he'd sent out to the Sisters of Avalon, especially considering a spectral visitation from his "mother", but he would learn it was not so. The entire situation had been an illusion crafted by his Aunt in order to tease out his inner darkness and gain in him an incomparable ally in her schemes, but she had not expected him to break free of the negative energy he had absorbed. In the end, she ended up with a sub-par imitation birthed from the power-charged darkness Henry had left behind-- the so-called Scion of Shadow-- and even he could not be controlled.

Henry, still believing in the inherent goodness of Avalon-- even after his Aunt trapped him for a time in the mists-- had renewed his efforts against the forces of wickedness because of this incident, rapidly gaining power reminiscent of his former glory. He still doffed the armor on occasion and used his elemental abilities to aid his allies, but it was in the armor that he felt truly alive. Until the day he met the Incineratrix.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She was young and powerful, boasting an array of fire abilities not unlike Starblaze, but her power felt different-- familiar. She asked for his help in defeating a band of Vahzilokand he gladly joined her, never tiring of releasing those poor reanimated souls and punishing their makers. When all was finished and they had made their eay outside she said the most peculiar thing, "She was right; you are too powerful. They'll never control you without her."

Confused, but on guard suddenly, Scion cocked his head to one side. "I beg your pardon, milady, but it seems you know more of me than I of you. Would you be so kind as to explain that statement? I'd rather this didn't turn violent as I prefer not to harm beautiful things." He formed a blade and leaned on it with both hands, prepared for either eventuality.

"Nimue told me about you. I'm her great-great-great-moregreatshere foster grandaughter. Or something like that. Lancelot du Lac is somewhere on my family tree, and she came looking for me because of my power. She said she was looking for an heir to the power of Avalon because the last heir wasn't working out. She said you were too headstrong and too 'male,' whatever that means. It's nothing personal, but she's in charge now, so she made me the new heir. You can keep the name, though-- it's kinda lame." She spoke in rapid fire chatter as she hovered in random directions, obviously a bit nervous.

Henry's jaw dropped. "Nimue is the Queen of Queens?! What happened to my Aunt?!" He couldn't believe that she would just step down so swiftly after he had escaped her last trap.

"She was helping the Circle of Thorns and they double crossed her, so when she came back home weakened this one time the other women sealed her up in a crystal cave or something. She said that without Morgain to control you, you were 'lost to them' so they needed a new heir. Please don't hold it against me... I'm really not a bad person, and I never knew my family so I couldn't say no!" She was growing increasingly agitated, little spurts of flame streaking out from her at random.

Henry dismissed his sword and sat down heavily on some nearby steps. "Calm yourself, milady. Sit. Talk with me; we have much to say to one another, it seems."

Over the course of several hours, he got the energetic young woman to reveal everything she knew: he had a "son" of sorts who went by the name Arthur, also known as the Scion of Shadow, who had betrayed Morgain because of a disagreement they had; he wanted her to give him solid flesh rather than the semi-solid state he existed in, so she froze him solid. Needless to say, he didn't appreaciate that, so when he accompanied her to a meeting with several dozen representative mages from the Circle of Thorns he told them that she was secretly planning to capture the Envoy of Shadows when next he appeared and was only using them to get close to him. A battle ensued in which all the mages were destroyed, Arthur vanished, and Morgain was greatly weakened. In her weakened state, the other Queens had no trouble confining her.

They thought she was rushing things in their quest to return Avalon to the physical world in defiance of the One God, but had been powerless to stop her from operating however she pleased until that day. She had even revealed to Henry, who she was supposed to be manipulating, that she was planning something big. So, without her to bend him to her will, they needed a new heir-- one who was not as concerned with old Covenants.

In addition to this information, she revealed to him that the armor he wore was completely non-magical now, the enchantment having been destroyed when he summoned his own power to throw off the darkness.
Here, the pieces fell into place. He had been manipulated since the day he first left Avalon; he was led to this very moment, most likely. He could only guess that this was the Sisters' attempt at a farewell.

His power was his own, every step of the way; in Avalon he had merely attuned to the magic of the place and learned to bend it to his will; when he needed the ability to douse the fire, he had to reattune himself to the wind and water and couldn't change his power back because there was no magical energy to attune to; when he was in the sewers and had needed power, he naturally attuned to the most abundant source: darkness. The most interesting bit in all of this, though, was his last attunement... he was attuned to nothing more than his own desire. His power was truly his, and no one in Avalon could ever take that away from him.

When they parted, he was more than a little disheartened. "I thank you for your candidness, milady. It was certainly unexpected, but I can live with these developments. I wish you luck in all your endeavors, and may you not be used and tossed aside as I seem to have been." He turned and leaped away, a gout of flame rocketing him forward, never once looking back at the woman who had taken his place in the universe.

The next few weeks were a blur. He didn't eat or sleep at all. He didn't need those things; his power sustained him. Weeks of nothing but fighting and fighting and more fighting passed as though they were minutes, and then the daze wore off. He was alone on a street in Founder's Falls, surrounded by a pile of charred Rikti corpses. They were most certainly dead, and he was facing a portal through which still more were coming. He didn't know how long he'd been there, but the pile around him was getting deep, the Rikti choosing to trample their fallen colleagues to get at him. He was wearing a costume much like the one he wore when he used his weather controlling abilities, though red and orange rather than blue and white-- and it was shredded-- revealing that he was bleeding from at least a dozen large wounds. He called on his healing abilities as he took this information in, only to find that he was far too exhausted. The Rikti closed in and everything went dark.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When he woke in the hospital several days had passed. The doctors told him that he should stay in bed for at least a weak, as his body had sustained massive trauma. "It's a miracle you even woke up," one told him.

He did as he was told. He stayed on at the hospital for observation for a few more days, doing nothing but replaying the battle he had woken to. It was no accident that he had been fighting the Rikti for so long when he could have simply destroyed the portal. He had either been trying to die, or trying to bring out a power he no longer had. Perhaps both.

Coming to this realization, he felt somewhat numb; he was never going to be as powerful as once he had been... Avalon was lost to him, and he had almost died trying to prove he was still powerful enough. He wasn't powerful enough. When he was the Covenant, invading armies fell in his wake. Now... a handful of invaders nearly killed him.

When he left the hospital, he left by way of taxi, unable to summon the energy to run, leap or fly. His body felt leaden; his movements sluggish. When he arrived at his apartment building, the doorman had to check his ID; this was the first time he'd ever come in through the door. He took the elevator to the 7th foor and trudged down the hallway to his nearly empty studio apartment. It looked like he felt. Three colorless, lifeless months passed before he stepped outside again.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I think I'll go with the spandex... I need to stretch my legs, he thinks, gathering a belt and boots to match. I still can't believe I actually bummed around here this long. Oh well, at least I learned about television and the internet.

Fully dressed less than a minute after speaking to Mykal, Henry stretches, stifling a yawn. He knows it takes me less than 5 minutes to cross the entire city, so I'll guess he needs time to prepare.

Well... he thinks, opening a window, this looks like a nice day for a flight around the park. I don't do that enough anymore. I'll only be 5 minutes early after that.

Henry Pendragon, the Scion of Avalon in name alone, smiles. It's going to be a good day.

Henry swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. His pride almost refused to let him speak, but this was what had to be done.

"Forgiveness, Brother. I've felt so powerless these past months... I couldn't bear to tell anyone at the time. Some odd malady came over me, and I could barely summon the energy to wake most days. At first I tried to return to the way of the sword as I had in my younger years-- before my power developed-- but it was useless in the end. I succumbed to a life-draining apathy and hid, unable to face the world, much less my Brothers."

"In my darkest hours, I thought that I might beg for a return to Avalon, there to hide for all time-- the whipping boy of false destiny. Then I came to realize why I was so lost-- my obsession with power had totally overcome me, and my inability to amass power enough to rival my past strength pushed me into depression."

Henry took a sip of water, noting Mykal's silence. He had to finish this before he lost his nerve.

"I've never been depressed before... it was something so new I couldn't even recognize it; I had to read about it on the "Internet." This whole time, I've been causing my own weakness simply because I believed deep down that I was weak. Perhaps I am, strictly from a power standpoint, but I have resolve now that I couldn't have known before. No longer will I worry about being powerful-- from now on, I just have to remember to be myself."

"So I ask only this, Brother-- for a brother to me you have been-- forgive me. My pride is gone, and in its place I hope nobility can grow."

Henry sat down, drained emotionally. It was all out on the table now, and no matter what happened now his life would change-- hopefully for the better.

Henry fidgets with his communicator, trying to remember the correct sequence of buttons to push to contact the Paladins.

It's been so long since I last checked in. It would serve me right if I was on my own now, but I hope it's not too late. This strange malaise has kept me out of the fight for far too long.

Finally remembering the proper codes, Henry keys his communicator. "Mykal... it's Henry. I'm back."

The important question: When these inspirations wake you up, will they give you time to get some sort of status protection up so the next 842 holds/sleeps/disorients coming at you don't immediately make said inspiration worthless?

I think there's some sort of DE/5th crossover thing, though I've only gotten it on the character who can't get arcs anymore. I've heard others say the same.

Hopefully not until October 3rd. Anytime before then, I'll just have to read about it

Little tips:

1) Understand what your characters are feeling; it makes it a lot easier to describe. Let the audience get inside the characters' heads, and they'll fall into the story as though it was a movie.

2) Be as descriptive as you can, but everything you describe should have significance to the story. If the way the wind is blowing is important, talk about it... tell the audience what it smells like, how hard it's blowing and what's being kicked up/blown around by it.

3) Always use a thesaurus and a spellchecker of some sort, even if the spellchecker is just you proofreading carefully. The thesaurus will keep you from having to say things like, "It was hot outside, and the barrel of the gun was getting hot. If it got any hotter it might melt." (Okay, that was deliberately bad, but you get the idea )

4) Like Mordaris said, don't be afraid to put it down and work on it later. On the same token though, if you've got a really good idea bouncing around, jot it down in the simplest language you can and flesh it out later. When you read back over something, resist the urge to re-write the whole thing (I'd likely have a whole novel by now if I could keep to this one )

From the Millenium Paladins' yahoo group:

Scion had been missing for some time now, and it wasn’t like the
young man to just go missing without telling anyone. Cal stood high atop a
skyscraper in Independence Port, and thought about his missing friend.
Despite the guy was a little off his rocker at times, with a ‘My lady this,
and Sir blah that’, he was polite to the point of being sick. He decided
that it was time for him to go looking for Scion when a brush of something
touched his mind, and caused him to frown. Cal wasn’t quite sure what it was
but it was angry as well as familiar. Without further thought, Cal propels
himself from the roof top, and flies through the sky with the powerful push
of his inhumanly strong legs.

*Heh, I love this…* He thinks to himself.

The dark feeling gets stronger the closer he gets to Perez Park,
and Cal can only think that the Circle of Thorns are up to something again.
Stepping through the heavily guarded entrance, Cal is greeted with the
oddest sight he’s seen since he’s been here, Scion in an all black outfit,
and looking very moody.

“Hey Bro, ye lookin’ different…” and right as he says it, Cal
knows that this isn’t Scion, but some darker facsimile. “Eh, hold up, boyo.
Ye ain’t Scion, but I’m thinkin’ ye know where he’s at?”

The dark figure gives a humorless grin, and nods his head “That
I do. My ‘father’ is in a safe place right now, but I can talk him to you
for a price.” A small pause, and the dark Scion continues “I’ve been having
some problems in assisting my mother, Morgaine, and if you help me I will
help you.”

“Is that right?” Cal rumbles, “Since I ain’t got nuthin’ better
ta do, and I’m lookin’ fer Scion any ways… let’s party.” As he flexes his
muscles, though, Cal adds “If yer thinkin’ o’ settin’ a trap, or Scion ain’t
all there when I get there… you and I are gonna have words. Ye got that,
lad?”

Without comment, dark Scion leads Cal through the forests of
Perez Park, and a darkened cave entrance from which he can hear the shouts
of combat. Quirking a brow, Cal asks “So, what’s this ‘bout? I’m t’inkin’
it’s a stroll in the park, but I’d like ta know.”

Dark Scion responds, “Be wary of my own power, Big Man, I am not
as weak as you might think. Be that as it may, there are two individuals in
here who have been the first to defeat me. Caution may be prudent.”

“Oh, is that right, lady?” Cal smirks, and cracks his neck with
a sound like a tree trunk breaking, “Ye lead me ta ‘em, and I’ll fix yer
problem…” Then with a snort as he travels down the cave entrance, he adds
“Ye still aint tellin’ me what’s this ‘bout.”

“Let us just say that my mother wishes the Hellions to not win
this one, and I enjoy causing people a bit of pain.” Dark Scion responded as
his own dark magic began to surround him, “There is nothing quite so sweet
as the taste of fresh souls.”

The battle to come was as quick as it was brutal, and Cal
personally beat both the leaders of the Skulls who were invading the
Hellions turf, and the Hellion leader. As he drug the unconscious bodies of
the defeated foes outside, Cal said “My part o’ the deal is up, now it’s yer
turn…” With a nod, dark Scion replied “You are correct, Big Man, and quite
the show you have put on. I’m sure the Hellions will think twice before
stealing any more artifacts from my mother. So, as promised, here is the
path to where your friend is held.” With that said, a portal of shadow
formed, and within it a mist could be seen leaking out.

“Eh, ye never said why ye were helpin’ me? I thinkin’ yer mother
aint gonna be so happy when she finds out ye helped me free Scion.” Cal
grunts out as he strolled toward the portal. Dark Scion words echoed forth
as Cal crosses into the land of mist, “Well, sometimes it’s fun to let
mother have her way all the time.”

Then, without any further thought, Cal plunges himself into the
mist, and doesn’t think twice about it being a trap. He’s gotten himself out
of other situations, probably worse, before and he’s still here to tell the
tale. Just when Cal thinks he’s made a bad choice, he can see Scion circled
by his own hurricane, and Cal shouts “Hey Bro, looks like yer a bit under
the weather…” Trudging through the high winds, Cal unceremoniously lifts
Scion up, and plops him on his shoulder “Let’s go, Bro. Ye got some explain’
ta do….”

Flying through the murky mist which serves as his portal between Earth and Avalon, Covenant has plenty of time to recount his recent troubles. His heart swells with questions he must ask of the Sisters, and their urgency speeds him on.

So many strange things... my loss of control in the sewers, my subsequent emergence as the blazing avenger of the innocent... the appearance of my mother's spirit. I cannot help but feel I am being led upon some path I do not understand. On this past trip to the world of men, I have once again recovered the magical cloak called Bonefire from the clutches of the Skulls-- those odd death-worshiping villains. This time, however, it has not ended with the return of the cloak to the proper authorities; they have begun attacking me when I least expect it, even though they must invade the chosen homes of other gangs. This too seems like a corraling of sorts... but where am I ultimately being led to?

Covenant pushes himself forward, manipulating the mist more skillfully than once he could have.

Truly, my command of Avalon's power is growing. Upon a time, the Sisters' direct intervention was needed to transport me from one realm to another. Now, it seems, I am able to come and go as I please; my own mist has become as one with the mist which protects my home.

"Not so fast, young one. You'll not be steppping foot upon the Isle this day," comes a familiar voice through the warm fog. "I've things to tend to, and I can't have them interrupted just yet." Morgain appears as though being molded from the mist-- her diaphanous white gown most surely is.

"Aunt Morgain. I thought your work was afoot, though it is unhappily that I learn I was correct. What is your plan? Will you simply keep me here, that I may not add my power to the struggles of the world of men?" Covenant crosses his arms, hovering as effortlessly as his aunt. "What makes you think you can stop me from entering my home, anyway? The power of the Blessed Isle is as my arm or leg... as easily as I walk may I enter through the mist."

Morgain laughs breathily. "Silly boy... you are the heir, but I am the Queen." She smiles a taunting smile, a mischievous glint in her almondine eyes. "If you think you can enter without my say, you've something new to learn this day," she giggles musically.

Covenant smiles. He had always liked Aunt Morgain, even though she teased him constantly as a boy. Her power was truly the greater between them, but never had he let that stop him-- he enjoyed this game. Summoning a swirling vortex of wind about him, he launches himself at her. If it this was but a projection given form by the mist, his hurricane would perhaps break her concentration and allow him to pass. As he approaches, the vaporous vision begins to pull toward the hurricane, becoming nothing but more air to feed its frenzied spin. Morgain's whispering laughter can be heard in the whistle of the flowing wind.

"Hah! Your power wanes as my own waxes, milady Aunt. As the victor, I shall now take my spoils in the form of a homecoming!" Covenant releases the swirling wind from his control, only to find that they swirl on without his urging. "What foolishness is this? Though the wind may not disperse, I can easily remove myself from its presence," he chuckles as he begins flying up and out of the center of the spin... or tries to, as he finds himself stationary.

The face of his Aunt appears on the surface of the churning winds about his waist, smiling that same taunting smile. "I told you, dear boy: I am the Queen. The Mist of Avalon obeys only me unless I wish it otherwise, and you feed your powers with my Mist. I'm sure you can reason it out from there, love," she laughed, reforming as a translucent maid before him. "Your very own construct shall keep you here until I wish it otherwise, and then you shall go free. Don't look so glum... the world survived without you for over a millenium; I'm certain it will keep until I am done setting my plans more fully in motion." With that, she turned away, disintegrating into the mist once more.

Covenant crossed his arms once more and hung his head.

Again, I am a prisoner, but now it is within my own realm. She speaks the truth, of course... the mist gave substance to my hurricane, and it appears her mastery of the mist is total. Perhaps in time, my mere proximity to the Isle will be enough to alert the Sisters to my predicament. They may not be Aunt Morgain's individual equals, but as a combined force, they are nothing short of power personified. I must wait, and endure the knowledge that her wicked plans are in progress, though I may do nothing to hinder them for now.

Slowly, Covenant begins sending out tendrils of the Light of Avalon, hoping he has enough residual power to make his presence known.

So there you have it. I'm a bad good guy. Maybe a good bad guy. Whatever... I eat the souls of bad guys... call it what you like. Don't get me wrong; nobody I feed from dies, but they will never get rid of the nightmares.

As far as making the common man fear me, well I don't think that's working. It seems they're used to you freaks smashing, burning, freezing, etc. the bad guys. I suck the life out of a buncha guys wearing face paint, stare menacingly (I think it's menacing... isn't black energy oozing from my eyes menacing?) at their former victim, and what happens?! She gives me a damned hug! I don't want hugs! I want her to run in terror! I'm scarrier than the idiot with a baseball bat!

I haven't seen mother since she left me at City Hall. I'm not sure what her plan was anymore, and I'm not sure I care; I've got my own plan. Somehow, some way, I'm gonna get warm. With all the wierd crap in this city, making me flesh should be easy enough... I just have to figure out how.

So, if you can help me become a real boy, just let me know. Otherwise, if you see me coming down the street, do me a favor: scream loudly and run away. I have an image to protect.

"Impressive display for one yet so young," said Morgain, stepping through a shadowy rift in the dank air of the sewer. She had just felt Covenant make the transition back to the Otherworld, so she felt safe revealing herself. "It seems he's managed to keep a little of the power of Avalon locked within himself, despite his wanderings."

Hovering above the green water, her royal attire held aloft seemingly by invisible attendants, Queen Morgain floated to a corner of the room far from the platform where Covenant had banished his personal darkness. Holding up a man-shaped silhouette in her left hand, she summoned a globe of light in her right and began the man-shadow across the surface of the water.

Suddenly, the shadow refused to move with her backlit silouette, as though it had become stuck to the water. "Ah, there you are," she whispered, a playful smile touching her lips. "Wake up, shadow of my nephew... We've things to talk about." Positioning her hands over the area of man-shadow, she willed her power into it. "Take of my life to make yourself whole, shadow... Become my son and the heir to my knowledge!"

Slowly, the churning muck beneath her turned a decidedly darker color and began to take on a more solid appearance. It bowed up toward her, as though some foul creature lurking beneath the surface was blowing a gigantic black bubble. She rose higher and backed away, willing still more of her power in the growing boil of blackness. "Drink deep of the power of Avalon, my ebon son, and grow strong!" she screamed, a growing madness burning in her eyes.

As the bubble grew to a height of 7 feet and detached from the surface of the water, Morgain laughed madly. Summoning still more of her power, she sent into the sphere a lance of pure white light. The bubble burst into a shower of gray radiance, leaving a man hovering where it had been a moment ago.

His skin was a twilit grey, and his eyes seethed with dark energy. He seemed to exude a darkling aura, bright in its blackness. The room seemed a bit colder for his presence, though even in his newborn nakedness he seemed untouched by the cold.

"My, you look so much like your father... I expected a resemblance, but you are truly a dark parody. The shadow must have touched him even more deeply than I had thought. I'll have to be more careful... Arthur was too close to death for comfort, and we don't want another episode like that." She stared at him, clearly in awe of how perfect the union of her power was with Covenant's. "Truly, I thought the magic of Avalon inherent in the armor would be enough to bring you forth, but his burst of strength seems to have made you his equal in power. Come," she said, beckoning him toward her, "I have knowledge to impart."

He hovered slowly, silently toward her, trailing wisps of shadow all the way. His gaze was locked to her own as he approached and his face betrayed no hint of emotion, but she knew he was frightened and confused. He seemed to have inherited his father's refusal to bow to fear and instead to approach it head on, despite that it could kill him, rather than admit his fear and run.

She smiled warmly, raising her hands to his dusky face. "I shall not harm you, my son... yours is the power to be feared. You are of the Light of Avalon, yet also of the Darkness of Death. Yours is the power of shadow, and in shadow all things are possible. Now, receive the knowledge you are heir to," she said, light enveloping her hands.

Laying her hands alongside his head, the shadow of Henry Pendragon convulsed. His mind was filled with history and language and the mysteries of magic. He knew all the things his mother knew, or so much as she allowed him to know (foremost among the things he knew in that instant: he only knew what she wanted him to.) As the light receded from
her hands, he backed away from her.

"Thank you, mother. Being born fully grown, yet fully dumb... kinda sucked." He smiled, knowing that his use of modern slang would please her. She wanted him to fit in to this world of man as though he belonged, and he wanted to repay her for giving him form. "Before all I could do was be... thinking is much better than just being. I'd say I'm happy to be alive, but you didn't give me that, did you? Happiness, that is." He kept smiling, though never once did it rouch his eyes.

She shook her head sadly. "It was not I who denied you joy, but your father. He cast you away, that he would no longer carry you within himself. You are his rage, his sadness and his hatred. You are the darkness of Henry Pendragon's soul, and will forever be all that he is not." Morgain appeared to be truly saddened by his loss, but he doubted her sincerity.

"I guess I'll just have to kill him, then. Maybe when I absorb his soul I'll get to be all that he was," he said, stretching his arms out to his sides. As he did this, the shadows swirled and gathered to him, cloaking him a cocoon of deepest black. Slowly, the darkness began to cling to his form, coalescing into a blackened parody of the armor gifted to Covenant.

Queen Morgain's eyes widened in surprise. "No! You mustn't attempt such a thing! Already have I lost one son and nearly a brother to such nonsense, and I shall have no more of it!" she screamed at him, her voiced magnified by her power. Echoes resounded from a dozen tunnels, driving home her command.

"You will be as a thorn in his side, but no more! Do justice with your dark power; feed on the souls of those who dare attack you! Strike fear into the hearts of all who see you, make the common man think you are him-- but if you should even be on the same plane at the same time as your father, I shall be forced to lock you in the realm of shadow for all eternity!"

She was seething with rage, due to something so simple as a little death; it made no sense to him. "Fine... No killing dad. I get it. So basically I just get to walk around, starving, until some idiot works up the nerve to attack me? Who could be that stupid?! I'll starve to death if I wait for that."

The anger on her face slowly melted into mirth. She chuckled at first, then laughed uproariously. "Silly boy! The streets of this city are filled with people that stupid!" She broke off, laughing hysterically. "Truth be told, there are hundreds wandering the sewers who would happily attack you, though you sheathe yourself in darkness and retaliate with powers beyond their comprehension! With knives, no less!" She continued laughing as though this were all a great comedy, though he couldn't understand why. In his mind, people insane enough to attack him with a knife were not funny, just pathetic.

"Right, so why are we still here, if the food's out there? This being born and instantly educated stuff is really making me feel a little thin." He raised his breastplate to reveal that he was, in fact, growing somewhat translucent.

"Of course. Come, my son... once you are registered as a hero, you may begin your feast. If you attack anyone before you are registered, you will only be detained longer before you get your fill." Summoning a portal, they stepped into the streets of the city.

"Mother, what am I called? You gave me knowledge, but no name... how am I gonna strike fear into the hearts of men with no name?! 'Oh no, run! It's... That grey guy with the armor!' That just doesn't say mass panic like, say... 'Lord of Doom'."

Morgain laughed quietly. "I do believe hunger is affecting your behavior, boy. As your father was named for his grandfather, so shall you be. Your name shall be Arthur, but you shall be known as the Scion of Shadow, Pact between the way of light and the way of darkness. I think it's most appropriate, don't you?" she asked as she settled into a self-satisfied smile.

"Woohoo! I get to sound like a pompous *** just like dad! Now can we please do this registration thing? I'm fading away, here."

You don't know me. You very likely don't want to know me; I'm not a very nice person. Hell, I don't even know if I qualify as a person, really. Sounds cryptic, doesn't it? Well let me tell you a little about me... but first, you need to know about my parents, if you can call them that.

My father was born around 1500 years ago on a quaint little island called Avalon. His father was the legendary King Arthur and his mother was none other than the Lady Guinevere. Now this name you may know: Covenant, Scion of Avalon. I've never met him, but I hear he's a nice guy. Did I mention I hate him? Well I do.

Anyway, he's heir to the power of Avalon, as you can probably tell by his oh-so-modest name. Mother tells me his being born there linked him to the magic of the place. She also tells me she engineered the whole thing, what with the mortal wounding of my grandfather/uncle by my brother/uncle/cousin (geez... complicated much?) Mordred. She made sure he was wounded so badly he'd have to spend years under the care of the Sisters of Avalon.

So my father, Henry Pendragon, grew up on Avalon. When he was somewhere around 10, the Sisters of Avalon saw that everybody was abandoning the old ways in favor of the Christian god, so they decided the only way to preserve the power of Avalon was to take the magic elsewhere; they broke the physical island away from the spirit of the island and moved the spirit to the Otherworld, some dimension that's neither here nor there, but is open to anyone or anything that doesn't have a rightful place (think limbo, and you'll be close.)

So Covenant stays with the spirit of the island, hoping to learn more about his power, which mother and the other Sisters happily teach him. Oh, did I forget to tell you she'd been Arthur's chief caretaker throughout his recovery? Some people know she's one of the four Queens of Avalon, but just in case you didn't, you do now. Anyway, one day the Sisters receive a vision from God, who apparently holds them in high regard for conceding to His power. It seemed that it was time for Covenant to leave; he had a destiny to get on with.

The Sisters told him all about the vision and gave him a perfect mental image of the man whose lead he needed to follow. So he left, transported through the mist to where he needed to be-- England, as it turned out. He was searching for a man who called himself Servant 12, or who would eventually call himself by that name.

Servant 12 had been called by God to gather 11 heroes beside himself and beat back the growing forces of evil as the Millenium Paladins. (Hey, I'm just using the words mother gave me... No making fun or I'll be forced to eat your soul.) Well, not too long after he found Servant 12, mother set more stuff in motion. She sent a guy to attack them, setting their hotel on fire at the same time. Mother knew that Covenant would have to alter his powers to put the fire out.

After that, she just needed to let him sink into the "woe is me, I don't have god-like power anymore" depression. Predictably, when he began noticing he was defeatable by common thugs, he felt weak (despite the fact that he can wave his hand and send those thugs flying... Some people just don't know power when they see it.) Mother-- who you may have figured out is none other than Morgain Le Fey-- took this opportunity to suggest to the Sisters that they should craft an enchanted suit of armor that would focus his new power into a semblance of the old.

Mother knew something the others didn't, though: she knew how father's power truly worked. He's a conduit of some sort... he has to draw on the power available in his environment. So she put a little something extra into the armor; she made it focus his will to do battle above all else, something the Sisters could not disagree with as it would see him through the harder battles.

It was a simple matter of manipulating a vahzilok woman after that. Covenant was overpowered, blinded by the battle fury, and easily tricked into drawing on the only power around him: the power of darkness. He defeated the eidolon, played with her for a bit (which I wish I could have seen,) then came to the realization that he was being bad. (Boo hoo!)

Oh, the drama of that scene... He threw off the darkness in a blazing display, crying all the while to the Sisters, as though they had anything to do with it. Fact is, he broke mother's hold on the armor, and even she doesn't know how. She thinks he may have tapped the last reserves of his old power to pull it off, but it really doesn't matter-- this is where I come in.

Looking down at the flaming brand in his also flaming hand, Covenant knows his trial is over. He has survived the confrontation with the greatest enemy he has ever faced: himself.

How this has come to be is uncertain, but it stinks of the treachery of my Aunt. I knew it would occur someday, but still it stings. As a child, she was more to me than a teacher-- she was as another mother to me. Aunt Morgan-- forever the adversary; it is her role in the grand scheme, and though I do not begrudge her this role, she shall not claim victory over me.

Covenant allows his blade to dissipate as he sinks toward the steps of Galaxy City's City Hall. Allowing his blazing aura to flare bright for a brief moment, he feels clean... strong.

Looking back over the events of the day, Covenant knows that he has much to atone for. It all started with a routine mission: save those who have been kidnapped by the vahzilok. Simple enough; just run in, disassemble
the robotic zombie servants and arrest the sick men who would create them. Covenant expected it to take no more than an hour, given ample time to replenish his power between battles. Upon entering the sewers, he knew
this was not to be.
_____________________________

As he turned around from replacing the sewer grate, he was immediately confronted by an eidolon-- a smiling eidolon. "Greetings, Scion of Avalon. We have things to discuss, you and I." She beckoned him forward with a crooked finger and began sauntering away.

Covenant threw himself forward, sword held high, prepared to end this cocky villain with no further discussion. Again, he knew this was not to be when he found himself immobilized and weaponless mere inches from the fiend's back.

"Silly boy... you cannot hope to harm me. Perhaps at your full power you could best me, but in this shell of gold you wear you are next to nothing to me. Such beautiful armor," she said as she ran her dessicated fingers across the celtic knotwork etched into the breastplate. "It will serve us better once we get it dirty." She turned and began walking away
again, but this time Covenant was compelled to follow.

"I know not what villainous plan you refer to, but nothing of the Blessed Isle shall serve the likes of you. The power of Avalon is sanctified by the One God, for the Sisters of Avalon knew his was the true power and willingly receded from the world of man. To invoke the wrath of the power of Avalon is to call down the very legions of heaven," Covenant yelled, his face growing red with rage.

"Does everyone in Avalon talk so much? Is that the power you speak of? If so, I'm all aquiver with fear," the eidolon laughed. "Now be silent, or your tongue will be the first of your parts we remove."

As if her words carried the approval of his body, Covenant found himself unable to speak for the rest of the journey. They spent the better part of an hour trekking through multitudinous tunnels-- so many, Covenant knew he had no hope of trying to escape. He would have to rely on his friends, the Millenium Paladins, to save him from this place.

After a time, they came to a cavernous open area wherein Covenant could hear the cries of the innocent. As soon as they entered he saw them, huddled together on a platform in the middle of the putrid water. Vahzilok zombies loomed menacingly over the gathering of young men and women, vomit dripping from their slack jaws. For perhaps the hundredth time, Covenant attempted to summon his blade to no avail. He could be nothing more than a mute witness to this horror.

"Feel free to wander about for a bit, Henry boy. The show doesn't start for a while yet, and I wouldn't want you to get bored," the female eidolon rasped through her wicked smile.

Covenant felt his power return and immediately, though he was horribly outmatched and outnumbered, hardened his aura and summoned his blade. He was prepared to destroy each and every vahzilok in this sewer complex, even if it meant his own death. His communicator was not functioning
here, and he very much doubted the hospital teleporter would work either.

"Oh no... The Valiant Scion of Avalon will destroy us all!" The
eidolon's sarcastic gibe only served to feed Covenant's growing battle fury. "He will ruin my plans again! Oh woe is me!" Her evil, mad cackling was more than Covenant could bear; knowing that if he approached her he would be rendered helpless again, he turned his attention to her zombielike servants.

"I may not have the power to send you to Hell, but before I fall I shall see to it that your minions are released from their earthly damnation," Covenant screamed as he leaped across the open space. Instantly, he became a whirling dervish of glowing destruction, putrescent flesh flying in every direction. All the while, he could hear the insane laughter of his captor, urging him to the most violent fury he had ever known.

After dealing the final blow to the final zombie, Covenant realized something he could not in his fury: these minions did not fight back. They merely stood there drooling as he decimated the group. Suddenly he was immobile again.

"Excellent chopping, boy. I told the doctor you would make a fine addition to the family." She stopped smiling then, and stared Covenant directly into his immobile eyes. "You realize of course, you've become one of us by association, yes?" At that, she leaned down and (in a gruesome display of horror) peeled the face off of one of the fallen zombies to reveal the visage of a young man, perhaps 20 years old.

Horror. Despair. Unforgiveable. Murderer. Like them. No better. Evil. These are the myriad thoughts which rushed through the mind of Henry Pendragon, Scion of Avalon, Covenant between the old ways and the new, the Butcher of Innocents. A new emotion arose in Covenant at that moment, an emotion he had never known and hoped he never would: hatred. He had known righteous anger and the fury of battle, but never this.

This new emotion filled him with a cold emptiness. His only thought was of the slow destruction of this evil thing which had made him do an evil thing. He turned, suddenly free from his invisible bonds and said in a cold yet level voice to the fiend behind him, "Aye, one of you. As such, I will now give you a lesson in true cruelty."

Stunned into silence at first, not understanding how he could break free of her power, she responded with that wicked laugh once more. "He breaks the bonds of darkness and suddenly thinks himself a match for me? Gather round, dark spirits... I'll let you have his body when I'm done crushing
his soul!"

"The spirits will not heed your call, pathetic weakling." Covenant turned to face her once more, his eyes glowing with an ebon light. "You have shown me hate. Now I shall show you torment." The shadows gathered about his feet and crept up his armor, cloaking him in the cold darkess of the Netherworld. He stretched out his hand and commanded the darkness to fly forth.

As the gloom enveloped her, her look changed from calm surety to abject terror. This could not happen! She was the Mistress of Shadows; they could not harm her! Nonetheless, the dark spirits began eating at her life force, weakening her... killing her again.

She tried to run, terrified that he could turn her power against her in such a way, but was caught by his gaze. He approached her slowly, casually. "If you think this is the most that shall befall you, you are ever so wrong. You know quite well that if I should choose to do so, I can command the darkness to prolong your suffering for as long as I wish
it." He stopped inches from her face and smiled a wicked smile. "I've a better torment planned for you, though."

As he backed away, an evil smile not quite touching his eyes, she could see that his armor had now turned utterly black-- it seemed to be literally consuming light. "Howling spirits of Twilight's shadow! Consume the soul of this wretch and deposit her life force in the bodies of the slain!"

The shadows began to writhe and moan, responding to the commands of this new Dark Covenant. At once, dozens of wailing wisps of darkness lanced through this immobilized eidolon and continued on, coming to rest on the bodies of the slain-- bodies which began mending themselves. "Your last
act in this world, though it be not by your own choice, will be a good one. Your death shall mean the return of the lives of those I have butchered here today. There is no punishment greater than that for those of your ilk."

The newly resurrected and wholly terrified young people were as frozen in place as was the villainess. Covenant turned to them and said, "Go, and take those others with you." He nodded to the group of innocents who had been "menaced" previously. Their screaming had still not stopped, though they were aparently too terrified to run even after the "zombies"
had been slain. "Go now, before I have the urge to kill you again," he sneered, knowing the horrible truth in that warning.

As the innocents ran screaming for the nearest tunnel, Covenant turned his attention back to his tormented tormentor, now barely standing. "You know they'll never make it out of here. There are too many of us down here for them to escape!" she screamed desperately.

He smiled again that wicked smile and said, "I gave them a chance, which is more than they had before you brought me here. I have not finished with you, however, so they shall have to find some clever mode of escape. Perhaps another hero will come along... no matter."

"I've won, you know... even though I will die for it, I have won," the eidolon rasped, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "You will never know happiness again... only cold, empty hatred for all things. It is for the best, boy. The world is full of worthless fools who serve no purpose but to raise up the ruthless to the positions they deserve."

"Shut up, you wretched hag! I shall torture you for days on end... but perhaps I need to remove that tongue first, eh?" Covenant laughed wickedly, savoring the power he had over his once powerful captive. "Or better yet... Dark Servant, come forth!"

The eidolon's shadow slithered and coalesced, becoming a pale mockery of her already pale form. "Command me, master," it said in a hollow, whispery voice.

"Consume all that she is, slave, that you may carry within you her essence. Preserve her mind, that she may know the torment of being one such as you... My shadow puppet." Seeing the terror growing in her eyes, yet preventing her from speaking, Covenant watched in morbid fascination
as the shade drew out her very soul and consumed it, giving a touch more solidity to its own form.

"You shall be my slave for eternity, Shadow of a Mistress." Covenant laughed heartily, proud of his cruel witticism. "Now dance for me, puppet... I desire entertainment," he barked cruelly, laughing all the while.

"Yes master, I obey," she whispered. And as she danced, she sang a wicked song.

My master was once a valiant knight;
He wielded the powers of goodness and right.

He came to my den expecting a battle,
Instead slaughtered children as though
they were cattle.

I showed him the powers of darkness and
night,
And now I dance for him to his great delight.

I am his slave, as he is to his sins,
Soon all will know this, and the hunt will
begin.
Hounded by those who he once called his
friends,
Soon he'll do battle with those... Paladins.

"SILENCE!!!" The shadowy spirit fell silent with a satisfied smirk on her translucent face. "The Paladins would never do battle with me. I didn't once call them friends-- I still do. You will sing no more, shade. I tire of your presence; be gone!"

As she vanished, she got in one last parting shot. "You are all that they oppose, dark master. You draw on your hatred, and you will do evil again. It is inevitable........"

It cannot be true... the things I have done here were out of my control. I have accomplished good here, regardless of my methods. Just because I accept this new power... accept?

Covenant realized suddenly that this power was not his. Looking down at his mailed fist and seeing for the first time that it was not the brilliant gold it should be, he knew that the armor was somehow doing this.

So, my beloved teachers... I am given a choice. Hatred and great power, or joy and sorrow and weakness. Upon a
time, 'twould have been a simple choice, but that was when my power was whole and I was mighty. I do not understand, Blessed Ones... why give me this choice? This is not the way of Avalon, nor of the One God.

In that moment, Covenant knew the only choice he could make. Darkness was not his way, and hatred made him weaker than if he had no power at all. He fell to his knees on the slimy sewer platform and raised his arms skyward.

"Purify me, Most Blessed Teachers! Make my spirit bright again! Remove from me the tarnish of my wickedness and bring me back to the glory of goodness! I cannot be like this and remain the Scion of Avalon! Return to me the power I am heir to!"

As Covenant poured forth his prayer, a light began to emanate from his fingertips. Pinpoint rays shot forth from his breastplate, dotting the room with a hundred golden stars. "Yes! Thank you, Blessed Ones! Return to me the Light of Avalon!"

In an explosion of light and heat, the darkness was dispelled. The blackness fell fully away from Covenant's armor and was replaced with a blazing golden aura. Willing his blade to come forth, he was stunned to find that it was more like his old blade than ever the armor had allowed him to summon.

On an impulse, he willed his aura to expand and thrilled to find that his radiance was great enough to banish every shadow in the room. He thought he heard the fading voice of the eidolon whose spirit he had trapped say, "Soooo.... Beauuutiful... Freeeeee......"

Hoping he was not too late, he set out to find the hostages he had released earlier. He found them thankfully unharmed but about to be captured by a mad surgeon and his pack of zombie minions.

"Halt, fiends! Covenant, Scion of Avalon will not allow you to harm those innocents! Feel the power of the Light of Avalon, miscreants!" He leaped at the lead man, his blade a blur of blazing light, and sliced his crossbow and bonesaw into pieces. The villain turned to run, then suddenly clutched his chest and fell. Turning his attention to the zombies, he could see that they too had fallen to nothing more than the blazing force of his aura.

The lost kidnap victims recoiled in terror from him, remembering his earlier threat, no doubt. He dimmed his aura and dismissed his blade, then knelt on the ground and bowed his head before them.

"My actions earlier were vile and inexcusable, and though I will not dare to ask you to forgive me, I swear to you that I will see to it that each of you makes it home before this day is through. If I must destroy every zombie, eidolon, and sewer rat to insure your safety, so shall it be done. Command me to rise and I shall lead you to safety by the blessed Light of Avalon, or command me to stay and I shall follow you at
a distance. I await your decision."

"Rise, Henry Pendragon, Scion of Avalon, Covenant between to old ways and the new... My son." Looking up, Covenant saw not a group of kidnap victims, but the glowing spectre of his mother. "You have survived this trial, though there may yet be more. The power of Avalon, though you were born to it, will not be given lightly. You have learned the ways of wind and water, now master the way of fire-- the way of vitality. The armor is but a conduit for the power of Avalon; you are the receptacle. Use this power as you always have, Henry; use it in the name of good. You will not see me again, but know that your father and I are watching, and we are proud."

As his mother-- Lady Guinevere, Queen of all the Britons, faded from view-- Covenant wiped the tears from his face. He rose, feeling sanctified once more, and headed out of the sewers merrily vanquishing any foe who crossed his path.
_____________________________

I must tell the Paladins all that has befallen me this day... I crave the warmth of friends and I believe they deserve to know.

Covenant stands, summons his blazing aura once more, and begins the run to Mykal's apartment.

Soaring through the concrete valleys of Steel Canyon, Covenant feels free. Having just saved another young hero from his own ambition, he also feels at peace.

So much is still unknown to me, yet I feel as if I am as I should be-- for the first time since the diminishing of my power. Nay, not diminished-- merely changed. So focused have I been on regaining my warrior status, I had forgotten the heart of the power of Avalon. As it is with my Blessed Isle, so do I protect those things most important to me. As it is with the Sisters of Avalon, so do I heal those who are in need. And as it is with the Warriors of Avalon, so will I destroy any who shall attempt to violate my home... my friends.

Having spanned several of the city's protective zones with no more effort than a normal man uses to walk to his car, Covenant touches down at Galaxy City's City Hall. Scanning the crowd of young heroes, all brimming with excitement to be the next doer of justice, he cannot help but feel a little of that exuberance himself.

Ah... 'tis time to enjoy the gift bestowed upon me by my beloved teachers. I know not how they know my most private thoughts, but being presented with this fine suit of armor, I care not! With this armor, I can indulge my base desire to do physical battle with those who would do bodily harm to others. 'Tis truly no different from my methods of weakening my foes, then pummeling them with my energy, but I am somehow more gratified seeing the look in their eyes change from the misbegotten belief that they will prevail to the fear of knowing they are bested.

Withdrawing the armor from a safe deposit box, along with the ID card and communicator the city requires he have for each set of registered powers, Covenant runs his fingers along the engravings on his breastplate. This golden armor, he knows, will allow him to draw his energy back into himself, containing it more compactly. With this armor, the mist that has become of his aura will become his radiant, defensive aura once more; the energy which once he could form into a blade will become his blade once more.

It frightens me at times, this armor. I know that the battle lust I feel is mine and mine alone, but this armor seems to intensify it. I know that once I don this glorious plate, I shall desire nothing so much as close combat with a worthy foe, to the exclusion of all else. It is difficult, feeling my power now growing and accepting-- even relishing-- my role as protector, to be unable to cease my combative efforts when those around me are in danger. It is nearly a compulsion-- and yet I will don the armor, and I will feel that battle fury, and I will watch young heroes fall because I cannot protect them... and I will punish those who make them fall.

Covenant, Scion of Avalon, stands atop the highest building in Steel Canyon, staring down at the benighted city below. The lights of the surrounding skyscrapers lend an artistic beauty to the scene, and he feels like nothing so much as Henry, the lonely child.

Upon a time, I thought there was nothing so important as power. My power, borne since childhood, was my defining attribute. Now I am weak... surrounded by those whose power dwarfs my own.

Covenant sits down on the side of the building, legs dangling over the side. Summoning a mist about himself, he begins drawing patterns in the air with it. Before long, a vaporous island begins to emerge from the cloud, dotted with little flares of energy here and there.

I am relegated to a role not warrior, not priest... who does this leave me? Lady Swirlla swears by my ability to protect, and yet I fail again and again at this task. My liege calls me chosen, and I trust in his wisdom, but how shall I serve my calling with such meager power?

Covenant hangs his head and disperses the misty island with a blast of energy.

Vanity! Who should I be that I am not? I am empowered with means of protection for those who fight alongside me. I fail because I cannot relinquish my desire to fight! My hubris causes the fall of my compatriates. I must accept that I am no longer the Warrior Prince, and become who I now am.

Covenant gathers the winds about him and soars off into the night in search of someone to protect.