The Return

The door opens after years of darkness, and light shines through, illuminating a hidden wasteland.  In the corner of the room, an old man huddles, cold and shivering, scantily clad in tattered rags.  He raises his hands to shade the light from his eyes.  The light burns, and his eyes water.  There is nothing to see but a blinding white light.

A voice echoes through the chamber, “Get up! You have been here long enough, and your exile is over.  Rise, and stand before me.”

The old man struggles to stand; his back stiff and weak from lack of exercise.  Slowly, he rises, and straightens, while leaning on a walking stick he pulls up from the floor to support his weight.  Dust particles fill the air, suspended in the shaft of light beaming through the open doorway.

The voice continues, “Your exile has been indefinitely suspended.  Do you remember your name?”

The old man thinks for a response as his hand continues to shield the light from his eyes.  He turns away and responds, “No, I have no recollection.”

“You are Merlin, and Arthur is once again in need.”

“May I ask how long I have been here?”

“Twelve hundred and three score years.”

The old man looks toward the light in disbelief.  Against the tips of his fingers, he can feel the warmth of the light. The sensation spreads throughout his body, and a brain long dormant begins to awaken.  The image of a woman’s face, the sounds of battle, and the cries of men dying.  Dust particles within the chamber trigger memories of smoke, and fire.  The woman! Yes, the woman.  The old man removes his hand from his eyes, and stands tall.

“I remember!  The witch – Morgaine!  She put me here.  But where is Arthur?”

The voice responds, “He is waiting for you to revive him.  Come, move out from this place and join the living.”