[ WP ] `` The end is nearly upon us . ''

I remember the beginning. We were so few, a group of young boys, a pair of adventurous sisters and an old man. We had set out, to make something better than what we came from. They left behind lordships and wealth, lands and fame. They would have been kings to their peoples, and, in the case of one boy, the actual king of England. But they gave it all up, all the hollow titles, to build something new. 
 
 I still remember that dream. The dream of a kingdom where all reeds and colours were equal. A kingdom where the weak did n't cower before the strong. A kingdom where wizardry was n't parlour tricks or a perversion of a great art. The kingdom England used to be. 
 
 So they set out. We travelled with me, far and wide. We searched for some place we could call home. Eventually we found it, though by this point I could n't really consider my companions children anymore. But we found that place to make our own. A place to come out from under the boot of oppression. We named it Avalon, and in that land we founded a city. Camelot. 
 
 For the longest time, it seemed we had finally reached our goal. We had our city, our safe lands, and with the promise of a future, the people followed. One by one, peasants praised our young king, Arthur. But as they say, or will say, all good things come to an end. 
 
 So here I am, trapped in a hole. And the end is nearly upon us. I look up to my captor, her beautiful ivory hair dancing through the air as her hands twist to control the spell, an incantation rolling from her pink lips. She's still beautiful. No matter what she does. 
 
 `` Vivian, listen!'' I shout to her from my prison of green crystal and ancient stone. `` It's not too late Vivian. If you stop now I can get free. I can save Camelot!'' I've been telling her all afternoon. She knows that, without me, Arthur will fall to Mordred and Camelot will fall with him. She locks eyes with me, if only for a moment. Her hair drifts around her face as she twists both her hands in a slow, deliberate circle. Above me, there is a jarring sound, the deafening screech of stone giving way. A moment later, all the light in the world went out. I'm trapped now. Until this stone is broken and moved or until the world is devoured by time. 
 
 The end is upon us. The end of Camelot. The end of Avalon. The end of all we worked for. But in the darkness I manage a weak smile. Hidden in my robes is a tome, a collection of all our adventures. A boy and an old man. A story to teach to respect those different to themselves. Teach them honour and kindness. A reminder that sometimes the good guys do n't win. But also, that evil never does. I know that Morgana and Mordred will fall with Arthur. I know this land will remained untouched for centuries to come. But I also know that Morgana's hate will die with her. And Arthur's kindness will live on. Now, I must just wait. Then, I'll find a publisher. 

