There are some who believe that the town of Glastonbury in the south-west of England is all that remains of Avalon, the mystical island of Arthurian legend. Others believe that the Tor, the man-made hill overlooking the town on which stands the ruined tower of a Norman church, was once mystical Avalon. And still others believe that within the Tor lies the entrance to the Otherworld of Celtic legend and myth. As with all legends, there is some grain of truth in what these people believe, but only a blessed few know for certain the entirety of that truth. And on a particular morning on a particular day in the warming months of spring, one more soul was about to be initiated into that truth.

The sun was just beginning to rise over the town as Natalya Pimenova led Rhys Bristol up the steep path that wound about the Tor itself, up through the clinging, low-lying mist to the smooth rise of grass and stone that topped this very special place. She had given him the hilt of Joyeuse to hold, adamant that he should be the one to present the Spear of Destiny in its hiding place to the order she was about to introduce him to. The tower stood dark against the golden-pink of the breaking dawn, somehow foreboding and yet welcoming, the light shining through the archway that led from one side of the ruined tower to the other.

Drawing Rhys to the western side of the tower, Nat paused, looking up toward the keystone of the arch above them before letting her eyes travel to her companion. "This is the point of no return, dusha moya," she told him in a soft voice that was almost a genuflection to the strange sense of sanctity that hung about the ruined church tower. "You do not have to come through if you do not wish to."

Rhys had been mostly quiet as they made their way up the hill to the tower, as if sensing the sanctity and reverence of their destination, in quiet contemplation of the sobriety of what they were about to do. He had been to holy places before, seen things he had not yet shared with Natalya or anyone. In some ways, the Tor was just another mystical place in a long line of mystical places, but somehow he had a feeling, at least for him, he was about to reach a turning point, a crossroads in his life. The point of no return, as Natalya had put it. Once he crossed a certain line, there would be no turning back, but he hadn't come this far to turn around now. The past was behind him; the Tower represented the future, and his future was with Natalya.

"No, this is part of it, Nat," he replied quietly as he gazed up at the stone structure before them, a dark shadow against the flush of daybreak, beautiful enough to almost bring tears to his eyes, and for the first time in his life, despite all the hardship and heartbreak and loss, he thought himself blessed. "This is part of my destiny," he told her, somehow sensing the truth in his own words, in his own heart. He was meant to be here with her, meant to finish what he'd started, meant to put the sword to rest once for all and see it through to the end.

She watched him as he gazed up at the ruined tower, a very small smile making itself known on her lips as she took in the reverence that radiated from him. "Then know that I am here, beside you, every step of the way," she said as softly as before, and this time, there was a hint of ritual to her words, a sense of ceremony, of the honor accorded to him that he had been invited to make this short journey with her. As the sun crested over the Tor, shining bright through the archway to illuminate them, she stepped to the threshold stones, reaching back to take Rhys' hand with her left. Her right hand reached forward, palm facing the sunlight, and the air about that outstretched hand seemed to ripple and cast shadows of its own.

Natalya drew in a slow breath. "It is time." Her fingers tightened on his in her grasp, and she stepped forward, into the rippling of light and dark, drawing him from this world and into the implacable darkness beyond.

The time for questions was over. Whatever questions he might have would either be answered when he stepped through that portal or would have to wait until he returned. He wasn't quite sure where it was she was taking him. Avalon, she'd said, but that told him very little. A mythical, mystical place where few had ever been. He felt a sense of apprehension as he watched her step forward, mingled with a sense of almost childlike wonder and awe at the honor and privilege that was about to be bestowed upon him. His fingers held tight to hers, worried if they lost hold of each other, she'd be gone, leaving him behind to wait and wonder if she'd ever be back. He stepped forward to follow behind her, what remained of Joyeuse by his side, putting all of his trust in her, to take him with safely with her to the mystical destination that awaited them.

As the world he knew as real passed away from him, Rhys was plunged into a darkness so black it peeled away the senses, leaving him blind, deaf, and dumb, numb to everything but the sensation of Nat's hand in his, drawing him inexorably onward. Yet the darkness did not last long. A blinding light burst into being all around them, and Nat stopped her forward advance, pausing, waiting for the ritual to begin.

A stern male voice spoke from the blinding brightness ahead of them. "Who art thou who seeketh entry to the Isle?"

Natalya squeezed Rhys' hand reassuringly even as she gave her answer. "A poor daughter of the Temple, who doth bring a supplicant for the Lady's will."

There was a moment of considering silence, in which unseen eyes could be felt studying them, and the voice spoke again. "Enter, daughter, and go thy way. Know that the Lady is with thee."

As these words faded, so too did the blinding brightness all around them, until it was only a swirling grey that teased the eyes with the suggestion of shadows. Nat gave Rhys another gentle tug, and stepped forward one last time, into Avalon.

The land opened up before them, at once the same valley they had just left and yet somehow completely different. The abbey stood intact in the small town below, surrounded by the reaching spires of gothic buildings, medieval places of worship and study, between which solitary figures could be seen moving back and forth. Yet what drew the eye was the Temple, tall yet simply built, dominating the valley set amid its own swathe of green. Here the sun was also just rising, and with it came a deep sense of peace. This was a place out of time, and thus far removed from the pain and conflict of the worlds it served. Nat relaxed, drawing Rhys beside her to look down over the waking town surrounded by impenetrable mists. "Welcome to Avalon, Rhys."

Whatever fear Rhys might have felt when he was plunged into that darkness was nothing compared to the sense of wonder at this latest adventure. He'd already passed through the darkness of death and survived. He'd known no greater darkness than that. At that first hint of light, blinding in its brilliance, he was reminded of Heaven - a brief, fleeting memory that he could not grasp hold of, slipping through his mind as though it had been a dream and nothing more - but he wasn't dead, and somehow he knew this wasn't Heaven.

He said nothing as the voice questioned Natalya and she gave her reply, knowing it was not his place to speak unless and until he was spoken to, too full of reverence and respect for this place to dare speak a word, not until they had been given leave to step through, the enter to place known as Avalon, the land opening up before him, like Oz did for Dorothy. "Now I know we're not in Kansas anymore," he muttered, more to himself than to her. He felt a sense of peace come over him, and he once again felt that sense of familiarity, like he'd felt something similar before but couldn't quite put his finger on it. He'd never seen anything quite so beautiful as this, the rising sun turning everything golden, and his heart swelled with wonder. "Are you sure this isn't Heaven?" he asked, as Natalya drew him closer to look over the waking valley.

"Not all the artifacts are neutral, or good," Nat explained reluctantly. "Demons have been out of Hell far longer than they have been burning, and with their infernal powers, they have corrupted much of the power that was left behind when the ancients and the gods ended their days." She shrugged, shaking her head as she looked away, her next words touching on her own past indirectly. "The corrupted artifacts will only respond to someone who has faith, but it will always end in death and suffering."

"Always?" he repeated, forehead creasing in confusion. "But I thought....I still don't understand. I thought the artifacts were brought here for safekeeping. You said I could consult the Eye of Odin. How can I do that if it will only end in death and suffering" That doesn't make sense." He remembered what she'd told him about her own experience with the artifacts, but didn't understand quite what she meant. "Are they gathering them all up to keep them out of the hands of demons or men?"

"Both." It was a difficult thing to explain, and she knew she was not doing a very good job of it. She turned back to him, closing her hands over his. "I am very bad at making it clear," she told him quietly. "The Master will be able to help you understand. He helped me."

"What are they going to do with the sword, Nat?" he asked, searching her eyes again. He hadn't become so attached to the sword that he wanted to keep it, but he did want to make sure it didn't get into the wrong hands. It was, perhaps, the most precious thing to ever have come into his possession. Now that it was broken, it was no good to anyone, and yet, he felt a certain connection to it, and through it, a connection to the man to him it had once belonged, a man revered in his own right - Charles the Great, Charlemagne.

She smiled again, her expression gently reassuring. "I have seen where it will spend eternity," she promised him. "In the company of Durendal, its sister blade. The Spear in that broken hilt will not allow itself to be misused again, as Durendal has not." She squeezed his hands gently. "Trust me. Durendal is as holy an object as Joyeuse, Rhys. It is just that the secret is better kept."

"I'm sorry," he told her, frowning. "I don't mean to ask so many questions. I'm just trying to understand." He gave her hands a gentle squeeze in return and turned his gaze out toward the valley that was spread out before them, and the small town below. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. I've been hunting so long....As long as I can remember." He hinted at the confusion he was feeling inside himself, not only about this place and the order, but about where his life was supposed to go from here. There were still too many questions without answers. If he'd been dead, how'd he come back" Was he still an angel or was he now a man' Did the angels still have a claim on him or was he free to live his own life now" What about the demons" Had they all returned to Hell or were there still battles left to fight"

"Rhys ..." Nat turned to face him, studying his profile fondly as the light around them began to settle into the gentle glow of morning. "You do not have to apologise. Before all, Avalon is a place of learning and study. We are encouraged to ask questions, to stretch the limits of our curiosity. Just because I am failing to answer your questions adequately does not mean they will remain unanswered here. There will always be someone who can make it clear for you."

He nodded his head quietly. There wasn't much else he could ask of her but that. He felt a little bit lost now that his lifelong quest was over. Destroying the demons who'd killed those he'd loved had consumed him for so long. It seemed he was on the cusp of finding a new purpose in life, but he wasn't yet sure just what it was. Somehow he knew he'd always be a hunter; it was in his blood, but there must be something more. "I suppose we shouldn't keep them waiting then."

"The Master is always waiting for something," Nat laughed suddenly, the sound sweet and bright in the quiet around them. She rose up to kiss his cheek, resuming their course down the steep hill and finally drawing Rhys into the confines of the town. Here at street level, the differences between Glastonbury and Avalon were marked; here, there were horses and carts, rather than cars; the roads were packed dirt, the houses and grand gothic buildings unevenly spaced. It was like walking into a living, breathing medieval town, yet the voices around them spoke with a contemporary mien.

Nat's hand was warm and firm in his as they walked along, a source of the confidence she exuded everywhere but in the most vulnerable of moments in his arms. She glanced up at him as they walked along, following the line of the street toward the Abbey. "I am surprised you have not asked about the order," she commented mildly. "Do you intend to take it all on faith, or to fall into a dead faint at the Master's feet?"

"Maybe I'm afraid to hear the answer," he replied, as he followed along by her side, taking in his surroundings with interest. The town reminded him a little of some of the small towns they'd come across in the French countryside, but even those were modern compared to this, and he suddenly felt an odd disconnect, like he'd traveled back in time. It was a little like another place he'd been once, a place called Rhy'Din, but he hadn't thought of that place in a very long time and wasn't even completely sure if it had been real. "The way you talk about it, it almost sounds like a holy order."

"They were considered holy once, but the institution that created them turned on them," Nat told him gently, easing her way through the history of the order in which she hoped he would join her, in the hope that he might guess the name before it was given to him. Otherwise the shock might prove a little much. "They were among the most powerful and influential of Earth's holy orders for almost three hundred years before secular kings and the Pope himself fell on them with swords and hateful accusations. They were hounded, forced to go into hiding. Many of them died horrible deaths, accused of heresy and put to the flame. But the order is not so much holy as it is devotional; we are not so much devoted to one god as we are to all gods." She glanced up at him thoughtfully, wondering if he was anywhere close to working it out for himself.

"Wait..." He muttered, pulling her to a halt in the middle of the street, something clicking in his head, the gears slowly turning, something he'd stumbled on somewhere making a connection. "Are you talking about the Templars?" he asked, in astonished disbelief. "Are we talking Da Vinci Code here?" He knew better than to scoff when he'd stumbled on stranger things.

Her smile was oddly proud as she allowed him to pull her about, coming to a halt before him as he bestowed that incredulous astonishment on her. "I knew you would not be long in making the connection," she beamed happily, relief at his now knowing just what she was radiating from her in relaxing waves. "I am a member of the order known as the Knights Templar, a representative of their mission on Earth. The only reason I can tell you this is because you have been granted admission to Avalon. There are many orders here, many sects and cults, many faiths, but we all obey the Lady and her Handmaidens of the Isle." Her hand squeezed his gently. "Try not to dwell on legend and conjecture, my love. This is all very real."

"No," she smiled, her own eyes turning toward the mists that swirled about the Isle, cloaking and guarding it from unwelcome intrusion. "There are many ways to reach Avalon. Some come by portals like the one we came through, others come by boat, but everyone who seeks to pass through the mists must identify themselves to the Guardians. If the Lady does not wish you to enter Avalon, you will not; likewise if she does not wish you to leave, you will not. But if you simply set sail, you will drift along the shoreline until you choose to put in to shore once again. At least, I believe that is how the border works."

"And she wishes me to be here," he said, stating the obvious. Or someone certainly did. He'd been allowed to pass through the portal; he'd been invited here, she said, though he was not quite sure why just yet. To become one of them, perhaps" Or was there another reason' "Nat, I..." He faltered, that self-doubt bubbling to the surface once again. "I don't remember anything about being an angel. It's....fuzzy. Like a dream."

She looked up at him, meeting his gaze with warm faith in him, no matter his own doubts. "Just because you do not remember it does not mean it is not still a part of you," she reminded him with calm confidence, reaching up to curl a hand to his cheek. But it was that doubt in him that made her change her plans in an instant. She had planned to take him straight to the Grand Master, but perhaps Rhys would benefit more from another visit first. "Come," she said suddenly, veering off from their former path and setting them on a confident course toward the Temple that dominated the Isle.

"Where are we going?" he asked, as she obviously veered from the course they'd been taking toward a new destination. Yes, those who'd guarded Charlemagne's sword had deemed him worthy, and it seemed the sword itself had deemed him worthy. Natalya obviously found him worthy. Everyone, it seemed, believed in him, but himself.

"We are going to see the Lady," Nat told him firmly, looking back at him as she led the way through the wide streets and into a richly kept swathe of fresh greenery that surrounded the Temple proper. Small paths led through the trees and over the grass, passing by small shrines and places set aside for quiet contemplation. Women were very present here, often garbed in simple robes of blue or plum, girdled with silver or gold, and all sharing the same serenity in their expression as the Isle itself seemed to exude. Those they passed smiled and nodded to both Rhys and Nat, welcoming both of them with equal warmth into the sanctity of the Temple grounds.

"The Lady of the Lake?" he asked, remembering snippets of Arthurian Legend. He looked around in renewed wonder as they passed through the gardens and the women who reminded him a little of nuns, serene smiles on their faces as though they were at peace and everything was right with the world. "Who are they?" he asked, lowering his voice and hurrying to keep up with her.

Nat smiled, her pace slowing to something more respectful as they moved through the beautiful gardens. "She is known by many names," she said quietly, drawing her arm through Rhys', walking close by his side now, wanting to share his first encounter with the ageless women of Avalon. "Often the Lady of the Lake, or the Lady of Avalon, but always the Lady, no matter where you are."

Her eyes trailed toward one of the women as they passed her, an older female whose aged hands were working gently through the rich-smelling soil in preparation to plant the flowers that lay with roots exposed in a basket at her side. "They are the Handmaidens," Natalya told Rhys quietly. "Their purpose is to serve Avalon, and sometimes to introduce the mere concept of it to those who do not know it. Nimue, in the legends of Arthur and Merlin, was a Handmaiden of Avalon; she was tasked with setting limits upon Merlin's power, since no other force could do it. But they never tell the price she paid for it - that she, too, was sealed in the rock with the wizard, and for all we know, remains there with him to this day."

He shuddered for some reason at the thought of being sealed up forever, with or without a companion. "Was he really a wizard or something more?" he asked, every answer prompting another question as he took in everything she was telling him. He linked his arm with hers as they slowed to a leisurely stroll, his eyes soaking up the beauty of the gardens and the peace and tranquility of it. "It's peaceful here," he remarked again, not for the first time. "Have you seen this Lady before" What did she tell you?"

"I do not know what he was," Nat admitted. "I do not think anyone truly knows that. But he was too powerful for Earth to contain. He could have subjugated the world with Arthur wielding Excalibur, but the choice to remove him was not taken lightly. I do not know the full story." She drew in a deep breath, revelling in the gentle fragrance of the flowers that bloomed around them, a fragrance that mingled with the scent of frankincense that poured from the Temple proper.

"I have met the Lady once," she added in a softer tone, her voice gentled and humbled by the memory of that meeting. "On the occasion of my first visit to Avalon. I was presented to her as a newly-made Knight." Nat paused, quietly regretful as she went on. "She told me that someday I would be given a choice, to remain a knight, or to join her Handmaidens. I do not know when that day will come, or what my choice will be, but ....the thought that she has plans for me is both humbling and terrifying at once."

He quietly absorbed this information, almost lulled by the tranquility that surrounded them - the beauty of the gardens, the perfume of the flowers, the women that moved around them, the voice of his beloved who clung like a lady to his arm. He would have asked more about Excalibur, more interested in the sword than the man who was said to have wielded it - too many questions at once, not enough answers - but she continued, and he didn't want to interrupt her. His head turned sharply toward her when she spoke of the Lady's plans for her. "But..." he started, furrowing his brows in confusion and worry. "If you were to join her Handmaidens, you'd have to stay here." At least, that was his guess, and he already had plans for her.

"Only if the Lady commanded it," she told him softly, pausing at the white steps that led up to the simply built Temple before them. She turned to look up at him, easing her hands into his with reassuring strength. "The Handmaidens serve Avalon as the Lady wishes them to. She is very powerful, Rhys. She has prescience, and influence to make such visions reality. But I have never known her to be cruel or forceful, nor have I ever heard of her imposing her will upon anyone." Brown eyes flecked with warm amber gazed into his own, fond and sure as she went on. "I believe she can help you find some way to reconcile yourself with who you were and who you are. She may even tell you something of what you do not remember. But you will have to meet with her alone. She sees no more than one at a time in private, unless she herself requests otherwise."

He looked from her to the Temple before them, imposing as it was, though in a way peaceful, as well. A shudder of apprehension rippled through him, not fear exactly, but a feeling that he'd once again reach a crossroads, a turning point, a point of no return. "If she's that powerful, then she already knows I'm here," he remarked idly, looking up at the building, which reminded him of photos he'd seen of ancient Roman temples.

"Of course she does," Nat smiled gently. "She gave permission for you to cross the mists." She made no move to mount the steps, needing this decision to be Rhys' own without her intervention. As much as she trusted the Lady, as much as she believed her capable of easing the doubts that were eating at Rhys' heart, Natalya would not force him to meet with the heart of Avalon.

"You will be ready," she promised him, confident in the Lady's foresight. Her own gaze took in the sweeping Temple and its luxurious gardens, the myriad spires of the town beyond, and beyond that, the tall majesty of the Tor, listening with quiet calmness to his sighing, groping explanation of how he was feeling. "I do not know," she admitted quietly, a small frown on her brow as she spoke. "I had intended to petition the Grand Master for you to be tested, but ....I think the Lady laid influence on me to bring you here first. Perhaps she has seen something of your future she wants you to know, or perhaps it is her will and not the Master's that will decide if you are tested, I do not know. But whatever they offer you, it will be your choice."

"You know, I was happy for a while at the diner. It wasn't very exciting, but it was predictable. I got up the same time every morning, went to work, did my job, and went home. There weren't any demons chasing me, at least, not that I knew of. No weight of the world on my shoulders. I spent my free time working on my car. And I was happy for a while." He wasn't quite sure why he was telling her all this. He rarely, if ever, spoke of the time he'd spent in Brooklyn after the accident, but it seemed important somehow that she understand. There was a lot more to it than that, but he was only giving her part of the story. "I was content for a while, but it was lonely, too. I used to look up at the stars and wonder if there wasn't more to life than that. If I wasn't destined for more than just making the perfect scrambled eggs."

Her lips quirked into a very faint smile as he spoke, understanding very little of the context of what he told her. He had never mentioned to her the accident that had preceded his stint working at this eponymous diner, but she could well understand the longing for that simplicity of living. She could also understand the drive to have some purpose beyond the mundane, especially in the soul of an angel. Touching a kiss to his shoulder, she moved from his side, lowering herself to sit on the edge of the bed, her hands clasped in her lap. "Destiny changes with each choice we make," she offered softly. "We may not be able to escape destiny, but our decisions shape the purpose of our lives."

He turned to face her as she moved away from him, leaning back against the stone wall. "I know I want to be with you, and I know I'm destined for more than just flipping burgers or checking the air in someone's tires. Whatever I am, whatever I was, it's in my blood. I know I'm not here by accident, and I know it's an honor to be here. I'm just having trouble wrapping my head around it all, trying to sort it all out. I want to make the right choice."

"Which is why the Lady is giving you time," she reminded him, still in that soft voice, breathing in slow and steady as she raised her head, lying back against the sheets that covered the bed, her arms lifted to lie above her head in an open, vulnerable sprawl. Her eyes focused on the ceiling above, set with gemstones of myriad hue that sparkled in the sunlight.

"I almost chose death, that first time I came here," she confessed quietly. "I thought that just being here made me a heretic and a blasphemer, that agreeing to work with these people was tantamount to turning my back upon the faith I was raised in. I was more afraid of the Hell I thought was waiting for me for my sins, than I was of any pagan worship I might be asked to join in taking the test." She snorted softly, amused by her younger self's na'vet". "But it was the test that showed me a way to reconcile my faith with my beliefs outside the doctrine of the Church."

"What happened?" he asked, interested in her experience, wondering if he'd find a way to reconcile his own doubts, which were mostly of a personal nature, with the offer to do something meaningful with his life, something so few were asked to do, something so few even knew anything about. "I sacrificed my life once. I kinda thought I'd be rewarded this time around." But maybe, in a way, this was his reward. Just the fact that he'd been invited here, that he been deemed worthy. He frowned at her a moment, feeling a little bit lost. "Help me, Nat. I can't do this alone."

She smiled again, dropping her hands to her stomach, and turned her eyes to him once again, knowing he would need to see the sincerity there if he was going to accept what she was about to tell him. "The test," she said quietly, holding his gaze with soft honesty as she spoke, "to enter any of the orders of Avalon is to drink from the Grail. How can serving with these people be wrong, if it is one of Christianity's most revered objects of power that chooses the ranks that stand together in this place" There is no difference between the Christian God, and the gods and goddesses of other religions. There can't be, if they can dwell here together with no conflict."

The only visible reaction Rhys had to this bit of information was a slow lift of his eyebrows, though you could almost see the gears turning in his head as he mulled this over, in addition to what he already knew and had seen and heard for himself. He had no doubt what Natalya was telling him was the truth; the real question was did he have a place in all this and if so, what was it and how did he figure it out' Whenever he was unsure or uncomfortable about something, he usually reacted with a joke or a snarky remark, but somehow Rhys knew this was no laughing matter.

He knew he was standing on the cusp of an important decision - a decision that could potentially change his whole life and Natalya's, too. "The Holy Grail," he muttered to himself, wondering what it looked like, what would happen to him if he agreed to drink from the very cup that Christ was said to have drank from before his death. Rhys inwardly shuddered at the thought of it. "Nat, you said you almost chose death. What did you mean by that?" he asked gently, needing to know that before he could consider the rest.

She sat up slowly, her smile fading to something solemn. "I was not invited to Avalon," she explained softly. "I was brought here by force. I had killed a Templar, when they came for me on Earth; the choice that I was given was to take the test and offer myself in his place, or to follow him into darkness. I could either die by the sword, die by the Grail, or be accepted. But they were never going to let me leave Avalon without some hold over me, and my Christian faith was so strong, I almost told them to kill me, rather than risk losing my soul to Hell for turning away from the God I knew."

She shook her head, unashamed of the wetness that shone in her eyes as she spoke. The turmoil of that decision had never left her, and even now, there were days when she doubted her choice. But that decision had been made, and she had chosen to abide by it since that moment in time. "You have to know, Rhys. If the Grail rejects you, you will die. But no one here will raise their hand against you. You will not be kept here against your will. You were invited to Avalon, and you will be allowed to leave, even without joining yourself to any of the orders here. I swear it."