Avalon was a place of mysticism, a place of devotion, of mysteries beyond the understanding of mortal man or woman. Here, the ancient lore and power was studied, gathered, protected and learned, all under the supervision of the Handmaidens. And they answered only to the Lady. Few knew her true name, though many had made guesses that in turn flattered or insulted. In truth, it did not seem to matter what her name was. She was the Lady, and it was by her that Avalon was maintained and protected. Her power was myriad, palpable even in the most ordinary of moments here on the Isle. Yet she made time for anyone who wished to see her, for anyone who needed to see her. She was as loving as she was implacable, all things balanced and in moderation, the template for the Goddess many had once thought dwelt within the mists of Avalon.

The sun was beginning its ascent to noon when Rhys Bristol was led into the Temple itself, only to discover that his destination was a garden set apart from all others, gathered close in a cloister of natural stone where no sound could penetrate. The greenery grew and twisted about itself, seemingly impassable, until his ageless guide spoke. "Lady, he is here." There was a pause, and very slowly the entwined branches of trees and shrubs began to part, slithering with a soft sussuration until the way was open for him to enter the garden within. His guide bowed, gesturing for Rhys to enter. "She is waiting for you, Rhys Bristol."

Rhys took all this in with the same quiet wonder with which he'd taken in everything he'd seen and encountered in Avalon since his arrival only a few hours ago. He had no idea who the Lady really was - a goddess, a saint, an angel, someone or something completely unique unto herself. Certainly someone of great power and mystery, causing him, like Natalya before him, to question everything he'd ever previously understood or believed in. That there were Knights in her service did not really surprise him; that the Order of Templars was still as alive and well today as it had been centuries ago was a fact he could easily accept.

That this place - Avalon - even existed seemed a matter of fact. He was here, he was seeing it with his own eyes, unless he was dreaming. He had thought to ask Natalya if all this was real, but he already knew the answer to that question without asking. "I'm really not in Kansas anymore," he muttered to himself as the trees and shrubs parted, like the Red Sea, to allow his passage. Everything he'd ever believed in was being questioned here and now, and he wondered how many other mysteries were waiting for him to try and understand, thirsting, burning for knowledge and understanding.

As he stepped into the garden, it opened up before him, the vines and branches at his back braiding themselves together once again to close him into a place that was by far the most beautiful of all the sights to be seen upon Avalon. Yet it was not through tending or even the rarity of the plants that beauty reigned over this small piece of the Temple. It was the serenity, the peace, the unspoken understanding that this was the source of Avalon's unique sense of belonging, be it outside time and space or in a person's heart. A small path led him between swaying branches, into the full burst of sunlight that painted the dappling foliage all around him and reflected in rippling caress from the surface of a small pool that stood exactly in the center of the cloistered garden.

And there, standing at the edge of the pool, her back turned toward him, was the Lady of Avalon. She was tall, almost as tall as him, crowned with a head of tumbling golden hair that spilled like liquid sunshine over her shoulders, shining against the natural hue of her rough-silk gown. As with every woman who inhabited the Temple and its grounds, she was ancient and youthful, ageless and timeless, innocent and wise, weaving about herself with effortless ease a sense of safety and security, of maternity in all its myriad forms. She turned as he approached, and the beauty of her face was breath-taking, stunning to behold and yet inviting, welcoming. Her smile was gentle, and when she spoke, her voice seemed to be that of every mother, sister, and daughter who had ever loved him, echoing the words his own Natalya had given him only hours before. "Welcome to Avalon, Rhys Bristol who was once Rathanael. I have been waiting for you."

He was once again struck by the beauty and serenty of the place, even more so the deeper he strode toward his destination. Even the water in the small pool seemed serene, calm, the sky clear, the sun warm. There could not be a more perfect day if he had asked for it, and not for the first time, he wondered if Avalon was a place outside of time and space, if it was part of Heaven itself. And then she was there, ageless and timeless and more beautiful than he could have ever imagined. He felt like a boy beneath her gaze, an insignificant child, though his soul was as old as the ages. He found he could not meet her gaze, unworthy as he was, and without thought, he dropped to one knee on the grass before her, head bowed in reverence and respect, unable to speak, unable to find words that seemed worthy of speech.

It did not take her more than a moment to move toward him, one lily-white hand unfolding from her skirt to gently curl beneath his chin, drawing his face upward to meet her gaze. The eyes that looked into his were as blue as the sky at the height of midsummer, and it was there that the signs of her truly ancient soul resided. But the gaze was without judgement or chastisement, simply warm and welcoming, and sternly refusing him the chance to avoid seeing the Lady for what she was ....chosen, yes, gifted with a life far longer than any other, but mortal, human, and not so very different from himself.

"You have many questions," the Lady said quietly, drawing the backs of her fingers down his cheek in a motherly caress. "I may have the answers you seek." In a rustle of silk, she lowered to kneel with him, her hands folded in her lap. "But you will never know unless you ask."

He felt tears prickling at his eyes, but he wasn't sure why, as she forced him to face her, awestruck by her beauty, but by something more, something deeper. She reminded him of someone he'd once loved, someone he'd lost so many years ago. Like so many others, he'd tried to save her and had failed, the woman who had born him and given him life, his very first love, that of his mother. "I don't know where to start," he told her, his eyes following hers now that he'd dared to meet her gaze. "You're beautiful," he said, the words tumbling out of his mouth before he could take them back. "Sorry, I..." He stammered, words failing him. He didn't find her beautiful in the same way as Natalya; her beauty was different, like the beauty of a cloudless sky on a summer day, warm and comforting as a mother's smile.

Surprisingly, his stammering compliment brought forth a laugh that was as youthful as her eyes were ancient, a peal of mirth that wrapped about them and filled the little garden with light and sound. "Never apologise when you speak words that come from the heart," she told him through her merry smile. "But perhaps now you see why I rarely venture from the Temple. Even those who are used to me find it difficult not to stare." As she spoke, the ripple of amusement that ran through her words deepened, wry and knowing, understanding that the gifts she had been given made her as much an object of intimidation as she was an object of admiration.

There was one thing that struck him about her, even as she tried to comfort him, even as beautiful as she was and ancient as she seemed. Perhaps he understood it because he, too, had once possessed immortality, choosing to sacrifice it in exchange for a mortal life because of love. "Isn't it lonely?" he asked, his curiosity overcoming his fear or his intimidation. He'd been alone; he'd felt alone all his life, though there had been those who loved him and helped him along the way. He'd known that, in the end, it was up to him to fulfill his own destiny, and there had been loneliness in the knowledge that the world's fate was on his shoulders. All of that was over now, but he thought she might understand, if not feel the same.

He was at a loss for words, his heart aching for the dream, the vision, the promises that had been made, the gift that had been given. He wanted it so much it burned like fire in his heart; all he had to do was believe and trust.

Gentle arms enfolded him in a warm embrace, wrapping him about in a love deeper than any he had touched before. It was a love that transcended time and space, a love that was greater than the sum of its parts, a love that could only be given by one who had given herself over to the care of so much more than herself. The Lady was as myriad a role as any other, and here, in this moment, she was mother to the child in his heart, enveloping him in that protective blessing. "Her Master shall not bar your path," the Lady murmured to him in the peace that surrounded them. "You have my blessing to wed and seek this future together."

He made no attempt to resist the arms that enfolded him in her loving embrace, reminded somehow of his mother so many years ago, so long ago it almost seemed like another lifetime. Something broke inside him and he wept openly, not only tears of sorrow, but tears of joy, washing his soul clean. Perhaps he'd realize later the full implications of her words, that the Lady's fate was tangled with his own, with Natalya's, that one of their bloodline would one day in the future free her and take her place. He was too overcome with emotion now to absorb this, but when he had time to think on it later, he would understand that he was exactly where he belonged and that he was much more important to the fate of the world than he could have ever guessed.

It seemed a long time that she held him there, like a mother holding a child safe in her arms, until at last the storm that waged inside his soul passed, the clouds cleared, the tears faded, sorrow replaced by renewed hope, even if he didn't completely understand. He turned a tear-stained face to her, eyes watery with the last remnants of tears, like a rainstorm that had faded to a gentle shower. "Who are you, really?" he asked, unable to hide the wonder, reverence, and awe.

She was gently solicitous of his easing emotive state, softly brushing the water from his cheeks as he drew back from her, her smile only half-touched with amusement at his question. It had been asked of her many times, and those who had recieved the answer they truly sought could be counted upon one hand. But this man who had once been an angel, who would found a bloodline that would someday give her a child to draw into the mysteries of the Isle ....He deserved the truth. "I am the Lady of Avalon," she told him quietly, drawing her hands back to lie soft in her lap. "But I was born Elaine of Corbenic, daughter of King Pelles, when Avalon still dwelt where mortal men could see it."

He didn't bother to wipe the tears from his face; she had already seen them and brushed them from his cheeks with a touch as gentle as a mother. He arched both brows at her reply, not really expecting an answer, but the question had been asked in honesty and reverence, and the answer did not entirely surprise him. In that moment, he was touched by her own sacrifice, not quite understanding her own purpose and destiny, but somehow knowing they were linked, that perhaps everything and everyone was, in a way, linked.

She understood him better than he understood himself; she understood the deepest desires of his heart. She knew who he was and all that he'd done, and she'd still found him worthy of her secret. It was his turn to reach for her hand now, daring to lift it from her lap and press it to his lips, overcome with a feeling of destiny and purpose, admiration and even devotion to this gentle Lady of Avalon who seemed to have taken him under her wing. "I would be honored to serve you, Lady, if you would find me worthy."

Again, her smile warmed, her head tilting to one side as she watched him press her hand to his lips, understanding the gesture for what it was. "It is not my place to find you worthy of Avalon, only to guide you if you wish it of me," she told him, but her expression was not the rejection her words might have been. "I fear the knights are to be disappointed once more, for my intention is not only to take you into my service, but your beloved also. You will drink from the Grail as the dawn breaks, and you will become a Guardian of the Temple of Avalon, one of my knights, to guard your beloved and the children you will conceive. For you and your Natalya are more precious to me than any other, and more important to Avalon and the world beyond than even a Grand Master can comprehend with ease."

He let her hand slip away from him, eyes widening in wonder once more as she declared the importance of not only his life, but Natalya's, as well, and he felt his heart swell with pride. He did not feel as though he was being forced into a life of servitude, but choosing with free will and an open heart to dedicate his life to a greater cause, knowing what the rewards would be along the way - the love he'd always longed for was all the reward he ever needed. He accepted what she told him, accepting her guidance, accepting the place she offered him in Avalon, drawing strength from her belief in him, somehow knowing he would succeed. Once again at a loss for words, he stammered a response, words failing him. "I-I don't know what to say. I am honored, Lady. I will do my best."

"You had better." The Lady laughed again, moving to rise to her feet, reaching down to draw him up with her as her blue eyes danced with knowing mirth and fond understanding. "Your Natalya has quite a talent for getting herself into trouble. There are very few mortal women who have entered Hell and returned unscathed. And you have your brothers to thank for it."

She reached out, touching her hand to his cheek, looking into his eyes with a strange sense of detachment from this world. "When the lack of memory becomes too much, call on Lailah and she will answer," she told him in a low tone. "And one more thing ....Some day as yet unknown to me will bring a shadow of the past to your family. When it comes, know that Avalon is open to you, and do not be too proud to ask for our help. I cannot tell you more than that, but remember it, for all our sakes."