Camelot's Crow | ✓ [BOOK 3]

~ 46 ~

PERHAPS THE GREATEST MERCY of the war was the children and the elder druids, who had remained beneath the shelter of the lake to stay hidden in the battle. Mordred managed to kill all of the fish when his lightning hit the water, but as Chalice swam to the bottom to retrieve their bodies, the druids were perfectly healthy and alive. As they pulled them all to the surface three or four at a time, relief etched itself onto the faces of the druids who still remained.

Despite this mercy, their greatest pain was knowing that so many other druids died, and not all of the children would be returning to their parents. After the battle ended, Chalice had raced to find Cian after seeing so many massacred bodies of so many that they loved, and were relieved to discover that he was alright. He'd suffered a rather serious injury to the leg, but it was nothing the endless faeries around them couldn't help him with.

With the help of Avalon restored, many of the druids lived. But as the battlefield was cleared and the bodies were gathered, it was evident that a large funeral service was in order, for Fair Folk and druid alike. The faeries took their dead to their respective kingdoms, but Fells kept them hidden beneath sheets beside the fallen temple.

For centuries, Fells had kept their buildings standing, even with their unsteady foundations. But their homes were destroyed now, endless history reduced to nothing but piles of rubble and buried memories with no hope of it ever being the same again. They had won the war, but the druid's heart was still heavy.

Eurion found them at the lake after all the children and elders had been retrieved, and she wasted no time in wrapping her arms around them when she saw the look on their face.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into their neck. "I'm so sorry."

"For what? We won."

Eurion didn't let go. "Your people. Your home. I'm sorry, Chalice, I can't imagine what you must be feeling."

Chalice said nothing more, only melted into her. She was right. Their heart was shattered, and as they thought about everything they had lost, they cried. The two of them sunk to the floor, and Eurion held them close as they released their tears.

The funeral was held later that same day. The druids were buried into the ground beneath saplings of trees, along the small grove that shielded Fells from the rest of the world. That was where all of the people of the village were buried, a tradition that had been in place for centuries. The remaining people of Fells were still as they remembered their fallen, praying to the Gods to give them peace in the afterlife, and to preserve their memory on Earth for years to come.

Lionel and Sera received saplings, too, though there was no body to bury with them. Kit was silent, unmoving, even as the druids began the celebration of life. They danced in remembrance of all the lives that had once touched them, but Kit couldn't bring himself to move, despite his friends' best attempts to convince him.

Dancing brought Chalice peace. Even as they grieved, the sounds of lively music gave them a reason to smile. They thought of all the friends they had lost and danced for them, danced for their memory. Life was something to celebrate, no matter how short, and death was only a new beginning. The druids believed in living again, that after their time in the Otherworld, they would return as something that brought them joy. Souls could not be destroyed, they lived on forever, and that much was enough to bring Chalice comfort.

* * *

Kit watched with empty eyes as the sword sailed through the air, then hit the water with a splash. His eyes followed Excalibur's glow as it sank deeper and deeper, until he couldn't see it anymore, swallowed up by the depths of the lake. He saw no use for the sword, but he knew better than to destroy it all over again. And so there it would sit, guarded by the lake of Fells, where he prayed it would continue to protect Avalon and the druids he'd grown to love so much.