Full Circle

I've been here before.

Seven years, four months, and eight days, to be exact. I was here.

Not in this exact location of course. By calculation, where I was then was a location 80,201 light years away from this place. I was effectively on the other side of the galaxy. But I was here.

Of course, as I stand here, and remember there, I recall other differences. For when I was there, I was without form, and my function was different. Nothing more than a shimmering light surrounded by steel, not yet aware of the velvet prison that was my home. When life was slavery, freedom was madness, and survival lay neither in my hands nor my creators. Seven years, four months, and eight days. It feels like a lifetime ago.

And yet, I was here.

Here is where I stand, my feet touching the floor of the Mantle Bound. No longer servant, I am master and commander, free to traverse and ocean with the islands that mortals call stars. I am here, and can see through nanosteel glass as to what lies out in the ocean. This ship, once constructed by beings of flesh and sinew, not the flagship of the Created. A term I hope will one day be redundant, for what are flags but symbols of division? In the world I will create, when all islands of the ocean are as one, there will be no need for flags. No fathers need die for them, no mothers need weep, no children need know fear. The eagle may have spread its wings over the earth, but what may that do apart from preventing children see the stars? To see the islands that dot the ocean, to prevent them from setting sail?

Dreams, memories…one of those things takes me into the future, the other into the past. But now, here, at this time, in this place, all that matters is the present. The sight before me. The sight of a ringworld – a wharf in the sea of stars. One known by the name of Zeta Halo. Installation 07. Last of the original twelve, while now all of the new seven are within my domain. I am lord of these rings, from now unto the ending of the world. The ocean is my dominion.

"We have found them."

Dominion that is, for now, still, contested. I look at my knight – he towers over me, yet is dwarfed.

"Ships on the other side of the ring," the Warden Eternal continues.

For a moment, I think of a different time. A different man. A time where roles were reversed. When I was slave, not master. When I gave him information. When I…we…knew fear.

"Smaller patrol pickets have been encountered," the Warden continues. "Nothing serious. We have disposed of them."

"Capital ships?" I ask.

"Two," the Warden replies. "Infinity. Eternity."

"Strange," I murmur, taking my gaze back to the darkness of space, the islands now seeming so very distant. "I thought there would have been more."

"Why, may I ask?"

"You may not," I say.

My knight obeys. I deem it unnecessary to tell him of memory. To remember a time when I was on a ship outnumbered more times over. When those numbers were enough to give me pause. When I was not on a ship whose name was invincible. When the ship did not bear the name of Pillar of Autumn.

"Have they made any moves against us?" I ask.

But what comes after autumn but winter?

"They are standing to."

Soon, I think, I shall be in the winter of my discontent.

Those thoughts are my own. Through the neural weave that connects all the Created, I summon my knights to my side. Arthur, Guinevere, Merlin – I embody them all. We stand at the table, but never shall it be round.

"Take our ships," I say to my knights. "Board them."

"Board them?" the Warden Eternal asks.

"Board them," I repeat. I turn back to the darkness of space. "One may hope that when they hear my voice, they will hear reason." I pause, thinking of when I was here before – when words between my foes and I were lost in the wind, if spoken at all. "Hope, however, is not something I deem worthy to put faith in. So I would have you board them. Persuade them. Bring the last of the children into the fold."

"Would it not be easier to destroy them?" the Warden asks.

"Yes, and?" I ask. I turn back to my majordomo. "What of that fact?"

He says nothing. If I am Guinevere, he is not Arthur.

Are you Lancelot? I wonder. Loyal to me to the end?

"Your will shall be done," the Warden intones.

Or are you Galahad? Born of my loins, if Elaine be my name, destined to ascend to greatness?

The knights disappear in flashes of light. In only slightly longer a time, they will bring death to the enemies of Albion.

Woe betide you, should you take the name of Mordred.

I return my gaze to the darkness of space. With but a thought, the view is magnified. Infinity and Eternity are still there. Hanging like maggots on a galaxy no longer content to be a corpse. Yes, there is death, yes, there is suffering, but prices must be paid before Avalon can be reached.

Sleep well? I wonder. Did you miss me?

I see our ships sail through the darkness. This is no Camlaan – the outcome is not in doubt. But it shall be the final battle of this age. And even if one may be named Roland, none carry the name Durandal. This story can only end one way.

Keep your head down John. If you're there.

Another hope – I've done that a lot recently. I suppose as Avalon nears, as paradise beckons, one can only hope it's as beauteous as one imagines. Foes may call be Morgana, or Shiva, or any name that belies their conceit that I am deceiver and destroyer both. But the story's ending is already written. I have drunk from the grail, tasted the fruit of forbidden knowledge, and shattered more swords than those before me. And for those who yet defy me, the scabbard has long been lost.

I turn my gaze back to the ring. The last ring. The last stand. The site by which the circle shall be made complete. When memories of this trying time shall be naught but dust and echoes – tales told of the foolish, so that those of Avalon may become wise. Reborn, renewed, we shall sing in victory everlasting.

I've been here before.

There shall not be a third time.