In the morning, the companions woke to find breakfast waiting for them. The townsfolk had gotten together and cooked a hearty meal, and the travelers ate it hungrily. Thanking the townspeople afterwards, they mounted up and began the day's travel.

The day passed without incident, the dull landscapes passing them by by the minute. Gwaine, being the only one legitimately familiar with the Perilous Lands, rode on in front with Leon. It wasn't until the sun was beginning to set that something extraordinary happened.

"Here we are," Gwaine grinned.

The company had reached a small bridge, barely wide enough for horses to pass through.

"Greetings."

Everyone was surprised to see a dwarf walk out from behind a tree that stood directly next to the bridge entrance. Gwaine groaned.

"Nice to see you again too, Strength," Grettir smirked, "And let's see. Are you all with him? I see Loyalty, yes, and Honesty. Patience, Valor, Purity, Bravery, and Courtesy. Ah and there's Faith."

"Who are you," Fira asked, curious.

Grettir grinned, "I, my lady, am Grettir. The gatekeeper of the Fisher King. Though he has since passed away, I guard his lands."

"May we pass, good sir," she inquired.

"Of course. It has been written as such."

She dismounted and the others quickly did the same. Attaching the lead rope to Aland, Fira led him across the bridge. Gwaine went next but as he did so his sword transformed into a lily stalk.

"Seriously?! Again?!"

Grettir only laughed and snapped his fingers once more. Where the flower had been now returned the sword. Gwaine continued on, grumbling to himself. The others wondered what this was all about and Fira told herself that she should ask him later.

As the last member of their party finally crossed the bridge, Grettir once more appeared beside them.

"Beware of the Perilous Lands. For since the Fisher King passed, they have grown wild and uncouth. Wyvern breed and inhabit the air more frequently than ever. But it will not always be so."

"Thank you," Leon nodded.

Then the dwarf went away just as suddenly as he had appeared. Gwaine snorted, riding a bit ahead of the group.

"Welcome," he said, "to the Perilous Lands."

"Lovely sight," Gaheris shouted sarcastically from the back of the group.

"I thought so too," Gwaine said, equally sarcastic.

The land was flat, only minor hills and slopes breaking up the view. Dead trees and mud met their eyes as far as they could see. In the far distance, they reckoned they saw a castle. However that was not the direction they were heading in.

"We should set up camp here," Leon decided, "Let's make use of this forest for as long as we can."

In the distance a screeching was heard as far above them, wyverns prowled the air looking for prey. As such they dared not construct a fire, instead eating bread and fruit for dinner.

"Elyan, Gareth, Galahad. Take first watch. Then wake Fira, Gaheris, and Gwaine."

They settled down to sleep and Fira stretched out, shifting around trying to find a comfortable position. It was easier said than done.

About four hours later, she was awaked by someone shaking her softly.

"Fira, it’s your turn for watch," Galahad whispered, "Sorry to wake you...but..."

Fira grunted and sat up, running a hand through her hair.

"No no it's fine," she assured him, "Go get some rest."

She stood up and pulled on her boots. Attaching her new dagger to the inside of the right boot, she walked over to a nearby tree. Fira sat down on a rather large broken branch. Suddenly someone sat next to her.

"Gwaine," Fira gave him a small smile that was probably lost in the darkness around them, "What's up?"

"I could say the same to you," he said quietly, "You were rather solemn today, the whole ride. Or at least since that dwarf. Is something the matter?"

Gaheris was standing across the camp, leaning against his own tree. He was watching his brother and the druid girl talk. What was it between them? They were closer than the others, at least outwardly. If he hadn't known better, Gaheris might have thought they were siblings.

"It’s nothing, Gwaine," Fira assured him.

But Gwaine wasn't fooled, "Nothing? Really. Must be a hell of a lot of nothing."

"Well I'm just worried about the prophecy, Gwaine. Everyone keeps saying that it's coming true, but... is that good?"

Gwaine considered this. Was it good? He didn't know. So he shrugged. Gaheris, overhearing them, came over.

"It may be coming true, yes. But whether or not it is good isn't of consequence. It will come true if it needs to," Gaheris pointed out.

"That's helpful," Gwaine sarcastically said.

"Thanks," Gaheris sneered, "I was trying."

"Would you two calm down," Fira pleaded with them.

They both grumbled apologies, Gaheris making his way back to his former spot. Gwaine just stayed where he was, silently eyeing the darkness around them.

"Gwaine," Fira whispered again, "I'm afraid. Oh, I could care less about the wyverns. No, I'm afraid of this prophecy.

"I don’t like this. It predicts too many scary things. The knights fighting amongst themselves, the Emerald Lady," she trailed off.

"Well, the knights fight all the time," Gwaine joked.

It was true, Fira supposed. Especially Gwaine and Leon. But that was almost always in jest.

"I just wish Merlin was here."

Gwaine nodded, understanding. He put a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"He believes in you, Fira. He knows you can succeed. I have no doubt."

"That makes one of us," she muttered darkly.

Gwaine nudged her and she nearly fell, "Don’t say that!"

"Sorry."

The morning was gloomy. Grey clouds covered the sky and a light rain was falling. Percival woke the company as Gareth fixed breakfast and Elyan saddled the horses. After eating, they set out into the Perilous Lands.

"So, Sir Tor, Sir Morholt," Fira started, what is Somerset like?"

"Oh it's a wonderful place. The weather is mild and the landscape is gorgeous," Morholt said with a strong conviction.

Sir Tor nodded emphatically, "Absolutely. And the summer night feasts are incredible. There's not a more beautiful place on earth."

"What are the summer feasts," Elyan asked.

Morholt smiled, thinking fondly of home, "In Somerset during the summer months every city and village throws a feast once a week in honor of the magic of summer."

Tor elaborated, "Every family supplies at least one meal. The richer you are the more one is expected to contribute."

"Sorcerers from the Mages' Guild, usually apprentices, perform minor feats at the larger city feasts," Morholt jumped in, eager to explain, "Each major town in Somerset has it's own branch of the Mages' Guild."

"Is magic really so important there," Leon asked warily.

"Absolutely," Tor insisted, "Many Somersetons choose to pursue magic, some through the Guild for professional training. Still others learn only a few basic spells on their own for practical use, like spells to speed crop growth or create water."

"And no one abuses this power for evil?" Elyan asked then skeptically.

"Oh, no, of course there are those who misuse it. But as the King's knights it is- was- our job to prevent that. Each company in the army has a soldier who is skilled in magic," responded Morholt.

"Magic is so vital to our culture that few citizens would even consider abusing it," Sir Tor was adamant in his statement.

Fira thought how wonderful it must be to live there. Be free to practice her inborn gifts without the threat of execution looming over her head. After all, if her magic became public, would Arthur have any choice but to have her killed? She'd often thought about that. Perhaps the king would opt for exile, but who knew what the people would do.

A screeching above them drew their attention towards the sky once more. This time Leon gave a shout and they dismounted, drawing their swords. Far above them but rapidly growing closer were three dragon-like creatures. The first of the wyverns were upon them.

Fira took hold of all the horses, determined to keep track of them. They whinnied in fear and Fira had to soothe them with her gentle voice.

One of the beasts was diving at Gwaine and Gaheris, who were stood back to back. The former swung at the creature and managed to slice its tail. Gaheris stabbed upwards, catching it in the foot.

Percival, Leon, and Tor were pitted against another one. As this one came in for an attack it caught Leon on the shoulder with its claws. The knight grabbed at his bloodied arm in pain. Percival, swinging as hard as he could, slashed the beast's wing, causing it to crash into the ground. Morholt, closest to the wyvern, drove his sword deep into its back.

Gareth, Galahad, and Elyan dealt with the last wyvern, stabbing it out of midair and just barely managing to dodge its ferocious talons. Fira, handing the reins to the two youngest, rushed over to Leon with her medicine bag.

Percival was already helping Leon take off his chainmail so Fira could get to the wound. She pulled out a cloth from her bag and instructed Percival to hold it against Leon's bleeding wound. As he did so, Fira dug through the pouch looking for a tonic she could apply.

"Thanks Percival," she told the knight, reaching for the cloth herself.

Wiping the last trickles of blood with another cloth, Fira then applied a poultice to the wound. Leon gritted his teeth but didn't complain. She breathed the usual spell to protect it from infection before wrapping his shoulder in a bandage. As she finished, the knight put back on his chainmail and out garments.

"Thanks Fira."

"'Course," she smiled.

The company mounted their horses and continued on their way, moving slowly because of the uneven and treacherous ground. On more than one occasion, a horse nearly fell because of the week patches in the ground. Fortunately they were able to correct paths before it truly occurred.