The Second Day, The First Year
Sleep doth not visit mine eyes wide with rumination of fated future days. For now shall we, of Excalibur, ponder the ignoble quest to quell the rumble of rebellion. On the power of thy magic, Merlin, as steady as thine heart beats in thy breast shall I dutifully tread the course of birthright brought unto me. Doth virtue spring from righteous reign? From a quiver of arrows shot into the air, is it for hawk or dove doth archer aim?
Merlin, why doth thou not come to me?