Sherwood Forest

Posted on Fri Mar 31st, 2023 @ 14:39 by Robert Closeley & Heather Redding

Chapter: Prologue: Dawn of Avalon
Location: Sherwood Rangers' Secret hide-out
Timeline: Monday, September 28th, 1992
1857 words - 3.7 OF Standard Post Measure

The dark walls would be enough to give most people claustrophobia, even without knowing that the place was completely subterranean, something that the occupants were reminded of by the smell of drenched soil and fungus. A single narrow corridor connects small rooms and leads to a single large one in the back. The flicker of an old tv set struggling to maintain its signal and power lights the back room. A metal table stands at the centre of the room, maps and blueprints cover the silvery grey surface, but the eyes of the man at the head of the table are transfixed on the television set where a woman. A woman like them. A woman nothing like them. Holds a speech.

"Let this be a warning to the Sherwood Rangers, and let this be a warning to whomever was behind the creation of the Sentinels. Do not take our reluctance to take up arms as a sign of weakness. Avalon stands in protection of the innocent. The disenfranchised. The forgotten and betrayed. Avalon is an island of peace, where anyone can come and recover from their wounds. That is my promise to the Mutants of the U.K., of Europe, of the world."

Robert could only just resist the urge to throw the remote into the television. "Who does she think she is?!" His head was reddening and he felt his heart pound in his temples. "Warning us? US? She doesn't even know who we are! 'Avalon stands in protection of the innocent'" he mocked her accent as best he could before slamming his open hand on the tabletop. "This cannot stand. We cannot appear to be weak in the face of this. This..."

Heather had been watching with a growing fascination the scene on the television and then watched Robert’s emotional storm burst. She was glad that he did not throw the remote at the television, it had been hard to get anything working under there without them having to find something to replace it. “This…” Heather whispered moving from her seat curled up in the most comfortable chair they had found to rub her hand across his back to his hands. “Outrageous lies. She stands for no one.” She agreed to his unspoken words.

"Just wait for the backlash. She'll come around." Robert gritted his teeth, "what do we know about her? The people at the institute? Surely we've been able to dig up more by now." He paced over to the large metal table, pushing the papers on top of it back and forth. "Cavendish. Cavendish. Why is that name so familiar?" He looked back up to Heather hoping to get some input.

Heather knew when to pull back from him and not pander to him, it would only make his anger worse. He needed to run out of steam. "We know nothing about them. MI-13 are very quiet about them and there is nothing in any of my grapevines." She sighed. "They are going to be thorns in our sides. Posh name, most likely some type of aristocrat especially with the institute." The woman commented. "Do we know any teachers?"

"They've been playing everything really close to the chest. Only the bare minimum information is known with the local authorities." It annoyed Robert that this institute was actively recruiting mutants and he wasn't in the know. He felt like he had a finger in every mutant community pie, but clearly this wasn't the case here. "Just that they have a special exemption as they endeavour to educate and certify them. So, not all of them are certified teachers." It didn't give them anything to go by, and since Cavendish was the only name that they had to work with they'd have to work with that. "Definitely ruling class. She lives in a castle, after all." He ran a hand through his hair before stepping closer to Heather and embracing her. "Why can't everyone just understand what we're trying to build here?" He lamented holding her close.

Heather said nothing for a long moment. She was having a lucid moment where thoughts came easily rather than dragging through the treacle that it sometimes was. She allowed him to pull her close and wrapped her arms around him. She was surprised by the gesture as he had been distant for days. "Because they are blinded by fools. We need to show them what can be achieved by ..." She faltered for a moment as something came to mind. "If we cannot beat them with words maybe we need to do it with bigger actions... make it impossible to ignore."

Robert leaned back a bit and looked into Heather's eyes. He knew that if a suggestion came from her this lucidly it would do him well to listen. "Go on." He was curious as to what she might have conjured up in that wonderful mind of her.

"We use the land... I have been researching..." She explained pressing a kiss to his chin as she moved away into her room before returning with her note padd. it was filled with notes, quotes, and summaries of articles, books, and other sources, as well as ideas and insights that arise during the research process into all the legends from the United Kingdom.

"You've been busy." Robert was always focused on the political sphere. The resources needed to make them move. There was no movement, except towards even more conservative and xenophobic tendencies following the bombing in London. He looked over the notes she was put down on the table in the centre of the room. "So, what am I looking at?"

"My research on mysticism that is our country. The faults in the universe, the magic and the lay lines." The notepad was filled with drawings, charts, and other visual aids to help clarify complex concepts that only her mind could fathom in her lucid moments. "You have been political but I have been looking into the otherworlds." She said dreamily.

With the mention of otherworlds Robert had to suppress a sigh. It seemed sometimes that there weren't many lucid moments to be had with Heather and this one also seemed fleeting. Magic and lay lines were definitely not on the list of things that the freedom fighter considered to be of the greatest help to them in their endeavours. "Go on." That wasn't to say he was going to dismiss these things out of hand. She had been the one to find this place, also through unconventional means, and with all the mutants starting to crop up one couldn't help but wonder how much of the old legends had some kernel of truth in them.

"Layline are alignments of ancient and sacred sites such as monuments, megaliths, and other landmarks that are believed to have a spiritual or mystical significance." She said taking back her book to read out some of her notes. "Some people believe that ley lines have spiritual or mystical properties and that they can be used for healing or other purposes... What if it is true?" Heather held out a map she had made of the ones she had been researching.

Robert was sceptical at best when it came to mysticism. Most of the folktales of the past, talking about witches and fae to him seemed like early manifestations of mutants. Nothing to do with magic, or lay-lines, or women in lakes handing out swords. "I'm sorry, Heather, but I don't think our answers lay in fairy tales and campfire stories."

"But what if there is a power we can tap in to make ourselves stronger?" She said looking sad that he did not understand what she was trying to say. She knew she was not always easy to live or love but she was on his side and wanted to elevate his troubles and move their cause forward even if it was in her unique way.

It took the man a moment to not immediately dismiss it. Robert took a long, measured, breath before stepping towards the map she had revealed and looked down. "How do you propose that works?" He leaned down looking at erratic lines that seemed to spool together in different nodes all across the country. "How does one tap into a lay line?"

"Many ways but the one that I thought best would be this..." She flicked through the note padd until she found a pencil drawing of a staff inside a case at a museum with the word bristol circled. "It is rumoured to be able to tap into leylines and other things you do not believe in."

"So let me get this straight. We have to break into a museum, to steal some sort of Roman spear, who, by the way, never even made it up this far North, and we then use that to 'break open' the earth and soak up the dormant powers?" Robert couldn't help but sound a bit incredulous at the prospect. Sure he'd give her the benefit of the doubt, and would try and make and effort if it meant it would give them a leg up, but it was going a bit too far into fantasy for his liking.

"You are just like the others and dismiss me," Heather mumbled taking back the notepad and gathering her other items.

"No, no, no, sweetheart. Do you think I'd go through all the trouble of getting you out of one of England's most secure locations just to dismiss you?" Robert immediately wrapped his arms around her, "look, it all sounds a bit too good to be true, maybe. I'm sure once we get our hands on that stick you can convince me otherwise."

"You needed me." She answered still not relaxing from her anger at being so easily dismissed by him in her opinion. "You got lucky that day and stumbled across my path. You did not go into trouble to get me out." She was going to get the staff whether he agreed or not.

Robert released his embrace and stepped back a bit. "Sweetheart. How can you say that? Sure, it's mutually beneficial. But." He thought on how to get to her, "Hear my soul speak: The very instant that I saw you, did. My heart fly to your service."

"Of course it did..." The woman held her notepad to her chest protectively and frowned. "I am getting the staff with or without you. I am sure that Fiona would enjoy the change of scenery." Heather had never been quite so vocal before but her feelings were hurt and it was giving her a sense of purpose that did not happen often, normally she was away with the fairies.

The man supposedly in charge of the Sherwood Rangers ran a hand through his hair and stepped away from her. It would probably be for the best to just let her handle it herself. That way he could focus back on Claire Cavendish and whatever she was up to in that castle of hers. That name though. He had to figure out where he had heard that name before.