Xaviers!

"I'm sure your Lady of the Lake has sussed me out already."

"Samantha McManus, the Morrigan." Vivienne smiled.

"And thank you for informing me that this entire endeavor is a total and complete "cluster". My mother failed to leave me detailed instructions when she unloaded all this on me." She motioned around the room.

"The trouble here is you're playing a game the pretender knows, and has won already."

"Maybe the last round," Shane said defiantly.

"Camelot is a doom that's already written. Miserable for Arthur. Miserable for Merlin. Lancelot dies of grief."

"We are what we pretend to be, aye?"

"Think of this as bacon and eggs. The hen contributes," she gestures to Viv, "but the pig is committed," she emphasizes by waving her hand over Shane.

"And if we pretend to be none of the above?"

"There's only one who comes out of Camelot with a happy ending, and she happens to be the incumbent."

"Simply put, Camelot burns brightly, gutters out, and is spoken of for generations. That's what it does."

"Then maybe it's time to rewrite a few things."

"The names may be the same, but the players are very different." Vivienne added.

"Putting defeatism in mystical terms doesn't make it any less bloody cowardly, but if Camelot is really a doomed enterprise then... why use it at all?"

"Who said I was using Camelot?"

"So what are you using, Sam? Or are you here just to watch things fall apart?"

"I see dooms written on things, plain as day. Would you not want to know you were rushing headlong into an old one?"

"I rush headlong into everything, doomed or not. You know this."

"And I simply refuse to be fate's bitch just because some magical sword chose me."

"It is in her nature to see the doom, she is the Battle Crow after all, the aftermath is what feeds her, however warning us...that is Samantha."

She turned to Tereza and Shane. "This was set in motion by my mother, a true fey, and so far the fey inability to learn and change seems to be in effect. She has set things up as it had been before, only this time there are more blades and I can only hope they have chosen wielders evenly among the races. I am trying my best to unlace what my mother handed over to me, the fey love their intricate long term plans, but there is only so much I can actively change due to the magic involved. We can call you two "Wiggles" and "Smoosh Smoosh" for all it mattes. Remove the Camelot story and there's still a certain number of very powerful weapons now in this world and those who wield them are going to need someone to organize them and guide them to a common goal. The Unseely and Blight are real, they are insane, they are angry and they will come."

"Well, I refuse to be called either Wiggles or Smoosh Smoosh. I'm all for putting down the stuff that threatens us though. Is that acceptable to the Irish goddess?" She looked up into the rafters again.

"Acceptable doesn't enter into it. All I can do is point out the reef before you steer into it, aye?"

"So are we going to have any help from the Morrigan or are you going to glare at us from on high? We'd have a significantly better chance of breaking the cycle with you involved."

"Yes, do quit preaching doom and being generally unhelpful."

The shadow in the rafters break up into a storm of beaks and feathers that descend down towards the three. Crashing to the floor in a flurry of wings, they condense into a a more human form directly in front of Shane.

"I didn't have to come here," she hisses.

Tereza held up a hand placatingly, "But you did, and you warned us, and now we're asking for your help."

"You say that, but apparently this one wants my attention."

"No, I'm just averse to armchair generals. To quote a great thinker, 'put up or shut up'."

"He has some sort of point," Tereza said, still holding up her hands. "Wouldn't you want to be a part of putting Le Fay in her place? Because I certainly intend to do that."