that next spring, camlann blossomed all in red. the leaves on the trees were bruised as though it were midautumn and they hung their branches low enough to touch the place where there king had fallen. where blood had been spilled, wildflowers of a hue unknown to that region exploded from the cursed ground, as though it had been forgiven for the horror it had witnessed. in a land far beyond albion, merlin raised his hand to touch the wind and smiled. camelot stood even still in the place where it had fallen.