Southend
Epilogue
by MistThing, published on January 26, 2001
Donaldson shook his head admiringly. "You barely pulled out of this one, Gabriel Knight. For some odd reason, you've got luck on your side."
- "Hereditary thing, Professor" - replied Gabriel - "Anyway, for a moment there I thought my number was up."
- "Well..." - Donaldson looked thoughtful - "I wish we could've reached you sooner. You were surrounded by the thickest fog that our instruments had ever met. From the satellites or radar aspects, the Mull area simply became an impermeable black hole."
- "So ... I guess that all the crashes and disappearances stemmed from this place's special ... properties. Are you going to search for that stone triangle at the bottom of the sea?"
- "Some things are better left untouched," answered Donaldson "Though I believe, that if we search for it, we won't be able to find it."
Gabriel shrugged and got up. "Can I go now, officers? It's not that I am not enjoying the fine Dumbarton Police hospitality, but I have to pick up Grace at Southend from Kirk and Annie's house. We have a flight to catch."
- "Sure, Gabriel" - Saunders raised his head from his papers - "We're done questioning you."
Gabriel smiled. "Good luck tryin' to explain all of this to the Met" - he said - "By the way ... Ya think Mor Rioghan, or whatever her name was, is plannin' on a comeback?"
- "I can't tell, Knight" - replied Saunders - "We will always be here, to boldly defend. Oh ... and if you have visions of Alasdair Mor again, seek professional help." He winked at Gabriel.
Gabriel laughed, heading for the door. "Are ya growin' a sense of humor, Detective?"
...Grace stood rigid at the edge of the cliff, in front of the lighthouse. She borrowed Kirk's van, telling him she wanted to appreciate the Atlantic view one last time. She looked at the sea, her face vacant, an odd glint in her eyes. Grace slowly took off her clothes and leaped from a height of fourteen hundred and ten feet straight to the sea below... Her body hit the water in a perfect straight angle. She resurfaced after some long, lingering minutes. She raised her head to the skies and laughed. Her eyes were empty red flames.
Hymn to the Morrigan - by Isaac Bonewits
O Morrigan, we call your name Across the dusty years.
You speak to us, of blood and lust. You show us all our fears.
You are a goddess, old and wise. Of holy power you have no dearth.
Beneath your wings : Black, Red and White, We learn of death and birth.
You walk about, this ancient land, Your hungers raw and clear.
You make the crops, grow rich and strong, As well your geese and deer.
A flirting maid, a lusty hag, A mother of great girth :
Without the touch of your black wings, We cannot heal the earth.
You float upon, a blood red wave, Of swords and spears and knives.
Your voice inspires, fear and dread, That you'll cut short our lives.
You try the warriors', courage sore, Our inner souls unearth.
Without the touch of your red wings, We cannot know our worth.
You fly above the silver clouds, To Manannan's shining Gate.
You lead the dead along that path, To meet our final fate.
The joke's on us, we find within, A land of laughter and of mirth.
Without the touch of your white wings, We cannot have rebirth.
Last update: October 24, 2007
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