While we, of human kind, weep and mourn and wonder, stunned by his departure, we should yet take heart, for somewhere, beyond the veil of curling mist, far past mortals reach, the thronging mobs of fey folk, of trolls and mermaids, centaurs and dragons, gather upon Avalon's shores in celebration. Even Arthur, once future, now present, rouses from his throne to pay respect. For as his great flying tall ship breaks through the clouds and approaches the docks, cannons fire in salute, as bright laughing moon pennants snap in sunset's breeze. The assembled crowds of magical creatures and mythical beasts gaze on in excitement, as the smiling figure stands proudly atop the bowsprint, bearded and beaming, hand raised in greeting. For seeming eternity, he gave life to them all, now they would return that enchantment. Long have they awaited this day, when the Storyteller King would, at long last return home, this time, to live on forever.