AND TO ALL THINGS COMES AN ENDING…

By Ed Ainsworth

Salisbury Planes

The disparately different and weird trio stopped before the majesty before them. Druid found himself shuddering in excitement as he looked onto the massive stone blocks before him. The mystery surrounding Stone Henge had kept people entertained and curious for thousands of years, prompting kings to dig trenches to find its foundations, hippies to congregate and make love underneath its mystical promise, and mystery hunters aroused by its complete lack of documentation.

Knightraven stood apart from Druid and Elsa, the red haired woman massaging the mage’s back at he felt quivers moving across his bark covered spine.

“Will this work?” Elsa asked, looking at Druid as he walked towards the centre of the stone circle.

“It should do. We’ve got what we need. I have the dirt from Captain Britain’s first ‘arousal’. I’ve got some of the Green Teeth’s…well, teeth. And we have Knightraven over there.” He pointed towards the shadow-cloaked man, who froze where he stood.

“What do I have to do with this?” he asked, hand resting on the sword at his side, Ravens and Crows landing on the huge blocks breaching the gaps in the dark sky.

“Well, you’re an important part of the spell, Knighty,” Elsa said, drawing her Uzi’s on him and waving for him to walk towards the centre of the Henge.

“Bullets won’t work on me, Elsa. I’m fictional,” he said with a matter of fact tone.

“You don’t think Druid and I haven’t thought of that? My chambers aren’t loaded with bullets, but that doesn’t mean my fictional bullets within the guns won’t hurt you,” She pulled a vicious little smile and waved for him to move.

“Shite,” was all he could manage.

Brian knew where he would find the three of them. Shooting through the air, followed by his other ‘Corpsmen’, he smiled to himself. THIS felt better than working with Elsa and Druid. This felt much better.

A bright glow exploded from the centre of the planes, knocking Brian off balance and sending him into a nosedive. He hit the ground hard and skidded a twenty feet on his chest, flipping over a few times to coat his body entirely in mud and grass stains.

Scotland landed next to him and stomped his foot once, laughing heartily.

“Y’never flown before, y’daft bastard?” He grinned widely, showing off the face he had no canine teeth, just holes between incisors and molars. What was weird was the fact his teeth looked like they were in perfect condition.

“Never noticed that before,” Brain said quietly, taking Scotland’s out-standing hand and hoisting himself to his feet.

The other Captain’s landed either side of Scotland. Ireland, Cornwall, Wales and Linda, all looking like they were anxious.

“Why is everyone looking so anxious,” Brian asked, looking towards the glow ahead of them.

A huge trident was erupting from the Henge itself, blood dripping from the fingers that held the Trident aloft, it’s grip causing it’s own glowing knuckles to turn white hot.

“What the hell is that?” Brian asked, his mouth dropping open.

Cornwall clapped a hand on his shoulder and said, with equal amounts of awe and fear.

“That, dear boy, is Britannia being forced out of retirement early.”

“Shit.”

“We need to stop this,” Brian said, spinning to face the other Captains and taking to the air. “We need to stop it now!” He shot off towards the Henge, who’s own rocky form was beginning to mutate and shift, slowly sliding together to congregate along a single front, becoming a line with the top stones rolling off.

“What’s going on with the Henge?” Brian asked to anyone who was listening.

Wales piped up, moving to be parallel with Brian. “Stone Henge is alive, isn’t it?” he offered, his glasses reflecting the light of the massive form of Britannia. As she jutted from the ground, she slowly began to shrink, as the form of Druid became larger and more tree like. His teeth, cast in a wide and jagged smile, was made from hundreds of thorny bushes.

“We need to hit him hard, like we did the Green Knight. Same plan as before, right?” Brian asked as he slowed his acceleration right down. Below them, the massive form of Druid received a colossal punch to the face. The mage, who was now the size of a seven-story building, hit the ground hard, sending seismic reverberations through the surrounding area.

Clicking into place with huge shunts and crunches, Stone Henge had transformed itself from a monument in the middle of the West Country into a giant war suit. A monstrous creature of oblong shape, it’s arms and legs made from the wide stones and it’s creaking splintered fingers made from the smaller stones that jutted from the ground in front of their much larger brothers.

“Who disturbs Henge? Who disturbs us?” It bellowed, as Druid tried to pull himself to his feet again, large areas of his face missing as the bark lay shattered and mulching on the ground below him.

“I do! Anthony Ludgate, Doctor Druid! YOUR MASTER!” Druid’s huge wooden fist crashed into the side of Henge, sending it stumbling backwards, digging huge trenches wherever its massive feet hit. It countered Druid with a burst of mystical energy from its open hand, burning away a section of the tree man’s stomach. He faltered for a moment before lashing the Henge with vines and ivy from his fingertips.

Below the violence of the two giants, Elsa was wrestling Knightraven to the ground, trying to impale him with a glowing artefact in her hands. She plunged it through Knightraven’s chest with a massive gasp from the recipient.

Convulsing with pain and power, the Birds circled high in the sky around the pair on the ground. Elsa smiled and pointed towards the oncoming Captains.

“Take them,” she said.

The birds took off en mass towards the Captains, crashing against their nigh invulnerable bodies, as Knightraven and Elsa got to their feet, ready to face them.

Spitting feathers from his mouth, Brian pointed towards the pair at the center of the craters where Stone Henge had stood.

“Ireland, Linda, take the Birds, I want us clear of these. Scotland, Cornwall, focus on Knightraven. Wales, you’re with me…we’re taking Elsa.”

“This is the worst assignment ever,” Linda said, waving some of the birds from her head as they crashed against her freshly trimmed hair. She snorted some feathers out, looking for Ireland as she inspected the fresh tears in her designer uniform. “Ms. Chu is going to go insane when she sees the amount of bird shit on my boots.”

“I really feel that this isn’t the most appropriate time for you to be worrying about your bloody shoes, Linda.”

“Yes, well, eyes on the prize, isn’t it Clodhga,” Linda pointed towards the Birds coalescing into humanoid structures.

“Bird people, how very unoriginal.” Linda sighed, as she banked to avoid the remaining few individual birds. Ireland and Linda landed to face the group of seven. Clodhga bared her teeth while Linda examined her fingernails. Since she’d been stranded on this plane of existence she’d become a very self-involved woman, and a modelling contract and a semi-retirement from superheroics had left her a very shallow and callous woman. Of course it was all designed to mask the fact her own reality was no longer there, everything she’d ever known and loved was completely destroyed, even though she knew the others knew that as well.

Still, being insufferable had its own rewards, namely all the men she could physically manage.

“I’m not entirely sure how you’d want to go about this, Clod.”

“Clodhga or Ireland, please, Linda,” The Green haired woman Scowled in return.

“Whatever you say, Clog. I was simply saying, I don’t really want to have to hit anything. I’m sort of here as a supervisory role, really,” Linda spoke with as much authority as she could muster, to be met with Clodhga’s middle finger and disdain.

“You’re going to have to hit as much as I am, Linda.” Her green eyes sparkled as she leapt forwards, her fist colliding with the first monster’s ‘head’ in a puff of feathers and squawking, knocking the creature down onto it’s back.

“They go down easy…” Ireland began, as Linda waded in, thrashing her arms into the monsters as fast as she could manage.

“…but they don’t stay down very easily,” Clodhga finished. Linda’s face dropped, as the beasts she’d felled got to their feet.

“Oh, Bloody nora.”

“Bloody bastard kicked me in the knackers.” Cornwall yelled as he fell to the floor. He observed the battle between Scotland and the possessed Knightraven for a moment, noting that Scotland wasn’t the neatest fighter and Knightraven was clearly the more athletic of the two. Leaping across all of Scotland’s lunges, he could see the frustration written on his face.

Of course, Cornwall couldn’t do anything since it felt as though his body was shutting down and he’d never felt this sick in his entire life.

“STAND STILL,” Scotland yelled as the bare foot of Knightraven hit the side of his face, dirtying the final piece of pristine beard with mud from the planes. Scotland stumbled, baring his teeth and punching the ground with anger. “STAND STILL!” He charged forward, throwing his fists in a flurry, missing the agile fictional warrior with every attempt.

Knightraven pulled his knees into his chest, kicking Scotland in the chest and sending him onto his back into the mud. “Braveheart you ain’t,” Knightraven said with a sarcastic twist to his voice. As he landed close to Scotland, the bearded man lay there for a moment watching as Knightraven raised his fists, ready to punch his fallen frame and chose his moment carefully.

As Knightraven’s fists reached halfway point, the opening was massive. Scotland punched towards, upper-cutting Knightraven from his crouching position and into the air. Scotland quickly got to his feet, giving the fictional man a swift kick to the stomach, before pulling him to his feet.

“Here’s what we call a Glasgow Kiss, y’bastard!” Pulling his head backwards, Scotland shot it forward again with astonishing speed, breaking and spattering Knightraven’s nose against his face. The fictional man screamed out with pain manifest in an unprovable way, before grasping at his face.

“How did you do that?” he asked.

“Because, Laddie, us Scots are even harder than those little pansy bastards called the English.”

As Brian and Wales landed near Elsa, she cracked her neck and took a few steps towards them.

“You realize I’ve killed monsters far larger and more powerful than you, Brian,” she spat.

Brian took a step towards her, his face grim. “I realize I wasted precious child material on you, Elsa. You’re not worth my time or my effort.”

She snarled and took a running jump towards them. As she expected, they parted ways, thinking she would sail past them like some rank amateur. Instead, scissoring her legs, she kicked Wales in the face, the point of her high heels cutting his face open and sending him hitting the deck.

Brian received a fist to the face, but on his recline from the impact he managed to secure a grip around her wrist, flinging her from her flight path and into the ground, where she bounced and threw her feet backwards, kicking into Brian with such force that, instead of sending him flying back, she impaled him on her shoes.

He coughed, blood spattering from his open wounds as she retracted her feet. She reversed onto her back and flipped to her front. “I was trained by the best martial artists the world over, Brian.”

“Tst,” Brian held her chest and stared at her hard. “You were trained by martial artists, people who studied form and all that rubbish, Elsa.” Brian took a few steps towards her, taking a deep breath and letting his arms hang loose. “I’ve not been trained at all, but I’ve had something that you’re never going to have.” He pulled his head back as Elsa thrust her fist forwards, whizzing past his ear.

Brian shot his fist up into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her, as she stumbled back a few steps.

“I’ve got an older brother, and NOBODY beats you up worse than a sibling!” Brian thrust his hand forward but Elsa copied his technique and twisted her head out the way. Tensing his fist, Brian changed his attack midway through, elbowing down into her collarbone, which snapped with a loud, brittle sound.

“Misdirection, shouting, fighting like you want to hurt the person more than you’ve ever hurt anything before, this is how brothers fight, Elsa.” He twisted his wrist around, punching her straight in the stomach not once, but twice. He cupped her chin as she let dribble drip from her limp bottom lip.

“This is how proper English people fight, Elsa. Not people who live in the States and expect us to all drink tea, eat scones and shit politeness. We’re bastards, you forget. We controlled most of the world at one point in history. Not America. Not India. Not Australia. Not Germany. ENGLAND. THE BRITISH BLOODY EMPIRE.” He flicked her head upwards and thrust his flat palm towards Elsa’s throat, hitting her in the windpipe as he swept her feet out from under her with a flat palm.

“We did that because we fight harder than anyone else with what little we can find. We don’t have good guns, we don’t have the best missiles; we just have the SAS, the British Army, the RAF and the RN. We win our wars simply because we punch harder than anyone else on the planet.”

“Don’t bloody forget it, alright?” He stomped his foot down on her face, knocking her clean out.

The ivy snapped away as Henge pulled Druid close to its stone form, its cracked fists punching again and again into his face, until his bushy teeth fell to the ground, leaving a wheezing sap weeping mess before it. Druid stumbled backward, slowly beginning to shrink.

“The Rocks and Earth were here long before the plants split it and used it as their moorings, Druid. Stone Henge has been here the longest of all those monuments to the Earth and its powers. You will not rob me of my place with your pitiful magic.”

As Druid reached a third of his giant size, he managed to slip from Henge’s grasp, noticing he was on the loosing front. The Bird creatures had been disabled, Elsa was unconscious and Knightraven, even though he was possessed, was crying like a tiny child.

“No, oh no! You do not escape from this, Druid.” Henge lunged forwards, using his own mystical powers to shrink himself down to a more normal human size. Setting off after Druid, he threw out a conjurer’s cone, trapping Druid in a shrinking cone.

“Pathetic? Did you really think you could have bettered the Magical powers of England with your little spells, Druid? You’re barely worth my notice.” Henge pulled the tiny sorcerer towards its angry, oblong face and snarled. “Punishment, I think, should be swift and severe.” The Henge cast its gaze towards the form of Britannia who was slowly regaining her size and sinking underneath the dirt of the Salisbury Planes.

“For thousands of years I have sat, waiting to be revivified by a battle or a mystic with the potential to touch England with their power. Something to heal her lands of the decay and disturbing amount of hate that has permeated the soils for so long. Now, I see that there is someone who equals my hatred to take my place.” Henge smiled and threw Druid into the ground.

“Take my place, Anthony Ludgate Druid. Take my place and let Stone Henge become WOOD HENGE!”

The stone man slammed his fists into the ground repeatedly as Druid began to change. His body separated, and began to move into a wide circle. His flesh, which no longer really existed as flesh, became wood, creaking and groaning against the changes being forced upon it.

As Brian and the other Captains watched, Druid was transformed into a Wooden approximation of Stone Henge itself. His screams distorted into the creaking of the wood warping with the heat and water of the planes.

“That’s one way to deal with things, I suppose,” Linda said, staring into the glowing screen of her mobile.

“So, uh…what now?” Brian asked, looking to the other Captains.

Linda stepped forward and walked towards Henge. “Now, Brian, you let the professionals take care of it all. Stone Henge, you’ve been invited into the Roma Initiative. We’re going to give you a place to stay and you’re going to be allowed to roam England and do what you like provided we call on you for advice and missions, alright?”

Linda rolled her eyes, her tone flat and dead. She didn’t want to be the one delivering this, not when their team had been such a massive failure. Wales had a cut that would probably leave a scar, Cornwall was probably infertile and she’d broken the knuckles on her favourite diamanté gloves when she punched a bird man so hard it went through its chest into the ground.

Henge looked through the group and his gaze stopped on Brian.

“No, I don’t think I will be coming with you.” He began, taking a few steps back towards the now Wooden Henge.

“What?” Linda asked, almost dropping her phone. How could someone refuse her?

“My business with most of you is complete. Braddock, you and I will meet again soon, at the Bonding. Until then…”

Henge sunk into the ground, mud and silt bubbling underneath it’s feet as the peat gobbled it up, leaving nothing more than bubbling top soil.

“ Well…now what?” Scotland asked, looking from Captain to Captain.

“Now we take the prisoners home and we ask Morganna what Henge meant by ‘the bonding’. Aside from it sounding like a sex club,” Linda began, gesturing for Brian to pick up Elsa.

“Why me?” he asked.

“Your ex, mate,” Linda said with a wry smile. “I don’t want to touch your cast off’s.” She laughed to herself.

As Cornwall hoisted Knightraven over his shoulder, Wales fell in next to Brian and whispered to him. “Why didn’t you use Excalibur?” he asked, removing his glasses.

“For the same reason you don’t use your weapon, Wales. Sometimes it’s much more fun to break your knuckles on someone’s face.” Wales smiled and walked on a bit further ahead.

However, Brian was hiding something. He felt a connection to the sword, something powerful and, as odd as it sounded to him, pure. He didn’t want to be the one to taint it with blood. He wanted to care for it and keep it loved and pristine.

He cast his gaze from Elsa’s limp form to the Sword hilt by his side. Could it be possible for a man to be in love with a Sword?

Ridiculous.

“So, what happens now?” Brian asked, looking from Captain to Captain.

“We’ve got a lot to clean up across Britain,” Cornwall began, looking at their prisoners and to his other warriors.

“Roma’s said we need to find our own places of power across the country. Add that to the fact that there’s god knows how many different forms of Folklore loose across the country, and STONE HENGE just got up and walked away from us, we’re pretty much stuck in a situation we don’t want to be in,” Cornwall continued.

Brian shook his head. Places of Power, Folklore running rampage across the face of his country, and now Stone Henge itself getting up and wandering off. It made him concerned.

“So, it’s just us then?” Brian asked, looking at the men and women assembled before him. Five individuals in the care of an entire country.

“I’d be concerned if it was anyone else,” Brian said, looking at the others. He scratched at his stubble, and cast a glance over his shoulder.

“Anyone got any plans, because I can feel a pint coming on,” Brian said with a grin. Cornwall’s eyes lit up, and Scotland gave Ireland a firm slap on the bottom before pointing towards Plymouth.

“I know a bloody good strip club that way; they use pixies and kelpies as their women. Never had such a good night as when Folklore was involved,” He rest of the group looked at the rough around the edges Scotsman before he cracked a broken and bloodied-tooth smile.

“Well, might as well be honest right. We’re all in this together.”

“I guess we should start there then, I mean after we’ve dropped these sods off, of course,” He cracked a smile and began to lift off the ground.

“So, are we still Excalibur?” Wales asked, as he took off after Brian and the others.

“I wasn’t aware that’s what we were calling ourselves,” Clodgha replied, brushing some of her green hair from her face.

“We’re staying with Excalibur,” Brian said, as he finished his ascent and powered towards the city of London. It was at least a three hour flight.

“Well, what exactly do we do next?” Scotland asked, scratching some of the blonde hairs from his head and looking at them as if they were an ancient artefact.

“Firstly, I want to find my sister,” Brian began, before looking back at the others in his group.

“Then I want to find my Brother, and try and rebuild Britain. I already have an inkling where my place of power will be, but I need to find out more about whatever this place of power actually IS.”

“ It’s a mooring, Brian,” Cornwall continued. He seemed to have all the answers. “Mine’s Karrek Loos y’n Koos, which means the Mount set in the Wood. It’s St. Michaels Mount off the coast of Cornwall, It’s where I’ve tethered my powers,” He brushed a hand through his white hair as he looked across the scenery below them.

“Well then,” Brian began, looking back at the others behind him.

“I guess it’s time we really find out what Britain has in store for its newest Captain.”

He smiled to himself. He finally felt a little bit of happiness for the first time since Meggan died. Hopefully, he could rebuild himself as well as England on his little trial.

“Onwards and upwards, Chaps,” Brian said to himself, as he broke away from the group.

Roma and Morganna stood over the large table in the central chamber. Morganna’s hands on her hips, she leaned in closer to the daughter of Merlyn.

“Are you sure this is a good idea? Plucking her from the Soul Gem?”

“Excalibur was destroyed, Morganna. We needed something that could contain the powers of Britain, as well as give Brian a focal rallying point. There’s no point telling him the Sword of England is in pieces at the bottom of the wreckage that is Otherworld. It’d be like telling the greatest sprinter in the Universe that they’re going to have their legs amputated,” She looked at the Sorcerer Supreme’s former lover, and sighed.

“I didn’t want to do it either, but we needed to her to form this connection with Brian. She’s the only one with the past history to do it, and frankly, she’s just as important to the mytho’s of England as he is. I think we just keep this between us, what do you say?”

Morganna nodded and turned on her heels, heading towards the door.

“Let’s never talk of this again, right?”

“Right,” Roma replied. “Right.”