“Ack! I’m gonna be aate! Emily, whyyy?! Why did you oversleep!?”

  I sprint, helter-skelter, down the stairs and wrench open my front door, my college textbooks bouncing uncomfortably in my rucksack. The heavy door sms shut behind me as I fumble for my phone to check for any messages as I sprint across the road without looking both ways very thoroughly. I’ve crossed here hundreds of times and I’ve always been fine. Today will be no different-!

  WHAM!!!

  Everything hurts. Sudden agony tears through me, and I feel myself go tumbling, my rucksack splitting open and sending books everywhere. I come to rest on the curb, and my eyes fall on what hit me. A white truck, the windscreen cracked in the lower left corner. The driver’s staring at me in shocked, bnk-faced horror, obviously freaking out about hitting a pedestrian.

  He wrenches his seatbelt off and thrusts the door open, scrambling out and rushing for me.

  “Oh fuck, oh my god, I didn’t see you! Phone, where’s my phone, I have to call an ambunce-!”

  I can feel a strange lethargy sweeping over me. Nothing hurts anymore… I’m just… really tired…

  My eyes flutter open. I’m lying on a bed in the whitest room I’ve ever seen. My head feels fuzzy, but I’m alert, enough to function, at least. There’s a strange woman in unfamiliar garb, who is performing some bizarre ritual with a metal box. It’s making funny sounds, and she’s nodding to it like she understands.

  She turns to face me, and blinks. “Ah, you’re… awake? That’s good! Can you look this way?”

  She holds up a hand to her right, and I swivel my gaze to it. She then holds her other hand up to her left. “And now this one?”

  I obediently swivel my eyes to follow, and she approaches, pulling a small cylinder from her clothing.

  “This might be a little bright, but I need to check your pupils. Hold still, please.”

  She raises the tube, and brilliant light floods my left eye. I clench my teeth, trying to close my eyelids, but cool, gentle fingers hold my lids open. “Very good. And now the other one, it’ll be over in a moment…”

  My right eye suffers the same torment, but the woman seems very pleased, dabbing a soft fabric over my eyes to wipe my instinctual tears away. “Let me just get the doctor. I’ll be right back, alright?”

  I frown as the woman leaves. A doctor? What happened? Where… am I?

  The woman returns, leading a man in dark clothes, a loose, long white coat on over them. He seems fairly young, with short red hair. He smiles at me. “I see. Well done, nurse. Please continue your rounds. I’ll take it from here.”

  He sits down near me, holding a small wooden pnk and a stick. “I’m Doctor Forrester. I’ll be completely honest, we had no idea if you would wake up. It’s been three days since your accident, and you were in very bad shape. However, you seem to be well on the road to recovery. We will have to keep you in for observation for at least a few days, but you should be free to go home by the end of the week.”

  I have no idea what he’s talking about. He continues, “Your phone was unfortunately destroyed in the collision, and we’ve been unable to contact your parents. Do you have anyone else we could call?”

  I blink at him. He coughs, a little awkwardly. “Do you… Remember your name? Your address? Anything?”

  I slowly shake my head. The fuzziness hasn’t cleared, and I can feel how scratchy and dry my throat is. I part my lips and croak, “Water… please…”

  His expression clears, the look of a man who has something he can do. He nods. “Of course! NURSE! Could I get some water for the patient?”

  “Yes, Doctor!”

  I can hear feet moving quickly outside the room, and he stands, brushing his coat down. “I’ll be back ter. It’s not unusual to have trouble remembering things for at least a short while after an accident like yours. If you do remember anything, please tell the nurse to send for me right away. Get some rest, and try not to overexert yourself.”

  He leaves, his bck shoes squeaking on the floor. I slowly sit up, my back resting on thick, soft pillows. The woman, Nurse, returns with a clear goblet of some kind filled about half full with the purest water imaginable. It’s crystal clear, and the coldness is divine as I slowly let her trickle it, piecemeal, down my throat, soothing away the roughness and aching. She smiles at me as she sets the empty vessel down with a quiet clinking noise.

  “There we go. Now, you get some rest. If you need anything, there’s a button right there for you to press. It’ll let one of us know. Now, make sure you stay in bed and recuperate!”

  She steps out, closing the door behind her. I gently stroke a hand over the coverlet, feeling how smooth and soft it is. I can feel vague fragments of memories, unbound from their moorings, swirling inside my head. Buildings, people, pces and things that make no sense to me.

  I find myself slowly drifting between dreaming and wakefulness, and I have no idea how much time passes, but a voice from outside my room draws me from the threshold of slumber. Nurse. She’s talking to someone and then…The door opens. A tall, slender woman in a tunic and trousers, her dark hair pulled back from her face and bound behind her head, enters. She moves with a warrior’s grace, and waits till Nurse has left us.

  The woman approaches my bed, and stares down at me. “Do you remember my voice…?”

  A spark that turns into a rush of connection, disjointed images snapping into pce where they belong. I draw in a sharp breath, my eyes widening. Then, I look up at the woman.

  “I remember your voice well, old friend. Though, I do not recall you having such a form the st we met. Is this some new sorcery of which I should be aware?”

  The woman smiles, then drops to one knee, head bowed. “Gods be praised. All hail Arthur, High King of Britain!”

  I struggle a little more upright. “Gawain, you must expin. Where am I? Is this Avalon?”

  “Not truly. This pce is an infirmary. You were brought here by the people called Paramedics, who have given you over into the care of their learned physicians to attempt to heal you. They call it a hospital. It is named, the Avalon Community Hospital.”

  I blink. “Sir Gawain, where are the others? Sir Gahad? Sir Bedivere? Sir Tristan and Sir Ector?”

  Gawain shakes her head. “They are elsewhere. Not all of us awoke, Your Majesty. Many still slumber. I awoke only recently, before you, and have been learning of this much-changed Britain we now find ourselves in. As such, I have convinced the staff here that I am your aunt, Gwen, come to take you home. My apologies, but you… Are not the same figure you once were.”

  I reach for the small reflective disk Gawain hands me. Raising it to my face, I gasp. Long, blonde hair, much like it once was, but silkier, finer. Deep blue eyes, a darker shade than my grey. High cheekbones, and rose-red lips. I drop the mirrored disk, and look down at myself. Slim arms, and… I stare at my chest. Where once had been muscle and strength, a woman’s curves have taken their pce.

  I sigh. “This body is… not my own. How did this happen?”

  Sir Gawain, her lovely face troubled, expins.

  “The Isle of Avalon was… unable to save your body from perishing, Sire. Mordred’s blows were too savage, and all we could save was your spirit. The Lady Nimue and Merlin conspired to release your soul into another suitable body should the chance come. That was in 537 A.D.”

  I stiffen. “And… What year is it now, Gawain?”

  My knight’s silence stretches for a long, long moment, before she speaks. “It is the year 2025 A.D, my liege… It has taken almost 1500 years for you to return…”

  I can feel my heartbeat racing, and I look down at my trembling fingers. “I… I see. Help me, old friend. I wish to leave this pce…”

  Gawain nods, her fist pressed to her chest, and rises. She strides to the door, and knocks on it. “Could we get a wheelchair? My niece would like to be discharged, please.”

  Within moments, a strange, wheeled contraption is brought, and I’m gently deposited into it by Gawain’s strong arms. She pushes me through the halls of this Avalon Hospital, and I crane my neck, drinking in the sights of people bustling to and fro, carrying things and moving with purpose.

  We pass through the threshold, and bright sunlight shines down, causing me to blink and squint. The sounds of wind roaring and soughing comes regurly, and when my vision adjusts to the light, Ii see why. A road of bck, painted with white and yellow lines, is host to huge metal wolves with wheels that prowl at immense speeds up and down. There are people inside them, and they don’t seem to be phased in the least at their untoward situation. I instinctively reach for my beloved sword, only to find nothing.

  “Gawain, where is my sword? Where is Excalibur?!”

  My knight sighs. “We have no idea. We lost it sometime after your first death, and have failed to locate it… Merlin has been trying their best, but…”

  A short silence. “I think it would be best for them to expin. They gave me your belongings, one of which has your current address on it. There’s also a set of keys. I’m going to take you there, then summon Merlin to meet you.”

  I nod. There’s a slight undercurrent of pain running through my whole body, and I wince. Gawain swears under her breath, helping me into one of the strange metal beasts. “Here, Your Majesty. Drink this. Merlin thought it might help.”

  I take the small fsk, draining the contents. It tastes revolting, but my whole body warms up, suffused with lively vigour. Taking the small card with my address on it, I turn it over. There’s a small painting of my new form on it, with a name. ‘Emily Jackson’.

  I feel an uncomfortable pang in my chest. “Gawain, the doctor kept talking about an accident, a collision. What did he mean by that?”

  Gawain nods as she performs some strange rite, waking the metal beast from its slumber and encouraging it into motion. “The maid in whose body you now find yourself was struck by a vehicle, a truck, and she was… killed. Then, your spirit awoke within her, allowing you to keep the body alive as you settled into it.”

  I sigh, my borrowed heart troubled. It takes but a handful of minutes for Gawain to take us to this Emily’s home in her metal beast, and with care, she helps me stand. I slowly make my way to the door, and try the key that my knight presses into my hand. It turns, and the door opens at a push from the woman, her strong arms supporting me.

  She helps me up the stairs to the room my body must have called her own, and sits me down on the bed. “I will call for Merlin, you take this time to regain some strength.”

  She steps away, pulling a strange magic ste from her clothes, and I look down at the card again. “I’m sorry, Lady Emily Jackson. Your body is now mine… and I, King Arthur, vow to make sure that my return to Britain in its time of need shall not be in vain. And you shall be hailed as a valiant knight and given all honour and ceremony in your memory…”