I had been cleaning out my chamber when I found the following scribbled
on a sheet of scrap paper.  It brought back images from before my
journey...before I had forgotten even this:

Memory 1 -- A scrap of paper:

"Being weary of the worlds empires, bow down to you, Master of the still
stars and of the flaming door."  ~ William Butler Yeats

"Warriors, Warriors we call ourselves.  We fight for splendid virtue,
for high endeavor, for sublime wisdom, therefore we call ourselves
warriors."  ~ Aunguttara Nikaya

 I climbed the steps, a knight in only my heart and hopes.  The world
from which I'd left has turned many times sense last it was blessed with
the presence of True Knights.  The world I leave is tainted with Shadows.
 I reach the landing (thanking God there are no more steps) and pause
unsure if I should continue on.  It takes all of my will power not to go
rushing back the way I came.  Back to the familiar shadows or no.
 A voice in my head taunts me - "You are no Knight.  Turn back!
Renounce this foolishness!"

 I close my eyes to block it out but it only becomes louder.  My head
starts to ache and, as I open them, my eyes begin to water.
 "NO!"  Another voice cuts through the first as like a blade.  It is the
voice of my spirit, of my father and mother, of God.  It is the voice of all I hold dear.
"I'VE COME TOO FAR.
I MAY FAIL BUT I WON'T RETREAT!"
 I continue onward.  My footsteps echo along the landing.  I enter a
hallway that appears to be made of mirror glass.  Hundreds of images of
me trudge along offering me their silent company.
 The hall seems to stretch on into infinity (and who knows perhaps it
does).  At last, I reach the object of my sojourn.  A door, made of
black marble so well polished it shines like the mirrors around me,
stands in front of me issuing a final dare.

 I open the door . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and find
therein a land where honor is not yet a thing of lost dreams.  A
cobblestone road runs on the other side to which I look.  It leads to an
Iron Gate and brick wall, to towers that touch the tips of the clouds
and banners of bright color and even brighter ideals (that they
represent).  It leads to Camelot.
 The first voice returns briefly before allowing me to enter.  "This is
not the end.  One day you'll fall and I'll be there . . .waiting to
snare you."
 I push it aside (this time without the aide of the second voice).  I
step through the door and onto the road.  I look back in time to see the
door shirking out of existence.  I turn back to the castle and, taking
another step, end one journey to begin another.  To Camelot.

 "The Soul Selects her own society----Then----shuts the Door----"  ~
Emily Dickinson

 Once through, I realize my past before my seeking of this world has
become a dream.  I remember only fragments and even these are hazy.
Strangely this does not bother me.  One day, when I find myself and my
fate, I will find my missing past.  One day with the help of friends,
trial, and an ancient code reborn in this land.

 "I dreamt I was a butterfly.  I couldn't tell that I was dreaming, but
when I woke, I was I and not a butterfly.  Was I dreaming that I was the
butterfly, or was the butterfly dreaming that it was me?
 "Even if there is no difference between the butterfly and I, the
distinction isn't absolute.  And there is no relationship of cause and
effect."   ~SOSHI

 With the images came recollection.  I knew who I was and from whence I
had come.  I even knew my "name"...a past name I would abandon for that
of my new..."SilentSong."

Memory 2 -- Blanks are filled:

 My parents were killed when I was but 7.  Of that, the most important
time in my life, I can remember only the sight of their eyes, staring
but not seeing, and how cold it was.

 The next few years are still a blank...but I have a feeling they were a
blank before I came to this land.  Perhaps they will always be so.

 I remember finding a door and opening it.  I passed into a land
shrouded in darkness with only two beacons of light.  The first was a
cabin on the outskirts of town and the second a tower that; although I
could see, I knew it was an even farther journey than the cabin.

 I went to the cabin.

 Snow had covered the ground that day.  I found that the cabin had no
door on which to knock nor any windows that I could see.  I could feel
creatures of pure night watching me from just beyond the cabin's glade.
My boots were soaked through along with the rest of my clothes I pounded
my fist against wood hoping for some kind of an effect.  I didn't get one.

 Sitting down in the snow, I buried my head in my hands defeated.

 Then, he came out of the forest's edge.  He was old and his robe was
faded, but when he came, I could feel the creatures that had been
stalking me leave the area with great haste.

 With a wave of his hand he opened a door I had not and could never have
seen.  Taking me in, he was my teacher for a time.  His name was Kalvan.

 He taught me about the stars, this world, and others just beyond my
sight.  He told me of the creatures that over ran this land.  Of how he
hunted them, of their strengths and weaknesses.  In time, I too hunted
them.

 Years came and went I was 13 when Kalvan passed away.  Once he was gone
two beacons became one.  It was then that I turned toward the tower.  My
journey (of which I have already written) lasted two years.

 It brought me to another world, to Camelot and then to Tannisbury.  It
has even brought me to a new teacher, Lady Felena, my Knight and
sponsor.

 Now?  Now I am sitting at my desk writing all of this down so that I
might not forget again.