The child grew by leaps and bounds and one day drew forth the enchanted sword from the stone. And the people cried, "Behold, our king!"
He loved and lost and fought many a battle as king. He created a kingdom remembered in song and legend and married a fine woman.
Finally he faced his greatest challenge, The Red Bull. The Red Bull was huge, and roared with a fire so strong that it burned the ground where it touched. The Red Bull had driven all the unicorns of the land into the sea, and there they danced among the waves where he could not harm them. They battled day and night for a week, but finally the bull wounded the King gravely. His blood showered the ground and where it fell grew flowers that would not burn nor die. They were so beautiful the Red Bull could not trample them, so he became imprisoned in a ring of them. There he sat, and gazed at the flowers until the snows of winter turned him to stone. The victory had a price, the King was drained and lay still.
And lo, Guinevere, wife of the slain King, boarded the ship for the West. She sailed as the mists of Avalon closed around her, and the birds cried a pitiful tune. On the ship lay the shrouded body of the man she loved. The tears of the silkies glittered in the wake of the white sailed ship.
Some say she never smiled again, but some say when she reached the far shore she smiled as she was re-united with her love. Who can know for sure what occurred on that far shore?