My eyes landed on the broken pieces of my sword, of Claidheamh an Ùrachaidh. As I gingerly picked up the pieces, my eyes landed on the thrumming magical light of Excalibur. The words of Nimue and countless others passed through my mind's eye in an instant. Words that encourage me to pick up the blade once again. They were so tempting, more so now that I no longer had a weapon. I could grab Merlin’s Staff, but it was nowhere as charged as it was when I first started using it. 