The triangle started popping up all around the house. It would manifest itself in dark corners and architectural details and patterns in textiles. Knots in the house’s rough hewn beams would stare out at you like eyes. Knots that they didn’t remember being there before.
They found it amusing at first, there was nothing inherently malignant to the shape. Later, Stan would try to eradicate it to no avail. He threw that rug in the entryway out on four different occasions. He burned it once. It somehow found its way back.
“Though no man, no matter how great, can know his destiny, some lives have been foretold, Merlin… Arthur is not just a king, he is the Once and Future King. Take heart, for when Albion’s need is greatest, Arthur will rise again. It has been a privilege to have known you, young warlock. The story we have been a part of will live long in the minds of men.”