Chapter 1 – Prologue – The Dark Celt –

The magus looked up at the hills behind their position and the tall dark haired woman standing on an outcropping. Her body was covered in blue tattoos and she wore a Torque about her neck. She leaned on a sword as she met his gaze. In her other hand was a long bow with a notched arrow. She dipped her head revealing her hair was all bound with cord in braids about her head to prevent it from fouling her vision.

He smiled. Winter had come.

Winter was known as the "Dark Maiden of the Woods" and her archery skills were legendary. Only the magus Merlin knew why. She was not human. She was a Dark Elf or Changeling he had summoned many years ago and now she was his ally.

She stood tall for a woman and thin. Her leggings under her skirt was made of thick leather to protect her legs. She looked like one of the mythical Amazons and he was very sure that was intentional to cause fear. Her upper body was covered by a top that was leather cording that was very tight and revealing of her upper body which would prove a distraction in her favor, he mused. Much of her visible skin was covered with blue paintings and designs. He knew that some of the colorations were from her own natural formed skin that was tattooed as well. It was how she always went to battle. She was younger looking than any other there, but was older by centuries. Only he, Merlin, had seen her true form, a dark elf of the woods, a being of legend, now his friend and personal protector.

Winter gazed as the first rush came toward her. Deftly she lifted her bow and drew back her arrow. It slammed though the eye of the first man dropping him instantly. She hit three more before the group was close enough that she could fight. Smiling she cut into the first two.

Merlin nodded.

##

By nightfall the field was the Celts. The Romans, these small formation fighters. Winter had gone back to the woods. Only Merlin knew where to find her.

He walked into a clearing and then closed his eyes. "I know you are near fair one."

"Yes."

Winter stepped from the trees. He opened his eyes and saw she was in her natural form. She was a head larger than he and wore armor that seemed to add to her beauty rather than be practical for a battle. Her skin was a color similar to lavender and her thick dark hair fell to her waist. About the body enhancing armor were her tattoos of old signs. Her upper arm sported a bandage with a crimson stain. So she could be injured.

"Allow me to tend that."

She looked at her arm. "It is nothing."

"It is the least I can do."

She considered and then nodded. She dropped onto a rock and allowed him to attend the wound. He used his herbs and bound it. She looked down. "Gently done, my friend. My thanks."

"A pleasure my lady."

##

It had been nearly a thousand years since Winter had fought Caesar's Romans. Though her friend Boudicca had suffered horribly at the hands of the Romans and Aurora had sought and found her revenge by killing several Roman families who lived on the frontier of Roman.

The Dark Lady of the Woods was often just a shadow and a trick of the light. She had gone from being real, to myth, to legend, only coming when summoned by one with power enough to offer her what she wished.

She knelt in the trees looking out at the sea side castle of Wyvern. In her true form it was hard to distinguish her from the shadows, unless she wished to be seen. This castle of Scotland as the people were now called, no longer Picts, was being attacked by the Vikings. She watched. All the magus of the castle had to do was offer her what she wished and summon her and she would defeat these invaders.

She watched as the sun went down and above her Gargoyles woke.

She smiled inwardly. Perhaps this was the reason why she had not been summoned. Though stone by day, the gargoyles on this old ground had been there for generations and were fearsome warriors by night.

Superstitions and the sword ruled this age. This was the age of fear and doubt. She well knew the pact between man and gargoyle at this castle. She was, however, drawn to the fight as she always was being the warrior she was.

She knelt in the underbrush watching as the sun set and the Gargoyles came to life after a day of sleep. The leader who slept on the highest tower with the others about him was truly enormous in wingspan and stature. She had heard a rumor from the locals when she had traveled under the guise of Winter, her human form, that this was the only named gargoyle. He was a giant and had a warrior's grace as he repelled the invaders.

Her elven ears caught something behind her. A breath. She moved slowly and drew her bow and notched an arrow swiftly and silently. She turned swiftly and froze seeing who was with her.

"You really do like humans, don't you sister." Came silky voice from the figure. He stepped forward. He was shorter than her by a head and shoulders and lacked her dark coloring.

She turned back. "What are you doing here, young one?" She asked.

"Oberon sent me, dear sister."

"Oh? Why does he want me?"

"He would not say, but he knew I knew how to find you since you are often…reclusive."

She laughed and drew herself up to her full height. The sound was lyric and happy and any who heard it would have thought there were laughing fairies in the night. Truth be told there were since she was exactly that.

He floated before her. His name was Puck, a trickster and servant to Oberon. She was nearly a thousand years older than he was, though they were both immortal children of Oberon. She the elder, was a warrior, and he the younger, a trickster and jester to the lord of Avalon.

She brushed off her knee and looked at her brother. "Well Puck. It would seem you always can find me."

"I am your brother, Pern."

"Yes, I love you too."

"Come." He said opening a portal.

She sighed. "Very well."

As she stepped through the portal and it closed behind her, she had no idea the chaos and destruction that would be wrought and that she, perhaps, could have prevented.