The Lone Druid
There were times in Mordred's life when he felt that there was a hidden context that stalked his conscious. It would catch him at certain moments, taking him by surprise, forcing him to question his every decision. Who was he? What was his point in life?
He was a young man who lived on the edges on life. He had never known his mother, had only the vaguest memory of his father. His whole existence had been on the move. He had moved from camp to camp passing through the hands of different people. A couple had left a passing memory, such as Iseldir, a kindly man the young boy had taken a liking too.
For Mordred it was to become a familiar happening. At the moment when he was beginning to set down roots, an event would occur which force the young Druid boy away from the place he considered as home. The moment he had started to feel a belonging it would become nothing but a fleeting memory.
It would usually begin with a feeling he had. A sudden unease would start to take hold of the Druid camp. He would be aware of people pointing at him, talking about him in whispers. All of a sudden what had begun to feel like home suddenly felt like a prison.
What had he done to deserve such a fate? All he wanted was to belong somewhere, live with people who loved and respected him. But it would always end the same somehow, with people doubting him making him feel like he was an outsider, a bad influence.
One night he had walked with Iseldir the moon high in the sky.
"Why don't people like me?" he asked the Druid elder.
Iseldir never answered any important question quickly he always took time to consider what he'd been asked. He had put his hand on Mordred's shoulder and looked into his sad blue eyes.
"Sometimes Mordred there is a force at work that you cannot influence. The most important thing you can do is to stay true to yourself and those who you care for."
In his later years it was advice that Mordred always remembered at times of stress and uncertainty. In his endless journey to find the sense of belonging he craved for, he would always endeavour to be honest to himself and others. At times it was hard, but then Mordred's whole existence had been difficult.
When he had taken the decision to leave the Druid camp behind, he knew in a sense he was leaving himself behind as well. Say nothing of Kara the love of his life. To go into the outside world he would have to keep secrets, keep his powers hidden. But he sensed if he did that maybe he would find a life that he could fit into.
There was also another longing that he had held deep in his heart. To be reunited with Morgana, the young woman who had fought to save his life all those years ago. He had often thought of her in his hard times, the soft touch of her hand as she ruffled his hair tenderly. That soothing voice of her's as she comforted him. It would be nice to see her again and thank her for all that she had done for him. So he set out that day to track her down, with his memories keeping him going. All of a sudden he had felt the past begin to disappear into the background, and a new hope was born.
