Writer/translator : Saturne
Co-writer/betareader : CloudFactory
Disclaimer : Of course BBC Merlin is not mine and I make no money out of my fanfics.
Author's note : So I decided to translate my own fic from french to english. I'm doing my best but if you see any typo, weird sentence or grammar atrocity, please tell me, I love the english language and I'm trying to improve.
This is a merthur fanfic, but the romance is not the main focus of the story.
Enjoy!
oOo
Shimmering on the lakeshore
The night was pale. City lights outshone the stars that once helped travellers find their way home.
All was quiet. Just a few wrinkles on the surface disrupted the lake of Avalon. The sounds of water lapping on the edge couldn't even cover the city's distant humming.
An engine's rumble. Headlights splashing the lake's surface and the advertising hoarding near the road. The car drove away – silence and darkness fell back.
A bubble popped out of the water.
Then another.
The lake's depths suddenly exploded with blinding light. It flooded the surroundings, so bright it looked like it was broad day. It only lasted for a few seconds before everything went dark once again.
In this desert place on the outskirts of the city, there was no one to see the clawed hand shoot up from the water with crooked fingers. No one to see the withered face contort. No one to see its black eyeballs look up at the starless night.
The blue-skinned creature wasn't much taller than a human's hand, and its body was glowing like a firefly. Its wings started to flutter so fast they became blurred. Its reflection sparkled on the water while the Sidhe rose in fits and starts.
It didn't fly far away and collapsed on the dark asphalt. Its tiny hands scratched the ground as it shook violently, its twisted mouth showing pointy teeth. The wings fell apart first, holes tearing the translucent membrane.
"Emrys…" the Sidhe hissed in a harsh voice while its body was ripping apart like boiled leather. "… EMRYS!"
Its skin tarnished and from blue, became grey. Its voice still resonated through the worlds once its body turned into ashes.
Another car drove by, and the movement of air scattered the ashes away. By the time the vehicle had disappeared behind the advertising hoarding, the wind started to blow like it never did in Albion. Trees were howling, branches bending and snapping.
As the grass turned yellow, as the trees withered, as leaves dried out and whirled down, the lake of Avalon bristled with glimmers from another world.
Hundreds, thousands of Sidhes rose from the water. They crawled on the lakeside and the central islet in a swarming, glowing crowd. Some of them tried to flap their wings and fly, but failed. They all eventually fell back, face contorting, and seized on the ground, crying in agony.
The glimmers went out one by one as the creatures curled up and died with Emrys' name as their last breath.
There were no more than a dozen Sidhes still alive, lying on the ashes of their dead brethrens, when one of those broken winged creatures looked up to see a human figure standing there.
An old man with a white beard and white hair was approaching, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the layers of ashes. The Sidhe raised an arm – the blue was fading from the skin.
"Emrys…" it whispered as its wings crumbled into dust. Face veiled by shadows, the sorcerer leaned on a magic staff, looking down at its agony. Emrys was wearing old jeans and a worn out jacket. His knees cracked loudly when he knelt.
Feeling its life fading away, the Sidhe struggled to keep its eyes open when the sorcerer's hand picked it up, lifting it close to the wrinkled face.
His woolly hat hid most of his white hair blowing in the wind. Emrys was staring down at the creature, his eyes stern and ancient. The Sidhe knew the sorcerer was listening, but all that came out of its mouth were a few words and a hissing respiration:
"Emrys... hurry... you have to... the Old Religion is..."
It didn't have a chance to finish. Its body was shaking violently and crumbling off.
The sorcerer watched it perish on his palm until all that was left was a handful of ashes immediately blown away by a gust of wind. All around him, no leaf was left on the howling trees, and grass had turned greyish and dry. The last Sidhes's glimmers died out. Soon, everything went dark.
When the wind stopped blowing and silence fell, Merlin leaned on his staff to get up. He looked down at his own reflection on the lake of Avalon's surface. The image of an old man with hunched shoulders stared back, his eyes impenetrable.
