I do not own Merlin.
Images. Appearing faster and faster almost blurring before her eyes. In some, the pictures formed were ones of grief, regret of mistakes made, with sorrow so intense it was hard to breathe. Others were overshadowed by lingering sadness and pain though there was sunshine to the others in these moments of happiness and affection. Fewer still the moments of pure bursting joy of love so strong that the shadows and darkness were banished. These scattered images of love and joy amongst the turmoil of misery and anxious waiting, shone with their own light giving strength. With two people in the images so in love repeatedly appearing, sometimes separated, at other times together, with painful sorrow at separation and a happiness when together that there was little room for anything else.
Yet, throughout these images, the shadows, colours, light, there lied an underlying sense of urgency and anxiety. The feeling that something needed to be done, a decision to be made, a destiny to be formed. As this thought became realized a new scene appeared. A path that split in two at the foot of an ancient tree more than eight men arm span around so tall, grand, and noble one was in awe of its majesty. A tree that also seemed split in two, each half straining to follow the different paths on either side of the tree; paths that lead in almost opposite directions. One side of the tree, stately as it was, was twisted, scarred by time's war upon it; but, strong even in its pain ravaged by grief. For strength and perseverance allowed it to survive.
The other side with tree branches strong and true reaching in all directions, healthy full of life and vitality. Co-responding features of the tree to the paths below it seemed to lead to the different pictures already seen. Pain on the tortured side of the massive oak images close, so close to happening, near to the tree as if the path followed would bring it closer, imminent to the choice about to be made... if made. The joyful scenes blurry with distance but pulsing with a pure light as if to an unheard heartbeat on the opposite side of the gnarled half of the tree.
Standing at this fork in the dusty road gazing down one path then the other, hesitancy was clear on the woman's face. Each path clearly lead to the same destination, though how she knew this she could not say. Each path had pain and love granted to different degrees, each lead to the same place howbeit it seemed the arrival would be made in different ways and at different times. Strength and hope in both routes, love, joy, distress, and grief. Though with divergent inherent traits to each road taken. A decision finally reached the young woman took her first step down her chosen path and opened her eyes with a gasp. Heart racing with sweat dotting her brow as if just coming to a halt after racing a long distance.
Surrounded by familiar faces, forms cloaked in the traditional robes worn by the druid leaders her heart calmed and she breathed a cleansing sigh. The elder by her head gently wiped her brow and looked deep into her own hazel eyes and asked the question that hung anxiously in the air around her in the tent she was laying in, her home.
"What did you see, my child?"
Looking around her Lucinda spoke for the first time in what seemed to her like days, voice rough with disuse and dry, lacking moisture to sooth her throat. "Emrys needs help."
Wow. I feel as though my heart is racing knowing that this is my first story about to be posted. I decided to write this story because I gave up trying to find one that fit what I wanted to read now writing what I want for others to enjoy. I do hope you review since this is my first story. Thanks and enjoy.