Disclaimer: I do not own this, Jenny Nimmo does and i'm only borrowing it to put my own weird imagination into practice...

Chapter One

"Time to find out if you are a magician!" said Gwyn's grandmother… "Time to remember your ancestors: Math, Lord of Gwynedd, Gwydion and Gilfaethwy!"

These words were words that would live with Gwyn as long as he shall live. The words spoken by his grandmother on his ninth birthday changed his life, but maybe not in a good way.

For as long as he could remember Gwyn wanted to be a normal boy, a boy free of the responsibilities of a great magician. But no one can escape their destiny and that meant that Gwyn had to put up with the short stature and the way his bones would ache sometimes. It wasn't fair on him but for Gwyn Griffiths life had never been fair.

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It wasn't odd to see Gwyn Griffiths standing at the top of one of the hills on his family farm. For hours he would stay, staring unseeing into the numerous clouds and when the clouds would disappear he would count the stars that spread across the sky. This caused him alot of bother with his father but his mother would always shush him down claiming that a boy needed his peace.

But Gwyn was doing something that was worth the time he spent alone, his body had been growing more tired recently and he was storing his energy. He could feel something coming, like a gathering storm. Truthfully, it scared him. He had been through many things since becoming a magician and he had met them head on but this feeling...it felt like a cold deep in his heart. It was oddly like a premonition, one which foretold his death.

Gwyn did not want to approach his grandmother with this as his grandmother would just give him a knowing eye and send him on his way, all the while muttering long lost Welsh poems and spells. Gwyn wasn't afraid of his Nain, it was just that she had the habit of annoying him sometimes. Her odd ways were too odd for him to handle at the moment and so it was best that he avoid her.

Walking slowly Gwyn climbed up his mountain, not caring about the bitter cold that would nip at his arms and legs. He had been so cold lately that feeling more didn't seem to register. Arriving at the top he leaned against the fence and looked upwards. The clouds were drifting in their natural way but Gwyn saw beyond that, in his mind the clouds formed into jagged shapes, beasts with sharp teeth and wild looks. He could only continue to stare as the shapes moved towards him, biting and kicking. Gwyn fell to the ground in a heap, his magic drained. What he felt was...it was so strong.

He knew what it was now...It was another magician, one who didn't seem to like Gwyn Griffiths.

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Nia Lloyd was busy. She had just had a wonderful idea for a new wall hanging she was working on for her room. It was more for Bethan than for her, her sister needed bright colours and the different shapes to help her become smart. That is why Nia Llyod begged her father to bring her up the mountain to see Mrs Griffiths, Gwyn's Nain always was willing to dye her plain cloths wonderful colours, colours of the sun and of the Welsh poppy that grew all over the mountain. It helped that her brother, Alun, wanted to see Gwyn. They were best friends and would often hang around together when there was nothing else to do or talk about their boring boy stuff that all boys talk about. But there was a special place in her life for Gwyn, she had always seen the magic around him, it glistened like an illumnating aura, warm and special. She liked to think that he liked her in his own way, but she was only Alun's little annoying sister so she had no illusions about that.

Arriving at Mrs Griffiths' cottage she was surprised to see Mr Griffiths' range rover outside the door. Nia had heard from Alun that the relationship between Mr Griffiths and hs mother had been strained for a while, since Bethan had gone. It hadn't helped that Mrs Griffiths was slightly mad in the head, Nia found her exhilarating and always enjoyed her visits.

"Look Alun, Mr Griffiths is at Gwyn's Nain's cottage. Maybe Gwyn is there too." Nia told her brother.

"Dad, can we check here first?" Alun asked their father.

"Yeah, but be quick. I've got work to do." Mr Lloys was a butcher in the town, a horrible job if Nia did say so herself. She was a vegetarian and proud of it. Her family didn't agree with her but they had learnt to just let her do what she wanted to do. It was easier that way.

The kids scrambled out of the car and through the vine covered gate leading to the cottage. Before they got to the door it burst open and out stomped Mr Griffiths, a concerned look on his face. At seeing them he stopped abruptly and looked backwards as Mrs Griffiths came behind him.

"Have you seen Gwyn?" He barked at them.

"N-no Mr Griffiths, sir. Is he missing?" He scared Nia, after all he was nearly as tall as the door, and tended to loom over people.

"He has been missing since last night and no one has seen him." For once Mrs Griffiths looked old, there were wrinkles around her eyes and the sparkle usually evident in her eyes was missing.

Nia gasped in shock. The mountains could be harsh, but it was summer and there were many more hours of light. Had Gwyn fallen and become so hurt that he could not walk? Had he become trapped in one of the hidden caves. Nia felt the worry flow through her veins and she felt like crying. But she was reassured when she felt her father's hand upon her shoulder.

"Ivor, how can I help?" The soothing tones of her father's voice brought hope to Nia, as she knew he would always make things right.

"I've organised a search team, it is not like Gwyn to be gone for so long." Nia could see the pain in his eyes, see that he was stuck in the moment years before when his daughter Bethan had gone missing in the mountains and had never returned.

"Nia, Alun stay here with Mrs Griffiths. I'll come back and get you later."

"Awww dad..." Alun whined.

"No comments from you. Mrs Griffiths do you mind if they stay here?"

"Of course not, we'll be fine. Just find Gwyn." Mrs Griffiths nodded and sheparded the children into her cottage and gave a significant look to the men, she was worried and that was bad.

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Gwyn could hardly open his eyes, he was so drained and the energy that it took to move had disappeared. He could feel the grass and the sun on him but there was no urgency to do anything. Gwyn had felt hunger but that too had gone, he felt nothing accept emptiness and dread.

He didn't know how long he had lay there but the day had turned to night and then again to day. Still floating he finally heard the disjointed sounds of feet and yelling, then rough hands turning him over talking to him. Gwyn just sank back into the darkness, to the power that seemed to be dragging him in, and slept.

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