Prologue:

"And where the offence is, let the great axe fall." - William Shakespeare, "Hamlet"

Silence. Seemingly ever present and all encompassing, the forests of Camelot were filled with its presence. To a mortal man, the silence would seem frightening and over-bearing, and yet, it didn't really exist at all. Whether it was the falling morning dew or the rustling of the autumn leaves in a cool wind, any semblance of silence was obliterated before it had a chance to begin.

On that night, it was the footsteps of a young man that ceased the silence in the forest. Turning his gaze towards the sky, the man raised his hands in the air, in their grasp, a weather-worn staff engraved with words of powerful magic.

"Úre burgsele cwide dryer."

Upon the utterance of those words, a dark glow surrounded the stranger, and his crimson eyes, burning with a fiery vengeance, trained on their destination: Camelot. His intention: chaos.

The only sound the rustling of a cloak, the stranger vanished into thin air, leaving one last word in his wake to linger in wind, forestalling the silence: "Merlin."

A/N: Currently, my secret addiction is "Merlin," and while I may not know the language that all those nifty spells are conjured in, I kind of took a guess at Old English. And so, in my searching, I found ./, which I will be using for all of my spell translations. A word of caution: I am probably 99% wrong in my translations, but hey, its the thought that counts, no? Anyways, this current little translation is more of a curse than a spell, and I was aiming for the translation to be "Your house will fall." Menacing? I hope so. Read and review 3