*Prologue*
Hello lovely readers! Thanks for giving my story a chance, and I hope you like it. :)
Before anyone even asks, yes, I was inspired by the movie Inception when I came up with the idea for this story. This is NOT, however, a crossover. So for those of you who have seen it, there will be Inception like themes in it.
Disclaimer-I do not own BBC's Merlin or any of the characters, or any themes borrowed from Inception.
It was early morning, and the sun was just beginning to feebly stretch its rays as it began its long, daily descent into the sky. All was still as the first, ambitious rays cleared the tops of the dense forest and shone their still pale light onto the proud white walls of the citadel on the hill. The drowsy forest creatures brought themselves from their assorted homes to great the new day and watch as the magnificent citadel was brought into full glory by the morning light, its grand towers and turrets housing the awakening townspeople. As the sun fully rose above the trees and climbed into its throne of clouds, the sound of a troop of horses thundering through the forest broke the calm of the peaceful morning.
The thundering of the horse's hooves drew the inhabitants of the village out of their homes, curious. They watched as the red-cloaked horsemen charged through the streets, heading purposefully toward the citadel. Not a one of them failed to notice the peculiar grouping of the troops; they rode in a circle with one of their fellows in the center, upon whose back the form of another person could be seen. With curious, and undoubtedly weary glances, the townsfolk started off in their wake.
The troop charged through the gates of the citadel, entering into the white stone town square. The clacking of their horses hooves echoed through the quiet morning air as they came to a halt, the leader of the troop drawing from his belt a horn which he promptly brought to his lips and trumpeted. At once, all the peasants from the town and citadel came rushing from outside, gathering around and watching in anticipation as more knights streamed out of the castle. They rushed forward and joined their fellows, who were dismounting from their steeds and handing them off to the servants who were also gathering. The only one who remained on horseback was the knight with the other figure on his back. Drawing their weapons, the others quickly snatched the figure off the horse, throwing it to the ground where it collapsed and lay quite still.
At that moment, a door on one of the upper levels of the castle was flung open. All eyes were upturned as none other than Uther Pendragon, king of Camelot, stormed on to the balcony, his steely gray eyes cast down upon the scene below him. Silence fell as two of the knights grabbed the cloaked figure and hauled it upwards, revealing the badly bruised face of an old man. As his face was revealed, those around him shrank back with hisses of shock; the man was Fendrel, a sorcerer who was notorious throughout the lands. Uther leaned over the ledge and sneered down at the old man, who in his beaten state looked as frail as to be blown over by the winds. Fendrel met the king's gaze with a small, private smile stretching his bruised and wrinkled face.
"Well, well, well." muttered Uther, his voice only just carrying down to those below him. He turned his attention to the knights surrounding the sorcerer, a sadistic smile twisting his features. "You have done well, men. You have lived up to the title of Knights of Camelot, and have honored your kingdom."
At the same moment he was addressing the knights, another figure joined him at the window. This second figure shared Uther's height and many of his facial features; it was said that he was a reflection of Uther's past, a past thirty years now gone. He also shared Uther's namesake, for he was Arthur Pendragon, crowned prince of Camelot.
However much he may look like his father in his early years, Arthur looked very little like Uther at that particular moment. Whereas Uther's features were twisted with a cold glee as he sneered down at the scene before him, Arthur's were pulled together in a barely assembled mask of indifference. His mouth was drawn taught, pale white as was the rest of his face. This provided stark contrast with the watery blue of his eyes, which were despite his best efforts shining with distaste. But he was not looking down at the captive sorcerer. He was looking instead at his father, at the vicious enjoyment so clearly evident on his face.
"People of Camelot," Uther was saying, his voice echoing across the silenced crowd. "We have before us, due to the marvelous and hasty work of our knights, the well known sorcerer, Fendrel. As you all know, Fendrel has been working to cast his spells on the commoners in outlying villages of Camelot and other kingdoms alike. Reports had reached us that he was working to take control of people's minds.. by entering their dreams."
Gasps of shock rippled through the crowd; they had heard of how the man had gone about countless small villages, gathering an army of followers and leading those who would not follow in an endless sleep. His goal, however, had been kept from them.
From where he stood amongst the knights, Fendrel let out a scathing laugh. Rasping and thunderous, it was a very unsettling laugh-the laugh of one who had seen and committed a great deal of evil in the world. The townsfolk closest to him shrank back, jostling those behind them to put distance between themselves and the sorcerer.
When his laughter died down enough for him to speak, he turned his gleaming gaze back up to the king. "I do not work to take control of people's minds.. only awaken the thoughts that are already there. And it would seem, Uther Pendragon, that you are on many people's minds these days."
Uther's face turned a bright red, and for a moment it seemed as if he was going to spring from the balcony and finish Fendrel off on his own. But the moment passed, and breathing heavily, he merely leaned forward against the railing.
"Would you like to know what I am thinking, sorcerer?" he hissed. "I am thinking it is high time your shenanigans were put to an end. Prepare a stake," he barked down to the knights, who jumped slightly at the sudden loud noise. "The sorcerer burns sundown."
With a sweep of his cape, Uther turned on his heel and made for the castle. But the voice of Fendrel, sounding much stronger than it had previously, stopped him in his tracks.
"Burn me if you wish, Uther Pendragon, but you will not stop me. You cannot stop the people from dreaming. And wherever there are dreamers, there we will be as well. I have seen the people's minds, and also their hearts. I know what they want, and we will give it to them. The dream will become the reality. And you are powerless to stop us."
Fendrel became very still. After a moment, the knights who held his arms screeched in pain and dropped his arms, flying back from him. Their hands bore angry welts and were smoking and hissing from where he had burned them. Drawing himself to his fullest height, Fendrel swept around and faced the commoners, who stood dumbstruck and watching in terror. When he spoke, his voice was amplified as if there were a hundred of him speaking at once.
"People of Camelot, those who live on the very threshold of Uther Pendragon's tyranny, listen to the words of Fendrel, of the Keepers of Magic! You have lived in an age ruled by fear and ignorance, dominated and lead by a man who does not tolerate that which he cannot understand! I have seen your brothers and sisters hearts and minds, and I know that Uther's golden age is bursting at the seams, crumbling apart as we speak! Do not tolerate this madness any longer. Choose to stand up and fight for freedom and equality, so that all can live in peace and harmony. Make your dreams a reality, least you be plagued by nightmares."
Guards made to recapture Fendrel, who stomped his foot hard on the ground. A shock wave rippled through the ground from where he stomped, hitting the men and knocking them unconscious. Cries of fear erupted from the remaining knights and a few townsfolk, but for his part, Fendrel carried on his speech quite unperturbed.
"This has only just begun, people of Camelot. As my people's reality is not safe, neither are your dreams. We have come close to extinction, and we will no longer tolerate it. As your king hunts us, so we will hunt him."
There was a moment of absolute silence as the weight of his words settled among the crowd. Then, just as suddenly as the first time, Fendrel stomped his foot again; his eyes glowed gold as a clap of thunder rang out, surely heard by all the lands. Another shockwave, this one gold like his eyes and thrice the size of the first one he had sent out, issued through the ground. The stone ground of the town square rippled like the water of the ocean waves as the shock waves rang through it. People were thrown down, screaming, as it displaced the ground underneath their very feet. The wave passed through the citadel, through the town, through Camelot itself, reaching to the very ends of the Earth.
Fendrel closed his eyes, listening as his call rippled across the Earth. It reached the very recesses of reality, echoing with booming insistency and sending golden light shooting into the darkness. The light shone brighter with every passing moment, swirling into five distinctly human shapes. Though they took no distinct form or features, Fendrel knew who they were. He watched as his fellow Ancients rose and, using the light which created them, the light that he had sent, brought into being a sixth figure. As it took form, the figure developed distinct features, which he recognized to be those of a girl. His successor, a fellow dreamer.
Fendrel's eyes snapped open and he awoke from the vision, and he was back in the citadel of Camelot. The tiniest of all smiles played at his lips as in that moment he lost all the strength that had previously flowed through him, collapsing back into the frail old man that he was. He fell roughly to the ground, and in a flash the knights were surrounding him, hauling him to his feet and dragging him away. He put up no struggle, for lack of strength and because his successor was on her way. No matter what the tyrant Uther did to him, he would not win. He could not win. Fendrel knew that his death was for the better, but a sacrifice for the greater good. As was the case with him and the Ancient who he had followed, so his successor would have greater powers than he. A surge of triumph ran through him as he was thrown into a damp jail cell, where he would spend the last day of his life. This truly only was the beginning.
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Hey everyone! Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the prologue. Reviews are appreciated! :)
