Chapter 1: The black smoke rose from the ground like a veil of death and seemed to surround the woman with its fate. But her hand was raised slightly, as if she was taunting the smoke mercilessly, readying herself to defy death itself. Her blue eyes gleamed gold and her hands lay entwined in front of her dress like a vine. The black smoke moved away from her and died off, slightly. The woman smiled and she pushed a stray strand of her white-blonde hair away from her eyes.
"There are ways to demolish the dangers around us, my dear," she said, her eyes looking pointedly at the opening in a door, where two violet eyes peered through. The woman's face became solemn, "But sometimes such dangers get the better of us." The woman blew out one of the torches that were attached to the stone, brick wall. The door opened fully, and a beautiful young woman stepped in. Her dark mantle of curls billowed around her like an everlasting wind. Her eyes blinked several times before she let out a small sigh,
"You will never receive your revenge." The woman glared at the younger one, her voice cold and daunting as she answered,
"Oh…and what makes you see such, Ithaca?" she asked. "Do you care for your sister?" Ithaca looked up at her Aunt, a woman who believed that vengeance would satisfy depression.
"Aunt Mathilde, Morgause was dearer to me than life, itself. I swear to that. I…there's no words to express how much I seek revenge. But I will never be able to get it." Mathilde lifted her hand and pointed a dramatic finger at her niece.
"You are not just the daughter of the late Arian, but you were his assassin for many years. And now you are a broken girl. Which is fair, I suppose. You were left to my care for four years now and Morgause never sought to include you in her plans…"
"Morgause did so to protect me," Ithaca interrupted. "I will not hear more of it."
"Then why are so against revenge, girl. Look inside of yourself. Do you wish to see your poor sister to die in vain? That everything she wished dissolved into nothingness? You are the only hope. Think, Ithaca." Ithaca's eyes flashed violently as her aunt but she didn't speak. Instead she absentmindedly fumbled with the ruffles on her silver dress. She knew her aunt could be worn down if she used the power of such a tool against her. To Ithaca, even the power of magic bowed its head at silence. Mathilde knew well what her niece meant to do, but this was a battle she would not let her win. "Listen to me," she tried again. "Your own half sister is somewhere out there and you wish to ignore her call of help. That, my dear, is cruelty beyond belief!" The silence remained and it created an imaginary icy barrier around Ithaca and the rest of the world. "You cannot be victorious unless you avenge her death. Go to Camelot and seek what must be found. Kill them all, my dear. Torture them until you discover the culprit." Ithaca's left eyebrow rose slightly as she lifted her face to look her aunt in the eye.
"Ic thør éonthi," she whispered, her violet eyes turning that miraculous gold. An actual iced wall appeared between them and Ithaca hoped that she had proved her point. She could almost see the burning fumes burst from Mathilde's head, but she did not make any sort of movement to say that she was surrendering.
"Ic søn sαe-hithe éonthi!"Mathilde screamed and the ice wall disintegrated into ash in front of Ithaca. "Enough child! This is not how I brought you up. You are becoming far too wild and you're respect for your great lineage dwindles. Your sister was one of the greatest sorceresses who will walk the face of our world. And so was your mother. It is about time you walk in their footsteps." Ithaca stared at the ash on the floor and kicked it with force away from her.
"Is that what you wish, Aunt? That I find this Camelot and destroy everything it has to stand for? Is that truly what you want? Would you like me to find Morgana Pendragon?" Ithaca stood up, her dress' skirt twirled around her like an unpredictable ocean.
"I want to see you become the sorceress you truly are. I think that finding Morgana will seek the revenge you need. I promise you that," Mathilde said, lifting a hand to stroke Ithaca's cheek. Ithaca instinctively stepped back.
"So be it," Ithaca sighed. She could not believe her Aunt had won the fight. But Mathilde had torn her apart with the mention of her mother. Ithaca could not bear to be a disappointment to the woman she had heard so much about. And perhaps by finding Morgana, she could connect on a level she could only have with Morgause. They did, after all, share the same mother. "However Aunt, I cannot guarantee that I shall come riding back with the prize you wish. I will find Morgana but I cannot say that I will attack Camelot."
"My child, when you meet Morgana I hope you wish otherwise."
Elsewhere…
"Merlin!" a thunderous voice boomed as a young man with black hair and ear much too large for him bustled through the door, a tray balanced on one hand. "You're late," the voice answered. It belonged to an angry, blue-eyed and blonde haired young man who looked up from his position at his desk. There were papers sprawled all around him including intricately made handwritten maps.
"And you're awake," Merlin answered in mock surprise, setting the breakfast tray in front of him. "And dressed. Don't tell me you're under some kind of love spell again." The prince glared at him and Merlin hid a smile.
"No one likes a big mouth, Merlin. Tomorrow is a big hunt and I need to make preparations. I'm not completely sure if the all the knights are ready; after all I am taking some of the younger ones. So, yes I am dressed and ready and I really don't see how that's an excuse for your lateness."
"Erm…sire, why didn't you tell me about the hunt?" Merlin said slowly, disregarding Arthur's emphasis on him being late.
"Must have slipped my mind, seeing that your annoying presence often makes me think how bad my luck is that I ended up with the most useless and terrible servant Camelot has ever seen."
"But, Arthur this is important. I'll need to prepare everything and it'll take me a long time. If you had given me…"
"Merlin, what are you talking about? It's not like you're actually doing anything on this hunt. You're just going to ride on a horse and carry my pack and try not to complain that your bum is hurting. Oh…or are you planning to fight, Merlin? Oh, excuse me, I meant play hide-and-seek. Do you have to prepare for your game of hide-and-seek?"
"Dollop-head," Merlin muttered.
"Explain dollop-head to me. I still don't understand what you mean."
"It means people who are slow at understanding," Merlin grinned, smirking. Arthur's eyes flashed irritably, knowing that he was close to losing the argument.
"Shut up, Merlin. Now, you need to polish my armor, shine my boots, muck out the stall, groom my horse, sharpen my sword, clean my clothes, oh…and make sure to bring me meals at the appropriate times." Merlin stared dumfounded,
"See, and I have to get the pack ready too as well as my horse. If you had told me ahead of time…"
"Merlin if you're not completely stupid, I would expect that you get to your duties immediately. After all, it was you who pointed out how much preparing you had to do," it was Arthur's turn to smirk and Merlin rolled his eyes.
"Dollop-head," he said, before walking out the door. As he moved towards Gaius, the court physician's room, he heard an unfamiliar voice in his head. It wasn't Kilgharrah's, but something much more strange. A tone he could not have recognized before.
Emrys…Emrys… she who seeks the death of the future king of Camelot is approaching. She who seeks the fall of Camelot and will be the death of it if you do not stop her, Emrys. You are the only one who can. But she is no easy one to defeat for she has something with her that no other sorcerer you encounter, however powerful, will have. You have to be the one to see her death…Emrys, be careful…For she is unlike any you will face. She will inflict havoc without even knowing, but you must follow the inner light. The fate of all will rest upon you, Emrys.
And the voice died down slowly to a soft hum and then into nothing. Merlin shuddered, his blue eyes gleaming not in fear, but a curiosity. He had gotten used to being told that he had such a great destiny- a destiny which forced him to weigh upon fates of many. He had been warned many times…but this time he could not see who was warning him. And he knew he would have to find the source behind the voice, but that was a problem on his own. But by the anxious rise and fall of the tone of the voice, Merlin figured he had little time to think about how he was going to discover the voice's owner- he just had to do so.