My first Merlin story, so please no flames! I just couldn't stop thinking about this story until I finally got it going! Hope you like it!
By the way, this is just the prequel.
Enjoy!
The wind in whistled its merry little tune over the forest that early fall day, giving the trees the encouragement to stretch their branches ever closer to the sun. The chirping of the birds merged with this song of the wind, turning the soft voice of the air into a symphony of sound. Sunlight stole away in the crevices between leaves and branches, leaving the ground as spotted as a dog.
Leaves that had turned lovely shades of gold and red flew from their perch upon the branches and moved in the wind as if taken by the spirit of the music. The breeze seemed light and cool, giving the day a feel of late summer. Yet only one place escaped untouched from the beauty and joy of the season of autumn, the Lake of Avalon.
Over the small overhang above the lakebed, was long grass soaked with the glistening morning dew. It sparkled and wavered like a liquid jewel. The smaller droplets gathered in the center, which steadily grew heavier and heavier. The blade of grass drooped lower, closer to that private pool of sorrow. Eventually, the dew slithered down and fell into the lake with a small sounding plop, joining its brethren below.
Water rippled in tiny waves because of the sudden disturbance. That moving water started to ripple even more do to the air dancing across the glassy surface. The leaves lost their sway and fell into the lake's grasp, covering the surface with the fallen colors of the oaks surrounding it.
The equinox never has, and never will, touch this cursed and blessed graveyard. Neither could the barren cold of winter or the warmth and beauty of summer and spring respectively. The atmosphere above the Lake of Avalon was suspended in time, back when life of myth and wonder ruled and nothing could explain the magic erupting from the very heart of this great land. Though modern society convinced everything with science. But to know the past is to know the future in this case.
One of the few people who lived and practiced this ancient art of magic was now in tune with the very life force of the Lake. All she could do now was to watch and observe through her water, to see what has become during the modern age. Or, she thought to herself, to see what has become of my beloved Merlin.
Freya's raven hair trailed behind her in waves, as dark chestnut eyes scanned through the only way she could see the modern age of man; puddles and raindrops. Faces upon face stared back, but to her disappointment, none belonged to the old sorcerer.
None can see her, yet she recognized many hundreds of faces. Then she saw a flicker of white whiskers out of the corner of her eye. Hope filling her, Freya turned to see the aged face of Merlin.
His ancient eyes were still the bright blue that she remembered them being. Except the happy, grinning face was long gone, replaced by a great sadness in his eyes. Since his friend, King Arthur had passed into the realm of the Spirits and died in his arms, Merlin had that sadness hunting his steps for centuries. Emrys had never forgiven himself for magic causing his friends' deaths.
Having gnarred hands, Merlin clutched an old oaken walking stick to help him get along. He was heading up a long misused paved road to the middle of the former sight of the kingdom of Camelot.
Unfortunately, with the decline of the Pendragon family, the castle had soon followed. The final damage by human hands was done in the Crusades, with the fighting by cannon fire had finally made the old castle crumble. It had withered and died away like a plant in the hot sun.
All that remained of the castle of Camelot was a few lonely stones to mark the places where brave knights had fallen. To everyone else, it was known as Stonehenge.
Merlin walked, rather hobbled, to pay tribute to the great stones as today was a terrible day in his memories. It was the anniversary of the Battle of Camlann, the terrible battle that took away much of his friends and family.
Merlin kneeled to the stones, a single tear escaped from his eyes and dropped to the ground, which drank it up quickly. A long thought dead memory resurfaced, making a small smile appear on the old man's face.
"You always thought me a girl for expressing my feelings, you old clotpole." he chuckled softly, seemingly swimming in lost ages. He regained his wits when a bird cawed in the distance. Merlin bowed once more and left for the forest.
There was one last thing he wanted to accomplish for his long gone family.
Merlin knew exactly where the Lake of Avalon was hidden. He knew it so well he could walk there blindfolded. To all others, it would be a miracle of great proportions to be able to find it and make it back to civilization unscathed and unharmed.
Merlin knelt to the ground, right by an ancient canoe that had lived long last her prime. But to the old man, it looked too much like the boat in which he sent many on their way to the realm of the dead.
He muttered some phrases in the language of magic, and a large trunk appeared out of oblivion. Merlin couldn't help but smile on how well his magic had gotten over the centuries.
He opened the chest and many gifts appeared before him. He started to take them out one at a time.
"A lily, for Gwen…"
Her favorite flower, as Arthur once told his manservant to get her a bouquet of them for her birthday. Merlin put the lily in the small canoe.
Gwen too had passed several years after Arthur, after finally leading Camelot out of the darkness Morgana wrought.
"The flag of Camelot, for Sir Lancelot."
Lifting the small banner over his head, Merlin laid the flag onto the other end of the canoe, dragon side up. He remembered when the honorable knight first made his way into Camelot. His eyes were full of hope…
Merlin shook his head. The way he had survived so long was not because of his duty, which he cherished, but by not delving too deeply in old memories. As all of them lead up to the Terrible Battle. All they brought him was more pain.
"A rose, for…" his throat constricted, making the old wizard choke on unwanted tears.
"For my beloved Freya."
Delicately, Merlin placed the flower over the dragon's heart.
"A forge hammer, for Sir Elyan."
Merlin placed it underneath the lily.
"A pint of old ale," Merlin laughed quietly, "For Sir Gwaine."
"And finally, a sword of ancient battles fought long ago, for my ki…" he paused for a moment, thought better of it, and then said,
"For my greatest friend, The Once and Future King, Arthur Pendragon."
He placed the sword next to Gwen's lily. It took all of Merlin's strength to not fall down and weep. He shouted the magic words through the sadness hanging over him, his old magic starting and gold eyes flickering. The boat cast off the shore and sailed into the center, where Merlin set the little boat on fire.
The flames flickered and sparked, eating at the gifts that Merlin had given them in the spirit world.
"Hail, Queen Guinevere!" Merlin shouted, mourning and proud at the same time.
"Long live Sir Lancelot!"
"Long live Sir Elyan!"
"Long live Sir Gwaine!"
"Long live Lady Freya!"
Merlin broke down sobbing as the walls to his emotions slowing crumbled like Camelot's walls. His pain and torment took its hold, with tears streaking down his face and falling into the Lake of Avalon. All had died by his side. And Merlin could never forgive himself. But that didn't stop him from screaming to the heavens,
"HAIL KING ARTHUR! LONG LIVE THE KING!"
I hope this was a good first chapter! I won't be here for a few weeks, so leave lots of reviews! :)
Review Question: Was this good for a start?
Dragon Out!
