My first venture into this fandom. Hope you like it.

Disclaimer : I do not have ownership of the characters in this story.

Prologue

Pained groans filled the chambers of the Queen of Camelot. The maids exchanged worried glances. By the fire, the High Priestess watched with wary eyes as the result of her magic came to pass. The king, wincing as his beloved crushed his hand, noticed none of this. He was only aware of his wife's face contorting in pain, as with a final push, the new Prince was introduced to the world, and immediately made his displeasure known.

The joyful smiles around the room were tinged with relief, all except the Priestess, who still watched silently, with hope rising in her eye, as the new-born was handed to his mother.

Then the Queen suddenly screamed in agonizing pain, and the baby was pushed into his father's hands as the King was pushed out of the room. Unable to do anything for his beloved, he paced back and forth in the corridor, desperately trying to console his crying son.

Then suddenly the screams in the room stopped. The child, sensing the sudden change in the atmosphere, fell silent.

The silence was pierced by wailing. The King, unable to bear it, pushed into the room and looked in shocked incomprehension at the sight. His son was crying again, and he pushed him into a maid's hand as he went to the bed which held his Queen. The sorceress sitting there was desperately trying to do something, to fix the situation, to bring her friend back. When she saw the King her eyes filled with sudden tears and she shook her head, before drawing back and pressing her hand to her mouth in sorrow.

The King stared at her, and then rushed to his Queen. She lay there, calm and peaceful, as if she was sleeping. Only the bloody sheets and wailing women gave the truth. He stared at her and gave a choked sob, then spoke her name softly, desperately. The women drew back to let him mourn.

He stayed there, by her side for a while, before turning in a fit of rage to the Priestess, who still had tears in her normally mischievous blue eyes. "You! You were supposed to help her! To make sure she didn't die."

The priestess looked devastated. "I'm so sorry Uther. I thought she wouldn't be the sacrifice. I would never have done this, fulfilled your wish if I thought she would have been in danger! I swear!"

Uther glared at her with eyes red from holding back tears. "You did this. It is your fault Igraine is dead. You and your magic."

Nimueh drew herself up at this, glaring at Uther. "I warned you about the consequences. To create or save a life, a life must be lost. You had no objection before she died, why do you complain now?"

Uther didn't seem to her her. "Magic caused this. It stole my beloved from me. It is pure evil if it demands such a cruel price. You magic users! Do you not care about the value of human lives?"

Nimueh drew back, recognising the slightly manic look in her old friend's eyes. "Uther, don't do anything foolish, I beg you…"

He cut her off with a screech of steel as he drew his sword, pointing it at her throat. "As King, it is my duty to remove every threat to my Kingdom. As I once called you a friend, I give you an hour. Flee while you can witch. For I decree now, any magic user found in my Kingdom from this day forth shall be executed. Magic stole my wife; I will not allow it to have an opportunity to take my son."

Nimueh recoiled in shock and sudden fear. "My Lord… You cannot do this! Please, do mot blame magic for your mistake; reconsider, I beg of you…"

She was cut off this time by a slap and the tip of the sword against her throat. Uther's eyes were granite. "Leave. Now. Before I change my mind."

She fled then, barely containing her tears. She fled to her sanctuary, the Isle of the Blessed, where she cried and mourned the friendships she had lost in one night. Then she contained her sorrow, and went back to Camelot, hoping Uther hadn't done something foolish yet.

She was too late, however. The many magic users, never expecting an attack from the King they swore allegiance to, were quickly rounded off and send to the pyres, some run through where they stood. The Dragonlords were forced to call the dragons and then kill them. They were then killed themselves. There was chaos and terrors everywhere, as little children who showed aptitude for magic were quickly sent by their parents to safety, or were killed. Wails for lovers and spouse alike were heard. The stench of burning flesh permeated the air.

She watched the scene with a feeling of shocked fear, and an undying sadness. Falling to her knees, she wept for her friends, alive and dead, her kin, forced to live a life of fear and caution; a half-life.

Over the next months, all the powerful sorcerers, the remaining Dragonlords, the Priestesses, all were killed, murdered for the very thing that previously had given them such prestige. She watched in sorrow as her dear friends, fellow Priestesses of the Triple Goddess, were destroyed, their power and glory cast to the wind. She watched with pity as weaker magic-users were dragged, screaming, begging, to their death-pyre. She watched with shocked revulsion as little children were executed, their only crime being that they were born to a magic-user. She watched with anger as the once-proud Dragons and their kin, the Dragonlords, were hunted and killed, along with their family, their lovers. She watched with disgust at Uther as innocents were dragged and put to death on mere speculation and slander. She watched, dying a little inside each time, because she could not do anything without forfeiting her own life, and she felt like a coward every time someone died.

Six months after the Prince's birth, she retreats to her beloved Isle, swearing vengeance.

Uther Pendragon's reign of terror had begun. Camelot's decline had begun. She would end it. One day. The King would learn that Magic could never be completely removed from the world.

Reviews are appreciated, whether complimentary or not. So please tell me what you think!