The narrow path cutting through the tangled brambles and ancient trees of the forest trembled as the convey of soldiers trotted down it, their steeds shying away from beckoning shadows extending out from either side of the crudely formed road. It was nearing dusk, the last rays of sunlight piecing the thick canopy of leaves above, rippling over the forest floor in small golden pools and patterns of light. The soldiers moved quietly, the dying light casting a glowing sheen on their amour, and reflecting from the golden emblem of a dragon pictured on each of their chests, marking them as knights of Camelot. At the front of the columns of soldiers rode two young men, each as profoundly different from other as possible. One wore his armor and uniform with ease, the hard will in his deep blue eyes and the authority emitting from his presence marking him as Arthur, heir to the throne of Camelot, and leader of the knights that were riding behind him. The other was attired in the worn clothes of a peasant, and weaponless, yet there was a slight spark of otherworldliness that glimmered in his face, the sense that he was something quite different from the battle-fit men surrounding him. He was Merlin.
Arthur peered into the woods, searching the gathering darkness. He spoke, his voice breaking the undisturbed silence of the forest,
"There's been no sign of the creature for hours Merlin. For all we know its disappeared, back from wherever it came." Merlin gazed at Arthur, studying his face, noting that Arthur's teeth gritted in frustration as he spoke, that his eyes were crackling with displeasure. Arthur had been in this state of aggravation ever since he, his knights, and Merlin had set out in pursuit of the White Stag a day ago. Arthur thought the quest to find the Stag was purposeless journey, he believed that the White Stag was either a total myth or destined to never be found. Merlin glanced back at the knights, who rode in silence, their usual boisterous banter and conversation stilled by the frightful legends that originated in these woods, tales of vicious beasts and untamed magic that flowed to Camelot from among these time-worn trees. What the knights could only barely sense, Merlin felt coursing through him: the power of this forest, a raw energy of nature untouched by human hands. These woods held many secrets, first among them the mythical White Stag. Turning back to Arthur, Merlin murmured,
"I know you don't like it Arthur, but Uther ordered us to find the Stag. Until we have evidence that it does not existent, we can't turn back."
Arthur fixed Merlin with a withering glare, the kind only a royal could give without appearing outrageously condescending,
"The knights were created to protect Camelot, not to go chasing after mythical animals for my father!"
"Its not a myth Arthur!" Merlin insistently responded, "It was seen just two days ago on the edge of this very forest, only a few miles from Camelot."
Seeing that he would gain no ground on this line of argument, Arthur switched subjects,
"And I still can't believe you were sent to accompany us. In a fight you'll only be in my and the knights, way." Merlin bit his lip to keep back an enraged reply. He had long learned it was futile attempting to argue with Arthur. Instead he said, slowly as if explaining to a child,
"The White Stag is a being of magic. To subdue it, you'll need someone who knows magic, not just how to skewer a man on a sword." Arthur growled something unintelligible, and turned his radiant blue eyes, no less displeased then they were before, back to the forest. Merlin sighed, and silently wished that something, anything would happen to make this trip a little more…. lively. Then he too cast his eyes towards the shrouded trees, their leaves waving like black phantoms in the darkness, and allowed his focus to drift towards the magic pulsating through these woods until he had lost himself in endless dreams of power that grew, and took form in the night.
As I awoke I stretched my arms out above me, hands reaching towards the layers of emerald leaves branching over my head. In the few hours I had slept bright daylight had turned to murky twilight, reducing the forest to a blur of shadows and faint outlines of trees. I was unworried about navigating in darkness though, I have always been able to summon light when needed, and in a place such as this, so connected to the endless current of energy, of raw power coursing through the kingdom of Camelot, accessing magic would be simple. This forest was rooted in the power of the ages, its origins aligned with those of Camelot itself, and thus making it among those few places where my closest friend and I ever feel that we truly belong. I glanced over at her now, still sprawled out on the forest floor in slumber.
"Juliana…." I called softly, as I slowly rose to my feet, my body sore after two weeks traveling through this forest. Her eyelids snapped open, revealing bright green eyes, and she leaned up, gathering the coarse woolen blanket she had been sleeping with. I watched jealously as she ruffled her cropped reddish brown hair, easily smoothing it back into place. My own long blond locks had to be tightly secured in two braids running down my back, else they would be helplessly tangled after a day of sleeping on the ground. Rising, she asked, surprisingly alert after having slept for several hours,
"Ready to get going again then, Alianor?" I nodded,
"We should be able to walk all night since we're rested." For some peculiar reason, but Juliana and I found it easier to travel during nighttime hours, when most forest creatures were abed, and no other humans ventured out into the forest. We had no cause to fear the magical beasts that prevented others from journeying into these woods. We both prepared to leave the clearing that had served as our resting place, swiftly packing up the few belongings we possessed in the world, just a meager supply of food and basic supplies. Our most prized items we carried constantly with us: Juliana's set of deadly sharp daggers, my sword, an ancient book of magic, and a few objects whose meaning only we knew. As we hefted our packs of belongings onto our backs Juliana turned to me and, raising one eyebrow, said patiently,
"Alianor…is there any good reason why you aren't wearing your glamour right now?" I scowled, and averted my gaze from hers,
"I shouldn't have to conceal who I am. Being a woman shouldn't put me in danger." Juliana's face became taut with slight irritation at my continued stubbornness. We had been having this argument for years; it arose whenever I had to assume a glamour that altered my appearance into that of a man's. The things Juliana and I did, the places we went… we had long since learned they weren't activities that were encouraged for women to do. In fact in most places, they were forbidden. Men's tyranny extended to all corners of this land, and even in the dark of the forest, I still couldn't travel as a woman, unescorted and unapproved by male eyes. Juliana replied,
"It shouldn't put you in danger, but the fact is it does. And while I know we can defend ourselves perfectly well, I don't particularly want to be running into trouble wherever we go. Just put the glamour Alianor, for my sake if for nothing else."
Still fuming, I quickly muttered an incantation and waved a hand over my face. As soon as I finished the enchantment I could feel the glamour settle on my body, overlaying me with an image of my male self: contorting my skin into male features, sweeping the hair back from my shoulders, creating a picture to the outside world of a well-built young man who still carried my pair of glowing blue eyes. I detested having the glamour of a man, the slight consciousness of flesh where it was not naturally, the phantom feelings of a body that was not my own. Underneath the glamour I was still my true self, was still in my body, but in all other eyes, except for Juliana's, who could always see me as I naturally am, I was someone else entirely. I shook out my limbs and muttered angrily,
"You and your bloody short hair Juliana." Juliana struggled to conceal a smirk at this remark. Her cropped hair was not only low maintenance and complimented her rounded feature it also served to make a glamour mostly unneeded. She still appeared like a woman, but was greatly less obvious then my long hair and more pronounced chest. And we had discovered that most men wouldn't question if Juliana wasn't a man for fear of insulting her and incurring the wrath of her daggers.
"If you weren't so vain Alianor, you would cut that hair of yours, wear loose clothing, and then neither of us would need a glamour." Juliana commented. I glared at her for a moment, irritated at her habit of pointing to the truth of my more absurd convictions, and then both of us set off into the forest. The only guide we needed was the raw magic radiating out from the object of our search, the reason we had delved so deeply into these woods and disturbed its secrets: the White Stag.