Things Thought Lost
Prologue
Hey so this is one of my first fanfictions (on this account anyways, if you like PJO search DEMIgodofTigers, my old account and it has two finished stories) and it's based on the idea that maybe Lancelot came back to life again. Maybe someone found him laying in the bottom of a ravine or something and decided to help the guy –who was on the brink of death– out. You could be wondering how the hell he's come back again, well let's just say that Morgana Pendragon may have been involved. This is (obviously) a Merlin fic. Also, since this particular chapter is the prologue, I'll be being very vague. In addition, this chapter is a bit harsh (What can I say, Morgana's harsh, I have to match the writing to the characters.) the rest of the chapters shouldn't be as gruesome. Anyways I'm going to stop blabbering now and just let you read the story.
A lady in a black dress and whose raven hair shown in the faint light of the crescent moon above waded into the cool water of a lake. The woman whispered a completely inaudible phrase, and the water on the lake started to ripple.
A second woman arose from the lake. Her skin was pale and her hair was dark and soaked in the water of the lake. She also wore a dress, made of red fabric.
The second woman seemed wary around the first, and for good reason. The first woman whispered inaudible words. The second woman nodded to the first and began to speak a powerful song.
"In Emrys' hour of need, he shall ride upon his mighty steed, a hero of Camelot, will rise from the waters of Avalon, to come back from death, for he has not yet spent his last breath!"
The song of the woman caused the Earth to shake, the water to heave, and the trees to sway. Wind wrapped around the two figures as a third figure began to rise up from the deep waters of the lake. A male figure floated to the two women and levitated a few inches above the now calm surface of the water. No cuts or bruises shown on his body, his skin was healthy, as if he hadn't been dead. The only thing that portrayed that he might not be completely alive was that he was completely limp.
The woman with the raven black hair smiled a sly smile, and then her eyes glowed gold. The second lady flew backwards, hitting the surface of the water hard. The woman with the raven black hair then proceeded to grab the man by his hair and drag him away from the lake.
She walked proudly though the forest, her catch dragging behind her. Guinevere had become Queen of Camelot. The efforts, the steps, she had taken to make sure that didn't happen were all useless. Her useless, poor servant girl was now the Queen of Camelot. And Camelot was not under her rule anymore either. The woman of raven black hair blamed it all on the man that she currently dragged behind her. Had he killed Arthur or Guinevere when he'd had the chance none of this would be happening. She wouldn't have lost the Kingdom of Camelot, and she wouldn't be living where she is now. He only thing good that came out of her– no, his failure– was her new friend: the white dragon.
She screamed in anger, letting her eyes flash gold, and sent the man who had ruined everything crashing through trees.
She let her magic take hold of him, allowing the nature around her to rip the skin of his flesh to shreds. Suddenly, she stopped.
What's the point of causing him this much pain, if he cannot feel it at all? The woman thought.
She whispered an incantation, bringing the man fully back to life. He gasped in shock; the man's brown eyes flew open, and his body became no longer limp.
Had any of the previous pain from her bout of anger remained, he did not show it.
"Ic þe þurhhæle þin licsare mid þam sundorcræftas þære ealdaþ æ!" The woman enchanted.
All of the wounds and scratches on the man's body healed, though his blood still covered the ground.
The woman smiled at his questioning gaze. He knew who she was.
The man opened his mouth to say her name, but before he could say anything, her eyes glowed golden and once more she sent him thrashing though a thicket of thick brambles.
This was his punishment; torture at her hand.
"Fleoge!"
"Flíe fǽgð!"
"Fluge! Gár!" She yelled.
These incantations caused swords and spears that had been strewn across the ground from a battle long ago to start to levitate and attack her victim. The weapons slashed at him and pierced his skin. She made sure they didn't go to deep, though. She wanted him to feel pain for as long as possible. If he bleed out to soon, her fun would be over, for she could not bring him back to life for a third time. She relished in his screams of agony as her weapons attacked him.
This went on for hours, and now the woman with the raven black hair knew that her victim could take no more. She knew that if she added just the slightest more of a wound to him, or healed him once more so she could start it all over again, he would die. That is not what she wanted, she wanted him to feel her pain, her sorrow, for as long as possible.
She took his limp, almost lifeless body and cast a levitation spell.
The woman walked, with him floating behind her, for a while, until she reached a deep ravine.
The slit between the two rock faces went down about thirty feet and was roughly eight feet wide. No one would find him there, and if he did miraculously heal from his wounds, he wouldn't be able to escape either. He would die, surrounded by the slate rocks, he would die alone, and best of all, he would be forgotten.
She'd had her fun with the former Knight of Camelot, and now the woman with raven black hair manipulated her magic to move his limp body over the widest section of the crack, and dropped him.
Before she allowed his body to hit the Earth at the bottom of the ravine, she stopped his fall.
The man hovered inches from the ground and then slowly, the woman lowered his body to the ground.
The man now lay at the bottom of the ravine, completely out of sight, unless you leaned over the edge of the ravine and looked for him.
The woman smiled, satisfied that the former Knight of Camelot would die a painful, lonely death.
But what if he dies before he comes to? Her inner self questioned.
She knew that that was very likely, considering that most of the man's blood was on the ground and trees in her wake.
She riskily cast one last spell on him. The woman whispered a powerful incantation, which allowed for some of his blood to return to the man's body, and sealed half of his wounds.
The woman smiled sadistically, and then turned to leave the forest behind. She walked in the direction of the sunrise, leaving her victim moaning weakly at the bottom of the ravine.
Days passed before anyone even came in the way of the ravine, but had the one person who walked along the edge of the ravine not been who it was, the Knight of Camelot would have died at the hands of an evil sorceress. Luckily for him, the woman who walked there climbed down the steep slopes of the ravine and took to gravely injured man to her house hidden deep within the woods, for better or for worse.
I hope you liked it! I warned that it might be a bit dark. I'll update as soon as I can, but I can't guarantee anything since I will most likely be very busy with life.