Chapter 2-The Begining
"Stories of imagination tend to upset those without one."
My mind reeled from this information. He was talking about my mother, this strange old man was talking about my mother. About my mother as his love! Does he know that I am her daughter? Does he know my father? I had never known who my father was, my mother had told me that he never knew about me for his own protection. I understood why, my mother was a sworn enemy of Camelot, only the druids had known of my birth, they had given me my name. Rebecca. Rebecca is the name of the goddess of magic, the leader of the healing power, sworn to help anyone in need, be them magical or otherwise. This name is the symbol of great power that has been combined, for the goddess who first bore this name was the daughter of the two greatest gods and goddess in the land. There is a myth surrounding this family of gods.
The time will come when the three gods will be reborn. The first, God Emrys who for legend holds a great prophecy. The second, Goddess Le Fey who for legend holds a cruel life of isolation and betrayal. If the paths of these two cross for a different reason from what legend foretells a great power will be created. The third, Goddess Rebecca who for legend holds a life of confusion.
The druids had told me of the myth when I was very young. In fact Mordred, my mother's best friend, had told me on my seventh birthday of this myth and how it is very special. When I was ten Mordred was killed in battle by King Arthur. I remember that day very well.
My mother had left me in the hovel so I would be safe from danger while she battled with her army of Saxons and druids in the name of magic. She wanted our kind to be free to practice magic without being persecuted but King Arthur had different ideas. She stormed into the hovel later that night covered in dirt, her hair wild, she looked feral. Blood covered her hands and her eyes were ablaze with hatred. I thought she was going to scream or kill someone, instead she just began to weep. Grief stricken sobs that made me ache to comfort my mother. I walked over to my mother who was now curled up in a ball sobbing. "What is it mother?" She looked up at me, her eyelashes dark with salty tears, her eyes softened at my voice. "It is Mordred child. He is dead." I fell next to my mother in shock. Mordred was a highly skilled man, he was more powerful than everyone, well everyone except my mother. "Ho-How did he-" I began but she cut me off and held me tight to her chest. "King Arthur murdered him with his sword, now he lies under a tree in the Darkling Forest asleep and unbound to this world." That made me sob but my mother gently rocked me while she continued, "Do not fear Rebecca we will see him again, you have to believe that."
"Child you looked troubled. Is it something I have said to make you so?" The silver haired man pulled me from my memories. He eyes reminded my mother's when she tries to comfort me.
"I'm sorry, my mind was elsewhere." I admitted and gave the old man a sad smile.
His hands rested on my own in a gesture of comfort and I didn't pull away. The man was so kind to me yet he didn't even know anything about me. His eyes searched my face with a look of understanding before he lightened the mood.
"Tell me about you child. What is your story?" he said in a kind voice.
Should I tell him that I am Morgana Pendragon's daughter, her secret? No mother would be angry, even if this man is kind I do not know who he is or who he could possible work for. I decided to be brief in my explanation wanting to take as little time as I could so he could tell me more of his.
"Well sir, my name is Rebecca and I live not far from here. Actually the reason I am out so early is for my mother. I am collecting some rare herbs for her." He was listening to me intently but decided that he should ask more questions.
"Who is your mother?" he asked a little too quickly for my liking and I stopped abruptly. "Forgive me, it is just ," he paused again roaming my face. My mother told me that I resemble much of her beauty and my fathers.
"Your hair is like the darkest of nights, your skin the coolest of winter, your smile melts hearts like the first rays of spring. But your eyes, they keep the secrets you hold most dear."
"Never mind child, please continue." He had given up questioning and settled with listening to my life. I told him of how I have never known my father, how I am friends with the druids but made a point of saying that I don't have magic but I do like apocrathy. This of course was a lie, I do have magic, very strong magic that is greater than my own mother's, sometimes I often wonder why but I never ask. I finished my story and the old man chuckled softly.
"It would seem child that your life is a good one." I nodded at him in silent agreement.
"Please sir, tell me more about this woman." I pried. Pretending as though I had forgotten the woman he had spoken of so fondly when I hadn't.
He smiled at me as he remembered her and the moments they had shared. "Well if I am to tell this story correctly I feel as though I should tell it from the very beginning. The moment when I first laid my eyes on her."