The Dragonlord would do so for the rest of his life. All of his kith and kin were dead, by the hand of one solitary man. Others wielded the blades that destroyed those born to the powers of the Old Religion or those who chose to follow the tenets of the Triple Goddess, were cut down. Uther gave voice to those orders. The blood of thousands stained his hands, their screams imprinted within his soul. Uther remained unaware, deaf and blind to the destruction he caused.
Only due to the intervention of one man did Balinor manage to escape. Gaius, the brother of Hunith, the woman he gladly would have called wife. The rain continued to fall, showed no sign of slackening. The usual trails he followed when he planned to hunt were now saturated with water. The hunt the Dragonlord planned to undertake this day would now be abandoned. The arrival of the turbulent wind and rain put a halt to that. The storm raged fiercely, the claps of thunder rumbling overhead sent the animals of the forest into their burrows and places of rest.
With a frown Balinor picked up his bow and retreated back into the shadowed depths of the cave. Water trickled downwards, traversed the damp stone in minute trails. An earthy scent lingered, blown in from the forest by the thunderstorm driven winds. At least within the cave he would be sheltered from the downpour. His eyes downcast to the wet stone beneath him, Balinor carefully walked into the back reaches of the cavern.
The throes of the weather outside did nothing to lighten his mood. The roiling clouds resembled his inner state, one of pain, loneliness, despair and rage.
These emotions no longer serve any purpose for me. I don't even know if Hunith is alive. Familiar pain surged forwards, but the Dragonlord willed it down, slamming that unwanted emotion behind mental barriers. Recollections of the past, of what he could have had served no purpose; except to remind him of the events of the Great Purge and the path his life had taken.
He approached the centre of the immense space, the daylight long since faded under the encroachment of the wild rains and winds. Only the brief flash of lighting fracturing the sky provided any presence of light. He uttered one word, his eyes shone gold. Points of mellow radiance pushed back the darkness. Candles lit of their own volition, pushed by the whispered magic. Candlelight reflected from minerals embedded within stalagmites of various sizes. Shining, slender ribbons of water moved into the darkness, until only the
A clutter of clothing, carelessly piled by a pile of furs lay near a wooden shelf attached to the rough cavern wall. The remnants of a cooking fire, a tripod erected over it. A sturdy wooden table and single chair stood near the cook fire. Clay mugs, plates and eating implements were stacked on the table. A few of them showed signs of recent use.
I curse you Uther Pendragon. May your days be filled with nightmares. Like mine have. That thought surfaced unbidden. Balinor regarded his surroundings. Twenty years he lived like an animal, skulking within the shadows, having contact with fellow humans when he deemed it necessary. For twenty years he lived in self imposed exile, the life of a hermit one he did not wish to live.
The choice of life thrust upon him after the Great Purge.
Who wants to see intelligent griffons in this fiction? Let me know if you do, as I have them planned to appear! Thanks to everyone who suggested the Merlin Wikia website! You're all fantastic! The next part of the chapter would have had Gaius make an appearance, but I'll upload that as a separate chapter since I got bitten by a plot dragon!