A Druid Camp in the Forest of Ascetir
It had been a week since Mordred had seen Kara. She and her family had left the camp, to visit family members in a village nearby. Since meeting the two of them had become inseparable. Just before she left Kara had given Mordred, a little chain with a half-moon on it. He studied it intently as he made his way into the forest. He stopped off to taste some berries he spotted, growing on a bush.
The forest was changing month by month; there was an urgency that had taken over. There was less singing from the birds, as they searched for food for their youngsters. The Deer who where barely seen in the winter where now more visible eating berries off bushes. Down by Mordred's favourite stream he could see the tadpoles swimming around. He sat down and watched them for a while, fascinated as to how they moved.
Feeling suddenly tired Mordred walked over to his favourite hiding place, a hollow in a broke tree. With the sun shining down, he manoeuvred his way into the middle and began to rest his weary eyes. Before long he was fast asleep. Animals and birds passed by the sleeping boy, Mordred was able to sense their presence, as he slept, his mind never closing down completely.
As he slept he dreamed of his friend Kara. He could see her friendly face. There always seemed to be a little glimmer of mischief in her eyes. It was that which had made her so attractive to the serious little boy. As a lonely child growing up Mordred had reached the stage where he didn't expect anyone to like him. The revelation that this girl a year younger, could suddenly find him even bearable, had given Mordred such a boost. Suddenly it didn't matter what anyone else thought. He could take the distrust of everyone else, as he had someone who only judged him for what he was; and not what they feared he'd become.
Did it really matter after all what happened in the years ahead he wondered? Surely only here and now mattered. As he learned more about his magic, he was aware that some people seemed to take an interest in what he could do. To Mordred his magic was a personal thing, but at times it was as if others would take, an unhealthy interest in it. It was something that made him tense. He knew he was gaining unique powers as he grew. Mordred's father would always remind him, that he owed it to himself, to only use his magic for good.
Mordred tried his best to do that, but sometimes it was difficult. The more power he accumulated the more difficult it became, to know what the right thing to do was. Sometimes as Mordred discovered life was not simple. Good and bad became very clouded, the lines would dim between them. His conversation with Kara would sometimes blur as well. Kara had suffered much he knew, so maybe that influenced her into what she thought about life.
He wished he could understand fear better. The fear people felt in his presence, the fear he sometimes thought about himself, because of it. His father and Kara would describe it as ignorance on the part of other people. Mordred often thought it was something else. Why did he have the impression that there was something he didn't know?
Suddenly he awoke aware of someone nearby. He opened his eyes and scanned the horizon. There ahead where a couple of men, to Mordred they looked like bandits. There where numerous gangs that lived in the forest, besides the Druids. The Druids being a peaceful group would tolerate the gangs. But most of the gangs had little time for the Druids. They considered them strange people, with strange beliefs. Mordred narrowed his eyes and followed their movements, from his hiding place.
He remained as still as he could, one of the bandits was feet in front of him, as he gathered up firewood with his companion. The bandit suddenly noticed a piece of wood almost in front of Mordred's foot, he bent down to pick it up; only then seeing Mordred sitting there. Dropping his firewood, he pulled the boy by the foot out of the tree, before grabbing hold of his arm.
"Well look what we have here. One of those damned Druids from the looks of it." He shouted over to his companion.
The other bandit came over as Mordred was pushed towards him. Mordred was suddenly in the middle of them. His head turned from one to the other trying to guess what would happen next.
"What do you think we should do with him then?" the bandit continued looking over at his friend.
"We could sell him, I hear you can make money out of these Druids." The other bandit said.
Mordred glared at him, he knew he had to think of something, to get himself away. He closed his eyes for a second, concentrating his mind. Suddenly he could feel a familiar pulse of magic building up inside of him. As the voices of the bandits continued to mock him, the magic inside Mordred built and got more powerful. As the first bandit made to grab him again, he gave off an enormous sonic cry. The cry was powerful enough to the knock both men to the ground, and totally silence the entire forest as well.
Mordred took his chance and ran, not bothering to look back at the sight of the two still bodies, lying on the ground. Eventually he stopped, confident that no one was about he rested against a tree. He collapsed on the ground suddenly weary. Inside his mind he could still hear the cry he had managed to create. It both thrilled him and terrified him in equal measures. His father's words came back to him, "you must only use your magic for good Mordred." For a second Mordred wondered if he just had, or was this the reason so many people feared him. As he continued back to the camp, the question continued to bother him.
Cerdan had just arrived back at the camp. He had been requested to go to another camp, and help cure one of the group's elders. He felt tired and for some reason uneasy. He constantly worried about leaving Mordred, when he had to go away. Especially since his son's companion Kara had left. But he also knew his son had to get use to being on his own. It was a tough decision to get right. Reminding himself about how much better Mordred had become recently, he did his best to keep the demons at bay. As he entered the tent he and Mordred lived in, he noticed his son was not around. Trying to keep his nerves under control, he went over to the elder.
"Have you seen Mordred?" Cerdan asked trying to keep calm.
"He went out in the afternoon. I'm sure he will be back any minute." The elder replied. "How did your trip go, will Ezir be alright?" he asked.
"Time will tell is the answer I'm afraid. I've done my best, he is very old though." Cerdan said gently.
The elder nodded. "As we all our, present company accepted." He smiled. "I have to say I have noticed a positive change in young Mordred."
"I know." Cerdan smiled, "Amazing what having a friend can do. I always knew that would make a difference to him."
"Indeed Cerdan I remember you saying. Mordred will have considerable powers, I'm sure you are aware of that."
Cerdan looked at the elder his expression tense. "I know that. It is a difficult balance sometimes to achieve."
"Yes indeed, you know his power will be noticed by others. Others who will not necessarily be a good influence over him." The elder reflected.
"Are you thinking of anyone in particular?" Cerdan asked.
"I think we both know the answer to that."
Cerdan followed the elder's eyes over to a tent in the corner. The two newcomers there had created much unease among the regulars in the camp. They had a reputation for being opportunists.
"If that is a warning, I thank you for it." Cerdan replied, "I will do my best to keep Mordred away from them."
"So will I Cerdan, you have my promise." The elder smiled. "Ah here is your son now. I will leave you to it. "Hello Mordred."
Mordred smiled at the elder and hugged Cerdan, taking Mordred's hand Cerdan walked his son back to their tent.
"It's good to see you Mordred, you can help me with some potions if you like?" Cerdan smiled.
Mordred nodded smiling. Cerdan had a feeling that all was not well. He like Kara had noticed when Mordred's smile did not reach his eyes. Suddenly his worries he had on arrival back at the camp, resurfaced. Having made so much progress with his son, he was determined he would not go back to how he was before. He knew the best approach was to encourage him out of his somber mood.
"So what did you do today Mordred?" he asked attempting his son into conversation.
"I got some herbs for you, from the clearing by the stream." He said, but Cerdan noticed his son did not want to look at him.
"You like that place don't you?" Cerdan said gently.
"I go there to think." Mordred said stirring the pot.
"That is very serious." Cerdan remarked, trying to coax his son into happier subjects. "Did you notice how much the forest has changed now?"
"Yes." Mordred replied.
Suddenly Cerdan had a terrible feeling overcoming him. He knew that his son was somehow suffering, he could tell just by watching how mechanical Mordred had become in his actions, and also the way his whole face had shut down. Something told him he had to get through to him and fast.
Cerdan crotched down and held his son by the shoulders gently. "Mordred you know you can tell me anything, I mean anything. I would never desert you or judge you. Never think that."
All of a sudden emotion burst out of Mordred. Tears cursed down his face, his speech became stunted between his sobs, as he attempted to tell his father of what had happened.
"I did a terrible thing. But it all happened so quickly." He cried, not daring to look at his father.
The sobs where cursing through Mordred's body, Cerdan hugged his son to him, absorbing his cries, and fearing what he was about to hear. His son's crying went on for a few minutes Cerdan encouraged the emotion out. He always wondered at these moments if he was doing this right. How he missed Jayall at times like this, she would know what to do he thought sadly. Eventually Mordred's tears began to slow. Cerdan sad down, and pulled his son next to him. Smoothing his hair back from his face he said.
"Mordred please tell me, I won't be angry I promise you."
Mordred began to recount the tale of his experiences. He described being asleep, the bandits creeping up on him. He spoke of how frightened he was, but also of how he felt his power come so easily to the surface. As Cerdan listened to his son's story, he wondered what frightened Mordred most; was it the incident itself, or realising the powers he had at his disposal. Everything that Cerdan feared for his boy, was suddenly coming true, and he wanted to weep for him in that moment. First thing first though he thought to himself. Grabbing Mordred by the hand he said.
"First of all what they did was wrong, to try and snatch you like that." Cerdan began.
"But what I did was wrong wasn't it?" Mordred cried "you said I had to use my magic for good."
Cerdan struggled, he could sense his son's desperation, but wondered how on earth he could get through to him. He knew his son's abilities where powerful. He also knew his son needed to try and temper them, when he could. But how could he condemn him in a moment like this? His son had been frightened, vulnerable, and his powers had naturally come to the surface. Yet Cerdan sensed there was something more. The line between what was wrong and what was right, was narrow at the best of times. The line for Mordred was dulled even more, because of the powers he had.
"Had you done this out of spite, out of hatred for someone, then yes I would condemn it, because you would have been using it for your own gain. But what happened today Mordred was different. These people where a threat to you, I'm not saying you should always do this. But today you had a lesson on how powerful your magic and gift is. Do not cry, you must use this as a lesson to learn from. In time you will learn to control your magic better."
As he looked at Mordred, the boy was still too quiet for Cerdan's liking, and he was still far from convinced he had got through to him, in the way he wanted. But suddenly Mordred looked weary, Cerdan suggested that he had a little sleep.
As Mordred twitched away in his sleep, Cerdan watched him, before closing his eyes and realising that today his son had lost his innocence. As Cerdan too drifted into an uneasy sleep his mind was full of worries for the future ahead.