Kind of a short chapter but I got writer's block halfway through and sort of zoned out. Sorry. I'll write more later but my grandma just died and I'm kind of depressed.

Disclaimer: I do not own mists of Avalon but Morgan is my character. Well. sort of.

*~*Chapter Two*~*

Morgan looked around. The room was rather small, only about 5 feet on each wall! But there aren't any walls. She thought, Only books! For indeed where the walls of the room should had been there were books! Thousands of them! There was only enough room for one table in the room and even it was rather small but in the center of the table, untouched by dust and age, was a small book. Morgan caught her breath in her throat. Was this little book calling to me? She wondered but put aside that thought. She sat at the chair, it was rather small, as if made specifically for someone that height, but it fit her surprisingly well. She looked at the book, not quite daring to touch it, and saw that it was a sort of a diary. At least it was handwritten.

Summoning up all her courage she picked up the book. A shiver ran down her spine and she shuddered but nothing happened. No wind, no sudden unexplainable thunder, nothing. She let out her breath and started turning through the book. There was nothing written there. She turned to the first page and words began to appear! She dropped the book. Then she bent and picked it up. She rubbed her eyes. There was nothing there. She almost laughed but stopped as the writing began to appear again.

"Dearest Ancestor and Heir Of Morgaine, Lady of the Lake,

I am glad that you have found this book in this room. By now I am dead and at peace and you must not mourn me for I am happy. Even if I go to the Hell that the priests talk of. You have grown to your inheritance at last and are to become Lady of the Lake in my place. It will be hard but you will succeed because it is my blood that runs through you veins and Viviane's and The great Merlin of Britain's. And, of course, in yours. It is because of that, that I must write to you before I go. There is no one to be my heir at this moment and unless Gwydion, or Mordred as the knights call him now, has an heir Avalon will diminish and go away forever. I, therefore, have set certain qualities that the true Lady must possess and if there is no heir than the book shall call whoever possesses those qualities to it. Congratulations! You must now go unto the Isle of Mists for your training as the Lady. If it has been several centauries since I write here in this little book then you will be transported back into time. I am sorry but this cannot be changed.

May the Mother bless you,

Morgaine, Lady of Avalon."

Morgan gave a start. All these names! Morgaine! Viviane! And Gwydion. She was sure she had heard them before. But where? It was like, like there was a great fog in her mind and she couldn't see through it but she knew there was a friend on the other side. She wanted to cross the fog but how? Oh well she thought and decided to got to the 'Isle of Mists'.