A man sat quietly on a stone field wall, waiting. He was so still he almost seemed to be part of the scenery; certainly no passers-by gave him a second glance. They probably should have; it was not every man who wore a shrouding cloak in the middle of summer, after all. But somehow this seemed quite normal – perhaps it would rain later? Yes, it rather looked that way, didn't it? Quite sensible, really, to be prepared…

A slight breeze ruffled the man's brown hair, and whipped the hem of his cloak about, revealing a perfectly ordinary pair of breeches, and the edge of a tunic. Still the man did not move. His gaze was fixed on the road before him, and he waited with ageless patience.

Just past noon, a young boy came walking down the road. He was thin and coltish, in the way of youngsters whose bodies have not yet caught up to the promise of height in their limbs, and his clothing looked as though it had seen better days. He came walking, clearly with some purpose in mind, and took no more heed of the man than any other passer-by, until at long last the stranger stirred.

"Greetings, Old One."

For his part the boy jumped, and looked quickly about him to see who this odd fellow might be addressing. Seeing no one else nearby, he plucked up his courage and inquired, "Pardon, sir, but did you mean me?"

The man smiled at the boy before him, his eyes twinkling with poorly-concealed amusement. "Indeed I was, and just as well, for no one else would have understood me." The boy cocked his head to one side, regarding the stranger with oddly dark eyes, and the man laughed. "You do not understand," he said. "You will. There is much to learn, young cub." Standing, he extended a hand to the boy. "Come with me, and we can begin your lessons."

Without really thinking about it, the boy had taken his hand. But now he hesitated, a small frown creasing his brow, emphasizing the boniness of his face. "Lessons, sir? I can't pay for an apprenticeship…"

"There is no need for payment," the man assured him. "You will understand soon. Come!"

They turned as if to proceed down the road, and suddenly before them there was a great set of doors, which opened by themselves. As they passed through the great wooden portal, the boy thought he heard a thread of melody dancing on the breeze, but even as he turned his head to seek its source, it faded, leaving only a tantalizing hint of memory behind.

The doors shut behind them, and the boy looked around. They were in a vast stone hall, greater even than the lord's stronghold. A fire burned merrily in the hearth, and two chairs were drawn up beside it. To these the stranger led him, seating himself and motioning the boy towards the other chair. Hesitantly he obeyed.

"And so, young cub." The man's face was sober, but his eyes twinkled still. "You have been having an odd day, have you not?"

"Y-yes, sir," he stammered. "But – how did you know, sir?"

That was definitely a chuckle. A quiet one, but a chuckle all the same. However, he chose not to answer the question. "Animals are frightened of you. You have been feeling things – perhaps warmth where there should be none, or the sort of hum that precedes a great storm?"

He stared. "That's it exactly!" he exclaimed. "I – I thought I was losing my mind – what is it?"

There was a moment of silence while the man regarded him from under dark brows. The fire crackled and popped cheerfully, casting ever-moving shadows across his face. "It is an awakening," he said at last. "You are awakening to your true nature at last."

"My true nature?" The boy swallowed hard. "Please, sir, you don't mean –"

The man glanced sharply at him. "You have not been listening to that idiotic gossip, I hope?" he asked coldly. Then his face softened, and a hint of a smile played about his lips. "Ah, cub, you are far more than those petty fools in your village can comprehend. No, cub, to answer your question – you are not a demon or spirit. Your father was an ordinary man, but it makes a better tale if he was not – and it gives them a reason to scorn you." He rested his chin thoughtfully on his hand. "What you are, cub, is the same thing I am – an Old One."

"Old One? But I'm only ten!"

The man sat up very straight in his chair, resting his elbows on the armrests and steepling his fingers. His gaze pierced the boy across the fire. "In point of fact, Emrys, you are eleven years old today. And your physical age is not what I am referring to, as you well know."

Emrys squirmed under that glare. "Yes, sir," he admitted. "But I don't understand…"

A faint smile traced the man's features. "That can be rectified, if you cease to be foolish, young cub." He relaxed slightly. "There are many forces in this world beyond the awareness of men. The greatest of these is the High Magic, which orders the universe and sets the law for the other forces. Outside this is the Wild Magic. But it is beneath it that out concern lies."

He watched Emrys carefully as he spoke. "There are two forces, the Light and the Dark, which struggle for supremacy in the world of men. The Dark wishes to bring coldness, cruelty – all the darkness in the world – into full flower. The Light's task – our task – is to prevent this from happening.

"You are an Old One, Emrys, one of the Circle of the Light. It will be your task to gather the rest of the Circle, someday."

"And who are you, sir?" Emrys asked tentatively.

He smiled gently. "I am the one charged with waking you, and teaching you what you need to know. My name is Will."