Son of the Lake

Rating: M for later scenes

Genre: Romance

SUMMARY: Okay. First chapter of my first story. Please read. I am really bad at summaries. Present day Avalon. It has remained connected to our world by a thread. Only a few may now pass through the worlds. And they are desperately needed. Rated M for future chapters.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of Marion Zimmer Bradley's characters. The plot line and original characters are my own. Sadly, I do not own hers. I wish I did. That would be one sweaty night!

A heavy breeze whipped across the beach, well lit from the full moon rising high above. A tall figure in billowing black robes, a hood pulled over his eyes, knelt in the middle of a circle of candles, herbs, and fruit. The wind blew strongly, but the ring of candles seemed unaffected. The wind picked up speed as a low deep chant began. As the chanting grew faster and louder, the tall figure stood, raising his arms above his head. Clouds crashed overhead, gathering quickly but never obscuring the moon. As he raised his eyes to the full moon, his hood fell, revealing ghostly pale skin, raven black hair, and piercing bright blue eyes. He raised his arms and spoke to the sky.

"Great Mother! Great Goddess! Maiden, Mother, Crone! I call to you, Cathubodva, as a child of your ways, a son of the Holy Isle! Mother, for it is Mother I need! I have lost the way! I am alone in this world where you are present, yet renounced in the same breath! Extend to me your glory! Show me the way back to Avalon, most sacred of your homes! Lift me from this world of the Christ, and back into ours, where the Virgin Huntress and Horned One rule! Return me to your graces! Help me!"

He was silent, pleading eyes focused on the full moon at its highest point in the sky. He stayed that way for a few long minutes, before lowering his arms and dropping to his knees, tears silently streaming from his eyes.

A misty fog rolled in at an unnatural pace. It accumulated around the circle, spreading fifty feet around the man.

"Rise, child."

With a start, the young man stood. He was caught with a pang of familiarity. Bowing, he used the greatest gesture of respect. Standing before him, as a powerful vision of the Sight, was the Lady of the Lake, Lake, the High Priestess of Avalon, and the voice of the Goddess on Earth. She was tall, but most of her features were distorted in the fog.

"My Lady! You are most unexpected, but I am honored by your presence."

"You called upon the Goddess, and it is her voice that answers. You seek the way back to Avalon, and I shall bring you there."

"Thank you, my Lady Morgan. I shall forever be in your debt."

"Yes. You shall, for upon your arrival you will be tested. Gawen has recently passed from this world and we are in need of a new …"

"What, Milady?"

"I have little time. Prepare yourself as I part the worlds."

The man quickly extinguished the candles as the Lady faded from view. He ran to the edge of the glass lake and clambered into a boat, using a pole to push himself into the middle of the lake. He slowed the craft to a stop and stood tall, the robes billowing around him as he stood in invocation.

"Use my strength, Lady! Let me help to spread the vale!" He raised his arms above his head, inverted his arms, and dropped them to his sides, crying the word of Power. For a second, it seemed as nothing would happen, and then the mist over the water parted, the full moon shining brightly on the Isle of Avalon.

"I'm home. I'm finally home."

He gave one hard push with the pole towards the island before he collapsed on the floor of the small boat. As it drifted slowly towards Avalon, the Lady Morgan ran to the waters edge, awaiting the returning man.

"He's home. Aydrian, my son. You're home."

Thank you for reading this chapter. Please leave a review. Flames are not accepted, but constructive criticism is!