Chapter 1 No One Can Escape Fate
"Ouch."
Hunith woke up from her unconscious state and rubbed her back as shooting pain crawled up her spine.
"What the?" she mused in confusion while she surveyed her surroundings. "How did I get here?"
Getting up, the young woman dusted herself off.
"Merlin..."
Wide eyes searched unfamiliar surroundings. She spotted him sleeping soundly underneath a tree and rushed over to him. She lifted up her son and gave him the tightest hug she could.
"I don't know where we are, or how we ended up here, but I will fix this, Merlin. We will get back home."
By the position of the sun, it was about five in the afternoon, indicating that it would grow dark in less than two hour's time.
"Hello?" Her lips trembled as she held herself in wait for an answer but received none.
'This is bad,' Hunith thought grimly. Her mind searched for a reasonable explanation, some kind of rationality that would explain them being here. It was a total mystery to her, no explanation, nothing.
She seemed to be in a small clearing, with several trees surrounding her.
'Hmm, a forest maybe?'
Her musings were abruptly interrupted as, suddenly, a group of what seemed to be rolling boulders passed her by. Hunith looked confused as ever, but decided on following them.
"Wait, what's going on?! Who are you?!"
It was that moment the boulders started rolling back over to Hunith. Suddenly they all uncurled and revealed human-like faces, grass for clothes and crystal necklaces as all blinked at the same time.
Some of the trolls came up to Hunith to greet her, but she instinctively backed off.
Two young trolls came up to Hunith and asked if they could play with Merlin to which she disagreed to. Merlin was a bit too young to play with them.
The one called Pabbie, Granpabbie to some, strode to her and bowed.
"...If you don't mind me asking, what is a young woman like yourself doing out in the middle of nowhere?" the old troll inquired, clearing his throat.
His question immediately snapped her, and the other trolls, out of their trances.
She didn't know whether to trust the troll, but with not much choice, she complied.
"I don't know," Hunith answered lamely.
Seeing the doubtful expressions which crossed the troll's faces, the young woman continued.
"I just… woke up here, and then you guys rolled along," she elaborated unsurely.
The group of trolls considered this strange statement and raised sceptical eyebrows at her.
The elderly troll narrowed his eyes at her remained silent.
"Hmm, do you recall anything before you woke up? Maybe you can figure out how you got here," the troll asked while stroking his grass-like hair.
Hunith frowned and pressed her lips into a straight line – 'concentrating' the old troll's thought.
"Well, I do remember entering some sort of portal," the woman recalled.
"I'm sorry, portal?" the elderly troll interjected.
"W-what is this kingdom called?" the woman asked, praying to any and all spirits that someone would answer Albion or something of the like.
«Arendelle»
«A-Arendelle?»
« We are in the Valley of the Living Rock, inside the Kingdom of Arendelle," one of the female trolls informed her.
No recognition showed on her face. The elderly troll frowned at this implication.
'Where is this girl from?' he pondered.
Meanwhile, the woman seemed to be suffering from an existential crisis as she inwardly tried to make sense of the situation.
Grass for clothes, strange creatures wearing glowing crystal necklaces indicating to one thing... something which Hunith didn't think was in the realm of possibility. Of course, the alternative explanation was that she'd finally gone crazy, but, if the woman had to hazard a guess, she'd say that she was in... another world.
Now, Hunith's only problems were figuring out how to return, and also what to do with those present.
She contemplated, for a moment, leaving the strangers and somehow finding her own way back home, but considering she had no knowledge of the possible dangers which this world presented...
'Oh for the love of Albion, I hope they believe me.'
"I know this might sound crazy," Hunith slowly conceded with a sigh, "but... I think I'm in another world. I've travelled the land many times and I've never come across any place called Arendelle, or the Valley of the Living Rock. You see, I'm from Ealdor, a small village in Essetir."
The looks of confusion which the woman received were confirmation enough that her speculation was correct.
"I've never heard of that place. Such a strange name, Ealdor did you say, odd. What is your name?" One of the shortest, stubbiest troll questioned, his accent the strangest Hunith had ever heard.
"My name is Hunith," the woman responded kindly.
«What are your names?" she questioned.
All of them, she noticed, looked questioningly at the old troll who was still stroking through his grass hair, considering this strange girl.
Despite her rather outrageous statement, all of her words had been spoken with such sincerity that it was hard not to believe her.
She had a trusting face, he thought.
After a few more seconds of contemplation, he nodded to his companions and smiled at this Hunith. It was a strange name, to say the least.
'A strange name for a strange girl,' he thought humorously.
"I am Pabbie, Granpabbie to some, leader of our tribe of trolls" the newly dubbed, Gandalf, spoke kindly, bowing slightly as he introduced himself.
"My name is Bulda!" A female troll smiled.
"I'm Brock, the Mystical,"
"And I'm Soren."
"Trolls?" Korra repeated. "As in magic?" Hunith eyed the elderly troll curiously.
«I thought trolls were supposed to be..., larger.»
Soren stepped up. «Hey, size doesn't matter?!»
The rock trolls possessed great magic, Hunith could tell; if anyone could help baby Merlin, they could.
Everyone looked at Hunith, who was deep in thought.
«Could I Ask you a favor?»
"How may we be of service?"
"This is my son, Merlin..," Hunith explained, clutching her one year old. These were not her homelands, but she believed that the inhabitants here could help her son. "I have nowhere else to turn, so I hope you can help me,"
Hunith dropped to her knees, holding out baby Merlin. "My son. He has an...affliction," she began cautiously. "Every physician in Albion insists nothing is wrong, but they have not seen what I have. He has made it rain in his nursery, he has made images in smoke that has danced across the sky, and most recently, he has made the candles set fire to objects when he is upset. Even more worrisome are the fires that form and dissipate rapidly when he cries in pain."
Pabbie looked at the child from a distance, a considering expression on his stony face. "You're from Albion?" the old troll replied. "I must apologize, I used to know a man from Albion. I just hadn't heard of Ealdor,"
"Oh, no need to apologize, as I said, Ealdor is a small village."
Pabbie moved closer and touched the child's head gently. He withdrew quickly, as if he'd recieved a shock, and turned to the woman. "Your physicians are correct, though they do not know why," he began slowly. "Your son does not suffer from an affliction, but a manifestation. Your son is destined to be the greatest Warlock the world has ever seen. He was born with these powers.."
Hunith stared at the troll, dumbfounded. After a few moments, she finally found her voice. "Are you suggesting that...my son...has magical abilities?"
Pabbie nodded. "Indeed. Emerys' powers will continue to grow, at least until he matures. He must never fear these powers, however. They are a part of who he is, and he must embrace them. His powers can greatly benefit your kingdom."
Hunith hung her head. She had not been prepared for magic. Lifting her head, she muttered quietly, "You don't understand. Words spreads like wildfire in our tiny village. His powers won't be praised because magic is banned. Merlin will have to hide it, at least for now.»
"I fear no good will come of it," the troll said sadly, gazing intently at the woman beside him. "There are a people who practice magic for the good of all. They are called druids."
"I've heard of them," the Hunith nodded, brow furrowing in confusion.
"Some of the druids are powerful enough to know what still could be – they are Seers. These Seers have spoken of things long before they've come to pass." The troll eyed the woman warily, watching for her reaction. "There is a prophecy."
Her eyes widened. "Of…Merlin?"
The old troll nodded grimly. "No one future is set in stone, and the druids have been wrong before…but this prophecy is hundreds of years old. It speaks of love and betrayal, and a terrible danger to all the kingdoms."
What must I do? Surely I can prevent this from happening?" Her voice was soft, as if she was afraid to hope.
Pabbie looked at her in silence for a second, and then sighed heavily, shaking his head. "One's decisions can cause one future just as much as it can prevent another. By trying to avoid this prophecy, you may very well make it possible. No, it is best to ignore it…best to let destiny choose if it is to be truth. 'If locks should fail and courage flee'…well, then the destinies of Elsa and the Great Emrys shall be entwined."
Pabbie looked deep into the woman's eyes, took her hand and gently squeezed it.
"The only thing you can do is to love him. For as long as you can. And then, when the time seems right, then send him to someone who can teach him to love his powers, and to use them for the good of the Kingdom. Find him a mentor who can help him practice with his powers, so that he may control them. With the right guidance, he will reach his full potential."
Hunith considered Pabbie's words carefully. "I will do as you suggest. It will be difficult, but I will do it for my son, and my kingdom." With a quick thank you, she turned on her heel.
"Wait a second, how do I get back home?!"
"I advise you to go back to the place where you woke up. You will be stuck here until a portal opens...," Pabbie turned to one of the female trolls. "Bulda, please accompany Hunith. Try to find an open portal so that she can go back home,"
Bulda nodded. They remounted and headed back north, little Merlin sound asleep in his mother's arms.
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"Was that who I think it was?" One of the male trolls asked Pabbie, who still stood where Hunith and Bulda had left him.
"Yes, Gothi," he nodded. "That was the young Emrys. Let us hope he grows into the Great Warlock he is destined to become."
"And what of the Queen of Ice? Has she yet come?" Soren asked.
Pabbie glanced up. The colors of the aurora danced in the night sky above them. "She has come today. And nothing will prevent her fate. She will rise to her destiny as surely as the sun will rise at dawn."