NINIANNE

Since the day of her birth and for the sixteen years since, Ninianne had always been the youngest person living on Avalon. Now she wasn't any more. It was a weird feeling that simultaneously filled her with relief and dread. Meeting Morgainne hadn't helped her dispose of these feelings either.

Morgainne was a beautiful, blossoming young woman, and while there was already a womanly shape to her, her entire demeanor was still very childlike. She was shy, her entire body was trembling slightly when they first met. And while Morgainne warmed up to her quickly and immediately started pestering her with questions about life on Avalon, it did nothing to help the dread Ninianne felt. How could her mother agree to this? Bring this child here, onto the island.

"She is the chosen one, the oracle said so, we have no choice" Vivianne had told her. Just a few days prior Ninianne had been summoned to the House of the Gods, where her mother had informed her that they would soon be joined by Morgainne. Of course, Ninianne knew all about the divination of the Oracle, which had been told on Avalon ever since, but she had hoped Morgainne would receive her education in one of the many druid schools and only arrive on Avalon as a woman. It had been silly to hold on to a notion as unlikely as this, but it was all Ninianne had. With her mother's revelation, the last bit of hope had blown away like smoke in the wind and Ninianne had been filled with dread ever since. Lady Vivianne was telling her about Morgainne, the daughter of her covensister, Igrainne, who would learn the craft directly from the sisterhood of Avalon.

Ninianne's dismay must've been plain on her face, as Vivianne felt she had to explain herself. "The Oracle has foreseen that she is the next Lady of the Lake. It has to be her. I regret it can't be you, Ninni."

Apparently, her mother had misread.

Ninianne wasn't upset that she herself wasn't "the chosen one", despite the Lady of the Lake being her own mother. She was upset that her mother brought this young woman here, on this island. Where he lived.

Merlin had joined them on Avalon almost five years ago, when Ninianne was just eleven. At first, he had been elusive, spending most of his time in the woods or in the hut he occupied by himself. Every now and then, he joined her mother in the House of the Gods for celebrations, blessings or rituals. Yet it didn't take long until he barely left her mother's side.

Ninianne was used to her mother having male suitors, who came to visit the island, sometimes even stay the night in the House of the Gods, she'd seen them kiss her mother, touch her, hug her. She knew they shared a bed. But none had ever stayed for more than one night. And none had ever moved into the House of the Gods alongside her mother. Until Merlin.

In the beginning, it was fun having Merlin on the island. He was an extremely skilled Mage and unlike her mother wasn't shy about showing off. He'd delighted Ninianne by making sparks fly and dance on his hand, he'd grown a daisy out of her hair, he turned puddles of water into springing fountains on hot summer days for her to play with.

Many an afternoon they sat together while he told her stories about the conquests of the Gods, teaching her incantations and spells, not always to her mother's pleasure.

But as Ninianne got older, everything changed. She grew taller, her shapes changed and on the day of her first blood, an event always celebrated on Avalon, Merlin had paid her more attention than he ever had before. The way he looked at her had changed from one day to the other. His eyes looked at her in a way that made Ninianne shudder.

"You're a woman now. You can lay with a man now" was the first thing he said to her that day. Ninianne was appalled. She had no desire to lie with any man, let alone one as old as Merlin, which she suspected was what he meant by his thinly vailed comment. Being around Merlin became unbearable almost immediately. He started pinching her buttocks every time she walked past him and even groped her growing breasts on occasion. Lude comments dominated their every interaction, always commenced by Merlin's favorite joke - "are you still a virgin?" he'd love to ask her. His advances became bolder and bolder, his suggestions more specific, more detailed, more frequent.

Never had he made any of those comments in front of her mother and Ninianne didn't dare tell her. There were so many things Merlin could do to her. As could her mother, should she believe that Ninianne was lying, or, even worse, encourage Merlin's behavior in any way.

His lusting eyes started showing up in her dreams, haunting her and teasing her of things that might come.
Relief only came when Merlin left on one of his journeys, being frequently summoned to oversee or participate in ceremonies all over Briton, or when Ninianne's brother came to visit.

Spending most of the year with his father in Meirionydd, her mother's first-born son, Lancelot, had always spent his summers on Avalon, where he enjoyed special privileges as a male living on the island by receiving an education from the High Priestess herself. Though from early on, it had been clear that he was destined to be a warrior, much more taken by the sword then scrolls and parchment, their mother had soon relented to stick to the basics, the praising of the Gods and evoking of ancestors.

Ninianne adored the times that Lancelot spent on Avalon. Although he was older than her by several years, he was one of the few people close to her own age that Ninianne knew. Always full of mischief, Ninianne had followed him around the hills since she could walk, getting into trouble with Lancelot at every turn.

Now that they were older, silly games and playfulness had made room for more serious and deep conversations, over a mug of ale or a shank of lamb. Lancelot was without a doubt Ninianne's favorite person and probably the only person she'd ever truly loved.

Merlin would always keep his distance, if not vanish completely during those months that Lancelot spent on Avalon. Every year, a pit grew in Ninianne's stomach the closer the date of Lancelot's departure came, and only seldom could she hold back tears once he had left.

After his latest departure, just a few weeks before Morgainne had arrived on Avalon, Ninianne had taken to carrying a large dagger her brother had made for her on her belt and held it in one hand when she lay down to sleep at night.

Thankfully Merlin had never dared to enter her home in the dark. He was still sharing a bed with her mother at night.

"I'll leave you to get settled, your trunk has already been brought down here" Vivianne's comment to Morgainne snapped Ninianne back to reality. Still dazed by her thoughts, she bowed absent mindedly to her mother, turned around and led Morgainne into their now shared home. It was a small hut, barely enough room for two beds that were both hidden in the back of the hut behind thick woolen curtains to keep out the wind, the cold, and unwanted glances. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, as did a small cauldron hanging over a fire pit in the middle of the room.

To the west was a small basin and a big, pottered jug of water that was brought down every morning by the servants of the island and a small storage area for pots and cauldrons, food, supplies and even more herbs.

To the east stood an altar carved out of a single stone, upon which stood a currently empty chalice, a neat row of various crystals, and several little potted tubs filled with essentials such as salt. Two large black raven feathers lay next to a large shell Lancelot had brought her from the sea. Four different coloured candles decorated every corner. Ninianne had been taught the sacredness of the altar and the dedication to it from a very early age. Hers was always immaculate.

On a table next to the altar stood dozens of little ceramic pots filled with salves, creams, remedies and everything else Ninianne had learned to make over her years as an apprentice to both her mother and Merlin. With an incredible amount of determination, Ninianne had focused on her studies, dedicated herself mostly to Herbology, but also studying Astrology, learning about the ancient Gods and about her ancestors. The history of her family and the history of Avalon.

Magic had always been in her blood and whether she would be the Lady of the Lake or just a village healer, it was her determination to learn and know everything she could. She had already become one of the most knowledgeable and sought after healers on the island, due to her love of herbology. Days had been spent in the woods and along the shores of lakes collecting plants and herbs. These were the days when Ninianne was the happiest. By herself, learning by herself, not another person in sight.

These days came to an end after Morgainne's arrival, as Morgainne quickly became Ninianne's shadow, following her everywhere. Once her nervousness was cast off her shyness evaporated, and she would not stop throwing questions at Ninianne about everything. "What's this? How did you do that? When does my apprenticeship start? How long have you been here, what have you learned?" She turned out to be an extremely inquisitive and bright young lady, soaking up everything Ninianne told her like a sponge and Ninianne found that she greatly enjoyed passing her knowledge on to a fellow apprentice who was as eager to learn as she had been. Taking Morgainne under her wing would be much more enjoyable than she had at first thought.

After three days and a million questions that Ninianne patiently answered, she and Morgainne were summoned to the House of the Gods for the evening meal. While Ninianne was always welcome at the table of her mother, she only chose to eat there in Merlin's absence, otherwise preparing her own food in her own little home. She preferred solitude over the company of certain people.

This, however, was an official request that she neither could nor wanted to deny. It would be an amazing experience for Morgainne to see the Lady of the Lake perform evening worship and Ninianne was excited to experience it aside her.

What few belongings she had brought, Morgainne had stored either behind the curtain of her bedcove or simply left in the trunk. The clothes she had unpacked, although beautifully woven and decorated with lace and gems, were all either brown or so bright green that Ninianne would almost lose sight of her out in the green fields along the hill.

"We shall ask mother for some more fitting clothes for you" Ninianne said as she herself put on one of her classic light blue dresses and covered herself with a hand-woven cloak of blue and white tartan, while she looked at Morgainne in a boring brown robe with a white lace trim on the bottom. "It is customary for apprentices to wear blue" Ninianne explained as led the way out of the house and up the pathway towards the top of the hill.

She stopped in front of the big, square, stone home's oval front entrance. "May we enter?" she asked quietly. She knew her mother had already sensed them approach and there was no reason to shout as she asked to question. Vivianne appeared in the frame, smiling and gesturing for them to come in. Ninianne entered, curtsied and bowed her head so her mother, as always, could kiss her forehead. Morgainne followed her and imitated her curtsy. Her mother took Morgainne's face into her hands and kissed her on the forehead, too.

Ninianne turned to look at Morgainne's face as she, for the first time, took in what was a most magnificent home.

Green and Gold tapestries hung on every wall, while the bottom of each wall was painted with beautiful symbols. Stone carved statues and totems lined the long wall opposite the entrance and used up the space between tapestries. Behind a curtain of blue plaid held up by two wooden rods held together in the middle by a massive stag skull lay Viviane's private chambers, though the curtains were pulled shut. Her chambers filled up almost half of the left side of the house. To the right was an altar, just like her own, but many times bigger. Her mother had offerings for the Gods and the ancestors ready, as they were to worship together before the meal. A big fire was roaring in a rectangle fire pit in the middle of the room, to the left of which stood a long wooden tables with intricately carved legs. Equal to the legs on the chairs that stood on each side of the table. The table was already set with her mother's beautifully painted Greek plates that they would soon eat off. And at the very end of that table sat… he.

Both Ninianne and Morgainne froze upon seeing him, though for different reasons.

Ninianne had never known the age of Merlin, but he must've been around 40 years old by the time he had come to settle on Avalon. Her mother was still several years his junior. The first thing Ninianne noticed about him was that he always smelled. A mixture between biting sulfur and thick sweat always surrounded him. The whiff that now came towards them as Merlin got off his chair and walked around the table towards them immediately made Ninianne gag. She had no idea how her mother could stand it.

Watching him walk towards them, he had apparently made an effort to look pleasant for his first encounter with the future Lady of the Lake. While his brown hair still hung loosely and greasy to his chin, at least he had bothered to remove the chunks of dirt and mud that were usually stuck in it. Around his temple, the hair had already turned gray, and the top was thinning, something he tried to cover up by combing the hair to one side over his forehead. He wore one of his customary green tunics that were all so short, they would ride up over his belly button when he lifted his arms into the air. Though at least, for this occasion, he'd decided to wear a pair of thick, woolen brown trousers. His feet were bare.

Ninianne suppressed the urge to turn and run but he barely looked at her anyway as he headed straight towards Morgainne. She was flashing a huge smile at him, clearly thrilled to meet the great Merlin. His small green eyes were shining.

He walked with a slight limp when the weather was damp, and during heavy rain even relied on a staff. On this day, though, he bounced towards Morgainne like a young man.

Merlin took Morgainne's left hand into his own, while with the other, he magically produced a daffodil he then handed to Morgainne. Her eyes had turned wide, looking almost like a deer, Ninianne thought. Though this deer had no inkling it was standing in front of a wolf.

"Welcome, child" he said.

"Thank you, Master" Morgainne managed to reply, her wide eyes not leaving his. He returned her stare, barely taking his eyes off her to turn to Ninianne for a short greeting "Hello Ninni"

"Good Evening, Master".

It was the first exchange they'd had for many months and it made every hair on her body stand up.

She certainly didn't mind at all Merlin not paying any attention to her. She was just afraid of where that attention would now go.

And she was proven right to be worried the very same evening. After their customary worship rituals, the four of them had sat down at her mother's table while food prepared in the kitchen hut was brought up for them to dine on. A beautifully prepared swan, filled with dried plumbs and roasted onions, covered in a thick, greasy meat broth. The Lady of the Lake always ate well, Ninianne knew, but this was opulent, even for her. Almost as if the kitchen, or her mother, were trying to impress the new arrival.

In between bites, with grease still dripping from his patchy, unkept brown beard that had also gone white in places, and out of absolutely nowhere Merlin turned yet again to Morgainne and asked "so, tell me child, have you bled yet?"

Ninianne almost chocked on the sip of mead she had just taken, while Morgainne's face turned bright red. Vivianne, although slightly stunned, smiled kindly at Morgainne, encouraging her to answer.

"It is important for your training to know whether you are a woman or not" Merlin tried to explain himself.

Quietly, Morgainne answered "I have not, Master".

Something about this answer seemed to displease Merlin, who simply nodded and then went back to his chalice which had already been filled multiple times. For as long as Ninianne had known him, he had always been overly fond of drinking. And the longer the evening usually went, the more his stench of sweat was replaced by the stench of alcohol and more often than not, eventually vomit.