Ends & Beginnings
Eighteen years...he could hardly believe it had taken close to eighteen years for him to get this far. For him to stand here, above this menace this...foolish Sorcerer. Dead at his feet, finally, after so much....
Golden flecked emerald eyes swept about the cheering crowd of relieved young Sorcerer's and Sorceress', young Witches and Warlocks. Finally the horrors of the past years had fallen down and theirs would be freedom. But he didn't feel free; no, there was more he was to do. He could feel it in his bones....
"Love?"
He turned, slowly, towards the radiant beauty that brought him such joy. The tension around him seemed to ease quite suddenly and he dropped the sword in hand, breathing out heavily a smile stretching across his face as he closed the gap and grabbed her close. Wrapped his arms tight and buried his face in her hair, taking in her scent his chosen mate.
"We're safe," he breathed out, clutching her tighter, not wanting to let go. "Finally..."
"All thanks to you," she replied, soft-toned and fiery all at once. Ginger hair and choclate eyes captivated him, even as she pulled back and entwined her fingeers with his, smiling that mischievious grin learnt from her own brothers. A pang of sadness swept him at the reminder but he pushed it aside; grieving wasn't for now.
"Celebrate with me?" he asked, his own mischievious smile lighting his face instead. It faded in the next second as her brown eyes changed from loving, to pure horror. "Love?" he quarried and she shook her head, tears beginning to fall.
"No..." she breathed, stepped back, but he didn't understand.
"Love what's--what's wrong?" he asked, swallowing heavily. What had happened in the seconds past?
"No, no please!" she screamed out and the whole room of happiness seemed to change. Everyone was staring in shock and he could only watch, confused and concerned as she collapsed back, crying, into his friends' grasp. "Please no! Please!"
"What--what is wrong? Love?" he questioned. "Tell me what is wrong?" He took a step towards her but she turned away, sobbing. Her brother placed a hand on the shoulder of his girlfriend as she held the woman he loved tightly, soothingly, but staring at him with sorrowful eyes.
"Goodbye, mate," his friend uttered and his eyes widened. He felt something pulling at him, tugging him backward and he roared.
"No!" he tried to claw his way from the grasp, back to his beloved and the happy life, back to what he had fought so hard for but he couldn't reach, couldn't escape. "No! GINNY!"
His eyes went gold, his world went dark, and the last he could hear was his beloved wife-to-be's sobbing.
"Are you alright, my friend?" Balinor found himself asking one evening, glancing towards the emerald eyed, pale-skinned companion. There was tense silence across the fire at the question, the teen--though he looked more like an elf child--stiff as he stared, hard, into the fire with silence.
Finally he uttered a rough, "No," and stood, turning away from the warmth and toward the night. The haunting trees and their broken melody and the crackling of the fire around him. With not even a glance at Balinor the boy faded into the darkened woods.
From his seat Balinor sighed and clenched his fist tightly.
Twenty or so years later...
Merlin wandered through the gates of Camelot, grin already stretching across his face at the thought of the start of his new life in this bustling city of kings.
Deep in the bowels of the castle the Great Dragon stirred for the first time in many years since his imprisonment, sensing the kin of the only one he'd ever called 'friend'.