12-16-2013, 12:57 PM
Merlin’s eyes opened suddenly. He tried to remember where he was through the cottony thoughts in his head. He raised himself to a sitting position and groaned at a tender bruised feeling in his lower back. Where he had been sleeping the sharp ridge of a rock poked through the ground. Ivy had grown over his legs, he pulled them free with a kick. He was sitting in a pleasant clearing in the woods, a delicate brook trickled along not far off. At the edge, a white horse was munching along on clover. It lifted its head, looked over at Merlin, shook its head reproachfully and returned to eating. The remains of his crimson clothing was rotting away next to him, as fragile as it was beautiful. Seeing the clothing reminded him of the fauns that made it.
Avalon. Merlin was on Avalon. Now that his mind was clearing, he could feel the thrum of the magic isle through the ground. How did he get to Avalon? He twisted his neck back and forth to relieve the cricks and stretched out his back. He brushed loose leaves, dirt and weeds from his bare shoulders and the front of his chest and stood up. Then he remembered his beard. He tried to force his fingers through it but it was tangled up with leaves and twigs. He sighed as he walked toward his horse, shaking detritus out of his back and buttocks. That would teach him to fall asleep naked in the woods. Nimue! His heart stopped for a moment as he remembered her, his last vision of her beautiful hair framing her face as it cascaded down to him. What had happened to her? As his mind cleared he remembered everything that had led up to his current situation which forced him to consider a more important matter - Queen Aelphaba. She had given him a deadline.
Draped over a large white rock next to his horse Merlin found his robes and slipped into them. He found his staff laying on the ground and picked it up. His wonderful mithril blade had somehow been driven right into the center of the rock until only half a foot of blade and the hilt were visible. After he dressed, Merlin gripped it with both hands and tugged but it was embedded solidly in the rock. He spoke a few words in ancient Aelfish, allowed the power to flow through his hands and pulled as hard as he could. The blade remained fast. He tried wiggling it back and forth, pressed his shoulder right to the hilt and tried to force it forward to loosen it. Nothing. Feeling a little foolish, Merlin looked around the clearing to see if anyone was watching. No one was around but his horse which immediately turned its head, dipping it back to the clover. Merlin paced in front of the sword. He didn't want to leave this marvelous sword behind but he couldn't afford to spend anymore time solving this puzzle.
Merlin turned away from the sword. He had other business to attend to before he could leave so there was no sense dwelling on the problem. He went to the brook and took his time scrubbing himself clean, then gathered some branches from the forest and set a blaze going close to where his sword was still stuck. He collected some berries, some herbs and some spare tubers from the forest and made a slight meal of it. When he was done eating he sat cross-legged next to the fire, cleared his head and looked deep into the flames.
His first vision was of Arthur in the thick of battle. He was mounted but fighting in the swamplands north of Londinium so his horse was moving sluggishly. Knights flanked all sides trying to protect him but Arthur was never one to stay behind. His heels pushed him slightly up out of his saddle moments before he brought a mace crushing down on the helm of a mounted Gaulish mercenary. The force of the blow drove the man’s horse to its knees where the man slumped off it. Arthur let out a roar and swung his horse around just as a Roman legionnaire attempted to stick him with a spear. Arthur grabbed the spear under his left arm and forced the man to the ground using the weight of his horse to drive the hilt of it into the man’s mid-section. The vision faded and another took its place - that of the moon slightly more than half full.
Merlin shook the visions out of his head. He had slept a little over two weeks. It was bad but it could be worse. He still had two weeks left to claim his dragon, enact his plan and fulfill his part of the bargain to Aelphaba. He should have enough time but he had to hurry now. With a clasping motion of his right hand, the fire winked out of existence. Merlin walked over to his rock-encased sword, mumbled some words under his breath, made two wide sweeping motion with his arms that spanned the width of the stone then briskly clapped them together. The stone and the sword shrank at once to the size of a toy and Merlin picked it up and placed it in his pocket. With a leap he mounted his horse and gave it a slap on the flank guiding it back toward the path.
The sun was setting when Merlin made it to the mouth at the base of the great volcano Ischillith. The forest lay far behind his back, looking like a rich green carpet fading in the distance as he rode the path right up to the entrance. He paused briefly and looked into the cave. The entrance was at least twenty feet tall and just as wide making passage into the mountain easy. He made a motion and the tip of his staff lit up. As he rode into the cave, the walls drew back with the flickering shadows cast by his staff. The path was hot and acrid with the poisonous volcanic smoke but it was roomy and easy to travel. As he rode along it grew hotter and hotter and he could feel the earth moaning with the constant release of lava in the distance. After riding through the mountain for over thirty minutes Merlin arrived at a natural hall formed in the center of the volcano. A river of lava flowed slowly against the far side, casting an orangish light and making the heat almost unbearable.
To the right, Merlin saw a massive dragon sculpture, much larger than any real dragon, intricately carved and placed like it was standing guard. He rode up to it in wonder. The workmanship was marvelous, every scale was perfect. He pondered who could have done this and how they managed to get it here. It was at least five time larger than the entrance. He dismounted and walked up to one of its great taloned feet. At full height Merlin barely crested its one carved talon. He reached out a hand and ran it along the surface, brushing up a cloud of ash from the smooth surface as he did.
All at once, the whole mountain started to shake. Merlin was knocked off his feet. Slivers of rock started falling from the statue. Merlin made a quick motion and an imperceptible shield covered him like an umbrella deflecting the dangerous missiles falling at him. The statue started to vibrate, then to shake and finally to move. The great wings flexed once knocking a sheath of stone to the ground. Impossibly, where the statue stood a moment before was a massive red dragon. It brought its head down to where Merlin was sprawled on the ground. “Hello Merlin,” Ygdrassil spoke, “I've been waiting for you.”
Avalon. Merlin was on Avalon. Now that his mind was clearing, he could feel the thrum of the magic isle through the ground. How did he get to Avalon? He twisted his neck back and forth to relieve the cricks and stretched out his back. He brushed loose leaves, dirt and weeds from his bare shoulders and the front of his chest and stood up. Then he remembered his beard. He tried to force his fingers through it but it was tangled up with leaves and twigs. He sighed as he walked toward his horse, shaking detritus out of his back and buttocks. That would teach him to fall asleep naked in the woods. Nimue! His heart stopped for a moment as he remembered her, his last vision of her beautiful hair framing her face as it cascaded down to him. What had happened to her? As his mind cleared he remembered everything that had led up to his current situation which forced him to consider a more important matter - Queen Aelphaba. She had given him a deadline.
Draped over a large white rock next to his horse Merlin found his robes and slipped into them. He found his staff laying on the ground and picked it up. His wonderful mithril blade had somehow been driven right into the center of the rock until only half a foot of blade and the hilt were visible. After he dressed, Merlin gripped it with both hands and tugged but it was embedded solidly in the rock. He spoke a few words in ancient Aelfish, allowed the power to flow through his hands and pulled as hard as he could. The blade remained fast. He tried wiggling it back and forth, pressed his shoulder right to the hilt and tried to force it forward to loosen it. Nothing. Feeling a little foolish, Merlin looked around the clearing to see if anyone was watching. No one was around but his horse which immediately turned its head, dipping it back to the clover. Merlin paced in front of the sword. He didn't want to leave this marvelous sword behind but he couldn't afford to spend anymore time solving this puzzle.
Merlin turned away from the sword. He had other business to attend to before he could leave so there was no sense dwelling on the problem. He went to the brook and took his time scrubbing himself clean, then gathered some branches from the forest and set a blaze going close to where his sword was still stuck. He collected some berries, some herbs and some spare tubers from the forest and made a slight meal of it. When he was done eating he sat cross-legged next to the fire, cleared his head and looked deep into the flames.
His first vision was of Arthur in the thick of battle. He was mounted but fighting in the swamplands north of Londinium so his horse was moving sluggishly. Knights flanked all sides trying to protect him but Arthur was never one to stay behind. His heels pushed him slightly up out of his saddle moments before he brought a mace crushing down on the helm of a mounted Gaulish mercenary. The force of the blow drove the man’s horse to its knees where the man slumped off it. Arthur let out a roar and swung his horse around just as a Roman legionnaire attempted to stick him with a spear. Arthur grabbed the spear under his left arm and forced the man to the ground using the weight of his horse to drive the hilt of it into the man’s mid-section. The vision faded and another took its place - that of the moon slightly more than half full.
Merlin shook the visions out of his head. He had slept a little over two weeks. It was bad but it could be worse. He still had two weeks left to claim his dragon, enact his plan and fulfill his part of the bargain to Aelphaba. He should have enough time but he had to hurry now. With a clasping motion of his right hand, the fire winked out of existence. Merlin walked over to his rock-encased sword, mumbled some words under his breath, made two wide sweeping motion with his arms that spanned the width of the stone then briskly clapped them together. The stone and the sword shrank at once to the size of a toy and Merlin picked it up and placed it in his pocket. With a leap he mounted his horse and gave it a slap on the flank guiding it back toward the path.
The sun was setting when Merlin made it to the mouth at the base of the great volcano Ischillith. The forest lay far behind his back, looking like a rich green carpet fading in the distance as he rode the path right up to the entrance. He paused briefly and looked into the cave. The entrance was at least twenty feet tall and just as wide making passage into the mountain easy. He made a motion and the tip of his staff lit up. As he rode into the cave, the walls drew back with the flickering shadows cast by his staff. The path was hot and acrid with the poisonous volcanic smoke but it was roomy and easy to travel. As he rode along it grew hotter and hotter and he could feel the earth moaning with the constant release of lava in the distance. After riding through the mountain for over thirty minutes Merlin arrived at a natural hall formed in the center of the volcano. A river of lava flowed slowly against the far side, casting an orangish light and making the heat almost unbearable.
To the right, Merlin saw a massive dragon sculpture, much larger than any real dragon, intricately carved and placed like it was standing guard. He rode up to it in wonder. The workmanship was marvelous, every scale was perfect. He pondered who could have done this and how they managed to get it here. It was at least five time larger than the entrance. He dismounted and walked up to one of its great taloned feet. At full height Merlin barely crested its one carved talon. He reached out a hand and ran it along the surface, brushing up a cloud of ash from the smooth surface as he did.
All at once, the whole mountain started to shake. Merlin was knocked off his feet. Slivers of rock started falling from the statue. Merlin made a quick motion and an imperceptible shield covered him like an umbrella deflecting the dangerous missiles falling at him. The statue started to vibrate, then to shake and finally to move. The great wings flexed once knocking a sheath of stone to the ground. Impossibly, where the statue stood a moment before was a massive red dragon. It brought its head down to where Merlin was sprawled on the ground. “Hello Merlin,” Ygdrassil spoke, “I've been waiting for you.”
