A Herald of a New Age

Chapter six. Troubled

|an| Will resume the normal chapter length next time don't worry |an|

Troubled

Elyan knew he'd seen a lot. Not as much as some people back in Camelot- like Gaius, but for a man of his age... He had certainly seen more in his life than Arthur, and Probably Merlin too, though he was becoming unsure of that. Maybe not as much as Gwaine, but then, most of what Gwaine had ever seen happened inside the walls of taverns. Percival had never talked about his past much, and that left clues in itself as to what the Knight had been through. Leon had sat by Arthur all his life, loyal and true to the bone, but he hadn't had the world throw all it had at him, like it had at Elyan.

Elyan had grown up in the lower town of Camelot. He had spent five happy years there with his sister, mother and father. They hadn't had much, but it had been enough to make them happy. Elyan had been born in the aftermath of The Purge, and, for those first few years, he had believed he had been born into a time of peace at last. That was until his mother disappeared in the night. Found dead in the streets the next morning. Even though he was the younger, Gwen had buried her head in his tunic so she didn't have to watch as their mother was loaded onto a cart and wheeled out of the city. Elyan had comforted her and wished he could do the same, but for some reason he knew he must watch. He must face up to the fact that the world was not a just as he thought. He had forced himself to watch the woman who had loved him and her family; the woman who had never faltered in her will to do good; the woman who lived on in his sister; be flung carelessly aside by Uthers soldiers, whilst his father pleaded to know what had happened.

Tom requested an audience with the King the next day, and all Uther had told him was that his wife was dead and there was nothing he could do about it. He had told Tom that maybe it was for the best, as the locals had been reporting suspicious behaviour for some time. He had said it was better a sorceress died quietly.

Elyan had left that night. Never wanting to return within the walls of that God forsaken city. He had traveled to a small village he knew of, in Angard. Being only six he had nearly died on the journey by foot, but he had had a sword. A small sword, from the forge, and it kept the fear at bay. It was on that journey to find a new life that he had discovered his stamina for adventure, and his eventual love of the Unknown. He had survived.

It was that journey, Elyan suspected, that had shaped who he was now. And yet, he had found himself serving Uther once more- if only briefly and, if only for Arthur, but he had still done it. He had simply concluded that anger faded, when you had lived off of it for the most part of your life. Like a chest of coins, it was finite, there was only so long you could live on it before you had to earn some more.

And he could say he had earned his fair share more anger recently.

It was all fate apparently. That's what the Druids had said. "This has been foretold in prophecy among our kind for generations." Yeah right, Elyan had thought.

He still couldn't quite believe it now. Having read up on possession and Druid law as soon as he could after the incident at the shrine, he could find no accounts of anything like what the Druids said had happened to him. It seemed impossible. Though much of what he had found was in such a language that he couldn't read.

And the fact that surprised him most was that he hadn't noticed. He hadn't noticed something was off until he heard the voices. Merlins voice. In his mind. Merlin had called out to the Druids and they had told him where they were. They had trusted him. Yet, no one else could hear it. Only Elyan.

That night in the camp He had felt Merlins questioning gaze on him as he left to see the Druids. He hadn't been able to sleep as much as the manservant couldn't seem too, maybe it was because they were both affected by the voices, he had thought. It had been strange, because although he had told the Knights he felt ill, and was going to see the Druids for something to make himself better, he didn't really know what had made him stand up. It was a pull, a pull from within the Earth it seemed. 'Fate.' Or whatever the Druids had said when he had found the two Elders, who beckoned him to sit beside the fire with them. Elyan had found himself describing everything to them. From his childhood, to the Druid boy whom he had been possessed by, to hearing Merlins voice in his head. By the end he had found himself sobbing. He had never told the full story. But then, he had never felt so confused. Elyan remembered he had finished the story with a whispered: "Am I going insane?"