Thaumaturgy

Prologue

Camelot had once been a haven for everyone, ruled by the handsome young and benevolent king and his kind beautiful queen, Ygraine but following her death at the hand of childbirth, Uther had lost his youthful glimour and become bitter, and he hid the birthmark spelling 'Ygraine' on his arm from his own eyes. He had sunk into madness quickly, like quicksand, blaming all users of magics for the death of his soulmate and a terrible purge had followed, death rolling over anyone suspected of magic like a wave. Only the resplendent golden prince, Arthur, could temper the king's wraith. Tales emerged from the citadel of Uther's kind heart returning in the presence of his bouncing baby boy only. But then, tradgedy struck.

The story of The Pendragon Baby was very publically known when it happened. In the middle of the night, Arthur Pendragon., 10-month-old son of King Uther Pendragon and his wife, Queen Ygraine Pendragon, was abducted from the crib in the upper floor of his home in Camelot. Suspended in glittering writing over the now-empty bassinet hung the words 'Finio Bellum', soon translated by the great minds of Camelot to mean 'End the War' in the laguage of magic. It was clear - Magicians has taken the kings son for randsom. There was a catastrophic upraor, with all of the city coming out to look for him, but he could not be found. For each day that past Uther grew more tyrannic and enraged, slaughting anyone who had ever even associated with a magic user in any way, spreading fear throughout his kingdom, and yet, his son was not forthcoming. People began to leave his city and he retreated into his castle, furios and mad, swearing on his life he would destroy all magic and get his son back.

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The horsemen rode their horses hard. Hooves pounded the ground near where the small trembling family of three stood, escaping Camelot's mad king after the death of the children's mother. The trio huddled in a verdant bush, barely breathing in the silence of the dark night as the king's riders passed them astride their black horses.

The smith famliy: Tom, and his children Gwen who was 3 and Elyan who was a baby, had packed up their forge and abandoned Camelot as Uther's reign became incorrigable and they could no longer tolerate the constant searches by the King's Dark Knights on their premesis and the accusations of conspiracy and treason, so they fled in the night to start a new life elsewhere. Now the frightened family trudded through the forest to the broders of Mercia, hiding in bushes and trees at every horse that passed, knowing that the search for the kidnapped prince was no longer anything but an escuse for death. It was well known throughout the five kingdoms that Uther belived his son dead and that his riders were nothing more than agents of death.

The second night was falling as Tom trudged, Elyan strapped to his backin a slingn and Gwen clasing his hand and stagering next to him, her tiny body exhasted, when they heard a faint crying in the distant dark. An animal, perhaps?

"Daddy?" Gwen asked looking at him with worried eyes shimmering in concern.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm sure it's nothing. I'll go see." Tom took Elyan from his back and gently handed im to Gwen.

"Stay here" he said with a soft reassuring smile. He treaded carefully through the trees getting closer to the sound. there was no sign of anyone, but when he came up a clearing with a small wriggling bundle of fabric in the middle. He apprached cautiosly, weary of bandits and other kinds of ambush attack, but nothing happened. He knelt beside the bundle and peeled back a sheaf, to reveal a small baby, weeping slightly. He was shocked at the blond hair baby, esconced tightly in the snug tree roots of the towering oak.

"Hello little one. What are you doing out here" Tom murmurdered to the child gently picking it up in his arm. He looked around but still couldn't see anyone. He couldn't leave the child here, it would freeze or starve. But he couldn't carry another child. Could he?

"Daddy?" Gwens voice cam from behind him and he turned to see her gripping Elyan slightly, he was sleeping on her shoulder.

"Is that a baby?" She queried. Tom nodded.

"We can't leave him here!" she cried with anguish in her face. Tom's mind had been made up for him.

"Of ourse not sweetheart. Let's find somehwere to camp."

"Is it a boy or a girl?" Gwen asked, curiosly, looking at the little blonde tuft of hair on his head.

"He's a little boy, just like Elyan" Tom said with a smile at his precocious daughter.

"What's his name?" She asked.

"I don't know, he doesn't seem to have one. What would you like to call him?" Gween thought for a moment, and then said:

"Dirk." She said.

"Like the knife you make! it's only little and he's only little" She looked at her dad wit pleading eyes, he could never say no to her.

"Alright" he said. "We'll call him Dirk."