𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗰𝗲𝗿𝘆 ─
❝at the same time, i
wanna hug you, i
wanna wrap my hands
around your neck, ❞
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in which, merlyn, a young sorceress from the small, poor town ealdor moves to a magic hating kingdom to protect her...
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ─the castle,
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❝ no young woman, no matter how great can know her destiny. she can not glimpse her part in the great story that is about to unfold. like everyone, she must live and learn, and so it must be for the young warlock arriving at the gates of camelot. a girl that will, in time, mother the legend. her name, merlyn ❞
Merlyn couldn't quite believe what she was seeing, her mouth agape and her eyes alight with childish wonder as she explored the citadel. Her burnt umber hair was intricately braided and fell low to her waist, the tacky dress she wore fluttered in the cool breeze that hung around the villages. Keeping a tight hold on the bag that contained all of her belongings on her back, Merlyn wouldn't allow herself to blink, in fear that she'd miss something wonderful.
The citadel was bustling with activity, the ground was covered with a generous layer of dull, golden hay and hundreds of wooden houses and creations lay atop of it. It wasn't only the commoners who thrived in the lower towns like Merlyn had expected, the knights of Camelot weaved in and out of the citizens with their Pendragon red cloaks flowing behind them and leaving a spark of joy and pride wherever they passed.
The girl abruptly came to a stop and just turned slowly on the spot, taking in the beautiful architecture that was the castle of Camelot. The stone-work was stunningly created, completely symmetrical and utterly breathtaking to each and every person who'd laid eyes on it, Merlyn was completely awestruck.
A pair of guards on a balcony began to play the ceremonial trumpets, it was enough to shock the commoners, and they all scurried as one large crowd to the centre of the city. Merlyn rushed to follow the murmuring and the sound of beating drums, she moved with cat-like agility, maneuvering around work spaces and squeezing past the commoners in order for a better view of the commotion.
"Let this serve as a lesson to all," the King, an older man with expensive clothing, a golden crown and a cloak stood high above the villagers, flanked by two unruly looking knights. He wore chainmail underneath his garb and permanent frown lines seemed etched into his ageing face. "This man, Thomas James Collins, is adjudged guilty of conspiring to use enchantments and magic," another pair of guards entered the square, dragging a young boy with them who refused to meet the King's eyes. He was thrown down at the chopping block with the executioner and Merlyn could've sworn she heard his heart beating rapidly in response. "And, pursuant to the laws of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death. I pride myself as a fair and just king, but for the crime of sorcery, there is but one sentence I can pass."
