Destiny Begins: The Forgotten Tale: Book One

Dragons Call

"Are you absolutely certain I can't simply remain here? Will assured me he wouldn't breathe a word to anyone," I inquired, watching as my mother meticulously ensured I had packed everything. Frankly, why she insists on such thoroughness when there's not much to gather eludes me.

"Merlin, darling. While Will may have promised silence, what if he inadvertently reveals something? You know how careless he can be with secrets when he's upset. Consider the next time you face bullying or are taunted as weak. In a fit of rage, Will might inadvertently disclose your true strength. I'm sorry, but we can't take that chance. You're headed to Camelot. Your uncle Gaius will be there to greet you. Now, don this," she insisted, tucking my long black locks beneath a small brown cap. Given that I'd be journeying to Camelot alone, my mother suggested I disguise myself as a young lad to lessen the risk of attracting unwanted attention from passing bandits.

While it might appear trivial to certain nobility, as peasants, we lack the protective mantle of the crown enjoyed by them. It's unfortunately commonplace for a solitary young woman to mysteriously vanish from the roads. Thus, as a precautionary measure, whenever a girl needs to venture beyond the village unaccompanied, she adopts male attire. It's a lamentable necessity, yet if it ensures my safety, then so be it.

"Why Camelot, though? It's renowned as the bastion against magic. They execute individuals like me there."

"Because, my dear, no one would suspect the presence of a sorceress amidst an anti-magic stronghold. You'll blend seamlessly into the surroundings. Now, cease your inquiries. A lengthy journey awaits you. Off you go," she declared, planting a kiss on my forehead before ushering me away, disappearing back into our humble abode, doubtless to concoct herbal remedies for a villager in need.

With a sigh, I turned towards the path ahead, slinging my bag over my shoulder as I embarked on the road to Camelot.

                                                                                    ---

"Let this serve as a cautionary tale to all. Magic and its practitioners find no harbor within Camelot," I trembled with apprehension as the king, with a solemn gesture, commanded the executioner to sever the sorcerer's head. Drawing in a deep breath, I averted my gaze from the platform where the unfortunate youth met his fate. Just as I began to retreat, a sudden stillness gripped the crowd, and I, along with them, gasped in astonishment. A colossal whirlwind materialized at the center, unveiling a diminutive old woman cloaked in black, her eyes ablaze with fury fixed upon the king.

"How dare you slay my son. Remember this, Uther Pendragon, your own son shall meet his end by my hand. A life for a life," she cackled menacingly, vanishing in another whirlwind as guards closed in on her. Silently, I observed as the king, his countenance darkened, withdrew from the balcony into the recesses of the castle. With a heavy heart, I made my way towards the physician's chamber, my gaze lingering sadly on where the boy's remains were being carried away. How many more souls must be sacrificed before Uther ceases this fruitless crusade against magic?

Knocking gently on the door and cautiously pushing it ajar, I peered into my uncle's quarters. A smile crossed my lips upon seeing him perusing a tome on the upper level, and I called out to him.

"Uncle?" I recoiled in fear as he turned towards my voice, stumbling backward through the now shattered railing. My eyes flashed with gold, time slowing as I swiftly maneuvered his bed beneath him just before he made impact. A sigh of relief escaped me as he sprang to his feet, turning to meet my gaze.