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Post by Mordred on Sept 6, 2013 13:16:23 GMT -5
Mordred was relieved to see Merlin. The young sorcerer was probably the best person he could hope to have seen right now, more capable of helping him carry Calumira than Gaius while being Gaius' trusted friend, the old man having passed on a lot of knowledge to him. He would have given Merlin a smile if it were not for the circumstances. Instead, he walked as quickly as they could, this easier to do with two people to share the burden. "Bandits outside Stonedown. She was traveling with two others when they attacked. They were outnumbered ten to three; it was lucky our patrol passed by," he explained as they walked, "Some bandits died in the struggle, and the other knights are on their way with the survivors," he was glad they had managed to prevent any escaping.
He watched Merlin gathering a variety of medicines and items. Gaius wasn't around, so it was up to them to fix this. Assuming he would be left to observe while Merlin worked, it came as a surprise when he asked him for his help. He thought he did not trust him. Apparently the distrust did not extend so far as to prevent him from trying to heal someone he had helped rescue. That made sense. It was good to know Merlin was not completely against his every action. Slowly stepping closer, he carefully peeled back the ripped clothing to look at the long gash across Calumira's back. It was a nasty wound. While it did not look life-threatening, deep cuts like this could bleed for a long time, and blows to the spine were dangerous as paralysis was a risk. There was no way to test for that for certain except to see if Calumira's legs still worked when she woke up.
He did not touch the wound, but looked carefully enough to try and assess damage. It did not appear to have hit the spine, which was a good sign. The druids were a peaceful people and so had interest in helping others in need of healing, although battle wounds were not so common, again due to being peaceful. The cut was neater than those more commonly dealt with by the druids, the cuts from falls or accidents. "I think her spine's all right. The main risks are loss of blood and infection," he told Merlin. He would be able to close this wound with magic, but he doubted it would bode well if Calumira woke up with her wounds miraculously disappeared, and infection was still a risk even with magic unless the wound was properly cleaned.
Taking a cloth, he soaked it in water before making sure no loose thread from her slashed clothing had made its way into the wound. He dabbed at it gently to remove any traces of mud and blood, pressing down hard to try and stem the bleeding a little. Cleaner wounds tended to get infected less often, but it was hard to clean wounds of all dirt. Dabbing the cut dry, he smeared a gloopy paste over the wound. "That won't help her heal, but it will block any dirt from getting into the wound and causing infection," he informed Merlin. His eyes scanned the herbs and medicines. Some were familiar, others completely alien to him. "I don't recognise some of these herbs... will any of these reduce bleeding?" this was his primary concern now he had dealt with infection as best as he could. The wound would have to be bandaged, but something to stop the bleeding at least while they worked out how to help the skin repair itself would be much needed. "Oh, and it's good to be seeing you again, Merlin. Where have you been lately? Arthur tells me you spend half your life in the tavern, but I don't believe that's true," he tried to make more casual conversation while they worked. In truth, he had been worried Merlin may have been avoiding him, and he suspected that at least some of those tavern visits were covering up something to do with his magic. |
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Post by Mordred on Sept 4, 2013 12:05:05 GMT -5
Mordred had been riding as part of a Camelot patrol when he heard the clash of steel. Up until that point, the patrol had been uneventful, finding no trace of anyone unwanted hiding in this part of the kingdom. This changed when the three travelers and ten bandits came into view. The travelers did not stand a chance. None of them looked strong or in any way able to handle themselves in a fight, and it was clear the bandits were taking advantage of that and their greater numbers to take as much as they could from them. The knights wordlessly urged their horses to go faster, the four of them drawing their swords and lining up with the bandits. At first, they tried fighting on horseback, but the fight was too chaotic and the people too close together for this to be very effective. Mordred dismounted with the rest and began working his way to the travelers so he might protect them.
One of them, a woman, appeared to be a target for the bandits. Mordred did not want to think why. He ran over to her, finding to his dismay that one was already upon her, leaving a thankfully not fatal gash across her back. It was long and deep by the look of it, and would need urgent medical attention if she did not want to bleed to death. Furious now, he barred a clumsy blow from another bandit before stabbing the culprit in the back before he could do anything worse to Calumira. Loathing filled the young man's eyes. His heart grew cold as he watched the man die, not feeling guilty for taking his life. He turned, ready to end another life.
That was when Calumira tripped. Whirling back round, he lunged forward to catch her, but was too late. He winced in sympathy as she took a nasty blow to her head, knocking her unconscious. There was no time to check her condition; other bandits were upon him. With a shout, he blocked a couple of attacks, darted to one side, and disarmed one his a heavy blow to the wrist. The man snarled and made a grab for Calumira, but Mordred drove his sword into his armpit. He collapsed as the blade reached his lungs and heart. With five dead at his hand and those of the other knights, the remaining five bandits exchanged fearful looks and backed away from the knights. They would be pursued and most likely killed if they tried to run, and didn't fancy their chances against the knights, so instead dropped their weapons and yielded.
"She's injured. She needs treatment," Mordred waved a hand down at Calumira by his feet, speaking to the other knights. One was tying the hands of the bandits together with lengths of rope, one was calming the horses, the other calming the two conscious travelers. The knight by the horses nodded to him.
"She can't be treated here. Take her back to Camelot, to Gaius. He had the supplies to heal just about any wound. Go now, as fast as you can. We'll take these bandits back for Arthur to decide their sentence," the knight told Mordred. He crouched down and gently moved the girl's limp body, lifting her up as carefully as he could. He had no idea about the extend of her injuries and did not want to hurt her. With a sigh, he lifted her onto his horse, tying her into the saddle before climbing up himself. Kicking his heels, he rode slowly at first. It was a worry of his that the already wounded woman would fall, but she seemed to be secure so he gradually increased his speed.
He made it to Camelot in good time. Horse slowing down from a gallop, the hooves clattered to a stop on the stone cobbles before the castle entrance. It was easier to take Calumira down from the horse than it was to lift her up. Mordred wiped the sweat his black curls were clinging to from his forehead, eyes darting around for any sign of someone he knew. It would be difficult and could cause harm to try carrying Calumira all the way to Gaius. Some help would be nice. None the less, getting her help was more important, so he began the slow walk to the physician's office, weight down by the woman over his shoulder. All the while he searched for a friendly face to help him. |
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Post by Mordred on Aug 31, 2013 4:21:04 GMT -5
I'd like to do a thread, too! Mordred as a child could have met her through the druids, or perhaps as an adult could just meet her randomly, but they'd both be hiding their magic at that point. Could be fun if he and Merlin both met her and all three were hiding their magic xD
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Post by Mordred on Aug 15, 2013 7:25:02 GMT -5
Mordred didn't want to make Morgana upset. He could see that he had, and wanted to change that. He realised he wasn't being as sympathetic to his friend as he should, but he also didn't want her to hate Merlin, as much as he himself might hold a dislike to the young warlock. Morgana would not let it go if he encouraged her to hate Merlin. Hate could be a dangerous thing, especially when the person was afraid or angry as Morgana was. He would have to be careful and more gentle so he did not hurt his friend, and so he did not cause her any harm in the long term.
"I know you did nothing to hurt anyone you loved, you would never do that. But Merlin is very suspicious of people. He was wrong to blame you, a friend," he insisted. He admired her bravery for plotting with Morgause, although he had his doubts about how good a person her sister was. Like a lot of druids, he thought times would be better once Uther's reign had ended, and had great hopes for Arthur. Unlike many druids, he lacked patience to simply wait for Uther to die naturally. There was no chance he would try to risk murdering the king himself, but he did wish someone would do it. Morgana actually seemed capable, so long as Merlin didn't get in the way.
He looked thoughtful for a moment. "What are you going to do now? Try again?" he asked her. [/color][/blockquote] |
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Post by Mordred on Jul 29, 2013 14:26:51 GMT -5
Mordred would have smiled upon hearing Merlin had told her she was not evil for possessing magic had Morgana not been in such a state. Of course Emrys of all people would understand that. It was good to hear that he was not so far gone he was rejecting all magic users; Mordred had suspected that he may have been influenced so much by Uther that he had begun to reject magic itself. Again he felt the urge to tell her Merlin's secret, but again he resisted. That was for none but Merlin to reveal. Yet if he had been so friendly towards Morgana before and had comforted her when she had turned out to be a magic user, the people whom above all she was brought up to hate, why would he turn on her? Their relationship may be far from happy, but Mordred could not attribute outright murder to the clumsy young warlock.
The anger Morgana displayed tore at Mordred's heart. She had indeed changed. There was still some of the loving, forgiving and trusting woman he knew, but something new was stirring. Fear and anger were turning her once warm heart cold. So many before her had felt the pressure of hiding their magic while those they loved plotted against their own kind, and that was what had driven most evil sorcerers to harm people in the first place. Fear. Desperation. Prejudice, lies, and the merciless king. He had seen the story play out time and time again, and he was not going to let it happen to the kindest woman he had ever known.
"Merlin's right about magic. It doesn't make you evil. It's not magic, it's the people who use it. People like Uther can drive magic users into desperate situations where they're forced to do bad things. Some people can resist and use magic for good... some can't," he
looked at her carefully, hoping she was resisting any urge to do evil things with her talents.
"Merlin always has been very protective of Arthur. If you were the only one awake, maybe he thought you'd sent everyone to sleep to try and hurt him, but I wouldn't think he'd try to kill you. Unless he's changed a lot, I would have thought he would just try and stop the spell or knock you out, nothing permanent" he frowned. Emrys was a strange person with confusing motives. The man was either very wise and knew something they did not, or was insane. |
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Post by Mordred on Jul 23, 2013 5:28:42 GMT -5
Mordred was pleased to hear that Arthur spoke highly of him. The king treated all hid men well and as equals, but it was good to know that this wasn't just for show and was genuine. He got along well with Arthur and spoke highly of him in return, always prepared to defend him should someone question his suitability as king. Hope was an important thing to have, and with Arthur as king there was plenty of that around. He was far more just and fair than Uther had been, and many even hoped he would change his mind about magic some day. Mordred did not want to get his hopes up for something like that, but at least the kingdom was safe and the majority of its people were cared for.
Mordred was surprised to hear that Gwen saw Arthur's heart in him. He had never really thought about that, but it was an honour to hear such a compliment. He grinned. "Thank you," he told the queen, "Arthur's a great teacher. He knows how to bring out the best in people, be that through teasing, stern words or a more gentle approach. I swear he could even make a knight of Merlin," he said. There had been a great improvement in his combat abilities thanks to Arthur, who would slowly fight harder against him in sparring matches in order to keep stretching him. He had seen him treat others in very different ways, some making fun of until they improved, others he praised and encouraged. Always he would congratulate his knights if they did well, and was on friendly terms with most of them. If he was mean to someone, it would either be jokingly or to try and make them improve.
"And what of you? Being queen must be very different to your life before. How have you adapted?" he asked, knowing it couldn't be easy to have everyone expecting you to be some regal and noble figure all the time without a break. |
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Post by Mordred on Jul 20, 2013 11:29:12 GMT -5
Mordred's eyes widened. A flash of anger ran through him, threatening to attack some nearby inanimate object with magic, but he controlled himself by clenching his jaw and fists. Merlin had tried to murder her? Emrys, of all people. The man had a grudge against the young boy for some unknown reason, but he and Morgana were supposed to be friends. Was the greatest sorcerer to ever live all that good after all? The druids predicted he was to be highly skilled at magic, and some knew his destiny better than others, but perhaps he was not destined to be a good guy after all. That did not seem to fit, however, as he was spoken of highly with respect rather than fear, and he would help people without taking any credit. That was not the sort of thing an evil man did, plus he was dedicated to Arthur, someone whom Mordred trusted to be a fair king some day as he had saved his life before despite him being a druid and sentenced to death for it.
So perhaps it was not Emrys, but rather Morgana who was the problem. She had she had changed, and he might not like the change. Emrys may have only been trying to protect the kingdom. He had heard unsavoury things about Morgause. She would be a bad influence, so for all he knew Morgana could have posed a threat. This simple news was something he would think over too much in the future, but for now he still trusted Morgana more than anyone else. He trusted her to tell him the truth, if only a select part of the truth. He had not been there, after all, so he could never tell for sure what had happened.
"Morgana, why did he do that? Did Merlin find out about your secret? He always seemed to nice to hurt anyone directly," he said, remembering how Emrys had failed to kill him directly in the past; he had turned up to save him from the guards when escaping Camelot, and he had tripped him but never directly made an attempt on his life. He considered telling her the truth about Merlin, but something stopped him. It didn't feel right. Revealing a person's magic to someone, even another magic user, was a huge betrayal to them. Although Emrys clearly didn't hold Mordred in high regard, he felt strongly by instinct that it would be wrong to expose him. |
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Post by Mordred on Jul 13, 2013 13:36:00 GMT -5
Few people of royalty would be seen looking after the common people, regardless of the condition of those people or how much the royal liked them. Mordred felt lucky to have Gwen as a queen. Some of the alternatives he had seen on their way to Camelot on the request of Uther had been... well, very different. Completely disregarding what her position dictated she should do in order to come to the aid of someone who really needed it was such a Gwen thing to do. "That's very kind of you. I hope your friend gets better soon," Mordred expressed his sympathy for the old lady.
Now she was asking after him. The Disir had very near killed him, and in fact he had been certain he was going to die. The pain had been unlike any other he had experienced; he felt it sharply enough, but somehow it felt as though it was not meant for him. He had heard vague whispers, too. It was as though death had been near but his condition had been frozen in time, as though he was on probation to see whether he deserved to die or not. It also seemed to him that his condition had not been his punishment, but someone else's. He had been in a confused frame of mind, however, and assumed it was probably the magical nature of the wound accompanied by his delirious mind, sluggish with pain, that had made up those things. The strangely fast recovery, however, was still unexplained.
"I'm feeling a lot better, thank you. The wound still throbs every now and then, and it can make me feel tired sometimes, but at least I'm alive. I don't know what we'd do without Gaius," he smiled. The physician was always so friendly and welcoming. The lives that man had saved were countless. It was touching to know that Arthur had been worried out him, too, as he held the king in such high regard. Knowing he could trust him and knowing he could call him a friend shot feelings of warm happiness through him, finding sheer joy in the fact that King Arthur himself valued his life and would go so far to try and save him. True friendship was hard to come by when you lived a life travelling with different people every month. "It's strange how quick my recovery was. I thought I was on death's door. It should have taken weeks to recover, yet I managed it in a day. Whatever it was Arthur did when he visited the Disir, it worked," [/color][/blockquote] |
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Post by Mordred on Jul 10, 2013 11:47:32 GMT -5
Mordred turned around sharply at the sound of his name, the recent addition of 'sir' still exciting to hear. He gave a broad smile to see Guinevère. The queen was exceptionally kind, unlike many royal snobs he had come across before. Most likely it stemmed from her background, but she genuinely cared about the people of Camelot, a quality so many nobles lacked. He looked behind her at the startled chickens running unpredictably about while another knight struggled to get the situation under control, and gave a short, soft laugh. He just about recognized the other man, and knew that he would be teased about this incident for days.
"I'd be happy to accompany you," he replied to her request. Her company made him feel at ease somehow, relaxed and happy. It was her optimism, bubbliness and all-round lovely personality that seemed to radiate out and spread to other people. Gwen was the sort of person who was very difficult to dislike, whatever faults you managed to see. Mordred was trying to avoid people such as those he spent his time around before, the thieves and bandits, who were always troubled and full of contagious hate. They had driven him to do things he hated himself for, and with worrying ease. It was as if he had been given a second chance, finding himself here on the other side, the good side. "What's in the basket?" he asked curiously. Whatever it was, it smelled delicious. |
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Post by Mordred on Jul 9, 2013 6:40:38 GMT -5
Camelot's newest knight wondered happily through the market, exploring the city. He had been here a few times before, but for once he was free to look around as opposed to being forced to hide or flee. These buildings and stalls had once been looked upon by fear, but now they were welcoming. The people offered him respect. How time could change things. Mordred was no longer something to be hunted, although no doubt that would change if anyone realized he was a druid and therefore had magic. It was good to feel accepted and to not be scared after so long.
He grinned at a shopkeeper, tossing the old man a coin and in return received a large apple which he bit into as he slowly walked along the street. Life was good. He had no doubt that this was what he was meant to be doing; working with a group of the best people he had ever met to protect the kingdom and help Arthur to rule. Already he could call many of the other knights his friends. Merlin was the only one here who seemed to have a problem with him, something he could not fully understand but was too happy at the present moment to be bothered by.
Mordred's red cloak billowed out as he turned a corner into a breeze, glad to feel the cool air. It was a warm day, and the chain mail he wore was not helping with that. He could probably take it off, since he had only been wearing it for training earlier, but he liked wearing it. The novelty of being a knight had yet to wear off, so for now he was taking every opportunity to explore everything a knight could do; patrols, hunting, and even just wearing the uniform. Right now there was nothing he needed to do, so he was simply finding his way around the city, making sure the citizens were all right and trying to learn his way around better. He had gotten lost a few days ago, an embarrassing incident he did not want repeated. As such, he was paying close attention to where he was walking and the names of the streets.
Setting: The streets of Camelot
Time of day: Midday
Time in series: Some time in series 5 |
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Post by Mordred on Jun 25, 2013 16:40:09 GMT -5
Mordred noticed that Morgana had changed too since they had last met. In the past, she would have been much more energetic, always ready to take action, stand up for people, or just talk. Now she seemed to have been changed by something, her old happiness which had brought her so much energy replaced by something else. But she was still Morgana. People changed, it was normal. The boy still felt a deep connection with the woman and she could not have changed that much, could she?
A frown crossed his face when she told him Merlin had betrayed her, his eyes darkening. Emrys. Why must he keep doing this? They were on the same side, he must know what it felt like having magic under Uther's rule! Mordred knew without a doubt that Emrys was good from the druid prophesies regarding him. What he could not understand then was why a good person destined to be the greatest sorcerer who ever lived could possibly behave like this to other magic users when they needed his help. The last time they had met, he had even tried to kill him by tripping him up and leaving him to the guards, something he could not forget. The only explanation that made any sense would be if he and Morgana were bad, but he knew Morgana was not and he was fairly certain he had done no wrong.
"Merlin? How could Merlin have done this to you? He was supposed to be our friend!" he spoke aloud this time in his quiet voice now that the other druids had moved further away to give them some space. There was a tone of anger and hurt in his voice, feeling betrayed again. He could not tell Morgana about the druid prophesies, but they accounted for some of the hurt he felt. Emrys was the one person he thought he could trust, and just as he had been thinking that perhaps he might not be so bad after all, this happened. |
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Post by Mordred on Jun 23, 2013 5:25:49 GMT -5
Another great job! Thank you so much! I'm going to find a site that lets you make an image change every time its refreshed because I love both siggies and avatars  |
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Post by Mordred on Jun 21, 2013 12:32:33 GMT -5
Mordred was feeling fantastic. At long last, he felt welcomed and appreciated, and did not have to live in fear of being discovered! He had taken off his heavy chain mail, but was still wearing the rest of a Camelot knight's attire; maroon shirt usually worn underneath the chain mail, flexible trousers, smart boots, even the long red cape with the Pendragon insignia. He had been happily swishing this cloak around, imagining the adventures he would have as a protector of Camelot, when he heard the knock as the door to his chambers. Curious as to who it could be and in a very good mood indeed, he hastily removed his cape, draped it over a chair and rushed to open the door.
"Merlin!" he beamed, somewhat surprised and a little honoured the warlock would visit him. Everyone else in the castle might just think him a servant of no importance or even a good friend, but no-one else Mordred knew of aside from Gaius would recognise him as the greatest sorcerer who ever lived. "Come on in, take a seat if you want! What brings you here?" he asked, gesturing to one of the few seats arranged around his small table should Merlin want to sit down. The last few times he had met this man had not exactly been in the happiest of circumstances as he had captured him and Arthur, but since then Mordred had stabbed Morgana and hoped that would prove to Merlin there was no need to suspect him. The young knight looked at Merlin, or Emrys, with some admiration, wanting their friendship to grow. There was some dislike and distrust for Merlin, of course, from his actions in trying to harm him in the past, but he hoped they could move on. |
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Post by Mordred on Jun 21, 2013 11:45:30 GMT -5
Wow, I love them, Arthur! Thank you so much, you've done a really good job ^_^ |
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Post by Mordred on Jun 20, 2013 14:43:50 GMT -5
Talent! *runs towards the graphic making ability* I would like a siggy please! Text colour being my normal posting colour (C7E9BC). I'd like it to be a GIF if that's OK. I don't have a preference for scenes, but preferably one of happy adult Mordred (or adult Mordred using magic if you can't find a decent shot of him looking happy), and one of serious adult Mordred, and also one of child Mordred being all creepy. I'd like the text to say 'I shall never forgive this, Emrys, and I shall never forget', and also the words 'Arthur's Bane' there somewhere too. Thankyouthankyouthankyou! *hugs* |
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Post by Mordred on Jun 20, 2013 11:02:29 GMT -5
Hey, Freya, I'd love to RP with you at some point, since Freya and Mordred were both druids so who knows, they might have met! |
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Post by Mordred on Jun 17, 2013 17:07:56 GMT -5
Sounds good to me! Merlin and Mordred have such an interesting relationship, I think it'd be great to explore their friendship/enemyness in more depth than the series did  |
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Post by Mordred on Jun 17, 2013 11:08:30 GMT -5
What the title says. I'd like to get RPing more, so feel free to ask to RP with Mordred! Hopefully as activity grows they'll be more chances to RP with people, and I'm keen to get threads going ASAP. |
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Post by Mordred on Jun 12, 2013 11:30:22 GMT -5
The fire was seen by the druids and a couple left to investigate. People of magic were not safe even living harmlessly as they were, so they had to be constantly wary of any other people who might be around them. Mordred noticed the druids leaving, but did not even look away from their own fire as they left. They would deal with the problem, so he had nothing to worry about. After a short while, however, they returned, bringing with them a third person. This was unusual. Most of the time, people nearby were watched carefully to ensure they meant no harm, then either left to carry on with their business, or were forcefully moved to a safe distance from the druid camp. Occasionally the sick or wounded were brought back to heal, but never a perfectly healthy person.
Mordred's serious face looked up from the fire to see the woman. A warm smile spread across his face as he recognised her and she spoke his name. "Morgana!" he exclaimed in delight, then looked at the two druids. "I know her. She is a friend," he told them, making them release her at once and step away. They kept an eye on her, but allowed the two a chance to talk. Mordred looked happier than he had done in a long time, his smiles being rare. His blue eyes shone with glee, grin persisting. He had missed Morgana dearly, and it was a good feeling to see her again at last.
After all this time had passed, much must have happened in Camelot. He had heard no news from the place, losing contact to stay safe. The last time he had seen her, it had been when he and Alvarr had plotted to use her in the stealing of the Crystal of Neahtid. The last person from Camelot he had seen was Merlin. Emrys often occupied his thoughts, being a great mystery to him. Why would he have something against a quiet young druid boy? He longed for a friendship with the warlock, wishing the man he looked up to and respected would change and accept him. It was almost as if he agreed with Uther's stance on magic. That would all change some day, Mordred hoped. He often found himself dreaming of a day when Arthur would rule as a kind and just King, he and Merlin together as powerful sorcerers protecting their King and helping Camelot. He knew that together he and Emrys could accomplish such great things, so why would he reject all that?
Here Morgana was, out of the blue. She could no doubt answer some of his questions, but first and foremost he was puzzled as to why she was so far from Camelot. Using his magic, he reached out with his mind and found hers, familiar and warm. Something had changed there, something darker, but it was still Morgana. "Why are you so far from Camelot? Is something wrong?" he asked through telepathy, concern clear in his voice. He cared deeply about Morgana, feeling closer to her than many of the other people he knew. He spoke through telepathy partly because he often felt uncomfortable with other people hearing his conversations, and partly because it was just his nature. He did not speak aloud very often, especially not to people he did not know, to the extent that many people when first meeting him thought he was mute. |
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Post by Mordred on Jun 11, 2013 14:07:11 GMT -5
Setting: Between series 2 and 3, when Morgana spends a year away from Camelot
Location: Druid camp in the forest just outside Camelot
Time: Dusk
Tags: Morgana Pendragon
A young druid boy crouched beside a fire, prodding it with a stick to coax the flames to cook a stew for himself and the other druids around him. He was glad to be among them after having spent so long among bandits. These were his people, peaceful and kind. Best of all, they encouraged his magic rather than feared or otherwise disapproved of it. Since he had last entered Camelot, he had grown somewhat, his voice starting to deepen as it prepared to break. His powers had strengthened, too, rivaling even the adult druids. Most of them could not cast spells without uttering a single word as he could, and knowing this brought him pride.
The boy, Mordred, quickly glanced around him to make sure there was someone close by to watch the fire. Swiftly, he darted into the small canvas shelter in which he slept and kept his few possessions, returning to the fireside with an emerald green cloak. He had had this cloak for years, and it was starting to be too short for him, but he did not mind. The material was drawn tightly around him against the cooling air of the gathering night. The stew was by now starting to boil, so he took a step back and looked around him. The shadows deepening and creeping beneath the trees used to frighten him. Before he had nightmares about what lurked in the forest, imagination twisting the shadow of a moving leaf into a great roaring beast ready to stalk and devour him while he slept.
How times had changed. His time with bandits had taught him not to show fear, and the month since he had spent reunited with the druids had taught him not to feel fear either. Of course, it was fine to be scared sometimes, and he was still scared of some dangers. The darkness was no longer among those dangers. He knew he was strong. The druids around him would protect him, being not just his teachers but his carers too. Even if they were not around, he was able to knock back men with a thought. This was enough to defend himself, he knew, and so he had less to fear from the darkness. While the darkness and what it might hide was something which had started to lose its scariness, other new aspects were showing themselves as dangers to not take lightly. These strong powers might protect him, but they would also get him killed if any of Uther's knights saw, as he was well aware. There was also something to be feared from the powers themselves; protecting himself was one thing, but he could really hurt people. As a druid, he had no desire to cause anyone any harm, and so it made him afraid of himself when he saw that despite his young age he was already so strong. |
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