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Camelot
Merlin caught the briefest glimpse of a lovely face, framed
by long blonde hair, and immediately curled his outstretched
hand into a fist, drawing his magic back into himself.
He looked about him, guiltily.
Arthur’s knights were still frantically searching for
their Lord.
“Over there,” he shouted, pointing to a dense stand
of trees. “I—er—I think I saw something, over
there...”
He needed time—and he needed to be alone—to work
out why, instead of Arthur, his spell had almost brought a beautiful
woman back from the magical world.
...
Emyn Arnen
The whirlwind disappeared, swallowed by its own mouth.
Eowyn, released from its clutches, fell to her knees.
“Oh, melmenya!” Legolas threw himself down beside
her and gathered her into his arms.
“Is she all right?” asked Arthur, anxiously.
“I saw someone, Lassui,” Eowyn gasped. “He—he
was standing in the eye of the storm. I saw him clearly.”
“Was it a man?” asked Legolas.
“Yes,” said Eowyn. Then, “No—no, it was
a boy—a dark-haired boy, with deep, deep blue eyes and
he—he looked almost Elven, Lassui, but he was not.”
“Did you see anything more, my Lady?” asked Arthur.
“There was a tree, behind the boy, but it was black. It—no—no,
it was scorched.”
Frowning, Arthur glanced at Sir Bors.
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