So I thought this would be fun to throw up the prologue of this story just to give you a taste of what is to come. Enjoy. You will have to forgive the grammar it is still very raw.
The Birth of the Age of Magic
A letter from Myrddin Wyllt to his sister Gwendydd year 1000 A.D. the lowlands of Scotland
Translated in Modern English by the International Istitutite of Divine Languages
To my Dearest Gwendydd,
I do apologize for the belated response. I understand that you have sought news concerning me since the year of my lady, 574. I have been lost to all those who call me friend, to you…to myself . Now four years later, I have returned and do pray thee that ye may listen for a spell that I may enlighten you to the journey of which I have traversed across the physical, mental and spiritual plans.
I must set the table for this mental feast of ire, disappiontment and eventual revelation.
Last I spoke of you, I was acting as a bard to one of the many Brythonic king in the northern parts of our lands. Despite being one of the Powerless, The young king was a ruler of his own kind and a measure above the rest. The young king was vigorous in spirit and steadfast in his vision of the future. He was ruler for the Books Of Century – a Mortal, a Powerless one but a noble spirit that our kind may have spoken of in our halls and secret places should he be given the time to progress and mature. I saw the makings in him a glorius inspired leader that might have brought the Powerless among us into a new dawn of understanding.
Alas, it was not meant to be, we have suffered defeat in battle and the good king is dead. Gwendydd, long have I been toiling in an agonized mediation because of my lord’s defeat at the battle of Arfderydd. It pains me to say his name, but I do so for my own record for his name was Gwenddoleu a Cedio and he fell in battle betrayed by his youth. The young king was besieged upon by the princely brothers, Peredur and Gwigi of Efrog, coming upon him in the night after a truce was agreed upon by the princely brothers. They betrayed him, murdered him and his household before they were able to marshal any sort of defense.
To my horror, to my disbelief, while the betrayl of my lord was of the princely brothers the horrors committed upon he and and his household was not of the Powerless ones but was a Lycan from the Outworld. I clearly saw him my sister, I saw him as he fled into the night, his luicious mane a bright silver like none other of his kind I have seen before or seen since. This Lycan attacked my king, his lords and the people. They never had a chance. I can still hear my lord calling for me. The screams keep me up at night.
The princely brothers betrayed my lord, but I too am to blame for his death. I too share in the spilling of his blood as I too betrayed him my dearest Gwendydd. I betrayed him because my gift gave me warning of the plot. I knew of the princely brothers betrayal, but because The Unknown[ The Unknown - Make sure I identify this so it can be Explained later ] forbids it, I said nothing, I did nothing and oh how my inaction haunts me.
Belabored with grief for my fallen lord, I ran to the woods, I ran traveling for many days into lessor known areas of the Northern lands where I communed with Mother Nature. She listened to my plight and bestowed her infinite wisdom upon me – she counseled – find the monster who attacked thy lord and take vengeance upon him.
I thought to do just that.
At her behest, I searched for the beast. I traveled to Icy Mountains of the west, the endless forests of the Skinwalkers across the sea, the burning deserts of the south and even the blackened plains of the Outerworlds. I walked among both the Day and Night races looking and at one point found myself among the different sentients of the Divine. I conversed with angel, demon, demi-god and for a short period spoke to the Dark Ones and Dragons all in my desperate search for the Lycan who killed my lord. I began to lose hope at this time. I was alone in my misery ever wandering the world of day, night and divine, ever searching for my hidden foe. Indeed so great was my misery that my vast magical powers almost left me and my life force became weak.
It was then after almost three years of search that I happen upon a pack of Lycan near the Bran Gate[ This the Bran Gate is how people get in and out of Outworld ] on my return journey from the Outerworlds. I heard the call of the pack and my instinct all my power all my being testified unto me. That this was HIS pack. The time had come my search had not been in vain.
I attacked this pack with sword and sorcery to the extent of my powers. But I was weak and the moon was full. I was no match for them. It was there I met her as I lay at the feet of a hundreds of Lycan, it was there I happened upon the first child of Lycaon, the former king of Arcada and the very first werewolf. As you already know, Lycaon was punished by the great god Zeus when he was turned into the very first werewolf. This story has been past down by the Daytime races and worshipers of the Greek Parthenon for many a generation. I myself have told this story in our secret halls of learning. Alas, I was approached by the child of Lycaon and was shock to find that the first son of Lycaon, the one to survive the thunderbolts of Zeus was not a he but a she. The oldest living werewolf and the pack leader of the Lycans was named silver haired maiden named. Klymene
If I had not been so angry I would have notice her extraordinary beauty.
I was delivered into the hands of Klymene and her pack mates and awaited my fate. Klymene gave me a fate worst than death. It was then I realized that I was too late.
Klymene informed me of the death of Ripper, the black eyed silverhaired Lycan who killed my lord and Klymene former mate. His death came by the hands of an Elvin Executor who spoke of the story. He may have been done the very night of my lord’s betrayal.
My lords death had been avenged perhaps at the time of the transgression. It seems that my journey had been for naught. I scoured the worlds unknown and known for my enemy old only to let him pass without enacting my vengeance. I should have been relieved. It was not so. I felt only one emotion.
I once again retreated into the forest.
After four years of mediation and countless trips into the recesses of my own mind. I have come to an epiphany the new and yet daunting realization.
I failed to inform my lord because of a rule not of my own to a organization that I have sworn no loyalty and because of my own lack of courage.
I have decided to rectify that problem.
It is time for the Powerless ones – our non-magical human brethren to know of our existence and not only the ones that have the potential to be Adept, but all humans, it is time for all those who live on the Earth know of the world around them that they may be prepared. This letter to you my dearest sister is a testament to this pledge. I, Myrddin Wyllt, do solemnly swear to bring light and understanding to those who have none, to protect those without power and to guide those who need it. I, Myrddin Wyllt, to here by take upon the name of Merlin as a symbol of my transformation and do go walk among the Powerless Ones and show unto them that there are things in the dark that are sinister, tbat are terrible, that are scary, but they need not be afraid…for I am with them.
I do hereby end my Letter to my sister may we meet once again after I have changed the face of this world. Be not a intimidated, be not discouraged, be not afraid. I am with them.
Merlin of the first Morlock