~Morgaine~

A lone maiden fingers something that resembles a head from a rag-doll. Her hood is pulled up to cover her features, but ebony lacquered hair flows in abundance from beneath the hood as she seems to skip to an unheard beat. Her body language tells the euphoria she is feeling at the moment, but none would know the reasons why.

The forest she walks in is as silent as the words that escape from a corpse, but much less sinister. She sees her prey of the moment, the dark witch. Casting her spells over the reflection of the full moon. Cerridwen’s eyes are glazed over as she is given a taste of what could be or might never be. The maiden deliberately breaks a twig to break the concentration of the dark witch before she speaks.

”Daughter of the darkness, beloved sister of mine,” the maiden coos mockingly. “Forget not your own fate. Mother has seen the length of your life-string as well as those you are entangled with in this web, if you continue your way.”

Cerridwen gasps audibly as the maiden turns crone before her eyes. Almost awed before such ancient powers, she brings herself up to show courage against the goddess. Cerridwen turns hard eyes towards the crone, but says nothing as she watches her length of the string displayed by the crone. It was only a warning and one Cerridwen couldn’t afford not to take some heed. Cerridwen clenches her fists and closes her eyes to ask a question before this image of the Morrigan disappears. She opens her eyes with a question on the tip of her tongue, but the crone has gone and left only a cruel laughter upon the winds that gently caresses Cerridwen’s black hair.

The dark witch screams with frustration. It echoes through the rest of the forest causing a slight disturbance. One even the Merlin can feel among Arthur’s men away from Valerin’s castle. Where they go, not even Morgaine knows nor Gwynn ap Nudd…