Myrddin

Myrddin's magic was weak and he was well aware of the fact. Simple tricks and deceptions were enough to hide this fact from all but himself. Still, the longing to be able to perform the spellwork others so easily could followed his every step, even those of his dreams. For this must surely be a dream. An almost ghostly figure stood before him, silent, yet promising the wish he held close to his heart with nothing but the look in her eyes.

"Could you really do that? Make my magic stronger?" he asked, his voice echoing in a way that almost only ever happened within the depths of one's mind.

"Is that truly what you desire?" the figure spoke as their voice almost seemed to drift around Myrddin, drawing him closer.

"I do. I want to be strong in magic; strong enough to be feared and revered." he spoke, the excitement palpable in his voice. She only smiled at him and then everything gained a bit of clarity as he stood there blinking in a confused state.

Why was he in a cave? Oh, right. He was run out of his last clan. Though necromancy was a near-forbidden art, that wasn't what his magic did, well not that many cared to ask or find out. It was just; if the death was recent enough, he could bring them back. It wasn't something he tried for, nor was it something he wished he had, but he knew he was a good mage when it came to healing. He just had to make sure his next clan never saw him perform an 'act of necromancy' this time. With that on his mind, he set out to find someplace he wasn't known; maybe then he could have an easier go of things.




((Credit goes to Pickpocket0013))