Sorcery - Tumblr Posts
"Let me say what sorcery is not: it is not divine power, which comes with a thought and a blink. It must be made and worked, planned and searched out, dug up, dried, chopped and ground, cooked, spoken over, and sung."
Circe, Madeline Miller
This sounds amazing! I wish I had found this before the summer solstice though
Cloak of the Sun
A simple spell of protection and confidence
You’ll need a sunny day and very basic visualization skills. (I myself am terrible at visualization, but this spell uses external sensations to support you. It’s visualization easy mode.) Optionally, a pin or a pendant, especially one that hangs at about collarbone level, can be used as a “cloak clasp”.
Stand in direct sunlight, facing away from the Sun.
Close your eyes and feel the warmth on your back. Focus on its power. This is the source of all life on Earth. With it you can do anything.
Visualize this power as a covering garment. Mine tends to be glittering gold; yours might be red fire, or white light, or a shimmer in all the colors of a sunset. Make it your own.
Draw the cloak over your shoulders to meet in front, and over your head like a hood. Be enveloped in its power. Burn away anything that might do you harm.
If you’re using a “clasp”, put it on now. Imagine pinning the cloak to it, to keep it in place. This provides a tangible reminder of the cloak’s presence, and I find it helps to maintain it and to remake it next time.
It’s amazing how much better I feel after a day with my cloak on!
Taking two tablespoons of coconut oil infused with mugwort an hour before bed helps to practice your flying skills
Curse of the Bog Witch
Wyreh the Feeble heard the rustling sounds behind his cottage, but being a kind man, he approached not with a pitchfork but with a small loaf of bread from his cupboard. The rain had let up some but it was still bitter cold, and Wyreh took pity on whatever poor beggar he found out there.
“You’ll catch your death in this!” Wyreh called out, using his lantern to light the area between his cottage and his barn. “I’ve brought some food for you, and you’re welcome to sleep in the barn if you’d like!”
He found the intruder huddled up behind several stacked barrels. He’d expected one of the emaciated beggars he’d seen in town, or the mute orphan boy who wandered the woods at night. He was shocked to see a great big man—he could stare one of the king’s steeds in the eye, and was easily the same width!—crouched down, wearing chain mail spattered with the fluids of battle, and his helmet. He was shivering, which seemed almost amusing from a man his size. When he turned, Wyreh recognized the insignia on the helmet (which covered so much of the man’s face, he would’ve never known his identity otherwise): “Why… Lars? Son of Erros the Smithy? What are you doing out here?” Lars was somewhat of a local hero, fancied by every maiden who drew a breath and idolized by every boy pretending wielding a branch as a sword. “For god’s sake, Lars, get inside out of this rain!”
Inside, Wyreh started a small fire (when he was sure Lars wasn’t looking he traced a sigil in the air above the logs and a small flame burst forth, consuming the log) and turned to Lars, whose large soaked frame was dripping into quite a puddle. “Lars, you’re making quite a mess, my boy. Get yourself out of those clothes!” Wyreh reached toward the helmet Lars still wore. Frail old Wyreh couldn’t reach it, of course, but Lars still jerked away from the attempt. “No!” he growled. “Leave it on!” Lars stomped across the room and punched the wall, leaving a sizable dent.
“Now, boy,” Wyreh said, leaning forward on his cane, “I certainly know you didn’t come here to put holes in an old man’s home. If you’ve got need of something, speak it out like a man, but if you insist on being difficult, I’ll have you out in the streets with the beggars.”
Lars’ broad shoulders slumped and Wyreh heard him quietly sobbing. Wyreh had never seen the magnificent warrior like this! Since Lars was a young boy he’d shown no fear, no weakness. He was taller and stronger than most men before he was one. He’d slain his first orc at age twelve—beheaded a giant when he was twenty! He’d single-handedly cleared out the ogre infestation of the nearby wood, and had even slain a dragon! Last Wyreh remembered, Lars had headed out to slay the legendary bog witch. Nobody had ever confirmed the witch’s existence, but the tales told that she fed on the youth of young maidens. “Fear no longer, maidens!” Lars had declared to the congregated townsfolk before he set out, specifically addressing the young women who swooned in his presence.
“The bog (oink) witch…” sobbed the large warrior. “She did this (oink) to me…” Lars’ hands shook as he reached up and removed his helmet. He turned around, revealing what was mostly Lars’ handsome striking face, but with a few alterations: his nose was now a wide, flat turned up pig’s snout. His lantern jaw seemed to jut a little further forward than usual and two large tusks protruded up above his lips. His ears had grown up, pointy at the top but floppy at the bottom. As he sobbed, Wyreh heard a distinct snort sound—a gentle, repetitive “oink” that it seemed Lars couldn’t help but make.
Wyreh slowly hobbled forward and took a look at the large man. It was quite obviously a swine curse. “This seems to be some form of magic!” he said, playing dumb. “I’m but an old man, I can’t—“
“I know you’re (oink) a wizard!” Lars interrupted. He grabbed the man’s withered shoulders with his large hands. “When I was (oink) a boy, I saw you (oink) making lights dance, and (oink) commanding the plants in your (oink) garden to grow! And they (oink) did! I (oink) saw them!”
Wyreh shook his head. He’d sworn off magic when he’d left the Academy years ago, but as he’d gotten old he’d found that he couldn’t quite get by without it. A few times he’d gotten caught, and a simple spell had wiped their memories away. He would now have to do the same to Lars…
“If you do nothing, old man,” Lars said, leaning in, his stance becoming aggressive, “I’ll tell the townspeople that you did this! They’ll be on you by nightfall! They’ll burn your little cottage to the ground, and no amount of sorcery will save you! What then, old man?”
The few remaining teeth in Wyreh’s head chattered as Lars shook him back and forth. Lars was lauded by the townsfolk as a hero, but Wyreh had never had many kind words to say about him. As a child he was a relentless bully, and that never left him as he grew larger than everyone else. Many of the beasts Lars had slain were harmless without provocation, but Lars had stirred up the townsfolk’s mistrust with his grandstanding and wiped them all out to return to bask in glory.
“Well, you’ve got my number now, don’t you?” Wyreh said. He retrieved his fallen cane from the floor and stroked it gently with his gnarled fingers. “It seems I have no choice but to undo this enchantment on you, poor lad. First things first, out of those clothes. I cannot help you if you’re all covered up. If I’m to restore your body, I need to see your body!”
Slowly Lars undressed, removed his armor piece by piece. When he stood, naked, Wyreh couldn’t help but enjoy how the big man stood shyly, both hands covering his manhood.
Wyreh did a lap around the naked brute. His body was magnificent—how many cows had been slain just to keep this man’s belly full, Wyreh wondered—but he noticed on the man’s tailbone a curly tail had sprung up. Wyreh grabbed it between his thumb and forefinger and yanked.
“OW!” Lars shouted, swinging wildly at the old man. “What (oink) did you do?”
“It appears you’ve grown yourself a piggy tail to go with that face of yours.” When Wyreh got around to Lars’ front, he noticed the aforementioned “manhood” could no longer be referred to as that—the man’s large organ had stumped and twisted, now a swine phallis, only good for humping other sows! “And there’s that,” Wyreh said, tapping Lars’ piggy genitals with his cane. Lars swiped the old man away and covered himself again.
“I didn’t (oink)…” Lars began, examining the two pig-parts sprouting on his huge, rippling physique, “I didn’t… have these (oink) yesterday… It’s getting (oink) worse, isn’t it?”
“Not to worry, my lad, come with me.” Wyreh dragged the pig-man (still naked) to his kitchen. Wyreh opened up his pantry, took a few steps in, then pried up a tile from the floor. From the space below he pulled out several brightly colored bottles, a jar filled with green ooze, and a few shimmering trinkets. With all of those items gathered in his arms, the two left the kitchen, Lars opening doors for the encumbered old mage.
“Out in the barn, we’ll have to do this,” Wyreh shouted over the rain. “It’s a bit leaky in there, but there’s more room, you see, and I need a lot of room for what I’m going to do!” Lars followed the old man blindly, shivering in the rain.
As Wyreh arranged the various magical items out in the barn, Lars gasped. “My (oink) hands! Look at my (oink) hands!” He held out a palm: his fingers had begun to fuse, the first two forming one stump, the other two forming another. Wyreh looked closely at them.
“Those don’t look like hands,” he said, standing in the abandoned old pigsty and pouring out some glittery blue sand in a circle, “as much as they look like hooves! You’d best check those feet as well, it seems they’re reshaping as we speak!” Sure enough, seconds later Lars’ toes had begun to fuse and his feet were stumping down. Lars wobbled around unsteadily.
“Now, stand in the circle,” Wyreh commanded, and Lars stepped into it. Wyreh gestured wildly with his cane, doused Lars with foul-smelling fluids from various bottles, and then took a handful of the green ooze and drawing a sigil on Lars’ expansive chest. He muttered some words that sounded ancient and powerful, then placed his hand on Lars’ stomach. “Evil curse, I command you to disperse!”
Lars’ breaths were coming fast now, even more interrupted by oinks. “Nothing (oink) happened, you incomp-(oink)-etent imbe-(oink)-cile!” He examined himself, horrified to notice a layer of fat starting to form on his body. He poked at his now flabby midsection (which, only sections ago, was a rippling display of musculature) and wobbled it in the old man’s face. “I’m still (oink) changing!”
“It’s a strong curse,” Wyreh said, looking Lars up and down—a fine layer of stiff brown hair had started to form all over him—“but my spell is doing its work to dissolve it. It simply takes time. Just relax, my boy, you’ll be whole again in no time.”
Lars wasn’t soothed by the old man’s words. In fact, something was happening to his legs; they were getting shorter, it seemed, and restructuring. “I can (oink) barely (oink) stand!” Lars grunted.
“So sit!” Wyreh said. Leaning on his cane, he walked into the shadows of the barn and opened a barrel. He fished around for a moment and then returned with a rotten old apple, collapsing in upon itself in foul black mush. “And while you’re at it, eat this,” he said, shoving the decayed fruit into Lars face.
“No!” Lars said, turning his face away—but then, he seemed to pause, sniffing the air, reconsidering the smell. Then he leaned forward, a struggle apparent on his half-piggy face, and took the rotten apple into his mouth. It dropped to the ground and Lars fell on all fours, grunting loudly and greedily gobbling it up. When he stopped, he began to sob again. “Why (oink)… why did I (oink) eat that (oink) filth?”
“Pigs are filthy creatures,” Wyreh said with a grin, walking a wide circle around the half-warrior half-swine. “They’ll eat just about anything. I used to have livestock here, years ago, but I’ve grown too old to tend to animals. But still, it’s a peaceful life I lead, my boy, and peaceful it shall remain.”
Suddenly the muscles on Lars’ body seemed to be dissolving, replaced by smooth flabby flesh from head to toe. He noticed the change before it was entirely done, fearfully tilting his head this way and that as his strength ebbed away. He tried to rise to stand again but fell forward—he was stunned into silence for a moment when he realized his hips and shoulders had shifted, his arms and legs were all the same length now, and each one ended in a cloven pig’s hoof.
“But (oink)… but your (oink) spell!” Lars said as the changes came on more dramatically. His body was more or less that of a large boar’s with a man’s head. “Your (oink) spell will (oink) make (oink oink) me a (oink oink oink) man (oink oink) again (oink) won’t it?”
Wyreh shook his head as he backed out of the sty and swung the gate closed. “I’m an old man! I haven’t the power to reverse the work of the great bog witch!” he declared. “My, she sure is a magnificent creature; in my youth, I fancied her quite a bit. I couldn’t undo what she had done, but I could hurry the transformation along!” A look of horror spread across Lars’ face, but it was replaced as his features twisted and reshaped. It was clear the man—that is, former man—was trying to protest, but all that came out were loud squeals and oinks now.
The next day, in the town’s marketplace, a man from a nearby farm handed over quite a lot of gold for the great boar that Wyreh had walked into town.
“He seems rather docile!” the man said, kneeling down and staring into the massive creature’s face.
“Ah, yes,” Wyreh said, handing over a flask. “Simply put a few drops of this in his feed. It will keep him nice and calm!” The potion within was merely meant to sedate the boar. It did nothing to erase the very human brain within. And he knew as the farmer led the boar away from the marketplace, past a few young maidens who had gathered to gawk at the hideous beast, that deep within the boar was still Lars, still yearned to stand proudly before these people’s admiration, but would forever be a shameful beast to them now. And if he was lucky, Wyreh thought, they would use him for breeding; a boar that size could produce many healthy offspring, and Lars could live the happiest life a boar could. If not, he’d end up a great source of meat—and he could bring joy to people with his ample, robust flesh one last time.
As the farmer walked just past the city gates, Wyreh watched the boar look back at the town pitifully until he was roughly yanked along.
Who is the False Prophet of Revelation?
Eli Kittim
Binary Patterns
The Bible often uses binary patterns by introducing two important figures who turn out to be one single individual. For example, a binary pattern can be seen in the Old Testament’s (OT) presentation of the two Messiahs in Judaism: one is a high priest, the other is an anointed king of the Davidic line (cf. Zech. 4:14). The two Messiahs can also be found in the Apocryphal literature, such as in the Testaments of the Twelve Patriarchs and the Damascus Covenant. However, in the New Testament (NT), these two Messiahs are morphed into one priestly/kingly figure: Jesus, the Son of God (cf. Heb. 4:14 and Mt. 2:1–2).
The same is true of the two witnesses in the NT. In order to understand the identity of the two witnesses in Rev. 11:3-12, we must first trace them back to the Hebrew Bible from which they emerge (Zech. 4:14). So when we trace the identity of the two witnesses back to the OT and the context in which they appear, we find that they represent the two Messiahs of Rabbinic Judaism. But these two figures later became coalesced, commingled into one, in the figure of Jesus Christ, who’s given the titles of king and high priest in the order of Melchizedek, who is also a king and priest (Heb. 7:13-17). Therefore, the two witnesses appear to represent the coming Messiah: Jesus Christ (cf. Mal. 4:5; Rev. 6:2)!
The Earth & the Sea
First Jn 5:6 uses the symbols of “water and blood” to represent the divinity and humanity of Jesus, thus indicating that he’s both God and man. The “water” symbolizes the divinity of Jesus, while the blood symbolizes his humanity. Thus, water symbolizes the spirit, while blood symbolizes the flesh.
Now let’s look at the serpent of Gen. 3, which is later identified as the devil or Satan, who is also known as “the great dragon.” Revelation 12:9 says that he will be incarnated on earth:
“And the great dragon was thrown down,
that ancient serpent, who is called the devil
and Satan, the deceiver of the whole
world—he was thrown down to the earth,
and his angels were thrown down with him.”
Isaiah 27:1 alludes to the “the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” (Eph. 6:12) by portraying their ruler (i.e. the serpent/dragon) as residing “in the sea”:
“In that day the LORD with his hard and
great and strong sword will punish
Leviathan the fleeing serpent, Leviathan the
twisting serpent, and he will slay the dragon
that is in the sea.”
Just as 1 Jn 5:6 uses the symbols of “water and blood” to represent the spiritual and human domains, so the description of the two Beasts in Rev. 13—-one “rising out of the sea,” the other “out of the earth”——may be used in a similar fashion to describe the spiritual and earthly realms, respectively. In other words, the reference may be to a single individual who possesses two natures: a human & a spiritual one. Let’s not forget that in heaven, within the Throne Room of God, a sea is explicitly mentioned in Rev. 4:6 (cf. Gen. 1:7).
The Unholy Trinity
According to Rev. 13:4, the whole world “worshipped the dragon which gave power unto the beast” (i.e. the Antichrist). Yet notice that the second Beast (i.e. the False Prophet), who came out of the earth mimicked Christ because he “had two horns like a lamb … [but] spoke like a dragon” (Rev. 13:11). The point is that just as the two messiahs and the two witnesses represent one person, so the False prophet and the Antichrist may be one and the same person as well. The Book of Daniel doesn’t mention two Antichrists but rather one, namely, the “little horn” (Dan. 7:8; 8:9-12).
First Jn 4:1 associates false prophets with unclean spirits which have been unleashed in the world. Rev. 16:13 reads:
“And I saw, coming out of the mouth of the
dragon and out of the mouth of the beast
and out of the mouth of the false prophet,
three unclean spirits like frogs.”
The Dragon, the Beast, and the False prophet seemingly represent an unholy Trinity in which these three persons are one being, just like the Holy Trinity represents one being, not a plurality of beings. The Devil, the Beast, and the False prophet appear to be three manifestations or three modes that represent Satan, his spirit, and his incarnation.
False prophets in the OT
Surprisingly, we don’t find the phrase “false prophet” in the OT, but there are nevertheless references to many false prophets. The Septuagint (LXX) talks about the priests and the false prophets (ἱερεῖς καὶ ψευδοπροφῆται), and often links them together. The term ἱερεύς in this context refers to a priest, one who offers sacrifices to a god, an idol, or an evil spirit. So the LXX suggests that the false prophets are priestly insofar as they encourage the worship of idols (cf. Zech 13:2). Jeremiah 34:9-10 (LXX) associates false prophets with divination, enchantments, clairvoyance, dreams, sorceries, and with lies. Similarly, in the NT, false prophets are magicians, sorcerers, & illusionists (cf. Acts 13:6). This is reminiscent of 2 Thess. 2:9-11 in which the Antichrist “will use all sorts of displays of power through signs and wonders that serve the lie.” Likewise, in the Hebrew Bible, the false prophets are prophesying lying wonders and working miracles (see Exod. 7:8-13; Jer. 6:13). In the NT, they even rise from the dead (Rev. 13:3) and perform “great signs, even making fire come down from heaven to earth” (Rev. 13:13) in order to deceive if possible even the elect (Mt. 24:24).
False Prophets in the NT
Both Mt. 7:15 & Mt. 24:11 warn that there will be many false prophets (ψευδοπροφῆται) who will deceive the world. Matthew 24:24 speaks of false Christs (ψευδόχριστοι) and false prophets who perform “great signs and wonders.” Second Pet. 2:1 associates false prophets with false teachers who secretly introduce destructive heresies, even those that deny Jesus’ lordship. Similarly, 1 Jn warns of deception and commands Christians to “test the spirits to see whether they are of God; for many false prophets have gone out into the world. … This is the spirit of antichrist” (1 Jn 4:1–3). Thus, false prophets have the spirit of Antichrist. The apostle Paul calls them “false apostles” (2 Cor. 11:13) and “false brothers” (Gal. 2:4).
The most notorious false prophet in the Bible is the one referenced in the Book of Revelation. In Rev. 19:20, the signs that the False prophet performs in the presence of the Antichrist may be analogous to the signs that Jesus performs in the presence of the Holy Spirit who anoints him with power (see Lk 4:18; Acts 10:38). In fact, the relationship between the False prophet and the Antichrist seems to be analogous to the relationship between the first and second person of the Trinity in which the Word is not only with God but the Word is God, meaning that the Word & God are one and the same (see Jn 1:1). Thus, the reference to the Devil, his son (the Antichrist), and the unclean spirit (personified in the figure of the False prophet) may signify an unholy trinity of three persons who nevertheless share one being (Rev. 16:13). Let’s not forget that the great dragon——“that ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan”——is thrown down to the earth and takes the form of a man, as mentioned in Rev. 12:9. And just as Jesus, who is God incarnate, is called a prophet in Mt. 21:11, so the dragon, or Satan incarnate, may be dubbed the False prophet in Rev. 16:13. Matthew 7:15 warns of false prophets who come in “sheep’s clothing,” but who are “ferocious wolves.” This is echoed in Rev. 13:11 where the second Beast (False prophet) looks like a lamb but speaks like a dragon.
Conclusion
Curiously enough, it’s the False prophet who works miracles, not the Antichrist. But if the Antichrist is far more important, and if the False prophet is subordinate to the Antichrist, surely the Antichrist must have more power than him. Yet, in the Bible, the opposite seems true, which doesn’t make any sense. That’s why it seems far more plausible that they are one and the same person, just like the two witnesses and the two OT messiahs are one and the same person. So, the reference to the two beasts from the earth and the sea may be an allusion to a single individual who possesses two natures: a human & a spiritual one. Notice also that the second beast is not mentioned until after the resurrection of the first beast, “whose mortal wound was healed” (Rev 13:12), “and has come to life” (Rev 13:14). In other words, the second beast may simply represent the first beast after his resurrection. Therefore, it seems far more plausible to assume that the False Prophet is the Antichrist, who is also known by many other titles, such as “the man of lawlessness,” “the son of destruction” (2 Thess. 2:3), and the "Little horn" (Daniel 7:8, 20; 8:9-12, 23-26)!
Today in a nutshell. A bit of reading and a bit of forest.
Fanvidding used to be one of my things, last century and early in this one. I'd spend hours, days, with two VCRs or basic editing software, or with a mixer deck, especially if I wanted to extract a snippet of dialogue and mute the background music. "Labour of love" doesn't even begin to describe the process of getting a fanvid from concept to convention in the 1980s or 1990s.
I just had a couple of days trying out vidding on a high-powered Mac for the first time; a quarter-way-into-the-21st-century hardware and software setup, with nearly instant access to HD source video via the internet, and with by-the-hour rented cloud servers for uber processing power and AI automation when I need it.
It's like I've lived in 2 different worlds. Like, all that stuff I'd spend days doing by hand and ear and eye and brain to control the sound levels or trim a clip to the millisecond - there's software today that can do it at the click of a button in seconds. You want the soundtrack or ambient noise to vanish to isolate the dialogue? Done. Poof. Magic! Upscale that fuzzy old TV show to HD? Click! In an absolute pinch, my bloody phone can output a passable vid.
Vidding is still a labour of love, no question, if only because you need an awesomely detailed working knowledge/memory of the canon to cherrypick, but the whole production time scale has changed immeasurably within my adult lifetime. Amazing.
I know we've all seen and discussed The Kiss so many times by now, but it's nearly the one-year anniversary of GO 2 and ever since I saw this slow motion gif and this clip, it's felt like watching it all over again with fresh eyes.
Everything about this is so breathtaking on so many levels. The way Michael's eyebrows raise, the way he seems to almost lift himself into the kiss, like he was physically bringing himself closer to David's/Crowley's lips, and how they very nearly melt into each other even as they're trying not to. You can almost see their hearts leaping close together, as if something powerful is happening as much within them as without.
It reminds me of episode one and the angel-that-would-be-Crowley snapping his fingers and saying "Let there be light." Four little words, one simple gesture, and a whole universe that wasn't there before exploded into being. Sparks flying, in more ways than one...
And I love it. I love that this kiss is so incredible that we are still talking about it one year later, and that it will forever be one of the most gorgeously searing kisses ever committed to film. I love that we have this kiss specifically because it was Michael and David in these roles, and the once-in-a-lifetime chemistry between them.
There are film kisses, and then there are film kisses, and almost nothing I have ever seen on screen comes close to this, or ever will. I am so, so grateful to Michael and David for giving this to us, and to each other...
OC
So...this is one of my most recent drawings featuring a new OC, whos name is Lux. He is a sorcerer and is married to a werewolf. Me and my partner are working on the story at the moment :3
Light painting photography . Credit : Darius Twin
Tráiler de 'Sorcery': La historia de resistencia indígena producida por los hermanos Larraín y Dirigida por Christopher Murray y la brujería debutara en Sundance.....
Tráiler de ‘Sorcery’: La historia de resistencia indígena producida por los hermanos Larraín y Dirigida por Christopher Murray y la brujería debutara en Sundance…..
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Tráiler de 'Sorcery': La historia de resistencia indígena producida por los hermanos Larraín y Dirigida por Christopher Murray y la brujería debutara en Sundance.....
Tráiler de ‘Sorcery’: La historia de resistencia indígena producida por los hermanos Larraín y Dirigida por Christopher Murray y la brujería debutara en Sundance…..
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Reunion of Albion
[This is just a short headcanon that I had about BBC Merlin. Hope it helps you somewhat forget the pain of the finale. :)]
Nearly 1500 years after the death of the Once and Future King of Camelot. There is a shift in the air. The birds of Camelot seem more cheerful than ever. Everything seems as if shifting. The sun is brighter than before and the Queen stands in her room looking out in wonder.
"Merlin! What is happening?" she called out. "I have no idea Gwen, but whatever it is I feel strangely happy." "You were looking for a counter spell, did you find it? It has been the same of years now." "No Gwen. Even the Great Dragon has no answers." said Merlin.
Neither of them had aged a day. For 1500 years they were the same as they had been on the day when.... Some strange curse had befallen Camelot. The Queen, Sire Leon, Sir Percival, Merlin and Gaius had not aged a day. Nor had a lot many people. The world around them had reached many heights but how much ever Merlin tried he could never bring that change to Camelot. How much ever he tried he couldn't reverse the curse. It was as if Camelot was stuck at one place in the loop of time. Each year Merlin would try to do something to reverse it but nothing has worked.
"Your Majesty! There is something happening at the Lake of Avalon." said Leon bursting inti the room. It wasn't far away so all of them set out immediately.
"Merlin, Gaius do you know something of this?" asked Percival. "No. This is not something I know of." replied Gaius. The Lake was shining with a bright light. The trees were swaying to an unheard tune. There was some sort of movement in the middle of the Lake.
Merlin stepped closer. In his heart, he knew what was happening. He had known a day would come when they would be reunited. A day when they all will return. All of them stared open mouthed. A bright light blinded them all. When they opened their eyes, it was a sight to behold.
Middle of the Lake their stood Arthur in all his might with the Excalibur glinting in his hand. Beside him stood Gwaine, strong and smiling his own sword in his hand. Elyan stood beside him, grinning from ear to ear and Lancelot, stood there smiling at his long lost friends.
The Once and Future King has returned and with him have returned the Knights of Camelot. They were welcomed with open arms and flowing tears. There was a banquet and a feast. There was laughter and love. Camelot had returned to its full glory. But Merlin had not shed a single tear all day. It didn't seem real to him. To him, it seemed another of his many dreams. To him, it would all end. He had seen this before it ended with Gaius waking him up but as he decided that his going to sleep would end this, Gwaine came up behind him and said, "Merlin! There you are at last! I have been looking all over the place for you. I am a bit rusty, point me to the Tavern?" "Sir Gwaine has forgotten where the tavern is !? I must be dreaming!" said Percival. Leon entered behind him laughing followed by Elyan and Lancelot. Then came Gwen and then Gaius. Last of all came Arthur. They all laughed, and Merlin stared at them, tears finally prickling his eyes.
"Merlin, you idiot! What are you staring at?!" said Arthur smiling.
He had them all back. He had them back and now he realized what had happened to Camelot. Albion was no other than Camelot. He was Albion and because he was awaiting the arrival of The Once and Future King with his Knights, Albion waited as well. And now the wait was over for Albion had finally been reunited.
[It's not enough to remove the pain, but I hope it's enough to give you hope that all was well after all. Hope you liked it!!]
Inktober day 4
Familiar
A bit late, but here it is!