The Second (The Immortal Prophecies: Book I)

Prologue

The Second: Book One of the Immortal Prophecies series © by RavenWolf.

Copyright 2015 ©. All rights reserved.

Cover RavenWolf ©, 2015. Images belong to their respective owners. No part of this book can be copied or used unless quoted directly or with written permission and consent from the author. A fine will be put if this happens.

Character names and setting are not based on true events, people or places, and is original work and imagination of the author. It is pure coincidence if it happens to be.

Dedicated to those whom have always had faith in me about my writing. Thank you. I kept my promise on the dedication.

***

Prologue

The baby wrapped in her blanket slept comfortably, even as her mother was jerking her around as she ran. Panting to a stop, she peered around to check if anyone was at her heels. No one. She continued, walking fast this time, wary. I'm so sorry, she apologized mentally at the creature in her arms, I'm sorry you'll have to go through the pain of being alone. She kissed her baby's head before arriving at her destination--Morgause's quarters. She knocked.

"Hurry, come inside," she said, opening the door.

"Thank you," The mysterious, cloaked woman said, entering hurriedly.

"Did anyone see you?" Morgause asked.

"Thankfully, no. I'm certain Arthur has the guards with him and the Knights of the Round Table."

"Good. I'll call Merlin." She slipped out of the room for a moment before returning with the most famous wizard in Camelot, robed in all his wizarding glory.

"Guinevere." He paused for a moment. "Arthur is alright with this decision?" Guinevere nodded. Merlin looked grim for a bit before retrieving his wand from his sleeve. The child was still very small and young--and the king's kin.

"Follow me, then." They moved past his quarters and Morgause's before entering his spell chambers. That's where Guinevere saw the mirror, the only thing that was going to separate her from her daughter, whom had only entered the world for a week at the most.

"Let me see the child," Merlin said, extending an arm. Guinevere looked back at the bundle in her arms; her soft, round face with hidden emerald jewels, similar features to her, the red hair that symbolized her as the designated being for the doing. It's for the best, think of that, she told herself. Hesitantly, she gave the poor thing to the master wizard. Then, an elegant yellow, orange and red bird about the size of a chicken swooped right besides Merlin, its flaring tail feathers whispering with the low breeze behind it. The wizard sighed sadly.

"You know what to do, my loyal friend." As if knowing what was going to happen, the bird gave a sort of nod of understanding before soaring a few yards up into the air and majestically, lit itself up like a candle. Slowly, its mystical embers danced their way down to the wizard, where he controlled the little lights with his magic.

"Thank you," Guinevere whispered before the creature finally ceased with the last of the ashes gracefully falling with a wave. I'm sorry to you as well.

"Sub lucem lunae phoenix ante ultimum in esse, et sanguinis fundere Ursa aurei regina vera heredi. Phoenix serpens exspectat, sed tantum eam videre Hawk et venenum. Postquam resurrexit regiam ardere flamma est ignitionis. Simul contraria concordiam serpens aeris superficiem iam formatam aeternum dutaturas indissalubili vincula," he recited with grave somber. The wee flames of the phoenix reunited together in harmony, responding to Merlin's wand as if he were a music conductor pacing a symphony. The cries of the ancestral legendary birds of fire drowned the ears of everyone present, as the fiery remains kissed the delicate skin of the infant, changing the crimson red of her hair to an opposing earthy brown.

"It's done," Merlin declared.

"Is it ready?" Guinevere asked. Merlin nodded. He carried the child towards the mirror, which began to glow softly.

"Wait." Guinevere said, taking a necklace out of her sack, hoping it would be enough time to take in her treasure's features one last time. She placed it on her daughter, rubbing the birthstone--a red garnet. If I'm not with you, my love, my spirit will. Please remain as safe as you can.

Reciting his password, Merlin placed the child in a basket and traveled forward in time. He found a building that had the word 'orphanage' and placed the basket beside the door, knocking on it, without being inconspicuous.

"Good luck, Your Highness." He wished and then, vanished.

***

And that was how the orphanage caretaker, an elder man with other unknown duties, found her. Along with a small note that said, Guenevere--Born the first of January. Take very well of her, beside her small body. Notes were rarely left, just the child filled with a shadow of neglect--how odd. He sensed something unique about the creature, debating whether to let himself be heard or not. It could be for the better, or worse.

He would know soon enough, for time would be to tell the fate of her.

For now, she required substituting care, where the man was more than happy to provide for her. How he loved his job of caring for infants, the nursery.

He would take care of her personally, he promised. Until she would fend for herself.

***

Back in Camelot...

"Tell me she is safe now," Arthur pleaded his bride when she returned, looking the stunning image of grief. The queen bowed her head, unable to bear the loss of her first and only child.

"She is now." Firm, but gentle arms encased around her, in hopes of giving her a bit of comfort to ease the ache she felt as a mother. Guinevere wanted to do nothing more but to run back to the supernatural piece of glass and retrieve her bundle of joy, but doing that would be a foolish decision--the person seeking her would do worse than what the prophecies predicted she was going to go through.

The door to the wing was cast aside, and entering was the most loyal knight to the throne--Sir Lancelot. "Your Majesties," He curtsied.

"Lancelot. What news do you have of the scrolls?" King Arthur questioned.

"Morgana has taken the liberty in stealing as we planned, but...young Mordred and his effects turned the tables. They're lost in his hands. I'm not even certain how he was able to do such a thing." The remainder of the royal family digested the news in an unorderly manner.

"By Jove. And when the time comes for his asking? He will hunt us down!" Exclaimed her Highness. Her partner frowned.

"Not while I'm alive. Lancelot, tell Merlin what has happened, and do not fail to mention 'scavenger'. That ought to let him know the grave stakes. Hurry!" He ordered. The knight wasted no time exceeding commands, using his ability of drifting away to full advantage, disappearing in a matter of seconds.

"And your son?" The queen asked, genuinely worried.

"We cannot do more than what is possible. As he grows older, the more out of control the curse will be, and we know the results of that," Arthur explained.

"What about our little one?" The queen insisted, borderlining a nag and overly concerned mother. The king sighed at the thought of knowing what his heir will have to go through until they met again. But love in their family was far from easy, and accepting it was their best option. His little princess...

"Pray to the Heavens everything goes accordingly to the prophecies."