THE MORRIGAN CHRONICLES

EMRYS WALKED UP, towering over me at six foot five inches of solid muscle, dwarfing my five foot eight inch frame. I’m a slender yet strong woman and as always, his mass enveloped me. His thick chest and his arms spread wide, lifting me into a spin while holding me close. Tears streamed out of his soft grey eyes as he laughed.

He nuzzled my cheek, not bothering to pull my long red hair out of the way. I could feel the wetness of his tears against my skin. I knew they were tears of joy but my heart ached that he seemed so emotional. My truest friend. Our souls were intertwined in centuries of friendship and I could feel the relief that poured from him.

I pulled back to see his face though he loosened his embrace on me only slightly. His silver hair was cut short rather than the shoulder length he had worn what seemed to be a few minutes ago when we were in battle together. I ran my fingers over it, not liking the change and not understanding why it looked like this. His hair was like the metal silver, spun into soft strands and not that of an elderly human, though his solid build and lack of wrinkles would never allow him to be confused for an old man. The contrast of his bronze skin and grey eyes gave him a strange and appealing look at the same time.

“Emrys, why do you look like this and what is going on?” I said as the King cleared his throat next to me.

Emrys sat me down but still wore his grin. “King Conall.” He bowed then continued, “There will be time to explain but it is not now. We must go through the Great Oak to a place of safety I have readied for us. There I will explain all that I know.”

He grabbed my hand, barely taking his eyes off me to lead us out. My

hand felt at home in his. We walked in silence only because my head spun with so many questions I didn’t know where to begin. We made our way into the morning light, the sun barely above the horizon. There stood a man with the sacred horn and the Stone of Fal, one of the four treasures from our home.