Merlin
Book Two of the Pendragon Cycle
Chapter One
Many years have come and gone since I awakened in this worlds-realm. Too many years of darkness and death, disease, war, and evil. Yes, very much evil.
But life was bright once, bright as sunrise on the sea and moonglow on water, bright as the fire on the hearth, bright as the red-gold torc around my Grandfather Elphin's throat. Bright, I tell you, and full of every good thing.
I know that every man recalls something of the same golden sheen in life's beginning, but my memories are not less real or true for that.
Merlin.. a curious name. Perhaps. No doubt my father would have chosen a different name for his son. But my mother can be forgiven for her lapse. Merlin—Myrddin among my father's people—suits me. Yet, every man has two names: the one he is given, and the one he wins for himself.
Emrys is the name I have won among men, and it is my own.
Emrys, Immortal.. Emrys, Divine . . . Emrys Wledig, king and prophet to his people. Ambrosius it is to the Latin speakers, and Embries to the people of southern Britain and Logres.
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