The Emerald Thief - Merlin BBC [1]

Chapter 9: The Hell Stone

My limbs freeze, the white light sends currents of pulsing sparks through my vessel. The white light blinds out the world around me, the white world beginning to spin at an unnatural pace. As quickly as this starts, the ringing gets drowned out by screams and howls of horror. Soon, many of the voices begin to chant my name and other things, all in different tones and intensities.

"Edythe!" A voice shrieks in pain.

"Edythe", another hiss in loathing.

"Well, well, well, look who it is!" a more inviting voice greets.

"Eeeeeedythe..." Another voice taunts.

"Help me! Please!" a woman screams.

Soon the words become mingled, overlapping one another, coming from every direction at once. I try to crane my neck around to see where the voices come from, but my neck is just as stiff as the rest of my body. The voices speed up, spiralling down on me like a hurricane. They beat into my skull like hungry seagulls as though trying to invade my mind, trying to grab hold of me.

"Stop..." I whisper, now feeling my limbs begin to work again, immediately bringing my hands to cover my ears. "Stop! Shut up!" I yell, shrinking down to my heels, closing my eyes whilst the voices intensify even more than before.

"I said, shut up!" I scream now, my voice echoing out as if in a long stone cave.

The voices fall silent instantly. I finch at the sudden silence, a ringing now in my ear. I peel my shaking hands from my ears, squinting my eyes open in expecting the light.

As I crack my eyes open, I find it dark, a small pale light shining overhead.

Confused, I cautiously rise, taken aback as the scenery begins to change before my very eyes. Trees sprout from the ground in many shapes and sizes. The soil beneath my feet turns to a damp forest floor riddled with dead leaves. I look down as a weight appears in my arms, a bucket of water moulding into my hands, pulled tightly against my chest.

I'm dressed in old worn leather clothing, a dark green cloak clinging to my small frame, which is now childlike. I'm shorter, hair longer, limbs weaker, and frame barer.

A scream catches my ear, eyes wide to see a camp, wagons spread across an open plain in the forest. Tens of people gather around, some standing, others seated, the scream catching their attention as well. Another scream fills the air, followed by another, and another. Soon there are screams from every direction, bouncing through the trees. In a blink, the camp becomes chaos, people scattering in all directions.

Men on horses crash through the camp with crossbows and swords in hand. They're dressed in attire I'm not familiar with, a crest on their chest I've never seen before. They show no mercy, throwing lit touches into tents, cutting down any man, woman or child in their path. Bloodstains the ground as an older woman tumbles, an arrow in her back. A bag of apples in her grasp scatter over the forest floor.

My hand releases the bucket in horror, the water flooding across the ground like a stream. My knees feel weak under me, the shocking sight paralysing me.

"Please!" a voice next to me screams. I feel a tug on my cloak.

I leap to the side in fear, eyes darting down. A woman crawls across the ground, her light green cloak torn and covered in blood. She is in distress, hair tangled around her pale face "take him, please!" she cries, pleading to me. A small boy in her arms, barely older than three years old, looks up at me with eyes wide in horror. Tears stain his red cheeks.

For some reason, I stare at her blank-faced whilst she continues to plead and push her reluctant son toward me. I see the wound on her side, which is too horrific to look at, causing me to look away in disgust and nausea.