[ though I originally wrote this for an assignment,
I wanted to share it on here, honouring the links
I incorporated regarding our dear King Arthur x ]

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As the sun dipped low in the sky and the clouds were tainted rosy-pink, a cloaked figure urged his horse onwards. He passed the outer-walls of the city - standing strong and impending against the dying rays - as the air grew colder and the stirrings of an evening-breeze rattled the bare trees and thatched cottage roofs. Sparks flew in the dim as candles were lit and hearths set ablaze all over the city - providing warmth and comfort to the people who feared autumn's bitter nights.

Entering the forest, the man couldn't help but sink into blissful reminiscence - the trees overhead had been a riot of colour, auburn leaves pirouetting down invisible spirals of breeze, spinning through the air as they fell around him. Under shafts of faltering light, hindered by soft-spun cloud he had pleasantly ambled, carefree and jovial; without haste or burden. All had been bright and still - until a malicious cloud had covered the sun, plunging the forest into frigid gloom, darkening the shadows and twisting the trees into arching, tangled traps.

The man blinked, his attention returning to the rhythmic harmony of hooves beating the firm ground; littered with crisp leaves, and discarded acorn husks. The air grew steadily colder and the canopy overhead thickened, throwing the well-trodden path into dusky gloom as the final rays kissed the woodland - the once-vibrant oranges and yellows melting into dismal grey.

It was dangerous to wander these woods alone - only smitten fools were tempted by the alluring sepia-tones, donned with amber leaves and scattered with seasonal pickings, the merry birdsong that chirped in lulls and bursts and the fabricated, pressing silence of the trees. Alas, the rider travelled with swift confidence; spurred by the rhythmical knocking against his side and the reassuring weight of his sword - accompanied with untold experience and an uncanny lack of fear.

Precious words thrummed through his head incessantly - a message uttered only to him, to be repeated to King Arthur and no other. The strenuous task would surely deter most other messengers; but not him. Worth more than gold, the information he harboured - if passed onto the wrong person - could be manipulated and twisted, creating tensions and divides between two kingdoms that customarily cherished peace. Hence his persistent impatience; not wanting to be distracted, he wished only to complete his task.

Nonetheless, he begrudgingly accepted that they were creatures of need; pulling gently on the reins, his horse skittered to a stop, to rest for a moment. The rider seized the chance to gaze up at the sky in awe-filled admiration.

Stars - scattered like freckles - danced about the impenetrable, inky sky, but looming storm-clouds scratched the flawless expanse, fettering the moon in tattered shackles, covering the stars brilliance; as though jealous of their beauty.

A low grumble of thunder cemented the rider's suspicions - rain was bound to fall, undoubtedly accompanied by a thunderstorm. Casting a final sombre glance upwards, once again the horse was urged onwards; though now a sense of uneasy urgency filled both steed and man alike.

Sure enough, the downpour was heartily announced by a lone drop upon the hooded head - defiantly disregarding the warning with an irritated shake, the man coaxed the horse into a gentle canter, intent on reaching his destination before the storm worsened. Perhaps it was fate; but the man would not stop to seek shelter, for his task was too great. Consumed with the burgeoning concern that he might lose himself in the shadowed forest - or worse, forget the message entirely in his haste - he pushed on, striving to overlook the worsening weather.

The forest roared it's disapproval as rain pounded against trees, beating the frail leaves into submission. Icy sheets cascaded relentlessly from the sagging clouds - the canopy overhead offering no protection - leaving the rider and his horse defenceless against the ferocious onslaught. Soon they were soaked, sodden and cold; but boldly driven to continue.

Rumbling thunder resounded; followed by a jagged shard of lighting, splitting the sky for a fleeting second. However, it was enough to illuminate the towering trees - sharp and grim in the hard light - and the snaking vines that hung from the twisted boughs. Tediously suspended, limp and unmoving; whilst ferns drooped miserably, smeared with mud and heavy with unspoken sadness.

Once again plunged into gloomy darkness, the horse's legs skidded frantically in the mud, spurred on by somewhat-agitated encouragement from the rider. Biting rain pierced raw skin, numbing fingers which clutched pathetically at the horse's reins and clouding eyes that unwillingly sought refuge. Tension hung in the air like a heavy mist; pressing down from the clouds above, swamping the forest like some deadly gas that choked the inhabitants unforgivingly.

A playful breeze tugged at the leaves, teasing them gently - promising frigid winds that would send the dampened fronds into uproar. Following another rumble and startling flash, the guttural, hallowing winds cruelly whipped the fallen leaves into swirling frenzies, echoing through the trees like a ghostly scream that reverberating around the man's head. No matter how fast he rode, the wind raced alongside him, taunting him like a plague.

In the obscure blackness, the path twisted and wound peculiarly - though the man felt certain he had not taken a wrong turn. The route to Camelot was simple and routine; yet the trees huddled unusually, seeming foreign and unexplored through the hazy overlay of rain. Slowing to a hesitant plod, the man looked over his shoulder into the impenetrable darkness, loathing his dependency on the lighting to illuminate the forest.

A distressed whinny was lost to the thunder's deafening rumbles - perhaps if the rider had recognised this blatantly startled cry, he might have attempted to softly reassure the panicked animal. Alas, the petrified horse suddenly bucked and reared, throwing the rider off; before bolting into the trees, melting from view as the darkness swallowed the creature whole.

The man landed with a heavy thud; a sickening crunch announcing undeniable trauma as he sprawled, winded and shaken upon the ground. Head swimming nauseatingly, the damp mud sucked the warmth from his skin, leaving his body heavy and numb. His vision danced with spots, his head swayed and echoed with pain, and darkness started to creep in ominously at the corners of his sight - but he had to stay awake.

What was it he had to remember? The memory had been so cruelly snatched away; all that remained was the knowledge that it was of great importance. Desperately struggling to recall the words, it was made painfully cumbersome when his eyelids drooped and his mind veered astray, enticing unconsciousness rendering his senses useless.

Still the thunder boomed - expressing no sorrow for the sluggish, broken man - and the rain pummelled interminably upon the motionless body thrown to the forest floor. Merciless gusts tore at his cloak, tormenting his feebleness, wickedly ripping the life from his bones as a chill settled upon his frigid skin. No longer able to fight the tremendous weariness that plucked his bones, the man closed his eyes and allowed darkness to swamp his fractured mind.

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a/n - congrats if you got through this! I know it wasn't the most exciting but I enjoyed expressing my descriptive side and incorporating some Merlin in ;)

Certain extracts were taken from other works so apologies if you felt some déjà vu whilst reading! x

Should have some more updates soon, but for now,

happy reading x