A Whisper in the Halls

Merlin leaned against the rough stone wall of Camelot's grand hall, a curious chill running down the back of his neck. The flickering torchlight danced on the ancient tapestries, casting lively shadows that tickled his imagination.

“Merlin!” called Lady Morgana, her voice as smooth as velvet. She glided over, a worried crinkle on her forehead.

“Good morrow, my lady,” Merlin replied, brushing the dust from his simple brown tunic. “Is something amiss?”

“I've been having peculiar dreams lately,” Lady Morgana confessed, her piercing blue eyes narrowing slightly.

Merlin chuckled, rubbing his eyes. “Maybe more cheese and less ale before bed?” he teased, masking his intrigue with humor.

But even as the jest left his lips, Merlin felt an invisible tug—a whisper, almost, beckoning him outside.

As the castle's heavy wooden door creaked open, the fresh morning air greeted him. Nearby, the shimmering lake sparkled mischievously under the sun's gaze.

Merlin's gaze caught something unusual—a fleeting image rippling across the water. It showed Camelot, but somehow different, as though a glimpse from the times to come.

“Perhaps there is more to this than I thought,” Merlin murmured to himself, glancing back at the towering silhouette of Camelot. Little did he know, King Uther's ban on magic had unknowingly sowed seeds of peril within the kingdom.

Echoes in the Water

Merlin wandered closer to the lake, his boots crunching softly over fallen leaves. Curiosity tingled at the tips of his fingers like an itch that wouldn't go away.

“Shoo! You're blocking my sun!” came a voice, deep and rumbling like distant thunder.

Merlin skidded to a stop, his brown eyes wide. Peering over the side of the bank was a massive turtle, its shell as craggy as the castle walls.

“Apologies, mighty turtle,” Merlin mumbled, stepping aside, intrigued.

“I am Gwander,” said the turtle, his eyes twinkling like stars reflected in the water. “And you, young wizard, have seen the whispers of what’s to come.”

Merlin blinked. “You saw it too, did you? Those images in the water?”

Gwander nodded gravely. “Yes, and more. King Uther’s fear of magic...it may unravel what holds Camelot together.”

Questions bubbled in Merlin's mind, but before he could ask, the lake's surface shimmered again, painting ghostly scenes of Camelot in turmoil.

Gwander sighed deeply. “The future is not fixed, Merlin. But are you brave enough to change it?”

Merlin gazed at the rippling visions, determination sparking in his heart.