The road stretched endlessly before them with no end in sight just a long stretch of dirt path, the sound of creaking wheels creaking beneath the carriage as hooves beat a steady rhythm into the dirt. It was then Liam noted there was no one managing the carriage it seemed to direct itself. He attributed it to Merlin, after all he was the Merlin the sage of ages, he doubted if there was anything he couldn't do.
Liam still felt the ache in his ribs, though the potion had eased most of the pain. Merlin's words still hung in his mind, prophecy, fate of the world, it reminded him of the silver haired woman, she had also spoken something similar, but he still couldn't believe it.
Prophecies were things of legends, of fire-stories, whispered to kids as they slept and shared between adventurers beside a fireside. To have himself caught up in one, it felt absurd, and yet Merlin didn't seem to lie after all he had no need to.
