Merlin sat on the low, thick branch of an old oak tree, his back against the trunk. He just stared up at the darkening sky, watching the first stars prick through the deep blue. He didn't have a care in the world, or at least, he was trying very hard not to.
He sighed. A long, heavy exhale. Then another a minute later. His thoughts were a jumble—the crazy priestess, her wild story, the feeling of walking through solid stone like it was mist…
One last sigh. "Alright," he mumbled to himself. "Enough moping. Mom's gonna kill me."
He swung his legs down and dropped lightly to the soft forest floor. He'd taken two steps towards home when the air above him ripped open.
Not a sound, but a tearing sensation in reality itself. A jagged hole of swirling, unstable light appeared, hovering ten feet above the clearing.
"What now?" Merlin muttered, already exasperated.
Then a figure tumbled out of the portal, falling fast.
