Embers of Albion

Will Stanton, now fourteen, awoke in his Welsh uncle's home, feeling an uncanny chill slithering in the air. Uncle David had taken him in after a strange bout of illness left Will with little memory of his past actions. He remembered the Old Ones, and he remembered the battle for the Light, but the specifics were as blurred as the distant haze over the Welsh mountains.

'We're going for a hike today, lad. Got some old family land needs checking,' Uncle David announced over breakfast.

As they journeyed deeper into the Welsh valleys, Will felt an almost instinctive pull, a beacon of sorts. They reached a summit overlooking a beautiful yet eerie lake, Llyn Mwyngil. Suddenly, as if triggered by the sight of the water, fragments of his memory began to flood back - The Grey King, the golden harp, Bran, the raven boy. Yet, they appeared like flashes, small vignettes, elusive, leaving Will with a profound sense of unease.

Suddenly, they were no longer alone. A large figure, a man wrapped in a cloak of silvery mist, emerged from the fog. He nodded at Will, an ancient, wise glint in his eyes. Will’s heart pounded. The Grey King. The memory solidified, a fragment of a torn past weaving itself back into the fabric of his reality.

'Remember the prophecy, Will Stanton. Only in sleep will the mortal shell cycle through the forgotten lives. Only then will the Old One reclaim his power and rise against the Grey King once more. The harp shall play again,' the King murmured, before disappearing into the thin Welsh air.

Will stared at the now-empty space where the Grey King had been. His chest ached with a feeling that was an odd mix of fear, longing, and determination. He remembered now - The Light must be fought for. The King had awakened the Old One within him and all the memories he carried.

In the echoes of the wind, he heard the faintest three notes of an unseen harp, playing a melody that was both strange and familiar to him. With the memories, he also remembered the tastes of victories past and lost friends. The fight was not yet over. The Grey King might have awakened a sleeping giant.

The time had come. The Old One inside him rose, and Will Stanton knew he had to take responsibility for a battle waged over centuries. It was time once more to fight for the Light; against the Grey King, against the Dark.