Future fic. Merlin comes to a realization that destroys what he has always believed.
The Gift
This is a gift
It comes with a price
It has been years since Merlin first came to Camelot, a naïve and gentle boy. Staring at his face in the mirror, he reflects on the many things he has gone through. The years have not been gentle on him, his face is worn and scars decorate it, as well as his whole body. The gifts of too many fights, many with people he had thought friends.
Smoke drifts in through the open window with the shrieks of the dying, evidence of the damage that he… no he did not cause this. He refuses to believe that he could have done anything differently, that he could have changed what has happened. He did what was right, what he had to do.
He laughs in contempt at himself. It has taken him years to realize the truth of the lies he told himself for all those battles and deaths. He did what he had to, to protect the future, he had never lost any sleep until the truth reared itself.
Magic. That great power given to him, and others. But power is not kind, neither is it merciful. He had thought that magic was just a tool, it didn't influence how people used it, either for good or evil. But how many warlocks and witches did he have to meet before he began to question why they never used magic for good?
Merlin stared into his reflected eyes as he finally accepted the truth. Magic was not good, but was evil. It was true evil in the way that made all those who use it see only one path they could take. It convinced them that their path was the right, and only way to achieve what they wanted. And if you found yourself on a different path that others, they were evil, you were always right.
Looking in the glass, hearing the sounds of battle, Merlin finally say himself at others did. The man who had betrayed and killed his own kind, to further a destiny that was doomed to end in blood.
Merlin turned from the mirror and looked out of the window. He saw Morgana's and Mordreds armies crashing into the city, sweeping past the pitiful resistance of the knights of Camelot. He saw the dangerously beautiful figure of the woman herself, using her sword as well as shouting spells in her inhuman voice, dozens falling all around her.
Morgana stopped fighting, and looked up, directly at Merlin standing in the tower. Their eyes locked. She saw the truth haunting his eyes. Her lips curled into that smirk he knew so well, the one that said "There's no point stopping now that you've come so far."
Merlin's eyes glowed gold.
Authors note: So yes, I know this story is weird and doesn't make much sense. I wrote it at midnight without much of an idea of what I wanted to do with it. It was inspired by Rabbit Heart by Florence and the Machine, which is and never will be mine.