The story of King Arthur is incorrect. The history books always get it wrong and do not even start to talk about the various different legends and myths surrounding him. As a species thriving in the twenty-first century, people have decided that magic, mystical creatures, and all other fanciful things that run wild in children's imaginations are absurd. Arthur's story was heavily influenced by Merlin, Camelot's great wizard, but who was Merlin? Why did he want to protect Arthur and Camelot's monarchs, and what about Sir Kay and Sir Ector? What were their motives? The answers are too "magical" for people today to understand, but perhaps you are different. Perhaps you will accept the true story of Arthur and Merlin. Maybe you will even figure out what Merlin never could.
It was three years before Arthur was born. It started with the turn of a knob and some rather bright flashing yellow lights that caused a magic blue box to appear in the center square of a small village just south of Camelot. The village people watched with amazement as he stepped from the box. He was a tall, lean man in a pin-striped suit. His hair was in a state of disarray, and his face beamed with excitement as if he had never before set foot in a town such as this. The villagers cheered for the odd man and his blue box. He bowed to the left then to the right ending in the center.
"It cannot be!" screamed a man standing in the center of the crowd.
"But it is," responded the child standing in front of him. "It's him. He's returned."
"'Tis but a fool's fairy tale to believe in such things," a raspy voice snarled in the general direction of the child. "Besides, was the child even permitted to speak?"
"Oi! Don't yell at the kid," came a voice from the other side of the square.
"Well, they have to learn," came another voice. In less than ten seconds, the crowd erupted in screams, fights, and outright chaos. Fists were being thrown. Clothes were being torn. There was running; there was screaming. Children hid behind their parents, while parents yelled and spit at one another. The mysterious stranger, who was seemingly the cause of all of the quarrel, watched with curiosity.
From behind the blue box, came an almost-handsome man decked out in ornate red and gold armor. His silk cape possessed a crest of some sort, but the stranger could not place its origin. The man moved swiftly despite his rigid composure. He raised his right hand and made a motion across the square ceasing all fighting, swearing, and crying. The crowd fell to their knees like dominos. The strange man from the box tuned into the events currently taking place around him and decided to bow before the man.
"What on God's good Earth, is the meaning of this ruckus? Are you trying to make a travesty of the battles your sword-wielding knights fight? Will any one of you stand and say you are brave enough to brandish a sword and shield? Who began this? To whom do you all owe your feats of character?" The man unsheathed his sword and swung it about the crowd trying to pick out who had been the cause of the commotion. He stopped on a middle-aged man who looked as if he had been skipping his meals for the past year or two. The sword's commander pressed its tip into the pitiful man's temple. A small bit of blood seeped down his face. The man winced, but made no defensive maneuvers.
The sword was tactfully removed when the original child was lifted above the crowd. The villager collapsed on the ground and blotted his temple with a strip torn from his thin shirt. The child squirmed trying to get away from the man holding him above the crowd. "It was his transgressions that caused it, your majesty."
"It's Merlin, my king!" the child screamed with panic on his face. "Merlin! He has returned!" The king brought the child to the center of the square.
The man in the suit had been clenching his jaw. He was not going to get on well with Camelot's king. He took several moments to register what he had just heard. Merlin. He glanced around the square. All eyes seemed to lead him back to one place: himself. "You mean me?" He pointed to himself, bewildered. "Right! Okay!" He cleared his throat and motioned to the crowd while saying, "'Tis I, the great and powerful Merlin. See!" He pulled a cylindrical silver and blue device from his pocket. "I've even got a wand. Ha!"
"I see," said the king. "However, a disruption still occurred. Off with his head!" Merlin rushed toward the king, while he shoved the child to his knees, and in one clean motion, the child's head no longer sat atop his neck.
It had been fifteen years since Merlin's reincarnation had arrived, and twelve years since the disappearance of Arthur Pendragon, the king's only son. Everyone seemed to have forgotten the rumors of Merlin's involvement in the disappearance. He had fought the rumors with all the might he could muster. There was very little evidence to suggest that Merlin was involved. King Uther would not risk executing Merlin because he was well-liked among the public. Uther was clever; his own reputation could have been at stake. Merlin had developed a strong-rooted hatred for Uther. He witnessed the child's death every time he closed his eyes. There was a level of his own involvement that he couldn't shake off. At the birth of Arthur, Merlin knew what he needed to do. Arthur was taken from his parents as the child in the square was taken from his. Thus marks the beginning of King Arthur's tale. He was given to Sir Ector and raised into a normal life as Sir Kay's squire.
"You're asking for it, Wart!" Sir Kay spat at Arthur. Kay grabbed Arthur by the front of his shirt and picked him up to where they were face to face, then he threw Arthur to the ground. "Stand up, you coward! Get on your feet! Why don't you ever fight back!?"
"Why would I, sir?" Arthur asked looking up at Sir Kay. "You are almost five inches taller than I, and you are clearly stronger. There would be no point."
Kay sneered at Arthur. "Coward." He swung his leg back and drove his foot under Arthur's ribs.
"I'm sorry for offending you, sir," Arthur moaned from the fetal position as Kay walked from behind the shed towards their house. Arthur stood up, stifling a few rough coughs. He brushed the dust from his clothes and shook it from his hair. He practically wore rags, but Arthur took a lot of pride in making his own clothes. He never found a need to care about such petty things the way Ector and Kay did.
Without any proper warning, Merlin popped his head from around the corner of the shed. "Arthur, my boy! Ready to learn?"
Arthur rolled his eyes. "I think I know enough. There is really no reasons to continue with the teaching, sir."
"There are no reasons. Which, in itself is a reason. Did I ever tell you about the amount of grammatical mistakes good old Aristotle used to make? It was far too many for his intellect. He was a guy, and let me tell you it was an adventure trying to help him. He wouldn't stop calling the invading Daleks cute! Cute! Anyways, the whole concept of grammatical errors is subjective. I don't see why any one person should be able to say who is, or is not, talking properly. And how do we decide who decides?"
"I lost you after the first sentence."
"Yeah. Yeah, but first things first, why are you covered in dust?" Merlin pulled out his wand and waved it around at Arthur.
"Stop waving that thing at me. Sir Kay misunderstood me. That's all. He thought I was trying to be a coward, and I guess I was."
Merlin held the wand sideways and looked to be reading the side of it. He rubbed his fingers through his hair. "Did he punch you again?"
"Actually, no! He just kicked me."
"At least there is a bit of progress. Now, back to our lessons. You don't want to be illiterate your whole life." He began reading the story of Cain and his descendants.
King Uther slammed his hands on the round table in front of him. The sound echoed from the war room through the rest of the castle. "It's been twelve bloody years!"
"I am aware, your majesty. Which is why we've lost all leads. I don't know what you want us to do," said the knight sitting to the right of Uther.
"I want my son, bastard or not. I want my son back!"
"Are you planning to make him king, my lord?" asked a different knife.
"That's none of your damn business, sir." The King looked war-ready. "But no, I won't have any bastard running my kingdom."
"What about King Ban's son? He's coming of age, or will he be ruling Benwick?"
"Maybe, maybe, but my health is not yet failing. I want Arthur to be home. Make it happen, knights. Make it happen, or none of you will ever be able to do anything again!"
"Father, the sword is heavy," Sir Kay whined dropping the large sword on the ground.
"You mangy idiot, you can't even lift the sword. How do you expect to ever win a fight?" Sir Ector asked. He never hid his disgust of his son. Kay tried once more to lift the sword into the air. His veins popped out. His head reeled. He managed to keep the sword in the air while lunging at the leather dummy sitting in front of him. The sword practically leapt from the dummy, throwing Kay on the ground.
"The Wart can do it," Ector remarked pointing his sword in the direction of Arthur's lessons with Merlin, which happened just across a small barrier in the backyard. He didn't have a sword half as nice as Kay's, but he was a natural. He had long surpassed the leather dummies, and he was currently fighting Merlin, who was using his left hand instead of right. Merlin moved to swing below Arthur's knee but made a split second decision to knock him on the helmet instead. Arthur attempted a similar maneuver, but it was easily blocked, and his sword was thrown from his hands. The sword flew across the barrier and landed in between Kay's legs.
"You could have taken my head off!" Kay jumped across the barrier and attempted to punch Arthur across the jaw, but his fist was caught by Merlin. He twisted the boy's fist and pinned him against the shed that set adjacent to the training area.
Merlin leaned in to Kay. "Try something like that again, and I will break your fat wrist," he whispered to him. He tightened his grip before letting him go.
Kay sauntered back to his father. "I'm finished with today's lesson, sir," he mumbled walking towards the forest.
"You ought to let the boys fight on their own, wizard," Sir Ector said starting off in the opposite direction of his son.
"Again?" asked Merlin lunging toward Arthur. They began laughing, and soon they were both rolling on the ground in tears.
The king's knights had been employed with a very important task. They had been searching Camelot for years upon years. Their hopes were far from high, and their newly renewed food supply was quickly running low. Their journeys were filled with laughter and song, but lacked of any luck. At the beginning of the twelve year search, they had twenty-five men. Now, they trudged with only twelve. Twelve men following closely by the order of a man with great power. The men set up camp in different villages each night, and if there was no village, they made camp in the woods. They asked questions of anyone named Arthur and any knowledge of twelve year old children around the area. There were always several Arthurs and several twelve year olds, but they had yet to meet a twelve year old Arthur, or any twelve- year-old to look at all like the king and his supposed mistress.
"You realize that someone stole this child, right?" asked a tall member of the group one evening while all of the men were sitting around on logs in the forest.
"Obviously. Are you try'n to be stupid?" scoffed the oldest member of the group. His life was a miracle. He was at least sixty, and was seen as practically immortal. Really, the luck of a man to live past the age of three was something to celebrate.
"No. I'm just say'n: If the kid was stolen, then I'd say there was a reason. It was probably killed the night of the abduction."
"And?"
"And! Why have we wasted the last twelve years of our lives searching for a ghost?" The tall member was tired. He was only twenty-seven. He had started this search at fifteen. He thought that it would be his only chance to work directly under the Great King, Uther Pendragon.
"Well, maybe he's not dead. If we find him, we could be famous and rich and powerful. I don't know about you men, but I'd sure as hell like to be a powerful, rich, and famous man," said another member of the group. He was known for never choosing to wear shoes or a shirt. One inn denied him access because of some new law. He could never remember what it was, though.
"Oh, shut up! All of you! Shut up! There's no reason for this nonsense. We find the kid. That's it. We find the kid, because the bloody king told us to find 'im," said the one man sitting away from the others. He was the knight's self-chosen leader. He slowly walked toward them. They were now all completely silent. "Men! We are doing a job. Pretend it's a new job. We need to approach this differently. The same thing for twelve years didn't work, so what can we do differently? Think men! The answer isn't going to fall out of the sky!"
As the words came out, a large thud sounded from a few feet away. The king's men turned their heads in sync to see Kay pouting below a nearby tree.
"Boy? What are you doin'?" the tall man asked Kay.
"That's sir to you! Sir Kay, and I was climbing this here tree to get a better look at you, when the branch I was on went and broke."
"Why are you in the forest, though? No, 'Sir Kay' ought to be roaming these woods," the old man added.
"Like I'd tell you. Now, I must be on my way. Good day," Kay rose and began to walk away.
"Hang on!" yelled one of the men. "Do you know anyone by the name of Arthur?"
"Yes, actually." Kay stopped in his tracks and turned back to face the men. "My stupid step-brother's name is Arthur. My father and I prefer to call him what he is though: a wart."
"Is he around the age of twelve?"
"I suppose so."
The leader of the group drew his sword. "You will take us to him." He put the sword on Kay's chest. "Now."
Merlin sprinted through the field beside Arthur's house. "Ector! Ector!"
Sir Ector came out of the house and met Merlin in front of it. Arthur watched from a window. Merlin obviously had something very important to tell Ector. Ector looked very angry. There was a bit of yelling and, Arthur assumed, some threatening. Merlin took out his wand, and Ector drew his sword, but they seemed to talk it out without having to slaughter one another. Arthur was somewhat relieved. It would have been a bad day if they both had died.
"Wart, we're leaving," Ector said as he entered the house. Arthur knew not to question it. He immediately got up and went to pack his and Sir Kay's bags.
After about ten minutes, Arthur had loaded his, Ector's, and Kay's bags onto their buggy. He climbed into the front seat where he would be helping Merlin drive. The horses were already attached, and the trip was about to begin. Arthur rarely got to accompany Kay and Ector on their trips, so he welcomed any opportunity for travel. Merlin had never before travelled with them, so he knew that this would be an interesting trip. Arthur enjoyed trips that brought him closer to the castle. He liked to imagine he could live in a castle and become a famous king, but he knew his place, and he was fairly happy working under Kay.
"Ready?" Merlin asked as he plopped down beside Arthur.
"Yep, but where are we going?"
"A joust."
"Why are we going to a joust?" Arthur did not understand why Merlin would accompany Ector and himself to a joust, and where had Kay gone?
"It appears your lovely brother, Kay, has befriended some of the king's knights, and they are on their way to his first joust as we speak." Merlin clicked the reins thrice, and the buggy began moving.
The ride took about six hours, and was mostly spent in silence. Once the sun set, Arthur moved to the back with Ector. He was not fond of the night, and it was safer in the back of the carriage. Thieves roamed the roads at night, and they would kill the driver before the passengers. Ector had white knuckles around the sword that he held steady through the trip. Merlin on the other hand was oddly unafraid. He was practically giddy to be driving the carriage through the night. He was always practically giddy, though.
Arthur awoke in a small inn. There were a lot of noises coming from the outside of his room. He heard horses and screaming; he heard swords and armor. Something was happening. He hopped out of bed and went outside to see about all of the hustle-and-bustle. There were playful sword fights, and children with miniature jousting sticks. There were heavily intoxicated men with promiscuous whores. The town was booming. Arthur was pushed and moved and almost run over by a horse. There was no order to the town. Children ran amuck and adults could not care less.
Arthur scaled a brick wall to get away from all of it. He sat on the wall and just observed his surroundings. He finally remembered the conversation between himself and Merlin. "That's it!" exclaimed Arthur, jumping from the wall. He ran in the direction of the main joust and happened to run right into the back of Merlin.
"Arthur! Kay is about to do his first joust. Come here." Merlin lifted Arthur to his shoulder.
"Hang on. Who are those men with Sir Kay?" Arthur asked.
Merlin immediately dropped Arthur from his shoulders and began running through the crowd. He forked his elbows into people, and he shoved them out of the way. He twirled and jumped around to avoid swords. He could see Kay, and he knew what he was doing. He had seen the first conversation between Kay and the king's men. His entire plan was about to be undone. He had spent fifteen years in this place. He never spent more than a few weeks in one place. Yet, he was still with Arthur. After this much effort, Merlin was not going to be taken down by an arrogant boy.
Kay was walking towards him with the twelve knights closely tailing behind him. "Merlin! Are you here to see my first joust?" Kay was genuinely confused.
"Why are they here? Kay, you stupid ape!"
"Why am I stupid? They were asking questions about the Wart. They think he's connected to the king."
"He doesn't know anything about Arthur," Merlin reasoned with the men. "I'm sorry for this inconvenience. He's just an ignorant child."
"Just let us talk to him," the knight's leader said.
"No. That isn't happening."
"I think it is." The knight grabbed Kay and held his sword to Kay's throat.
Arthur had followed Merlin and seen the whole thing. He had to help. He was the cause of this. Kay could not die. He would not let him. Arthur needed a sword. He could save his step-brother, or he would die trying. He just needed a sword. Arthur took off running toward the inn. He knew he had packed Kay's sword.
"Merlin, my old friend, it's been a while," said King Uther walking up behind Merlin. "It's been twelve years. Have I finally found him? My son, the next king of Camelot, is he here?" The knights exchanged glances of confusion.
"Uther, would you please tell your knight to unhand Sir Kay?"
"No." The word came out, and with the blink of an eye, Merlin took the knight's sword and had it pointed at the king. The knights drew their swords, but hesitated to attack the wizard.
Arthur ran past a churchyard where he saw a sword sticking out of an anvil on a stone. He changed direction and went into the churchyard. He glanced around cautiously to be sure no one would see him. He assumed the sword was part of a war memorial, or something like that. He really did not care. He jumped on the stone, placed his hands around handle, and pulled the sword from the stone. A large wind swept him up. He, along with the sword, tumbled backwards and landed beside the church.
As the sword slid from the stone, Merlin plunged his sword straight through the king's chest. The knights dropped their weapons and raised their hands in the air. Merlin threw the sword in the air and caught it by the blade. He handed it back to its owner. He no longer needed it. Kay looked Merlin in the eye and stammered, "You just killed the king."
"It was for the best, Kay."
"And if Camelot is thrown into anarchy? What then?"
"It won't. I promise."
Light beamed from the hole in the anvil. Gold letters appeared on the blade of the sword. Arthur did not see or care about either of those things. He had no idea what he had just done. He ran back to Merlin and Kay. In the back of his mind, he assumed Kay was already dead. He told them all about the sword and the churchyard. Kay shared a story about a legend his father's friends had told him. It was quickly realized that Arthur had just crowned himself as the rightful king of Camelot.
Arthur had been king for five years the next, and last, time he saw Merlin. Merlin showed up in the war room of the castle. If it had been anyone else, an extensive investigation would have been done, but Arthur knew Merlin. There was no need for him to know how Merlin broke into the castle; he just did. The two men exchanged pleasantries, and Arthur shared all the excitement of his years as king.
Finally, Arthur said, "You know, you never told me: how did you get that sword in the, what did you call it, the stanvil?"
"The stanvil, yes! Honestly, I didn't. I've no idea how the sword got there, or why it made you king. I was going to have your mother confirm your bloodline, but the magic sword is much better. Magic sword is definitely the way to go in that situation."
"You never figured it out! You mean you aren't even slightly curious?"
"Of course I'm curious, but there is always something I don't know, Arthur. I think it's good. Knowing everything would probably go to my head." Merlin laughed and patted Arthur on the back.
Merlin got back in his magic box, and Camelot never saw him again. His legend was morphed into what fit with the time. Arthur lived out his legacy as king, and it was said that he even outdid his great father. No one knew how King Uther died. Arthur never mentioned it, and Camelot's people based their discussions on Arthur's thoughts. Arthur would not forget Merlin, or his role in his upbringing. Merlin also would not soon forget Arthur. He had needed Arthur when he arrived in Camelot. Arthur provided him a stability that he had not had in a very long time. Arthur would eventually find out about the sword and the magic behind it. He wrote Merlin several notes before his death, but Merlin never got around to returning to Camelot. Arthur lived a good life. He lived a successful life. He was a good king and possibly, an even better man.