Keys to the past.
Chapter 1.
Thick fog muffled the sound of Merlin's hard heeled winter boots as he walked purposefully down the lamplit street. The city seeming to sleep around him so quiet were the sounds of the rush hour traffic running along the main road at the end of this leafy suburban row of terraces. The thick black wool coat and charcoal grey scarf did little to ward off the october chill. The trouble, he had found, was that England was damp. Even summer was humid, it made the hotter months uncomfortable and the winter ones almost unbearable, with it's creeping, wet cold that seeped into every crack or crevice and swirled through every seam. And this summer had felt more like winter the cold had lingered far past the dates it usually did during the spring months and the heat of summer had never really risen far. Now they were enduring an early onset of cold again. Even without snow it was miserable, with drizzle and freezing fog and pervasive, sodden, winds that could cut like a knife. He couldn't wait to get home to his modest townhouse and set the fires going.
Of all the modern conveniences available he liked the gas and electric fires the least. He had lived with open log fires so long in his many years of waiting it gave him a sense of comfort to sit with one going now. The crack of logs or coals splitting in the heat reminded him of some of the best and worst of times. And he needed that comfort today.
As a guest professor of literature at Stafford university and a private tutor for supposedly the same, he could be either comfortably well off or completely broke depending on how many students he had at any one time. The private literature classes were not always literature classes of course. His standing as a tutor of magic was not widely known, even amongst the magical community, he moved around too much in order to preserve his anonymity, but he did get several from time to time.
Magic had dwindled somewhat from the last golden age of Camelot when Gwen ruled with a gentle hand. Merlin at her right hand, those times had been nice, free in a way he had never been before. Of course he had believed just after Arthur died that he would never get over his death, or Gwaine's or Khilgarrah's. But as he had come to realise a long, long time ago, time heals most wounds. He had nothing really but time. And as the years had passed and he had finally realised the significance of his name, as he failed to age whilst those around him looked older and older and eventually passed into their final rest. He found within himself an acceptance and resignation for such a fate. He wasn't thrilled by any means, had raged at the gods who had done this to him, until he also realised that no amount of rage would make him die any quicker and gave up. One of the very few times he had ever given up on anything.
One of the newest times he felt like giving up was right about now. Megan Frier was a 19 year old spoilt brat, know it all, and was at this moment his only pupil. Her Parent's were magic users, her grandparents were magic users, her older siblings were magic users. She did not want to be one. Not if she couldn't use magic how she wanted to use it. Unfortunately she had no choice in the matter. Her powers had manifested 3 weeks ago by burning one whole wing of her parent's mansion down and causing hundreds of thousands of pounds worth of damage. Her parent's understandably were thrilled at the strength she displayed though not overly enthusiastic about where it had shown itself or the cost of replacing everything. Merlin had been drafted in as an emergency tutor to try and teach her control and it was not going well.
Megan was headstrong, stubborn, egotistical and so damned sure she was right all the time. It reminded Merlin of Arthur's earliest attitude to be honest. However Megan was unlike Arthur in the fact that he would listen on occasion. Megan never did.
Today had been worse than any of those previous. Megan had flatly refused to even try any of the exercises Merlin had set her, citing her need to rest with a headache. Merlin had taken one look at the girl's bottle strewn sitting room floor and all sympathy had fled. His no nonsense attitude had irritated the girl to such an extent it had ended in a full blown temper tantrum where the windows had exploded, resulting in Merlin's having to use magic to fix them. At least there he had been able to get through to her. She had stared rather wide eyed at his being able to cast such magic with merely a thought. He hadn't needed to use verbal spells for anything unless extremely tired or gravely injured since around the 12th century, perhaps he should mention that, it might shock her into doing as she was told for once. Merlin had no time for people who couldn't be bothered to help themselves.
At long last Merlin's gate came into view, the black sheen of the damp metal making it seem colder as he pushed it open one handed fishing in his pocket for the key he didn't really need but liked to use none the less. Gaining a habit of opening doors automatically with magic had gotten him in trouble on a few occasions and he now tried to avoid it at all costs, since the last incident had come as close to killing him as it was likely to get without actually crossing that line. The weeks of excruciating recuperation every time he came that close, were just not worth it.
The deep blue painted door gave easily and he was quickly stood in the Victorian tiled hall of his home. The coat and scarf, disposed of onto the bentwood hat rack, boots off and slippers on. He loved the invention of slippers, would live in them and a dressing gown if he had the choice, unfortunately there was no chance of it. Life did have a habit of intruding, whether he wished it or no.
The first stop was the living room and setting alight the logs laid ready with a hand wave and a flash of his eyes. The candles either side of the mantle were also lit giving a gentle glow to the otherwise deep gloom of the late October evening.
Moving through the living room, feet registering the difference between the soft cushioning of the pure silk, wool, Persian carpet and the polished wood floor as he moved to his dining kitchen. Again his eyes flashed and the fireplace roared to life. The water left purposefully in the mug on the side heated instantly to boiling and all that was left to do was place the teabag into it and let it steep for a few moments. Once the bag was disposed of he took himself back into the living room and plunked himself down in his favourite chair, feet out and crossed, spreading himself out towards where the fire had had just enough time to ward off a little of the chill.
Ah it was good to be home. Sipping his tea, mindful of its heat he could relax and spend some time contemplating his latest pupil. The blond haired brown eyed beauty was spirited, too spirited. She had an attitude of superiority that Merlin longed to wipe from her face. He had seen more in his 1500 year existence than she could possibly imagine and it irked him that she treated him like dirt beneath her shoes, believing herself better merely for being supposedly well travelled and benefitting from an extensive education. He wondered what she might say if he told her he had circumnavigated the globe more times than she had drawn breath, and on the back of a dragon no less. His education was second to none, every generation or so he would enrol on another university course in yet another city and refresh his knowledge in medicine, science, languages, history and technology. He needed something to do to keep from boredom after all. Plus he didn't know what would be required of him once Arthur did rise again, if he ever did. He was beginning to think it would never happen it had been so long and so many conflicts where Albion had been threatened.
Megan just could not grasp what magic was all about. She wanted to use it for frivolous ends. Their slow progress due mainly to Megan's insistence that she be allowed to try casting glamour's, or playing tricks on her classmates, not trying to learn the basics. She wanted results now. She did not understand that magic is a force of nature, wild and unpredictable until tamed. To be harnessed not for vanity or for laziness to do your work for you but a tool to help you achieve your goals. Every lesson lately ended in a screaming match and Megan losing control yet again. He needed a distraction and he rather thought Megan did too.
Samhain was in only a couple of days, perhaps if he could show her how it was supposed to be celebrated. Instead of the commercialised interpretation of Halloween she had only seen thus far he would take her to a druid ceremony, show her how magic and nature came together in harmony, she may see for herself what wonders magic could do if used properly. There were few druids left now, the religious practices of such groups slowly dying out, but there was one clan left near Glastonbury and he had an open invitation from their leader to join them for the festivals. He would petition Megan's parents in the morning.
Decision made and feeling more weary than hungry, Merlin finished his now tepid tea, deposited his mug in the sink and made his way to bed, feeling partially better about his options.