Short Story Merlin/Teen Wolf Crossover
Merlin knew he couldn't die. How did he know this? Well, lets just say it was proven. And you wanna know the best part He had to die and come back to life without a scratch to realize this little piece of information.
It all happened years ago, about a few centuries ago. He wasn't that old at the time, around 25 years of age. Merlin ended up running into a group of bandits in the woods. With barely even a twitch of a finger and a flash of the eyes, he had them all on the ground, weaponless. He held out a hand in warning.
He stopped as soon as he saw one of the men, a big, burly man, flick his dark eyes over Merlin's shoulder. That's when he knew. He just knew that there was someone with malicious intent behind him. But instead of defending himself, he lowed his hand and stood there with baited breath.
The sharp pain sliding into his back and spreading though his insides dominated his thoughts, spots appearing in his vision. He slowly looked down and saw the tip of the rusty sword though his gut. It slid out and he let out a mix between a choked sob and a sigh before falling to the forest floor.
He knew he would have defended himself. Hell, he's taken down larger threats like Morgana. But Merlin didn't want to save himself. He was tired, exhausted of living. It had been 5 years since the Battle of Camlann, since Arthur and Gwaine's death.
So he let that stranger stab him in the back. He let his death happen. He welcomed death. He just didn't care anymore. Blackness filled his vision, the pain slowly numbed. A lone tear streaked down his cheek as everything disappeared
He woke up hours later, choking and gasping for breath. His back and stomach was damp and crusty with blood and all the items he didn't hide were gone like his money.
Merlin cried the most he could ever remember in his 25 or so years of life. He realized immediately what it meant. He couldn't die, ever. He was immortal. He knew what his druid name, Emrys, meant, but it was still a shock to die and come back to life like that.
For hundreds of years after his first death, he led many lives with many identities. Magic made it easy to create new lives and disguise himself. Even though he never aged since Camlann, he had aging spells.
He studied every language he encountered and many fields in the magical and nonmagical subjects. He accomplished many feats and graduated many schools. Every magical tome, every magical trinket and piece of information on the Old Religion was placed in his home.
Hidden in California in America, even though it wasn't called that when he first settled there, he had a castle. Its style was based off of Camelot's castle and made of conjured similar materials, he made it feel like home. Anything pure and magical, creatures of the Old Religion included, could seek refuge there and anything nonmagical cannot see it.
The decline of the Old Religion depressed Merlin. It got so bad after the witch hunts that rarely anyone is born with the gift of magic and people stopped believing it.
Around the late 1990's, around a century since his birth, Merlin found something that could answer his prayers. It was a thick, leather covered tome. The feeling he got, a tingling sensation in his fingertips, let him know that the magic preserved the ancient book.
He found a spell, one that is of reincarnation. Merlin knew he could never truly die, he was the embodiment of magic. But maybe he could be reborn. Researching the spell, he found that the person reborn most likely would forget everything. He was fine with that. He didn't care anymore. He wanted to forget all the pain in his life.
Going to the Isle of the Blessed, he spoke the words of the Old Religion as he laid on the stone table. Merlin's eyes flared a brilliant gold as he plunged a dagger into his heart. Blood pooled onto the stone bed and dripped to the ground. Vacant blue eyes stared upwards. Slowly but surely, his body glowed a brilliant bluish white before disappearing. The only evidence of what occurred there being the crimson blood. Cruel red stained the stone.
His soul, made of the purest of magic, went to a couple of pure heart that were truly in love. A baby formed in the womb of the woman. 9 months passed and a baby boy with whiskey colored eyes and a tuft of dark brown hair upon his head was born into the world. Claudia and John Stilinski were the happiest they could be.