Author's Note: This is in response to a writing challenge posed by Nyala Necheyev: exploring the afterlife in Sorcerer's Apprentice. Nyala, I hope you like it.
Gray
He hadn't expected everything to be so … gray.
He hadn't known what to expect, really, but out of everything he'd ever imagined for the afterlife, gray hadn't been a part of the equation. And he'd certainly spent more than his fair share of time pondering the afterlife.
Sorcerers, by their very nature, were long-lived, and since their magic tended to lend them a certain invulnerability, they didn't often tend to worry about death. As a young man, he'd thought himself immortal, but he hadn't considered what it would really entail.
The spell Merlin had cast had essentially frozen him in time, preventing him from ageing. He'd been hoping, foolishly, perhaps, that those years that he would have gained would have just disappeared, but he'd been wrong. The stolen years had piled up like an unstable stack of blocks, ready to tumble at any second.
And over the years, he'd begun to realize that finding the Prime Merlinian wasn't just important for stopping Morgana and saving the world; he needed the powers of Merlin's heir to release him from his spell, to keep all those bound years from descending on him all at once. To keep him from crumbling into dust.
He'd tried, for a while, to not think about what the spell had done to him. He'd thrown himself into finding the Prime Merlinian, letting the search consume him until it had become an obsession. He'd distanced himself from people, from life, letting the world pass him by for centuries.
And then he'd met Dave. The special child he'd been seeking for nearly a thousand years had walked into his life and turned everything upside down. He'd lost ten years, thanks to Horvath, but then he and Dave had picked up where they'd left off, and he found himself being dragged back into the real world by the boy.
For the first time in a long time, he'd found himself considering his own mortality. Not in the detached, abstract way he'd looked at it, before, but actually thinking about what it would be like to die. To finally rest, to have his worries taken from him one last time.
But, that was before he actually had died.
To put this experience in Dave's words, this dull, nothingness sucked. He was surrounded by a colorless, shapeless mist, and he was completely alone. And, while he normally considered himself a calm person, the lack of anything was starting to get on his nerves.
"Hello?" he shouted, frustrated when absolutely nothing continued to happen. "Is there anyone there?"
He felt foolish, talking to himself, but it was either that or go crazy. He used to revel in silence; now it felt like it was drowning out even the sound of his own voice.
"Hello?" he shouted, again, and then the mists started to move, forming a doorway of light.
A figure stepped out of the mists, and Balthazar wasn't particularly surprised to see his old mentor come into view. Merlin looked young like he must have in the prime of his life, but he still radiated power. He was a splash of color in a gray world, and Balthazar had never been more happy to see anyone in his life.
He was surprised when Merlin moved forward and embraced him, warmly, but he returned the hug, feeling the older man's arms tight around him.
"I've waited a long time for you, Balthazar," Merlin told him. "If you're here, then you've finally succeeded in the quest I set for you?"
"I found your heir," Balthazar replied. "The one who carries on your bloodline."
"And, is he worthy?" Merlin asked. "Has he finally defeated Morgana?"
Merlin's words brought everything back in a rush, and the memories of what he'd left behind slammed into him with the force of a freight train. This gray place had dulled everything, including his memories, but now he remembered everything with crystal clarity.
"He's still fighting," he said, slowly, dread in his voice. "He's still back there, fighting Morgana. He's all alone."
"As he always had to be," Merlin said. "He was always the only one who could defeat Morgana, you know that."
"But, I thought I'd be there," Balthazar argued. "He's only been training for a few days; he's not ready for this."
"He'll be ready, or he'll die," Merlin pointed out. "This is his testing ground; he must prove himself worthy of his power."
Balthazar tried to protest, again, but Merlin stopped him with an upraised hand.
"You have fulfilled your duty, Balthazar," he said, quietly. "This is no longer your fight. It is time for you to rest."
Merlin had that commanding look in his eye, and there was a time when Balthazar would have obeyed him without question. But that was before he'd met Dave. Before he'd discovered the boy who would save the world, the boy who'd become like a son to him in such a short time. Before he'd discovered what it was like to truly live, again.
Merlin must have mistaken his silence for something else, because he laughed and gestured at the gray mists that surrounded them.
"Did you really think that this was all there was to it?" he asked. "My boy, what awaits you after your long journey is more glorious than you can ever imagine. A place with no pain, no fear, no worries. Only peace and happiness for the rest of eternity."
He was tempted, so sorely tempted, to take Merlin up on his offer. There was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to lie down and let his burdens be taken away. He'd lived for over a thousand years, he'd sacrificed so much to fight Morgana and her followers. If anyone deserved the peace of the heavens, it was him.
But, something was holding him back. Something that he couldn't put a name to was keeping him here, in this place, keeping him from finding that peace.
Frustrated, he paced away from Merlin, moving further into the mists. He'd wanted to be alone with his thoughts, but he realized, the deeper into the mists he went, that he could hear voices. Indistinct at first, but growing more clear by the second.
"Okay, pal, here we go," and that was definitely Dave's voice.
He felt a pressure on his chest, like someone was pressing down on his ribs. He looked down, instinctively, but there was nothing there.
Then, a few seconds later, a jolt of blinding-white heat ran through him. He was stunned senseless, and when he could breathe, again, he realized that he'd been electrocuted. When the ringing in his ears cleared, he heard Dave, again, but now he sounded angry, fearful, and not a little bit desperate.
"You don't get to do this to me!" the boy cried, and another painful shock ran through his body. "You and all your stupid rules, and your practicing, and your old man shoes-"
Balthazar smirked at the familiar diatribe, but then he turned around when he sensed Merlin coming up behind him. The older man cocked an eyebrow at the sound of Dave's ranting.
"-you constantly saving me with that look in your eyes!" and a third shock ran through him.
"Come with me," Merlin said, but Balthazar shook his head. "Leave all of this behind," the sorcerer entreated, but there was a strange look in his eyes that made Balthazar suspicious.
"I can't," he said, quietly, finally realizing what, or who, was so stubbornly holding him to life. "I can't go with you, Merlin."
"You'd go back to a life of pain?" Merlin asked, archly. "You'd choose loss and sorrow over an eternity of peace? My boy, I thought I taught you better than that."
"Merlin did," Balthazar said, as his suspicions were confirmed. "But, you are most definitely not Merlin."
The man standing before him laughed, shifting until he was less human and more like the mists that surrounded them. The shadow-remnant of Morgana's magic circled him, like a cat playing with a mouse, and Balthazar kept a wary eye on its progress.
"How did you figure it out?" the shade hissed, its form constantly shifting as the mists swirled around it.
"Merlin was always pushing me to be better," Balthazar snapped, his eyes never leaving the shade. "Even in death, he would have challenged me. He never would have let me rest in peace."
"It's no matter," the shade said, tracking him with the dark whorls of smoke that marked where its eyes would have been. "You can't help your boy, here."
"You can't hurt me," Balthazar shot back. "If you could, you would have done so by now."
"You're still stuck here," the shade taunted him. "And if you stay here, you'll go mad watching as everyone you care about is killed."
'If I stay here,' Balthazar repeated to himself, silently, thinking he could see a loophole in the shade's words.
"I wasn't lying, you know," the shade went on, oblivious to his thoughts. "Through that doorway really is an eternity of peace for you. Much as I might want to, I'm not strong enough to drag you to Hell."
"Which means you're not strong enough to stop me, whatever I choose," Balthazar said, sensing fury rolling off the shade at his words.
"What are you talking about?" the shade growled, and Balthazar smirked.
"I choose life, and all its pain, and grief, and joy, and wonder," he said, fiercely, watching as the shade seemed to shrink before him. As the sound of Dave's voice drowned out the shade's threats, he added, "I choose him."
Turning, he ran further into the mists, running away from the shade and toward the sound of Dave's voice. There was a light in the distance, this one different than the doorway the shade had come from, and the closer he got, the louder Dave's voice got.
He could sense the shade coming up behind him, and he ran faster, toward the light. The shade's insubstantial fingers brushed against the back of his neck just as he leapt for the light. A final shock jolted through his body as he passed through the light, and then he opened his eyes to see Dave staring down at him, his dark eyes wide with amazement.
"I had a dream," he rasped, coughing to clear the hoarseness from his voice. "You were insulting me. Repeatedly."
"Who, me?" Dave said, trying for lighthearted, but Balthazar could still hear the relief in his tone. "Never. Must have been someone else."
"Must have," Balthazar agreed, and he felt his arms moving around Dave in a tight hug as the boy slumped over to rest his forehead on his shoulder.
Dave had his free arm resting across Balthazar's chest in a hug, and then he straightened up, clasping Balthazar's arms as he stood up. He pulled Balthazar up with him, and when he was on his feet, Dave pressed something into his hand, curling his fingers around it in a loose fist. Opening his hand, Balthazar saw the necklace that he'd gotten for Veronica so long ago.
"I kept this safe for you," Dave said, softly. "Welcome back."