A Little Help
Merlin knew it was useless. He couldn't go on, there was no way he would be able to reach help in the state he was currently in. The heavy rock that trapped his legs was probably not causing any real damage, as he could still wiggle his feet and toes, but there was no way he could lift it, not even with his magic.
Gedref was an enchanted place, the very air had the smell and taste of ancient magic. The sky, the ground, every tree and rock breathed it, and it always had an extremely powerful pull on Merlin. It wasn't near Camelot though, so he couldn't visit it very often.
A week ago the chance suddenly arrived when Arthur had given him time off. Well, it wasn't exactly like that. Arthur and some of his trusty knights got an invitation from Lord Godwyn to visit the kingdom of Gawant, and Merlin hadn't been allowed to come along.
At first this had irritated him to no end. What if something would happen to Arthur? Of course Gawant was a peaceful place, or so Gaius had assured him a dozen times already. The choice to go on a trip himself had been the most logical next step. So, Gedref it was. A magical destination.
But, and it really was no surprise with him being so clumsy, as he'd walked along a narrow path on a hillside, captured by a beautiful sunset just over the horizon, the dirt and rocks under his feet had disappeared, and Merlin had toppled off the hill. Lucky for him this hill wasn't very steep, but a big rock had become loose, and it fell down with him, rolling onto his legs. It had efficiently trapped him to the ground.
Of course he'd been lucky it hadn't fallen on his head instead, but the panic that had instantly overtook his senses because he couldn't move, had been overwhelming. His first instinct had been magical. As always, the energizing fizzle inside of him had come to the surface while he had pushed the rock away with both hands. It only took a surprising scary moment to register that nothing had happened. The rock was still firmly in place.
So, there he was, in the middle of nowhere, stuck under a rock that was unmovable, without any magic to help him out. He feverishly wondered why his magic wasn't working. Gedref, being a magical place and all. It should work. It should do more than work. He'd been practicing his magic every night for almost three years now, aided by his book of spells. Lifting things was so elementary to him. It not working was impossible.
He touched the rock again, and felt ancient magic coming of it in streams of anguish, which made him recoil from it. That wasn't possible, a rock couldn't be hurt, it was just a rock, a thing. Deep down he knew this wasn't the case. A little voice in the back of his head telling him this very rock was magical, and this was what kept it firmly in place. Nothing was obvious and normal in Gedref, and he should have remembered that.
But if his magic couldn't move this rock, what could? He couldn't move it physically, he just wasn't strong enough. He was all alone, and no one knew exactly where he was. Merlin certainly was in big trouble now, and he felt frustration bubbling up at his hopeless state, followed by a certain fear when his toes went numb.
To make matters worse, the sun had set and it was getting darker, and cold. He had lost his backpack with supplies during the fall, and squinting around he saw it lying not far away, but just out of reach. If he couldn't move the rock with magic, could he use it to levitate his pack towards him? There was only one way to find out as he reached out a hand and cast the spell.
To his relief, the backpack instantly came sailing through the air, landing in a heap of sand next to his head. At least he had food and water now, but his worries were far from over. How long would he be able to be stuck like this before his legs would give up on him? He was no physician, but he may not ever be able to use them again if he didn't get out from under this stupid rock.
"Damn it!"
The curse bounced off the hills surrounding him, coming back like he'd just shouted into a well. Gathering all of his will, he pushed at the rock, again, and again. Clawing at it like a maniac at some point, he didn't know how long, until his hands got raw and his fingers were almost bleeding. And still, the rock didn't budge. It kept him firmly in place, while his exhausted body screamed at him to take some rest. To try again later. Merlin gasped for air when he finally lay back, tears welling up in his eyes that he angrily wiped away.
He had no idea of time when he heard a noise that he recognised as the sound of hooves. A horse. Maybe someone from Camelot had found him? No, that couldn't be. They didn't even know where he was, and Gaius wouldn't search either, as he hadn't been away long enough for his mentor to get really worried. He sure hoped it wasn't something or someone dangerous.
Merlin blinked in astonishment when a unicorn appeared out of nowhere. It still wasn't fully dark, so it was clear enough to see its prominent horn. He, of course, had seen unicorns before, but never one like this. For one, it wasn't very tall, maybe still a very young one, but what stood out the most; the animal wasn't white. It was black as coal.
He had heard Gaius tell stories about black unicorns. That the black unicorn was a sign of dark magic and evil. An unearthly apparition, as Gaius would call it, spawned by the swamps of Venlaken. That it would lure people into bogs and have them drowned. Well, he was already stuck under a rock, so what more could such an evil creature want from him?
When it approached, not in the least frightened, Merlin held his breath. It didn't look dangerous at all. It actually looked rather peaceful and calm, so he decided to wait, before he even tried to use magic to make it go away. It felt right in a way, and he couldn't explain why that was. Almost as if she needed him as much as he needed her right now. Her, the unicorn was a mare, he knew.
The black unicorn nudged him with her soft nose, and he automatically reached up to touch. When he did, there was a current of beautiful magic flowing from her, into his arm. He almost pulled back, stunned, as if something had stung him. But the reassuring pushes made him touch her again, very slowly, with just one finger. When he did, the image of a moving rock was formed in his mind, and he knew what she wanted instantly. She was here to rescue him.
Firmly placing one arm on her bend head, he reached out to the rock with his other. He knew that one touch would be enough, or he would blow the rock half way across Gedref. When his fingertip came into contact with its surface, there was a deep surge, almost a roar going through his whole body. Bracing himself, with the unicorn a steady presence next to him, the rock lifted itself up into the air and toppled over and away from the both of them. He was free. The black unicorn had saved him. It had been her magic that moved the rock. Well, their combined magic perhaps. But it had worked and he was grateful.
The feeling didn't last long when pain rushed into his lower body and legs. He bit his lip, and as much as he tried, he couldn't stop a whimper from escaping his mouth. He still couldn't move his legs. They were starting to sting and throb, even started an involuntary spasm that rushed down to his feet, but he couldn't stand up. He had no strength, at all.
The unicorn nudged him again, and because of the pain he could barely stop his first impulse of pushing her away. She was one persistent young horse though, when she whinnied at him, nudging somewhat harder for him to stop being such a baby and stand. He smirked to himself, suddenly hearing Arthur's voice in his mind, telling him the same. Stop being such a girl, Merlin.
That thought gave him energy, and hope. This horse would take him home, even in darkness, she would find her way, as close near Camelot as she dared to go. It was as if she was connected to his very soul. Two magical entities becoming one, and Merlin knew, he wouldn't let her down.
He reached, grabbed her manes, and lifted himself up. His still numb legs didn't want to support him at first, but he wasn't going to give up. Her magical presence was so strong, so beautiful, that he stood, even though very wobbly, on his own two feet a moment later, pulling himself up onto her back. Exhaustion overtook him once more as he bend over, holding on to those soft manes, whispering a thank you in her ear.
A buzz of soft words drifted into Merlin's sleepy mind. It sounded like the unicorn, but he couldn't be certain. As they left Gedref behind, he was almost certain it was his imagination.
"You are most welcome, young Warlock."
The End