Another part of Eternal Cycle! And yet another Merlin Cycle. I recommend you read the first Cycle 'Massacre Managing' to get an idea of what's going on.
If you don't then here's some terminology that might or might not show up in this story:
Cyclist: A person who repeatedly gets born into different worlds.
Cycle: One life for a Cyclist.
Can Cycle: Cycle with canon story and next to no changes. It doesn't matter what time it starts.
Trick Cycle: Cycle with story differences, small or big. They have to be noticeable.
Mix Cycle: Cycle with two or more stories somehow combined. Crossover.
Trace: The first Cyclist. A girl, most of the time.
Rina: Trace's other-self/inner-self/first-self.
Drew: Trace's sibling/brother.
Frisk: Trace's sibling. Gender neutral.
That's about all. I think. Enjoy!
CYCLE 172 055:
Mix Cycle, Merlin.
Merlin and Hunith didn't really fit in. Ealdor was too small for them to not stand out as a mother with a child and no father. An illegitimate child was frowned upon, even without strange happenings always tailing him. They were a little more than outsiders, though everyone tended to ignore it because no matter what they were they were good people.
But because of that Merlin grew up with next to no friends and more bullies.
Then, as a five-year-old, he stumbled into a small girl in the forest. She looked battered and dirty, not that unlike to Merlin himself but worse, and had a white dog supporting her. The greenest eyes he had ever seen looked to him with a tired hope. She reached out, a plea for help, and who was Merlin to refuse as he felt compassion and his magic wanted to do it and more?
Keep the magic secret, keep the magic secret…, his mother's mantra rang in his ears even as he reached for the small girl and grabbed her hand.
A wavering smile crossed the little child's lips before she collapsed on her dog who whimpered in fear and concern. Merlin was already hoisting the brown haired girl up, magic swirling and checking if she was okay. His eyes shone with worry. Then he stopped as the dog changed in front of his wide eyes. It turned into a brown deer or- or- Merlin didn't know what but it had horns and a strange pink hat with a white 'x'. And a blue nose. It had to be magic. Or he didn't know what was. It knelt down.
"Get on!", it said and Merlin started, questioning how an animal could talk, "It'll be faster. She has a bad fever. Can you take us to your mother?"
"Y- Yes!", he remembered having a fever. It wasn't fun. Hastily he pushed the girl on the deer thing and climbed behind her shakily.
"Hold on to my horns", his ride instructed, "Where to?"
Merlin gave directions until they were at the edge of the forest where the 'magic is secret' promise got him thinking.
"I'll get Mother!", he told the deer and wiggled down as it complied, shooting a worried glance at the girl.
Hunith was inside and mending clothes when her son barged in and babbled about a dog and a girl and a deer that wasn't and how they needed help and there was a fever. However much she didn't understand she got that someone was ill and needed her meager physician training. Rushing outside with a blanket and Merlin leading she only paused once at the unconscious little girl riding a white dog before leaping into action.
In minutes they got her into Merlin's little bed and a wet cloth on her forehead to wipe the sweat away. The boy himself was peering worriedly at her, hand fisted in her mother's hem.
"Mother? Is she going to be okay?", he asked.
Hunith didn't answer. She had no answer.
Suddenly the white dog sighed before turning into a giant frog with a short white beard and hair. Hunith jumped in fright. Merlin blinked innocently. Then the frog started talking. In a voice belonging to a young human child.
"She has pneumonia", he (probably a he) stated and clarified at the little boy's confused look, "Lung fever. I can cure her if you would lend some paper and ink. Actually, I can do without ink. Just some paper. Please!"
Hunith unfroze and took Merlin a bit further away from the two strangers. She hurriedly took paper from somewhere and gave it to the frog with shaking hands. Both mother and son watched intently as the frog bit his… thumb. The frog had thumbs. And hands.
It/He/She then proceeded to draw on paper with blood. Merlin tried to get closer to see what but was stopped by his Mother. It didn't take long before the frog… or dog or deer… deemed whatever he was doing ready and put the thing on the girl. Only Merlin felt the brief pass of power as the drawings on the paper glowed and the girl's breathing got easier. The frog sighed in relief before turning into a miniature of the deer it had been.
"Who- Who are you?", Hunith asked, still trembling a little and keeping a hand on Merlin's shoulder.
The deer smiled gratefully at them, "My name is Rina. A shapeshifter and familiar of Willow here", the apparently she carefully pet the little girl's brown and sweaty locks, "Her family was murdered by bandits a month ago. We've been trying to find safety since… With Uther hunting anything remotely magical that's a bit hard. Willow felt your son's strong magic this way and we came in hopes of help… Don't worry, she's probably the only one who can", the blue nosed deer turned to them with shining eyes, "Thank you for saving us"
With every word Hunith relaxed until she smiled softly at the little Willow who had seeked out her son. Merlin's eyes were wide as he stared at the girl in awe. He couldn't remember a time another child had wanted his help especially. He moved to her bedside and touched her cheek lightly. She leaned into it with a content sigh, shallow breathing having eased out with that maybe-a-spell.
The little boy smiled, "Willow. Don't worry. I'll always help"
And that promise would last for a lifetime and longer. (Depending on point of view)
That day, although quite unknowingly, Hunith and Merlin signed themselves up for a crazy life. Really, a shapeshifting animal with freaky healing powers should've clued them in.
xXXx
Frisk was wandering around in the woods with no corporeal form. They were a spirit of wind, born of magic and tied to freedom and the life of their siblings. They had appeared about a year ago and now went around aimlessly in search of the plot… or their sister and brother. Then they saw a familiar looking man. They just couldn't remember where from.
But that probably meant they found the plot so they followed. He apparently lived in a cave. After a full day of following him they came to a conclusion.
Kind of a boring life. And lonely. Frisk should liven it up a bit.
Taking a form as a blue haired twin ponytailed wind girl she materialized in his cave just as he was waking up. She could switch forms with any random character that could use wind as their powers. Right now her favourite was Wendy from Fairy Tail.
"Hi!", she chirped.
The man was in a fighting stance in an instant. She cocked her head cutely and smiled. Neither of them moved for a while. Finally the man relaxed his stance though his eyes remained narrowed at the possible threat.
"Who are you?", his voice was gruff from disuse and that made it more threatening.
She wasn't threatened at all.
"I'm a wind spirit! You can call me Wendy", she was still smiling, "What's your name?"
He didn't answer. Rude. But understandable.
"Why are you here?", he asked, still very suspicious.
Wendy decided to be theatrical. A drama queen if you will. She gave a long sigh and flopped down into a sitting position, her strange white dress (for this time) fluttering down with her. She disliked having only panties under it so she had light blue leggings. Her pout was downright adorable.
"I was bored. And you seemed interesting", her hopeful eyes looked up.
His eyebrows rose in disbelief. They stared at each other for a long moment before the other just snorted, irritated, and walked away. Wendy stood and started after him.
"Wait!", she shouted and started walking at his side, "I'll go with you"
The man gave her an annoyed frown, "Go away. I don't want you here"
She paused for a moment before running to his side again and refusing to leave. The man tried and tried, again and again to get rid of her but not actually trying to hurt her. It went on for days. In return she helped him around and cleaned up after him, scolded him for not taking care of himself, told jokes and stories and generally was a good little sister or daughter figure. He tried to scare her, make her lose his trail, ignore her and other things before finally snapping and glaring at her hard.
"Why are you here!?", he shouted.
This time Wendy turned to him with all seriousness. She still hadn't figured out his name.
"You looked lonely", she stated making him pause and really look at her for once. Something flashed in his eyes, a pain he had buried deep inside. He looked contemplating before his shoulders finally sagged and he let out a huff of amusement. Seeing resignation to her company, Wendy grinned.
"Well, there was also this fact that you looked familiar and I didn't know where from", her grin vanished with a look of exasperation and matter-of-fact, "And seriously. Your life was so boring. I decided to help"
With that he started laughing. A deep laugh from inside his center. He was so incredulous that this really was the reason a wind spirit of all things was following him around. And he had to admit she really managed to make his life more interesting. And better if he were honest. It had been such a long time since he laughed! Years in fact. He had thought he would never laugh again and Wendy had made him do just that in only a week and some days.
He smiled fondly at the strange blue haired girl, "Balinor"
She did that cute head tilt that would have grown men want to squeeze the life out of her for being so adorable. Not that he'd ever say that. It'd go to her head.
"My name is Balinor", he said again.
Now her mouth formed an 'oh' of realization and she grinned widely. Their strange father/daughter relationship started from there. And Wendy would get him to do something more interesting than surviving from day to day and hiding. That was a promise.
xXXx
Prince Arthur was good with a sword. For an eight-year-old. Well, it was more like a wooden sword 'cause apparently he wasn't ready to get a real one.
He had snuck out of his lessons again to watch the knights practicing. This time was a bit different, though. Because there was a child his age clashing swords with them. Against adult knights. The blade was like nothing he had seen before though he couldn't make it out that well in the heat of battle.
The unthinkable happened. It wasn't the knight, Sir Gildan, that won but the brownish orange haired boy.
Said boy seathed his blade and offered the knight a hand with a grin, "It was a good fight, Sir Knight"
A roaring laughter seared through the group as the boy was patted on the head and congratulated. Sir Gildan seemed to have bruised his pride but was smiling nevertheless. Arthur was still watching from his hiding place with wide eyes.
"You have a knack for the sword. What style are you using? It's nothing I recognize", asked one of them.
He grinned, "It's from Japan. They call it Hiten Mitsurugi-ryu, Flying Heavenly Sword Style", he pulled the blade out a bit, "I'm using a reverse blade. It's not suited for killing, but I protect myself fairly well either way"
Sir Gildan muttered something about nothing being fair as the knights laughed again. Arthur had had enough of hiding and walked out of his hiding place with princely steps. Some would call it arrogant, though the little blond was unaware of that. The other boy noticed his approach first and raised an eyebrow.
Suddenly Arthur was reminded of Gaius and wanted to back off. But that wouldn't be princely at all. So he swallowed silently and pointed to him.
"You!", he demanded, "What is your name?"
The eyebrow rose further, "It is rude to point", he said mildly before answering, "I'm Andrew"
"Where did you learn to fight?"
"Japan", was the unhesitating answer but he didn't elaborate.
There was a long pause as Arthur looked him up and down. He came to a decision.
"I want you to teach me"
Another eyebrow joined the first. It was Andrew's turn to assess the little prince. All the knights were now staring at the two like they had grown two heads. They almost held their breath as they waited for the boy's answer. He shrugged.
"Fine", he agreed, "When will you have time?"
Tension bled out of the eight-year-old's shoulders, "In the afternoons"
Andrew hummed in thought and then grinned lightly.
"I'll come here on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays at four. That okay?"
And that was how Arthur got a teacher. A ten-year-old teacher. From another country. That sometimes snuck him out of Camelot to practice in the woods. Though sometimes the practice got forgotten when they started playing games or some other such. Challenging the other to do feats and testing their endurance. Andrew always won.
It was only when the older boy told him to call him Drew that Arthur realized he'd made a friend.
xXXx
Another Cycle just sitting on my computer. It should be another multi-chapter one but I won't promise anything spectacular... Hopefully I get more out sometime.