Chapter 2: Order to Chaos
Seven Years Later…
Merlin would have liked to have said that he was a good and brave man. Or at least, a forgiving one. Too many times he had been tested or tried, and too many times had he proved himself to be less than who he wished to me. He wished to right wrongs. He wished to protect the innocent. He wished to forgive and forget and move on with his life. But if he could do nothing today. If he could not set right this wrong. If he had to sit here and watch this monstrosity take place, then he would certainly never forget. And he did not plan of forgiving either. 'I will do it. I will burn this place to the ground.' He told himself as he watched the axe fall and Thomas James Collins' head rolled in the city square of Camelot.
This is where it all started.
The spires of that harsh castle pierced through the treeline and upwards into the sky. A violent sight, almost. Banners flew from the highest towers, red and gold and streaming in the wind. From the village of houses and shops that huddled around the castle walls, smoke drifted and rose into the air. With the clouds of smoke surrounding the castle and the red banners against a red sunset, the very city looked fiery and caustic. Did it all sit on some great vent of hell? Or was it hell itself?
Merlin let his pack drop to the grass and sat down right there on the hill above the city. How did it come to this? How did he, Merlin, find himself here of all places? This is where it all started. This was where magic was brought to die. Was that his fate too? A wind picked up and a few pieces of long grass tickled his cheek. Merlin sat there a little longer, watching the ant-like people down in the city move about. He finally picked himself up again, shouldered his pack, and continued on down the road, to the gates of Camelot.
No, this was definitely hell.
Merlin watched the man dragged through the city square and brought to the platform in the center. He could only just see over the crowd. The King spoke long and self-righteously about the evil that had long plagued this land and how he, through his edicts and efforts, had brought the kingdom from chaos to law and order. The King droned on and on. The herd of people listened, drank in every word.
The man was made to kneel. Chaos to order? His head was pushed down until his neck rested on the chopping block. Order to chaos, more like. The executioner raised his axe.
There were a million and one things that Merlin knew he could do to save the man. But he would not do any of them. He watched the axe rise. And fall. He made himself watch. This was the price he had to pay. Either watch the axe rise and fall, or feel it on your own neck instead. Merlin shuddered.
He would see this place burn.
"There is only one evil in this land, and it is not magic!"
Merlin followed the crowd's stares. An old crone yelled up at the King, shaking and pale.
"It is you! With your hatred and ignorance! You took my son!"
Merlin's eyes flicked back to the body for a moment, lingering on the blood that stained the platform now. Her son. His thoughts rested on his mother, Hunith, and what she would do or say if he were captured and executed. She had said many times, she had said it with the fright in her eyes and the grip of her hand on his shoulder, that for him to be killed this way was her greatest fear. That his secret should be found out, laid bare, and he would be paraded about the streets and his death celebrated. A stinging at the back of his throat and the quick taste of bile. Merlin swallowed hard. Her son. This could be his mother. And he could be that man. That stupid man.
"And I promise you, before these celebrations are over, you will share my tears. And eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a son for a son!" The old crone spat her words up to the King. And before any guards could rush forward to seize her, she disappeared in a puff of wind and foul smelling smoke. Merlin wrinkled his nose. It was a little dramatic, but at least she had more sense than her dead son.
Merlin knew that he stood there a long time after the crowd had mostly dispersed. After the body had been taken away. He finally looked up again to the balcony where the King had stood and proclaimed. The red of the banners was so bright and full that when a wind passed through and the cloth waved back and forth it looked like the balcony was on fire. Flames seemed to lick the castle walls.
If only, Merlin wished.
"Where could I find Gaius, the Court Physician?"
The guard pointed him down a corridor and Merlin thanked him and followed the direction. He found some narrow stairs, a sign pointing down another corridor, and another set of stairs. He followed them all up then pushed through the half open door into a wall of scent. Herbs, green or dry, hung from the stone walls, giving off all manner of odors. Things that bubbled and smoked over a fire emitted vapors and fumes. The smells of this workshop were so thick he could almost swim through it. And so many of the aromas reminded him of his days spent hunched over a cauldron or cataloging potions for… well, wasn't worth remembering now, was it? He sighed. So many familiar things and yet all together it was alien.
Merlin soon noticed he was just standing in the room and had been doing so for some time. He should probably do something. Say something. He shook his head and peered around. No one to be seen. He heard a rustling from above. He looked up. An old man was puttering above on the staircase above, shifting papers, looking through books. Merlin smiled. That must be Gaius.
"Hello?" He tried to get the old physician's attention. Nothing. Must be hard of hearing. "Gaius!"
And of course the old man tripped. And he fell back. And the railing broke.
Merlin swore under his breath before raising his hand and hissing a few words. It was a spell he was working on and it was not quite perfected yet, simply because, as he soon saw, it still did not work as he intended.
The physician's fall was slowed for only a moment and his body hung there, hovering, before the charm began to wear off. The spell sputtered, threatening to drop the old man again. Suspended there, falling in slow motion, must have been a little frightening. The old man was talking nonsense. He was saying something much akin to 'Oh my goodness!' and 'What's going on!?'
But Merlin wasn't listening. "Damn." He muttered. Still needed some work on that spell. But that did not help him now.
Merlin looked around. What to do? What to do? The bed! Just there, in the corner.
Merlin reached out and called it to him. It slid across the stone floor quite loudly, but arrived just below the old man as the charm wore off and he fell. Right into the blankets, bouncing a little. Merlin sighed and let his hand fall. Stupid, but unavoidable. What else could he have done? Hopefully, the old man would not-
"What did you just do?" The physician sat up in the bed, red in the face.
"Uh." Merlin fumbled through his mind for the right spell.
The old man was fighting his way out of the blankets, finally standing up. "Tell me!"
Well, that was a little demanding. And rude, maybe. Merlin just shrugged. "I have no idea what happened." And he had just now remembered the charm he may need to make this problem disappear.
"If-" Gaius looked around the room. "If anyone had seen that!" He hissed and looked up to where the balcony railing above was broken.
He hated this charm. Absolutely hated it. Avoided it like the plague. And no one wanted the plague. The plague was terrible. Maybe he could talk his way out of it. Maybe? Merlin looked up at the broken railing too, trying his best to look surprised as well. "No, ahm, that was, it was nothing to do with me. Strange, right? It was like-"
"I know what it was!"
Merlin's head whipped around. Yes, well, there was no talking himself out of it now. Dread settled in his stomach.
The old man continued. "I just want to know where you learned how to do it!"
Gaius was staring Merlin down. Not a quiver. The old physician was not frightened. He was determined. And though he seemed harmless enough, Merlin could not risk it. If he did, he put himself and his whole mission in jeopardy. And he put Hogwarts in danger too. He was not about to do that again. Merlin opened his mouth.
"Where did you study?!" Gaius demanded.
Merlin sighed. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." He answered and raised his hand a little. His fingers twitched.
Gaius frowned. "What?"
"Obliviate!"
"Oh…" The old man rubbed his eyes then spotted the youth that stood before him. "I'm sorry, I must have, well, no matter. Who are you?"
The black haired boy held out his hand to the physician. "I'm Merlin, Hunith's son." He grinned but let the smile go as soon as they finished shaking hands.
"How nice, um, was I expecting you?" The old man smiled and sat down on one of the many stools in the chamber. "I'm sorry, my memory is not what it once was."
The dark-haired boy with the slightly over-large ears shrugged. "Mother suggested I come and see you, since I was thinking about learning about healing people and stuff."
"Ah, wonderful." The physician reached out and patted the boy's arm. "It is a rewarding profession." He looked the boy up and down. "But you do look so familiar…you must be Hunith's boy, that's why you remind me of someone. Anyway, I am happy to have an apprentice. Goodness knows I need all the help I can get."
Hunith's son nodded and gave that strange quick grin again. "Thank you, you won't regret it. I'll work hard."
"I have no doubt." The old man stood up again. "It just so happens I have an extra room, over here…" And he stopped and frowned suddenly. "How did my bed get here?"
"Merlin…"
Merlin's eyes snapped open. A ceiling. That ceiling above him. No stars, no storm clouds, no falling snow, no expanse of sky above him. He was finally sleeping under a ceiling again. He sighed. That's right, he was in Camelot, bunking with the Court Physician. The morning sunlight, or at least he hoped it was morning, was falling across his face and he squinted, sitting up. He could hear someone clattering about in the next room. Probably Gaius. He had never met his uncle before but the man seemed to fit all the descriptions that his mother had given him so many years ago. He stretched a little, and immediately regretted it. All his muscles were sore. Absolutely all of them. He let out a soft groan and sat up, blinking and rubbing his face. He could feel the coat of dirt and grit that covered his skin, dust from the road and days of only using a cleaning charm to wash up. He looked about the room. It was cluttered. Odds and ends lay upended or falling over, crates and broken chairs, drying racks of herbs and flowers. Smelled dusty in here.
What had woken him? Gaius?
No. Merlin closed his eyes, tried to think back. No, it was something else. Someone had called his name.
He could not remember now. Probably a dream. He braced himself and started to pull his aching body out of bed. It was as good a time as any to start the day. He had a lot to do. A lot to plan for. He grimaced. He had to figure out how to sneak into Camelot's tombs unseen and out again without anyone the wiser.
