...I am so sorry.
I know it's short, but it's something, and there's, like, plot. And again, I am so sorry. Thanks a million to the readers who inspire me to keep going (even when it doesn't look like I'm going to)!
Chapter Eight: Something Prophetic
With the feeling of a drowning man finding the surface, Merlin felt the moment he returned to his body. His eyes snapped open; his gasp was echoed by someone behind him. He sat up, and his head swam, nearly sending him back down.
"Merlin? Are you all right?"
He blinked hard to clear his tunnel vision. Gwen moved so that she was sitting in front of him, and the first thing he saw was her concerned face.
He took a few moments to ponder the question. His first instinct was to say yes, I'm fine, while his better judgment wanted to say no and lie down again. He settled on, "I think so, yeah."
No one else was around apart from him and Gwen. Perhaps it was ungrateful of him, but Merlin wished it was Lancelot rather than Gwen who had been waiting for him when he woke up. He was itching with the urge to tell someone what he'd witnessed, and Gwen was not the right person.
The handmaiden assessed him quizzically. "You have to stop doing that," she chided with a small smile. "Everyone's worried about you. Look, I spoke to the others, and they've agreed it might be best if we left earlier than we-"
"No!" said Merlin. "Not until we have something to take back with us. Give me one more day, Gwen, and I can figure out what's going on. I learned something last night, something important."
A new voice said, "Is that right?"
Gwen screamed. The air around them twisted and shimmered until Morgause appeared in the tattered dress and cloak from Merlin's vision. The lines on her face were even more pronounced when seen through physical eyes.
While Gwen scrambled for a weapon - she laid hands on a knife within someone's pack - Merlin sat in a good imitation of calm. He had a sneaking suspicion that Morgause wasn't here to hurt anyone. At least, not to hurt them.
"I knew I sensed someone there," she said airily. "I couldn't imagine who it would be, but magic leaves traces, and led me to you. Who would have thought? Even with your reputation for meddling, I never once suspected."
Any sense of calm fled with its tail between its legs. Merlin didn't dare move a muscle - not even his lungs to breathe - as if by moving, he would give himself away.
"Merlin?" Gwen's voice shattered the illusion. He heard the fear and uncertainty in it. He thought of the way she'd looked when she realized Morgana was a traitor, and he prayed he wouldn't see that look again now. "Merlin, what is she talking about?"
He couldn't answer; he couldn't even bring himself to turn his head her direction. It was so much easier to address the enemy.
"What did you do to that little boy?" he demanded, aware that the authority in his voice was somewhat undermined by the fact that he had to crane his neck to see her. Not sure if it was smart or not, he cautiously got to his feet. He didn't immediately fall over, which was all he'd hoped for.
Morgause regarded him wearily. "If you have magic, you should be bowing to me for what I'm trying to do. The boy's sacrifice was regrettable, but it will matter very little if I can't find the one that works."
"Regrettable?"
Guinevere had never sounded so angry. Even Morgause looked taken aback as she observed the fury that had overcome the normally soft-hearted girl's face. She held her knife up in a warning position, though Merlin knew she would never use it unless provoked. On the other hand, if looks could kill...
"You're the one who's been kidnapping children? And you sacrifice them?"
"Do not condemn what you don't understand," Morgause snapped. "I do not enjoy taking innocent lives, but I know what is necessary, and I will do whatever I must as High Priestess to protect the Old Ways. I would not expect anyone from Camelot to appreciate such a concept."
"Morgana is from Camelot," Merlin pointed out. His eyes were on Morgause, but he kept glancing peripherally at Gwen. He hoped none of her fury was directed at him.
Morgause's expression darkened, leaving Merlin bemused. He had always thought the two sisters were too alike to quarrel. It appeared he was wrong. "Morgana does not see the gravity of the matter as clearly as I do. All the more reason for me to act as quickly as I can. This is a prophecy that cannot be fulfilled."
"Prophecy?" Merlin echoed. From what he'd seen of destiny and prophecies, they weren't things to be trifled with. Moreover, they were not easily evaded. He should know; he'd tried.
She brushed her hair behind her shoulder. "Yes, boy. My sister is not the only one with the gift of Sight. There are others, though it is a rare gift. It was not so rare, however, in the Priestesses of old. I am the only one who remains, but thankfully that is not an issue that magic cannot remedy. Those Priestesses who have passed on can communicate with the living when there is a need. And there is certainly a need." She narrowed her eyes. "Magic is dying. The Old Religion is collapsing at the seams."
Merlin felt sick again, but not in the same way he had when he fainted. "What do you mean? What exactly did the Priestess say?"
Morgause looked away from him and locked eyes with Gwen instead. She engaged the dark-skinned woman in a staring contest until Gwen lowered her trembling arm that wielded the knife. "'Into the Rift shall magic fall,'" Morgause recited, "'to destroy its bearers all. To close it give it what it covets; not the one with magic, but of it.'
"Magic is being consumed by this rift, whatever that may be. I have felt it in my veins with every sacrifice I make. You see, girl, I have not stolen from Enora for my own pleasure. Each child - or indeed, adult - is one born from parents who have magic, but was not deemed to possess it himself."
"The Druid castaways," said Merlin.
"Very good," said Morgause wryly. "It has done no good. The only way to close the Rift is to send someone born from magic to the other side, yet this is what I've done, and I still feel magic leaving the world."
Again Merlin could barely keep himself from feeling sorry for her. It was horrifying to think of what she was doing to those children - but he almost understood. He'd felt it, too, every time one of those children was sent to the other side and were lost to the void. Their deaths had not closed the Rift; if anything, they'd made it wider. Merlin's pity for Morgause washed into anger.
Gwen voiced his feelings for him. "And after the first one didn't work, you thought you'd keep trying?" she demanded. "They're children. They're human beings. I don't care what's at stake, you can't destroy an innocent life because you want to believe the next sacrifice will be the one that works!"
"The one," said Merlin. "You said the one of magic. Not someone, the one. It's someone specific."
"Does it matter?" cried Gwen. "Whether it's the right person or not, it's not someone else's decision to make!"
She was right, Merlin agreed. And yet... bringing back magic was his destiny. He was Emrys. It went against everything he stood for to let magic fall into an abyss of nothingness.
"Perhaps there is only one person who can stop this," agreed Morgause. "Perhaps there is someone more important to the Old Religion who can satisfy what this Rift is looking for. Whoever it is, I am determined to find him - or her."
And then she was gone.
There was a long silence that Merlin wished could have stayed longer. He was determined not to say anything until Gwen forced him into it.
Gwen did just that. "Merlin, tell me she was wrong. About... you."
He didn't want to look at her, but he had to. He revolved slowly on the spot, dread pitting in his stomach even as a million other emotions battled in response to what he'd just heard. Gwen regarded him as though he were a stranger, and not a pleasant one. Her lips were parted, and her brow was furrowed. She looked ready to back away at a moment's notice. The thought hurt.
"Gwen," he whispered, not knowing what else to say.
It was answer enough. "I... I need to be alone for a while," she said, and left him at a swift walk.
Merlin watched her leave, afraid that he had lost a friend and hating that that wasn't even his biggest problem.
Admittedly not my best work, but hey, I'm rusty after six months. I'm still not sure I remember what's goin' on. But I will not abandon this thing, dang it! Even if nobody's reading anymore!
