Tags: Dark Arthur but not, Dark Morgana but not, Dark Morgause but not, Underage but NOT. You'll understand if you read. Merlynn is a Goddess, not a God.
Fanfiction only let's you list four characters, but my story practically has them all.
Canon Change: Arthur did repeal the ban on magic and become the High King of Albion. Camlann was ten years later.
Read the first four chapters and decide if you wish to continue. Those will give you enough of an idea of the rest of the story.
This story has non-con! It IS graphic, and it is throughout. If anything triggers you, DON'T READ!
If anyone is curious, the Merlynn I pictured is on YouTube: Colin Morgan (Girl Face) The second and third pic is my Merlynn. Also my Mordred is Asa Butterfield as a teenager and adult. I just couldn't picture Alexander Vlahos with my girl.
Approximately eleven weeks earlier...
"Almost ready!" Merlynn peeks at the dragon clock on the wall, which seems to be chastising her tardiness with its ruby eyes. "I know, I know." She scurries back to the items still strewn out on the naked mattress. Goddess, why is she always late? No matter what lesson, skill, or art she's been taught, time has been a concept she's never quite mastered. Beings as she's immortal, the young witch can't decide if that's ironic or appropriate.
She peruses the piles remaining and returns to her list knowing they're all that's left. Earlier she minimized everything for easy packing and currently is storing her toiletries in the front pocket of her carry-on. Easy accessibility. All that's awaiting storage of her clothes are the lingerie and socks, which will cache nicely in the nylon pouch next to her stack of trousers and jumpers. The new bedding her mum bought her is the perfect barrier between the belongings she wants separated and not jostling each other, such as her workout gear from her spell books.
Speaking of... One of her more pertinent tombs appears to be missing. Wonderful. Battle Spells is kind of imperative for a bodyguard, and one she definitely doesn't want to leave behind. Merlynn's magic may be instinctual, but all her grimoires provide necessary information to 'know thy enemy'. She can better defend her charge if she recognizes her opponent's onslaught. They also give her ideas. She can't execute a move if her magical intuition hasn't learned it yet. Knowledge is power, particularly in her case. Therefore, abandoning the text to whatever nook or cranny it's hiding in, is unacceptable. After a small trek around her cozy childhood quarters, she realizes there's not really anywhere to look. Seeings as she is officially moving out, her room has already been stripped bare. There are no more places to hide. Hmm? There is one possibility. With time of the essence, the witch doesn't delay dashing to her doorway. "Mum?! Have you seen Battle Spells anywhere?! You know, it has the green cover and gold spine?!"
"No I haven't, hun! Aren't you finished packing yet?! Mordred's going to be here any minute!"
"I know! I know! I just need to find this last book and then I'll be down!"
"Well, hurry up! You still need to eat something, and there's a surprise for you in the kitchen!"
Disheartened at losing her ancient tomb, Merlynn trudges back to her room despondently and flops onto the soft pillow top. She inherited the text from one of her old instructors who passed on to Avalon last summer. 'The only weakness you'll ever have, young witch, will be what you lack between the ears. Match your knowledge to your power, and you'll be invincible.' Doesn't her immortality already make her invincible? Regardless, he was one of her favorites, and she remembers he signed it with a personal inscription on the inner jacket. It will be missed.
Merlynn can't let herself fall into the pits of despair, though. She does have a plane to catch. So the witch begrudgingly hoists herself off the bed and bitterly crosses 'books' off the list. Once the mattress has been cleared of the rest of her miniaturized possessions she starts to shut the suitcase, but an image stops her short. She remembers now. Bounding to her desk, she snaps the key from the concealed magnet and unlocks the second drawer. "Success!" she cheers while raising her discovery in victory. Merlynn had forgotten she hid the book before Kara visited. The girl has anger issues, and it would not do for her to get ahold of an instruction manual on magical combat. Scary! Still beaming, she shrinks the last grimoire and floats it to join the rest of her books situated inside the carry-on. She double-checks her list and breathes a sigh of relief. The young witch is finally ready to officially zip up her past and begin the next chapter of her life.
Peering around her empty room, Merlynn feels a little nostalgic... just a little. The truth is she's excited. She's been training for this her whole life. It's time. It's time to join the Once and Future King and fulfill their destiny. Therefore, she isn't too sad to walk away. It was never meant to be. Of course she'll miss her family and friends, obviously. And there's also her beloved she has to leave behind. That, in particular, will definitely be difficult. But she'll still visit and there's always Skype. She can do this. She will do this. There's a world out there she's never seen and is calling her name. It. Is.Time. And with that Merlynn walks out the door and doesn't look back.
She makes a quick stop at the loo to examine her appearance one last time. She isn't vain, but Mordred's coming over to ride with da and her to the airport, and she wants to look her best. The witch's long, raven black hair flows loosely down her back, just how he likes it, soft and free. Her day's apparel includes a pair of skinny, blue denim, capri trousers with casual, white wedge heels, to match her knit, white tank top that sits low enough to expose the top swells of her breasts. For cooler weather she tops it off with a thin gray cardigan. She deems herself ready and forgoes any makeup. Everyone says she's attractive enough to not need it with casual wear. Unzipping the small, outside pocket of her bag, Merlynn retrieves her toothbrush and toothpaste. Once the white pearls are sparkling, she rinses with mouthwash for fresh minty breath. After a few spritzes of mum's vanilla musk, she repockets the personal care products. With one last peek in the mirror, satisfied with the results of her efforts, she exits the loo.
Standing at the top of the stairs, she grins mischievously. Should I? She hasn't done it in years, but why not! One last time, in memory of her childhood, Merlynn grabs the round disk sled stuffed in the back of the hall closet. She lays it down on the top step and parks herself in the center. One... two... Pushing her weight forward, the disc tilts over the edge, "Aaah!" The raven barrels onto the landing rolling in hysterical laughter.
"Merlynn!" A middle-aged woman with mousey brown hair and a decent figure, springs from around the corner, impressively for her age. "You silly girl, you nearly gave me a heart attack!" She looks at her daughter exasperated by her youthful displays. "You know you ruin the carpet when you do that."
"The carpet's nineteen years old, mum. Trust me, it's ruined." She kisses her cheek and gives her mum a one armed hug. "Hang on." The raven scrambles to put the sled away and fetch the carry-on left upstairs.
Hunith wanders into the kitchen to pour Merlynn's favorite blend of tea. Feeling sentimental, she gathers her daughter's old dragon teacup and matching plate. She searches the utensil drawer and smiles wistfully when she finds the dragon fork that completes the set.
Merlynn strides in. "Sorry. Before I leave to go be all adult, I thought I'd do something childish." She notices her old tea set displayed on the island. "I'm not the only one feeling reflective, I see. I can't believe you found old Kilgarrah." She seizes the plate from the counter, twirling it about in her hands. "I haven't seen these in years. I didn't know we still had them."
"Of course we still have them. I've kept all your Kilgarrahs. Remember how you used to call them by numbers? You know there are better ways to memorialize someone then naming everything after them," she teases.
"I was only three!" Merlynn feigns insult. "Forgive me my grieving indulgences. At least we know he'll always live on through my tea set," she says eyes twinkling with mirth and sipping her tea.
"And your stuffed animal, old back pack, t-shirt you got when you were seven, your first bike, your..."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it. My first dagger I named Kilgarrah too."
"Better known as Six," Hunith mocks, then notices the platter by the stove. "Oh, Finna brought you some cheese danish coffee cake! She's sorry she couldn't see you again before you left."
"Awww, that was so nice of her." She cuts a bite off with her fork. "Mmm, delicious! She knows this is my favorite. She used to make it every time I mastered a new lesson. Talk about motivation." Merlynn happily resumes eating the Ambrosian delicacy. "I wasn't expecting to see anyone again before I left, though. Not after the compound's going away party."
Her mother watches her affectionately finish her cake. Her baby's all grown up and moving to fulfill her calling as savior for their people. Or savior of the savior as it is. Such a small person for such a large destiny. They've known this time was coming from the moment they found her on their doorstep, gifted to them by the Goddess herself. They raised her right. She knows they've done their part in the grand design of the prophecy. But no one ever told them it was going to be this hard to let go. And she's struggling.
Merlynn notices her mum's silence and the tears in her eyes. Dropping her fork with a clank, she goes to wrap her arms around the woman who raised her. "Don't cry mum. If you cry, then I'll cry, and then Mordred will be greeted by a red, puffy basket case when he gets here. We wouldn't want that, would we?" Her mother pats her arm and laughs at her daughter's attempt at lightening the mood.
"I'm fine, cariad. You can't expect a mother not to be a little emotional when their baby leaves the nest. Now, no more tears. Do you have everything? Did you make a list like I told you?"
"All checked off and accounted for. I also have the list of everyone's emails and Skype usernames. Did you know Freya's is bastet4u? I'm really glad she's embracing her other half and no longer sees it as such a curse." Merlynn giggles thinking about Will letting his girlfriend lounge on him while he strokes her between her wings. "Will said she finally took him flying, and they went to the Cliffs for a picnic under the stars."
Hunith smiles softly, picturing her pseudo-adopted son romantically wining and dining. The brash young man can be such a softie at heart. "Do you know who your new roommates are?"
"No, but they said they would make sure they were magic allies, and I wouldn't have to deal with any prejudices. Imagine the king ensuring I'm with sympathizers when he's the biggest bigot of them all. A bit ironic wouldn't you say?"
Hunith's mouth tightens in disgust at the mention of the reigning monarch. "He's not our king, and it's not irony. I'm well aware that that pompous fool sees you as some magical slave guard dog, forced to protect his family, based on 'superstitious nonsense.' What did that article say?... Oh yes, 'Far be it from me to deny absolute power when it's being offered.' And he says it when he's the one summoning you! I bet he's just itching to get his hands on your 'absolute power' and leash it for his own means." The audacity of that man irritates her to no end. They aren't even British!
"Mum, calm down. No one is putting me on a leash. I'm Emrys, remember. If I have to, I will have a sit down with his majesty to set things straight. As far as I'm concerned, I don't work for him. My job is to magic users everywhere and a united Albion in peace. Besides, the prince isn't like that and my duty is to him alone, not the royal family. You know he's a supporter? Has been ever since the princess' power manifested. The known rows between both he and his father are legendary." She rubs her mother's arms in comfort.
"That's the worst of it! She's his own daughter, and he still can't accept it. That poor girl. I can't imagine her growing up surrounded by that kind of bias. You know I've had half a mind to fly there just to give her a hug." Hunith sighs in commiseration to the princess.
Merlynn's mum has such a kind heart. "I know how you feel. I hope to befriend Morgana and support her any way I can. And I know for a fact that Arthur has helped her in locating, contacting, and joining magic services like support groups, magical training, employment. Not that she'll need a job. Point is there is someone there for her. She's not alone. But I will tell her she's got an honorary mum in you." She nudges her mother sweetly, silently acknowledging her compassion for the magical princess.
Tap, tap, tap.
Merlynn darts to the front door and her face brightens at the sight of her betrothed, which is returned in full. "Mordred!" She opens the door and practically crushes him in a tight bear hug.
"Hello Dragonlady. Let up a minute, love. Need to breathe." She reluctantly releases him, but still keeps a grasp on his hands, soon noticing the stems sprouting from his left. "I picked these for you from Simmons' field."
"They're beautiful, but I wouldn't want you to get in trouble. You know how he is about his prized garden."
"Once he knew they were for you, he would have given me a whole rose bush if I asked. Trust me Merls, the whole compound, not to mention all magic users everywhere, are aware of what your going to do. The minimum amount he could do is part with a few beautiful flowers in gratitude. Speaking of gifts..." He raises her left hand to his lips as if to give her a gentleman's kiss, but instead whispers some ancient words over her fingers. The light in his eyes reflects the luster of her betrothal ring's sapphire stone. When the incantation is finished her precious jewelry has a thin band of silver twisted into the azure blue. He kisses the back of her hand. "I made sure it was platinum to match your gauntlets. I wanted you to have something subtle from me that you would always have. The clan gave us our rings. This is specifically my gift to you. We still match, just yours has a bit of a feminine touch."
"Oh Mordred. I'm not sure they'll be platinum, though. That's not really accurate, is it? I know the machine generates them magically, and I don't think magic would classify me on par with Nimueh. Don't get me wrong, it would be better if it did. Anything else I might as well walk around with a neon sign saying 'Emrys.' With extravagant gauntlets I'll be a walking magic beacon!"
"I have news for you, love, you'd stand out with no magic to your name. My baby was made to shine."
The raven drops her head blushing in modesty. Despite all her beauty, all her talent, and all her power Merlynn has remained humble, endearing her to others even more. The Goddess chose wisely for magic's ambassador.
"Come on in, Mordred, and have some tea. Balinore is out with Aithusa tending to Beda's new twin hatchlings. He should be in soon, and based on the time, you all will have to leave posthaste." She guides him to the kitchen.
On cue, whilst sipping his tea, the back screen door swings open entering a tall, broad shouldered, fairly fit, middle-aged man with salt'n'pepper hair and beard. He swipes his feet along the floor mat kicking of any excess mud. It had rained yesterday and the path to the caves is not exactly paved.
The burly man glances up and notices the boy occupying a stool by the kitchen's island. "Hello Mordred." He gives him a warm smile and squeeze on the shoulder. "Thanks for coming. I know it means a lot to Merlynn." He pats his future son-in-law on the back.
"I wouldn't miss it, sir. I want to be with her as long as I can before she boards that plane."
"Call me Balinore, Mordred. We're going to be family after all. You know I've always wanted a son," he states fondly. He wasn't lying. He was thrilled at his daughter's betrothal. He knows what the majority of the magic community believe, but he couldn't ask for a better match. Mordred treats his little bird like the most precious gem on the planet. What father wouldn't want that?
"Sorry sir... I mean Balinor. Trying to give respect where respect is due."
Balinor smiles kindly and circles the boy in his paternal arms.
The raven haired witch watches her family tenderly. The relationship between her parents and beloved is strong, a clear sign of the Goddess' blessing.
"Now, unfortunately because of security measures we will have to drop our girl off at the entrance. Non-passengers are no longer allowed inside. Speaking of which, we have to get her there earlier to go through magic clearance."
Mordred frowns at the extra contingencies Merlynn has to undergo simply because she's magic.
"I know what you're thinking. We've come a long way, though. The UK is one of the last places setting these types of policies. For the most part, magic is readily accepted worldwide."
"And isn't it ironic were sending Magic herself directly to the lions' den."
"But see that's the point. The Once and Future King with Emrys' guidance will put the final nail in the coffin to prejudice everywhere. They will make history, and we are alive to see it. This is a momentous occasion, son, and you, my boy, will be by her side for it."
Mordred beams proudly. He is honored that his fiance is the prophesied Emrys. Honestly, her power means nothing to him. Merlynn takes his breath away with her kindness, her compassion, her wisdom, her humility - the list goes on. His love is beautiful both inside and out and he couldn't be more thankful she's his.
"Okay, all of you. It's time to get this destiny on the road. The King awaits." Hunith doesn't want to rush them, but it would be bad for the witch to miss her flight. She could always teleport, but that would be such a waste of a ticket. Considering it's from the king, it would be insulting to not utilize his generosity. Generosity - what a joke. He's just raring to get his hands on her daughter. She smirks wickedly. He has a rude awakening in his future. Wouldn't she love to be a fly on the wall for that chat?
"Trying to get rid of me? I see how it is." The raven hugs her mum one last time.
"Never cariad, but you do have a plane to catch." She studies her daughter who has grown into a formidable young woman, and she couldn't be prouder. Merlynn lets go of her mother and makes her way to the door.
"I expect you for dinner, Mordred, no exceptions."
"Absolutely. Who in their right mind would refuse Hunith's cuisine? I'll see you later." He gives her a quick peck on the cheek, and moves to join Merlynn, clutching her waiting hand and luggage.
Balinor follows Mordred's example and plants a kiss on his wife. "Be back later, beauty. I have to stop by the butcher and pick up those lamb chops for the twins, and then we'll be home. Maybe we can do something just you and I."
"Come on da, or I'll have to magic myself there."
"I'm coming. Come up with some ideas, Hunith, and I'll make it happen." He winks flirtatiously.
"I'll hold you to that Mr. Ambrose." And she herds the three travelers out the door.
--
Magic clearance was ridiculous and completely pointless in her opinion. Now her name is on some list of socerers buried in a computer somewhere. What does it matter?! Most magic users have barely any power at all. They're just devout to the old religion and practice the art. They barely even register on the scale. Who is more dangerous, a trained soldier or someone who has to nap after they magic the light on? It makes no sense! But of course the powers that be, who don't even know a thing about magic, are the ones concocting these absurd laws, and the public follows them blindly! She'll never understand.
Now she faces another problem. Through no fault of her own, her plane was delayed leaving, and yet she still has only five hours from the original estimated time of departure to get to the registration building before her magic green card expires. She doesn't control the weather for goddess' sake! Actually, she could if she wanted to, but still, that's beside the point. It's the principle of the matter that really irks her. It simply should not be. She would normally teleport when she's in a rush like this, but if someone spots her appearing out of thin air, without any assigned gauntlets, she can be arrested!
Her phone says she has only one hour left, and she doesn't even know where the building is. She steps up to the curb to hail a ride. Three different cabs drive in next to her. Wow, that's convenient. The driver gets out to help her with her luggage. "No, that's not necessary." She smiles politely. "It's not heavy. It can sit by me. Please tell me you know how to get to Magic Registration," she pleads. He grins broadly and rolls up his sleeve. Copper gauntlets. "Oh, thank the goddess." She sighs with relief and climbs into the backseat. "How long before we get there?"
"Normal drive time is a half hour, but I'm afraid with traffic were probably looking at closer to an hour."
"No, that won't do!" she says frantically. "My plane was delayed, and my card expires in an hour!" She's desperate. "Tell me. What's worse - teleporting to the entrance or being a few minutes late?"
The driver winces and purses his lips. "Aaahh, that's a hard call. Tell you what. Let me make a call, and we'll see if I can buy you a few more minutes." He reaches for his cell phone attached to the dash and types a number on speed dial.
"Hello, Magic Registration. This is Linda, how may I direct your call?"
"Linda darling, just who I need."
"Henry, how can I help you? And when am I going to see you again? I'm still waiting on those apple cookies Amara makes. You know they're my favorite."
"I actually have an appointment next Tuesday. Listen, I have a fare who's really in a bind. I only picked her up about five minutes ago from Heathrow, and her plane was delayed. Her card expires in less then an hour at this point. I was wondering if you might be able to fudge her walk-in time, so it shows an earlier arrival."
"I would normally, Henry, but Aredian is on duty. You know him. He doesn't waste any opportunity to nail a sorcerer to the wall."
"She actually said she can teleport there earlier if that would be better."
"Powerful, eh?"
"Apparently."
The line is quiet for a moment. "Tell you what. There is a blind spot on the east side of the building two blocks away. There are no cameras there because the businesses are all closed. If she can teleport there, she can walk the rest of the way, and she should be here on time. But I don't know if there is enough time for her magic to learn the route. I know if they haven't been there before, it's quite the ordeal for the powerful magicals that are even capable. I think they're trying to come up with a new product to assist with that, but it's not on the market yet."
"Can she give you an address around there? I'll GPS a satellite view of the area. As long as I have a picture, my magic should be able to find it."
Both Henry and Linda are speechless. "You can really do that?" The woman on the other line sounds in awe. Henry is staring at her with his mouth agape. The few sorcerers that can teleport, everyone knows have to know the path. This woman only needs a photo!?
"Um... yeah. Is that a problem?" She hopes not. She has no other ideas, and this Aredian guy doesn't sound like someone she wants to cross.
"Uh, no, no problem. Just never heard that was possible."
"It is for me," the raven mumbles. It wasn't loud enough for the receptionist, but the words hit Henry's ears like a battering ram. He now has a theory and is reeling at the implications of what this could mean.
"Okay, all right. Yes," Linda stammers. "Um, an address in that area you can use is 356 Waller Drive. It's that old savings bank. You know the one, Henry. They were bought out by Mercia."
"Yes, I know that area well. Shame it went so far down hill."
Linda is momentarily silenced. "You know why, Henry."
"Unfortunately, I do. Thank you Linda. You've been a godsend. I won't forget those cookies on Tuesday, I promise."
"Hey, no problem. We magic users have to stick together, and you better not. Give my love to Amara."
"Will do. Bye now."
While the driver and receptionist were finishing their conversation Merlynn was entering the address into her GPS. "Is this it?" She holds the mobile so Henry can view the screen.
"That's the one. You see that alley way? You'll want to arrive just inside that fence. The odds are high no one will be there, but there is no guarantee, you understand."
"I understand. Thank you so much for all your help. Hey, what's your favorite desert?"
"Uh... apple cobbler? Why?" He questions dubiously.
Her eyes glow gold and with a wave of her hand an apple cobbler pie appears in her palm. "Now, it may not taste how you're used to. It's from an Irish bakery in my compound. Don't worry, I paid for it. They're used to me purchasing goods that way. They'll know it's me. Anyway, how much do I owe you?"
It takes him a moment, but Henry shakes himself out of his stupor. "Thank you miss. Ah, no charge. Friend in need and all that."
"That's very kind of you." She smiles appreciatively and makes sure she has everything. Really just her phone and carry-on.
"Miss?"
"Hmm?"
"If you don't mind me asking..." He's nervous, having a good idea already of the answer. "Uh... who are you?"
"Me?..." She gestures to herself. "I'm Emrys. Bye!" She winks and with golden eyes disappears, leaving behind an astounded cab driver.
When he wakes from his daze he promptly taps the green icon on his mobile.
Ring... ring... ring...
"Hello?"
"Amara?..." With a grin he knows his wife will soon be sharing, he relays the news. "She's here."
--
Upon arrival to her destination, Merlynn is relieved to see there's no one in sight. She does a quick scan of the area to confirm it. They weren't kidding; this place really is run down. If they would allow her, she could restore all these dilapidated buildings. But alas, bigotry prefers slums.
Merlynn senses there are a few homeless people a block over. She texts her mum to request some ingredients for deli sandwiches. She has about twenty minutes, so she should have plenty of time and still not be late. The raven is expecting supplies, but pre-made subs materialize in a bag at her feet. Her mum's generosity never ends. She texts her a heart emoji and pockets her phone. An older gentleman rests up against a concrete wall down an alley way. A cardboard box sits beside him with a blanket laid out on the inside. Wearing some old trousers which she can't tell the original color of, and a faded, blue jumper with a few holes and a stretched collar, he looks like he actually could be in his forty's, but due to circumstances would be lucky to pass for late fifty's. That will make it so much harder for him to find a job. The man is obliged for the sandwiches and thanks her profusely, promising to share them with his two friends she sensed earlier. The witch walks away regretful she can't do more, but with all the magic restrictions her hands are tied.
She rolls her suitcase in behind her to a large, much more updated, gray, concrete building. Seriously, what are on all those floors? How many different departments does Magic Registration need? There're what, twelve stories. Whatever. Let's get this over with. It's been a long day and she hasn't eaten since this morning. "Hello, I'm Merlynn Ambrose. I believe my cab driver called you."
A shorter woman with auburn red, shoulder length hair stands before her in a canary yellow, pencil dress cinched at the waist by a thin, black leather belt. She's beautiful, and the bright, doe eyed and scarlet lipped sorceress greets her with a friendly handshake. "Oh yes. Hi, I'm Linda. I'm so glad you made it. I'll let him know you are here, and we'll get you out as soon as we can, all right? Poor thing, you look dead on your feet."
"Thank you. It has certainly been a long day."
"Can I have your magic green card, so I can note it in the system?"
"Hm? Oh yes, ah... here it is." She draws it from her pocket and hands it to the receptionist, who takes the plastic insurance and promptly swipes it through something, not unlike a credit card scanner.
"There you are. You are officially on time. Welcome to the UK. Do you have somewhere to stay? If not, I can recommend some local hotels within walking distance."
"No, that's okay. I'm a student at CamU. I'm supposed to be meeting my roommates after I'm finished here."
"In that case, how about I order a cab so it's waiting for you when you come out?"
"That would be much appreciated. Thank you. Is everyone here so friendly? I had three cabs pull up practically as soon I walked out of the airport."
"Oh honey, have you looked in the mirror? You're going to find most people are... um..."
The woman seems to be searching for a proper adjective judging by the rolling hand gesture. As the raven has no idea what she's trying to say, she's useless helping fill in the blank.
"...friendly."
"Ah." She's not too sure what she means by that, but lets it go. Merlynn's well aware she is not going to understand much about this society she's never been a part of. She has a bit of a learning curve ahead of her, that's for sure.
"Not all though, and woefully, one of the not so friendly ones is almost here." The red head glances to a corridor on the right.
Sure enough, a blonde man with hair slicked back by product, is walking towards them. He appears to be in his fifty's with a permanent scowl on his face. A white lab coat covers hospital scrubs? What are they planning on doing here anyway? She refuses to be some kind of guinea pig if that's what they're thinking.
"Hello. Ms. Ambrose, is it? Cutting it kind of close, wouldn't you say?"
It does not go unnoticed he keeps his hands behind his back. Probably not wanting to be infected by the dirty magic users. "My plane was delayed. You can check with the airline if you need verification."
"No matter."
He brushes her off, no doubt readying to 'read the script' of the 'procedure.'
"The way the process works is..."
Did she call it, or what.
"...you will be scanned by the MJ-2000. It's the latest innovative technology identifying magical power. We do not set the levels of the metals. We can't even tell you where the bar is set between levels. The different classifications from the least power to the most are steel, copper, silver, gold, and platinum. Once the gauntlets are generated they will immediately be cuffed around your wrist. Any attempts to remove them will alert Magic Defense. Any gauntlet produced that is copper or higher will be assigned a magic parole officer."
"Parole officer? Am I being arrested?"
"Of course not. Magic needs to be regulated and supervised to protect the common public. A user of the dark arts is required to check in no less than twice a month to ensure laws are being abided and growth is documented and registered."
Merlynn bristles at the man's gall. It is wholly evident he has no respect for magic and should in no way be in the position to classify it or regulate it. Dark arts! She'll show him dark arts!
The blonde smirks aware of his offense. Well, we'll see if he's still whistling the same tune when she receives her gauntlets.
"Lead the way kind sir." Merlynn smiles sarcastically.
The receptionist almost spits out her drink at the insolence this woman is displaying to the old witchfinder. That was his job long ago before magic was legalized. He literally hunted their kind like animals, and they put him in charge? Just another way the monarchy makes apparent who actually holds the power. Linda knows a time is coming when all magic will truly be free, not this restricted garbage they call liberty. The magic community has been getting antsy, believing fulfillment of the prophecy is upon them. All she can say is it's about time. They're only a few steps away from banishment again. If that happens, all hope is lost.
--
Merlynn leans against the side of the stone building to privately inspect her gauntlets. She isn't surprised they are different. She figured they would be, but she wasn't prepared for this outrageous. They are platinum on the inside, meaning a smooth metal is against her skin, unlike all the jagged edges donning the outside. Like all the tiny crystals that stud the bracelets so thoroughly, making the precious metal underneath virtually impossible to see. And not just any crystals, crystals from the Crystal Cave! She can in effect see the future in her new jewelry! She doesn't want it. Nothing good every comes from the visions the crystals reveal. But of course, she doesn't get the choice. Whoever sorcerer made that ghastly machine, she's going to turn into a toad when she meets them.
It's not all bad. The witch got to skip the whole parole officer mumbo-jumbo. Aredian said she was already going to be regulated by the crown and Royal Guard, so an officer through Registration wouldn't be necessary. Ha, in your face, old man! She can almost guarantee he wanted to be her overseer. Oh, the look he gave her when the gauntlets popped out...priceless. The raven smirks recalling his face.
What really moved her was the receptionist's reaction upon seeing her new cuffs. It was hope. She didn't realize it had been missing from her previous countenance, but yes, that's what it was. Working at a place like that as a sorceress has to be depressing, so it makes sense. Linda's eyes now sparkle with expectation. Expectation of a better world, a better world for all. Merlynn did that. So maybe these gauntlets aren't so bad, not if they can give people a light at the end of the tunnel. After all, isn't that why she's here, to help free her people from tyranny. Making her decision, she rolls up her sleeves. "All right my lovelies... Emrys is here."
A cab is waiting for her as Linda promised. She feels lighter, even though she's been effectively labeled inferior to the masses, she's ready for a new day. The first stars are already gracing the sky, but due to the city lights she can't see many. She knows they're smiling down on her, though.
This time her cab chauffeur is a little creepy and unreadable. Merlynn likes to think she's a pretty good judge of character and this man is disconcerting. Her magic isn't happy in his presence either. What's strange is he's wearing silver gauntlets, but while Linda looked on her with hope, this man has... resentment? in his eyes. The raven tries to focus on the scenery and not think about the obviously disturbed driver.
It is big. Some of the buildings stand taller than all the Ambrosian ones combined. It seems crowded as well. Things are undoubtedly going to take some getting used to.
The drive is taking longer than expected. She wonders if he's chosen a longer route to drive up the price on the meter, taking advantage of the ignorant newcomer. She punches in the address of her new flat. Thirty-seven minutes the screen displays unsurprisingly, and it's already been forty-five. They appear to be leaving the greater London area in the wrong direction according to her GPS. Merlynn decides not to mention her awareness of the alternate course as she's curious of his plan. She already knows he has ill intentions, so she thinks this will be quite entertaining. She missed her workout this morning. To get in some training before bed couldn't hurt.
As predicted they are pulling into a secluded forest area. While he's parking she views the student flats on her GPS. Now that she knows where she's going, time to deal with the next idiot of the day, surpassing that zealot, Aredian. At least what that pompous fool does is legal. Who knows what would happen here if she wasn't... well... her? "Get out of the car," he orders. He yanks her by the arm.
"Oh no, what ever will I do?" she mocks him sardonically.
He's taken aback by her attitude, but disregards her indifference (much to his detriment.) "Okay, here's how this is gonna go..." She tunes the goon out and studies her opponent. He's tall, maybe a little round around the middle. It's difficult to judge under the green jacket. It's dark, but she thinks there's stubble on his chin. She guesses he's got about four stone on her. Should the witch use magic? She would love to practice her dagger training, but she has to pick up all her weapons at the Royal Guard on Monday... Had to leave her babies behind because of airline restrictions. She could use her martial arts or... to hell with it. She peers up at the man approaching her, who apparently finished with his monologue. Whatever. From three meters and without using any words, she pins him to the side of the car.
"You either are the stupidest man this side of the prime meridian or... nope, you really are the stupidest man. Now, here's how this is actually gonna go. You are going to get back in your cab and drive directly to Scotland Yard, where you will confess to everything you did and planned to do." She saunters over to him and touches his forehead, letting her eyes go gold. After enchanting his car in a similar manner she retrieves her phone and carry-on from the back seat.
"What did you do to me?" he asks frightfully.
"You? You, I implanted a truth spell. Don't worry, it wears off in a couple hours. Sadly for you, the police are only one hour away. You needn't bother trying to drive elsewhere. The car is enchanted to travel directly there."
His eyes widen. "You can't do this!" He argues furiously.
She snorts. "I believe I just did." He stares at her incredulously. "What? You think I'm lying? What's your full name and address?"
"Mortimer Tobias McDougall, but everyone calls me Morty. 4365 Sunset Lane, London, SW1A 2Aa." Mortimer blanches.
"Have you ever killed anyone Morty?"
"Yes."
"Wow, really? Okay, well go ahead and confess to that too. A full confession, you hear me?" She sounds like a mother ordering a child to clean their room. "I'm talking where, when, who, with what. Goddess, it's like I'm playing Clue," she murmurs to herself. "Off you go now. Needless to say my ride will be free of charge." Merlynn releases him and he obediently steps into the car, slamming the door behind him.
The would be assailant is dumbfounded at the strength of the compulsion and that he's actually starting the engine, preparing to confess to all his crimes. Who is this woman with such power to paralyze his control of his own body? At least for the next two hours, and isn't it ironic his supposed victim is in the proverbial driver's seat now, marching him to his end?
"Bye Morty!" A swift glimpse of her mobile confirms her destination, and she lets her eyes flare with the gold of the sun. In a flash she's looming outside her campus flat, shuffling her feet with nerves, but still eager to start the next stage of her life. Merlynn's home, her new forever home in Camelot.
Knock. Knock. Knock.