The warmth drifted around him, peaceful darkness that stretched for an eternity. Drifting, stepping on the seemingly solid floor. Then light. Strands of golden dust filling the black and curling around him. Familiar and friendly. A part of him forever entwined with who he is.
It dances away, a promise to return. At his beck and call, but he is fine to let it go. The static and electricity of that power twirling into circles, then fading away. The air grows chilly. Freezing his steps.
Something is wrong.
The ground begins to incline to the side, his footing slipping dangerously. His heart pounds in his chest as he tries to remain still, yet he still begins sliding farther away as the ground turns into a vertical incline.
His body thumps to the ground, fingers scrabbling for purchase on the smooth surface. For anything, anything at all to grab onto. He screams as the falls. Toppling down into eternity.
Merlin jerks awake, sweating and panting. The ground is solid against his back; curling press of the wyverns around him, shuffling in distress at his awakening. They settle with a low, chitter. The moon settles low in the sky, peaking above the sleeping treetops. The wind disturbing their slumber with the small rustling of their leaves.
He sighs, and curls back on top of the blue hide. It was just a dream. Nothing to be thinking about. He's had dreams where he's tripped and woke up suddenly. This somehow seems different. The unease of the world suddenly tilting doesn't go away. Like it could happen all over again.
He shivers, wrapping tightly into himself. Focusing on the cooling breeze and the rumblings of sleep around him. Yet no matter how long he waited, not even when the rays of sun-splashed across his face, did sleep come. All he could think back to is that dream.
He spends his time wandering the forest, delighting in the animals that come to visit him. Creatures spoken about in legend in the 21 century come in packs. Giant Basilisks the size of modern trucks making their homes in the ground. Sliding around him and hissing at him in greeting.
Griffins and Hippogriffs making their nests in the largest trees possible so it could hold their weight. A delightful time he takes chasing them from the tree branches. Ease filling his chest at the control he has over keeping himself from dropping from the treetops.
Then, when he flutters on the edge of sleep, does he see a rare sight. A unicorn, and a grey man who's carefully guiding the pregnant unicorn as she walks. It's pure, untainted magic. Soft but unyielding.
The dream comes again. This time the golden dust twirls more urgently, as if frantic. It dissipates much quicker now, the cold creeping in and becoming blistering. He has no chance to panic as he falls into the dark sky.
Merlin screams, and the big Momma griffin who has been so kind as to let him sleep in her next squeals in distress. Rubbing up against him with her beak to soothe his trembling. The wrongness doesn't go away, and he's had enough. Maybe the druids would have answers for him. He doesn't trust Kilgharrah to give him a straight answer, not after his manipulations.
The dawn breaks, and he makes his way back to the druid camp. As far as he can tell, they have settled in nicely. The tents have been carefully nailed to the ground. Symbols of the old religion hanged in the entrances of their tents, swirling eerily as his dreams. Then he blinks, and he realizes that it is only his imagination.
As he approaches, the laughter and chattering turn to a whisper. As if sensing his presence and being deeply afraid. Like the silence would somehow have him pass over without finding them. He keeps the frown from his face, keeping it carefully lax as he walks into the camp. This is the very reason why he ran away in the first place.
The air is suffocating and quiet. He can feel the stares on him as he walks, but the druids are too well hidden in the forest with their mundane covered cloths. Yet he can sense their magic as clear as if they were screaming at him.
He tracks down Iseldir sitting next to Kilgharrah in the nearby clearing. The dragon is lethargic stretching in the sun on his back. The giggling of young children running on top of the dragon, using him as a big jungle gym.
The children do pause as they see him, but in their own childish way continue playing without pause. Though it is far more lackluster as if a parent scolded them for doing something wrong. Iseldir gestures to the grass beside in him. "Welcome, Emrys. Please, join us."
He settles down and watches the children slide down the dragons drooped wing. A few of the more rambunctious children tackling others onto the soft grown beneath. Kilgharrah has his eyes closed in bliss, hardly twitching when the children get too rowdy. He doesn't think he's ever seen Kilgharrah be this content in all of his memories of him.
"Forgive me Emrys, but um…" Iseldir doesn't look at him as he speaks, keeping his face carefully angled away. "Do you mind pulling back?"
"Pulling back? What do you mean?"
"You are quite an overwhelming presence Emrys. You're magic… is nothing like anything I've ever felt. I can't imagine what it might be like for those who are not trained to ignore such potency."
"Oh," he mutters, furrowing in concentration. It shifts inside of him like it knows it's being talked about. "I'm… not sure how to do that."
The druid leader seemed oddly put out by his admittance if his shifting tone from serious to mildly shocked says anything. "Really? Well, I thought…"
Merlin sees him sheepishly peering back as if coming to a terrible realization but dare not to speak it out loud. "Iseldir? If I'm making your stay here uncomfortable, I would want to fix it if I can."
"Of course not. We are honored that you have given us protection and have been so generous. It is… well. The prophecy has foretold that you will be our guiding light to Albion, and to the Once and Future King. Seen almost like an all-knowing being."
Merlin rubs the back of his neck, unsettled by the words. Iseldir thoughtfully continues. "But when I see you like this. You are so painfully human. Completely different from how I know you could do anything you wished. I am sorry that I have misjudged you."
Hot waves of shame crash in his belly as he turns so his head is staring at the ground, as ready for the reprimand that would inevitably come. This isn't what he wants. He can't be overestimated like this, it would cause too many problems. He's so far out of his comfort zone that he would like to go back to hanging out with the animals now.
"No, please. Don't do that. You haven't done anything wrong. It's my fault."
The man glances up hesitantly. "Would you teach me? How to pull back?" The dark haired boy fumbles, idly picking at the scabs in his hands. "I admit, there is so much about the old religion that is unknown to me. I-"
He swallows, squeezing his lids shut. "I cannot have my enemies know that I am as strong as I am until I can reveal that to them. I don't want anyone to fear me."
A hand brushes on his arm. The druid leader talks soothingly, much closer than before. "I would be happy to help you, Merlin."
He nods. It's the first time he's said his name without the weight behind it. He concentrates on breathing, and when all of his emotions have settled, he opens his eyes. "Thank you."
"Tonight, we will have a communal dinner. Come if you wish."
Merlin nods again, unable to speak. He hears him getting up from beside him, calling out for the children. "Come on! Time to go home." They give a small whining protest but quietly run along after him as he walks out of the clearing. "Good day, Emrys."
He turns to glare at the dragon, whose lazily watching him from one open eye. "You're a big, cryptic, tub of lard. I hope you know that."
Kilgharrah merely smirks. "I've been called worse. Now," he stretches his body out, yawning and blinking lethargically. "Leave me. I think I've seen your friend looking for you."
He huffs, brushing the grass from his clothes. Muttering, "You could have just told me, but no. Got to be all holier than thou about it. I know something you don't… blah." It doesn't take long for him to find him, or more like for his friend to find him.
Grettir stood away from where he lays, calmly taking in the scene where he lays in the center of the wyverns. "You have people at the border requesting entrance, my Lord."
"More druids?" He rolls over, pushing to his feet and brushing the dirt from his pants. The wyvern's jumble around to let him out of the center, closing tightly in when he's gone.
"Not quite." The unusual hesitancy in his voice has him squinting at his friend. He meets his gaze head-on but didn't say a word else. He shrugs, stretching and yawning.
"Alright. Are you ever going to teach me about teleporting?" He squeaks as the world turns, just able to stay balanced on his feet
In his confusion, the slight man was making his way forward, laughing. "You'll learn!"
The boy grumbles, stumbling on the black rocks beneath up to his side. They weren't near the bridge like last time, but on another, unfamiliar side of the border. Stone gray, steep mountains resided on all sides of him, and he could smell the salt of the sea in the air. "So who are we meeting?"
"My family." It's voiced with such gentle fondness that he almost doesn't catch it.
"Family?"
"Yes. There was more of us, serving under our King. My family was the only one who stayed in service because of our unique ability. I told them I would stay so they could join the rest of our people in the mountains."
Merlin hmms, "If they've stayed living in the mountains, why would they come back?" He stares at his friend, smirk growing at seeing him turn a delightful pink.
"I may have told them about you." He states in all seriousness, "Then I accidentally slipped out your name and what happened, so our leader wanted to return home."
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Really? Ok. They are more than welcome."
"I will warn you, don't be intimidated by our leader. He may act like he is mad all the time, but is a big old softy on the inside. Don't tell him that."
A wry grin makes its way onto his face. He's meet those types of people before so this wouldn't be much of a problem. "Sure."
They walk around a steep mountain onto the beach, white fizzy waves swooning onto the rocks.
Short and stout men and women they are, filled out with thick, bulging muscles. Thick grime covers them in layers, yet they are uncaring. Holding odd bags faces carefully neutral. One man stood clearly from the rest, frowning deeply at him assessing him with grouchy temperament. His hair is a dark orange, covered in dark dirt and a stubble beard.
It takes everything he is to not have his facial expression twitch. Merlin simply smiles and tips his head in respect. "Hello and welcome. I have heard that you wish to return home if I am not mistaken?"
"You're a mere boy. A child." He broaches, "Where's your leader, eh? Or is he not brave enough to face me himself." The smile turns tense on his face.
"Appearances can be deceiving. I am Emrys, the one you seek."
"Prove it." Merlin is taken aback by those challenging words.
"What?"
But he didn't respond. Simply taking off a thick jacket that seems he peeled his skin off with how much grime there was, but beneath the man is a ghostly pale. As if he's never seen the sun. Yet when he struck, he moved like a viper.
It drew out, both exchanging fast blows and being too fast for the other. It went on for hours until the man collapses from exhaustion, Merlin narrowly avoiding toppling over. It when far on for far too long for his liking.
He gives a full belly laugh where he lay exhausted on the ground. "You put up a good fight boy! I yield, but don't you think I'm letting you off easy for beating me."
Merlin just groans.
After the fight, he offers to set up lunch. They settled against the ground and Thomdeg's servants quickly set up a blanket for them to sit on with food. Merlin made sure to smile gratefully at the two of them, which they couldn't help but to turn away in embarrassment at being acknowledged.
"So," The leader grunts, taking a piece of venison with his hands and tearing into it with his teeth. "Thomdeg is my name. You are Emrys, eh?" He swallows and raises what he now sees is a red eyebrow under all that dust.
Merlin stifles a grimace. It's exhausting correcting people all the time. "Yes, but please call me Merlin." He's given a sharp, knowing smirk.
"A heavy title." His hand gestures to all of him, "Not much to look at, but you've proved your worth."
"Thanks… I guess." Hesitantly, he starts to munch on some meat. Thomdeg seemed to be content eating for a bit, but he has questions stirring in his brain. Grettir in the distance scattering with the servants, so he doesn't want to bother him.
"Can you tell me more about you're history? Grettir told me that you used to serve the Fisher King." Thomdeg, takes a piece of meat and throws it at his chest. He catches it, fumbling and stuttering in surprise.
"Not now. Eat." Merlin frowns and chews carefully. There's more to this than what he is showing, so, for now, he will wait. Once the food is gone, does the red-haired man turn to him.
He explains how they are Dwarfs and their history. They had been a wondering race full of the mastery of crafting but unable to apply it with no experience. It was until the King's family that took them it did they understand what life is. To build and create great structures for the King, but they had to leave once the Fisher King had cursed the land. They moved to the mountains and have lived in wait for the new King to arrive.
"I will not lie to you, I did not believe in Emrys. Yet no one could mistake the power you omitted that day. My people will do everything to ensure that you will succeed."
He almost doesn't want to turn down this offer, but something about this seems terribly off. "Why? You have no obligation to help me. No true reason to follow besides a name."
The short man laughs bitterly. "We have not only stories. We are beings of magic, but we do not have abilities such as you have. The future lays heavily on your choices, and we've seen a brief glimpse into our future. I will not allow my people to be slaughtered because of your mistakes."
Merlin swallows, keeping his gaze steady. "I won't let that happen either. I promise that you that you'll be safe."
It holds for an eternity until Thomdeg puffs and his rumbling voice turning lower in his throat. "You promise too much. Yet I believe you will do your best to do nothing less. I wish you luck."
He grunts, standing to his feet and brushing off his pants. Merlin doesn't comment on how that doesn't help if he's entirely covered in dirt already.
"Now, my people will arrive in a few days. We'll have the material you'll need to start building a proper Kingdom." He turns, walking away briskly and grumbling under his breath. "Everything probably destroyed… all our hard work.."
Merlin couldn't quite catch it. Trying to move out of the way quickly enough for the servants to pack up, and for them to travel back to the mountains. He sighs. That was more stressful than it should have been. Now he would have to go back to join the druids for dinner.
Maybe his dream won't come to him again tonight. Surely Iseldir can have an answer? "My Lord?" He shakes his head, taking in his surroundings. They were already back at the castle. He must have zoned out if he didn't notice them traveling. "Sorry, I was distracted. Thinking."
He doesn't offer any explanation, and Grettir doesn't force him to give any. He simply bows and vanishes behind a tree. Merlin takes care of the castle until the moon begins rising high in the sky, and makes his way back home.