MERLIN

Everything started out well enough. I had gotten to Morgana's chamber, on time for once. Everything went downhill from there. Morgana sneered at the ribbon when I showed it to her. She then ordered me to dress her and do her hair. The whole time she started her usual comments. "You really are useless. Are you not Crow? It is no wonder that you're mother left you. I mean, who would want you?"

I force myself not to reply. I hate being called Crow. Morgana has called me that since I can remember. One time, I told her that my name was Merlin not Crow it ended with me and the stocks for five hours. The comments involving my mama stung. Then there was the feast to celebrate the prince's birthday.

I had just pulled out Morgana's chair when I noticed that the prat was seated in front of her. He was looking at the noble, who had just stood up. The noble then gave a speech about how wonderful the prince is and how proud the king must be. He just went on and on. The prat looked as bored as I was. After the noble's speech the prat glanced at me. He seemed surprised to see me there. I was refilling Morgana's cup when everything went wrong. I split some wine on the table. Sir Ambrose, noticed and gave me a heated glance and nodded towards the door.

That is how I find myself almost running back to the abandoned tower. Tomorrow I will probably have bruises on my arm and be given no food. I wish mama was here. She would brush my hair, and then sing me to sleep. I miss her voice. It is rich and deep. I could listen to her voice four hours.

I quickly open the door, and head towards the bed. Taking the book from the pillow, I hope the words will take me away, as they have done in the past. Looking through pages I cannot find my spot. I feel the hum of my magic underneath my skin that has always been there since the day I was born. As I focus, I feel the hum my magic increase. The pages of the book start to move quickly, on our own.

"Magic." Quickly turning towards the voice, I see the prat standing at the door staring intently at the book.

My heart beat is hammering inside my chest. I picture myself being brought before the king. He is looking at me with disgust. I then see myself being burned at the stake as the fire licks at my flesh as everyone looks on.

I meet the prat's eyes. I cannot read his face.

"Show me more." his voice is calm, as a talking about the weather, rather than about a topic that people are excuses for.

"What?" I could not have heard that right. There is no way he ordered me to show him magic.

"Are you deaf as well as stupid? I told you to show me more."

"I'm not stupid. Why should I show you?" Why should I give him more evidence against me? Not that he needs it.

"You are stupid, doing magic in Camelot. If you don't harm anyone and do as I say I won't tell anyone. If you do, I will turn you in or kill you myself. Do you agree?

What choice do I have?

"Agreed"

I hope I have not made the worst decision of my short life.