Disclaimer: I do not own Merlin (I wish I would!)
A/N: I did my best to avoid language mistakes but as my native tongue is German there may still be many to be found. Please accept my most humble apology in advance!
As to the plot of this story: After I wrote 'Abandoned' – my first fanfiction ever – as a mostly "Arthur-centred" piece, I wanted to write a story that focuses more on Merlin and on magic. The result is, as I fear, less tragic and dramatic than "Abandoned", but then it is also more "canon" than my first story. .
Warning: I've been told that this story consists only of "gruesome bad metaphors and empty talk". Please tell me your (honest!) opinion. True or no? Please review!
The legacy of Cornelius Sigan
7. Mercia
Far away, in Mercia's Royal Castle Arengarde, something stirred. It had been human once but memories of these times were fading. Under the silken cloth, the regal state and jewels another being took possession of body and soul that had been Marcus, King of Mercia. Slowly, oh, so slowly. But not much longer now, no, not much. The being softly chuckled to itself. The fools, the utter fools. Right in front of them, right under their noses, it had begun to consume the young King who had come to its resting place, trusting like a harebrained mouse, snivelling, whining, weak but greedy, very greedy...
The being murmured to itself of those times long past, when the others had called it into the world, those who had been greedy too, lusting for power and strength. It had betrayed them all. Their lands it had consumed, their flesh and blood had been its prey and it had feasted on their fear, their weakness, their useless pleas, oh how it had feasted on every single shred of their useless existence. The creature stretched itself under the human skin, extended itself to all parts of the body it nested in, comfortable in the warmth, the softness of the flesh and the silent tormented cries of the mind trapped in it. Not much longer now. Then the cries would be silenced forever.
But others would come to cry and plea, yes, countless others. The creature's wrath made the skin of the human body ripple like a corpse would be by the worms crawling in it. All the being's enemies would have to pay for their past victory. They had defeated it once but they would not defeat it again. Their pathetic magical powers would be useless against the renewed strength of the Dark Force and the Shadow Army would march once again to scorch the earth.
The creature relished in the thought of its Searchers coming back to merge once again with the Dark Energy which lived in the being's core, telling what they had found in the outside world. Some things hadn't changed at all. Humans were belligerent, greedy, treacherous. It would be so easy to take advantage of them. Other things had changed a lot. Where once had been an ocean of warm light, formed by the wood settlements, temples and sacred forests of the enlightened ones there was only cold now, darkness, empty vastness. All the warmth and beauty gone. Humans had done this, humans were still doing this and humans would go on to do this until their own death would stop their murderous behaviour that had destroyed their only chance for survival.
The Searchers had spread visions of terror, war, blood, destruction and despair all over the country that once had harboured the enlightened ones. They had searched to stir up the young King of the legends, the King who would survive to finally put an end to the glorious Dark Rule, the King who would reunite what had been separated by human foolishness and who would heal the scars of past injustice. But the Searchers had found nothing. Only short glimpses of what might have been but wasn't any more. Glimpses of a young Prince and young knights striving for peace and justice but who only lived in peoples' hearts, as a memory or a dream. High up in the mountains, where the legendary King were to be found, the Searchers had cast their most vicious spells and their most evil visions but nothing had disturbed the tranquillity of the serene mountain landscape. No terrified human being had tried to run from the sacred forest's shelter, no magician's power had instinctively lashed out at the evil attacker, thereby betraying his whereabouts and strength.
The being laughed when the Searchers projected their findings into its mind. Vayatanu, the place from where the end had once come to the Dark Rule, was no more. It could not be found, not even as a faded memory in the human heart. There was a King in Camelot but he was old, forsaken and alone. His memories of a son and heir were memories of loss and betrayal. He himself had expelled the happiness and friendship that could have saved him and his castle. Camelot's glorious triad of a King, a warrior and a great warlock was what it had always been: An insignificant legend.
The creature lazed around self-indulgently inside the human hull. The Searchers had taken strength and energy away. They had slowed down its full awakening considerably. Now there would be no more Searchers until the day it stood before Camelot's walls to reclaim its other half from the presumptuous humans who held it captive. Then the Searchers would once more cast their spells and visions for all to behold and despair, not only for the enlightened ones.
Until then the creature would bide its time. 'King Marcus' would mobilise the Mercian army, negotiate with King Alined for an alliance and pretend to rule this pathetic excuse for a Kingdom. Finally 'King Marcus' would lead 'his' army towards Camelot. Doubtlessly the poor fools would cheer at the 'King's' wondrous ability to bring down the Pendragon stronghold's walls with a word and a small gesture of the hands. They would probably even cheer at the confusion of Camelot's defenders caused by the Searchers' visions and mental torments. Of course there would be the triumphant moment when the two halves would once again merge and the Shadow Army would rise from the ground, invincible, immortal and insatiable. The cheering would cease then. Humans who were consumed by the Shadow Warriors never cheered. They screamed. At least until their throats were ripped out of their necks.
Oh yes, their moment of victory would be brief. Only the short hour between Camelot's fall, the Pendragon's death and the reunion of the two halves; nothing more. The creature smiled and King Marcus' face drew back his lips in a malicious sneer. Then the human body rose from the bed he had been resting on and went over to the huge mirror in one corner of the room.
Inwardly the creature raged in disgust and humiliation as it erased all outer signs of its existence from the young man's body that had become its vessel. It ceased to move and wriggle under the human skin. The huge black eyes shrank to normal size, the orbs showing their former light, watery blue. Seemingly the red blood of life came back to hanging cheeks. White fangs slipped back behind blackened lips which slowly became red and soft again. Ghostly white skin regained its normal colour. Claws relaxed to become human hands once more. The terrifying look of menace and hatred vanished from the face. When the creature checked its appearance in the mirror it was the picture of a slightly obese, not very clever and somewhat terrified young man that looked back.
For one second the creature allowed itself to draw comfort from the thought that it wouldn't need human form any more once the reunion of the two halves was complete. Then the necessity to feast on human blood every night would end, too. It couldn't go on indefinitely anyway. Someday or some night it would be one worthless human too many who disappeared in or near the castle and even those stupid fools would grow suspicious. But the being didn't care much for that. Not long any more, now. No, not long.
Eyes sparkling with joy at the pitiful cries of the human soul hopelessly trapped in the obsessed body the creature left the room and headed for the inner castle. So much to do and so little time. Mercia awaited orders from her King.
It was only a few hours before Merlin escaped from Vayatanu that a country began to seriously get ready to wage war on Camelot!