Chapter Summary: Merlin participates in the mage lesson, although he really doesn't have to.
❤•°o.O`•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´ ◇ⓛⓞⓥⓔ◇ `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´O.o°•❤
Chapter XXII: The Wonder in Everything
❤•°o.O`•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´ ◇ⓛⓞⓥⓔ◇ `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´O.o°•❤
For half an hour, Merlin forgets every worry he has, merely enjoying Mage Gaius' familiar cadence and the information freely given.
"The ǣdran bespyrigaþ allows us to see the veins underneath skin and muscles. This is an intricate spellwork that needs your careful concentration. Should you mess up the spell, be assured that it will inflict no damage on yourself or the patient." Mage Gaius turns to address Merlin instead of the mage apprentices. "If I may demonstrate, Your Highness?"
Merlin nods, eyes wide. Mage Gaius grabs ahold of his right forearm and turns it palm up. Two of the mage's fingers press over the soft skin of Merlin's wrist, and he murmurs. Lines of cool blue shoot across the warlock's forearm, thin and crisscrossing. Merlin watches with awe as he sees his veins visibly pump and pump blood across his arm.
"It's easy to perform it on areas where the veins are shallowly beneath the skin. The wrist, the neck, soles of the feet. But other than that, much more delicate control is needed to clearly see the flow. The curse of the Forrotian Cwealm damages the veins primarily, corrupting the pathways pumping blood. As you can observe, Prince Merlin's veins are healthy and whole now. No damage from the curse remains. See for yourself what undamaged veins look like."
Mage Gaius releases Merlin's hand. The light blue lines linger before eventually fading. Merlin traces the skin of his forearm, contemplative.
"And what spells were used to heal the damage?" Prince Clarence inquires with an uncharacteristically open expression, the quill and notebook in his hand ready to jot down the answer.
Mage Edwin clears his throat. "No spell of ours counteracted the curse. We used sinu stiċas spells just in case there is some damage we cannot see with our eyes. We also gave him two bottles worth of Geclænsung potions to cleanse any remaining corruption." His eyes glide to Merlin's whole form, fascination lighting up his features. "Other than that, however, the curse was dispelled purely by Prince Merlin's enchantments."
Every mage apprentice turns to look at him, and Merlin bristles at the concentrated attention.
"Enchantments that will remain a secret until we can study them further," Mage Gaius says swiftly as Prince Clarence opens his mouth to demand a concrete answer. Merlin breathes out in relief. "For now, I want you all to attempt ǣdran bespyrigaþ spell on your own wrist."
Half of the apprentices puff up in confidence, grasping their wrists.
Mage Gaius repeats the incantation slowly and evenly no less than ten times. Merlin and the mage apprentices listen to every syllable and intonation, taking in every gesture needed for the spell.
Mage Edwin adds, "We've had you practicing the bánlocan bespyrigaþ spell. They are similar in nature, so you are treading familiar grounds."
The mage apprentices, even Gilli, deflate upon hearing the remark, although Merlin knows not why. He glances at each of them and sees their faces reflecting utmost concentration even amidst their dismay. He glimpses Prince Clarence's lips pursed outward in a somewhat exaggerated manner and has to stifle a laugh.
Merlin incidentally meets Gilli's eyes. The warlock, wishing to share his amusement, points to Prince Clarence's expression with a wiggle of his brows. Gilli glances over to his fellow mage, sees the Mercia prince's visage, and snickers.
"Concentrate, boy!" Mage Gaius' sharp reprimand makes Gilli's and Merlin's heads snap up. "Magic is not something you do without effort, especially not this type of magic."
Gilli looks down to his wrist, the tips of his ears tinging pink. "I'm sorry, Mage Gaius." He resumes his incantation.
Merlin, apologetic, turns his attention to trying the spell out for himself instead of distracting apprentices from their lessons. He presses his index and middle fingers over the skin of his wrist, the same area Mage Gaius did. He mutters the enchantment, imagining the webbed paths of his veins. Veins surround muscles like the roots of a mid-grown plant. Some pathways are thinner, like silk threads from a spider's back, weaving throughout his whole arm.
Lines of light blue highlight the veins of his whole arm, tracing narrow paths even up to his shoulder. It's easier than he thought. Feeling pleased and mischievous, a hilarious idea clings to him and refuses to let go.
He recalls the lightshow spell Mordred taught him before and integrates it with the ǣdran bespyrigaþ. After a full minute of visualizing what he desires to witness and incanting the short spell, he's rewarded with magnificent results. Hues of grass green, deep violet, lavender purple, warm orange, and bright gold streak across his arm, rhythmically pulsing with the beat of his heart. It's a bit perturbing to watch but also thoroughly entertaining.
Merlin has to swallow an unbecoming cackle at the success and the ridiculousness of his experiment.
Sometimes, magic is fun.
When its trivial use doesn't inadvertently cause a witch hunt, that is.
Abruptly, the warlock realizes the eerie silence that engulfs the room. Even the quiet and distinctive sound of wooden chess pieces moving has stopped.
His head whips up, the thought of everyone in the room being silently assassinated without him noticing ludicrously entering his alarmed mind.
Thankfully, no one in the quarters is dead. Instead, they're all merely staring bewilderingly at the preposterous way his arm is lighting up.
Cheeks flooding with the heat of humiliation, Merlin immediately dispels the enchantment, and his arm swiftly returns to its normal unlit state.
"What was that?" Gilli gasps out.
"I've never seen anything like it." another mage mutters, amazement evident in her face.
Mage Edwin crowds Merlin as he leans in close. "The first spell was definitely ǣdran bespyrigaþ, but you did something else after. What was it?"
Merlin leans away so that he's not breathing the same air as Mage Edwin. "Mordred — he's also Lord Balinor's apprentice — taught me that one. It's a simple light spell."
Mage Gaius pushes Mage Edwin back. "You combined it with ǣdran bespyrigaþ," Mage Gaius breathes out, a gobsmacked look seizing his features.
"Y-Yes. Just for a bit of fun." Anxious that he may have done something illegal in this realm, he tacks on apologetically. "I didn't mean any harm by it."
Merlin looks to the Court Sorcerer and Prince Arthur in a somewhat helpless manner. His mentor's bushy brows are raised high, his hazel eyes gleaming with astonishment and something akin to fascination. Judging by the lack of alarm, Merlin didn't do anything forbidden then, thank the gods.
Prince Arthur stares at his now unlit arm with open interest, fingers steepled together in reverie. He doesn't look the very least disturbed at the display.
— "Magic is pure evil, and I'll never lose sight of that again." —
"How long have you been practicing the ǣdran bespyrigaþ?" Prince Clarence speaks in the silence, tearing Merlin's gaze away from Camelot's prince. Prince Clarence is frowning suspiciously down at him. "You're no mage apprentice."
Merlin responds with his own confused frown. "How long — G—Lord Gaius taught it just now," he reminds the prince, who apparently has problems with his memory.
The warlock's answer plunges the room into another dumbfounded silence, mouths dropping open and shocked gazes digging into Merlin.
Merlin almost throws his hands up in the air. What now!? What could possibly be so surprising about his answer? They were all present in this room when Mage Gaius began discussing the spell!
"Let me see if I have this correct." The tone Mage Gaius uses has Merlin's back straightening. "You did the ǣdran bespyrigaþ a few minutes after I taught it, on your first try. Not only that, but you also took it upon yourself to combine it with a light spell for fun."
"Er, yes . . .?"
Mage Gaius looks utterly impressed, which admittedly makes Merlin preen a little bit. Mage Edwin looks like he wants to take Merlin apart and see how he works inside, which disturbs Merlin quite a lot. The mage apprentices murmur amongst themselves, favoring Merlin glances ranging from envy to fascination.
"How did you—It takes a lot of training—" Prince Clarence splutters. Then, his eyes narrow. He crosses his arms. "You're lying to get attention."
Gilli lets out a scandalized sound, offended on Merlin's behalf at the accusation.
The surety in Prince Clarence's remark has Merlin rolling his eyes. But it does give Merlin an idea to encourage people to move on from his impromptu experiment and get their attention off of him.
He sighs in a rather dejected manner. "You've caught me. I've actually been practicing it for years, and I just wanted to show off."
"You always do this!" Gilli exclaims, startling everyone at the volume of his voice. Merlin grabs his chest as his heart jumps. "You do something amazing, people question it, and you retreat like you've done something wrong." Gilli huffs. "You should accept the praise because they're well-deserved, Merlin, for Goddess' sake."
Merlin is touched by Gilli's belief in his abilities, but this is not the time to assert them.
Prince Clarence sneers, "And you're a gullible fool if you think someone can successfully do the ǣdran bespyrigaþ on their first try."
A glare sharpens Gilli's eyes. "I'm the fool when I assume that the person who survived the Forrotian Cwealm can accomplish more incredible deeds?"
"Enough," Mage Gaius' rough order has their mouths clicking shut. "We're not here to measure Prince Merlin's abilities." The emphasis on the title denotes that Mage Gaius has not missed Gilli's earlier slip. "We're here to measure yours. Now, resume your task!"
"Yes, sire," the apprentices respond, a few voices sulkier than others.
Merlin allows himself a quiet sigh of relief as the attention sluices away from him.
(Unbeknownst to everyone in the group, the Court Sorcerer has sent Mage Gaius a significant look mere seconds ago. A look that clearly says, 'Stop making my ill apprentice uncomfortable and move on with your lesson'. Mage Gaius has quickly heeded the advice.)
The lesson resumes around Merlin, and the warlock doesn't try to emulate the enchantments again. He listens, keeps them in mind, allows their demonstration upon his body, and vows to practice them away from anyone's eye.
Notably, none of the apprentices manage to successfully perform the ǣdran bespyrigaþ throughout the session. Prince Clarence's brief spark of blue upon an area of his arm is the most favorable result among them. Merlin understands the source of the commotion earlier better.
As the lesson proceeds, Merlin comes to a couple of conclusions.
While the base concepts of medicine are similar to Merlin's realm, its practices are vastly different. This realm's healers are heavily dependent on magic instead of science; nearly every brew is mixed with some spell, every wound-patching accompanied by an enchantment. Internal bleedings, which usually spell certain death in Merlin's realm, are only sometimes fatal in this realm because of a handy enchantment to temporarily cease the said bleeding.
Amazement fills Merlin at the differences. He mentally notes to look up the medical practices in a more in-depth manner so he can bring them back to his own Camelot.
Given that, he can't help but ask a couple of clarifying questions once in a while. Mage Gaius answers each of them succinctly but with enough details to leave Merlin satisfied. None of the apprentices complain about the interruptions in their lesson, fortunately.
Almost an hour later, as the mages prepare to depart, Mage Gaius favors Merlin with a thoughtful look. "I have heard your Apprentice Contract has been voided, Your Highness. Is this true?"
Behind him, Balinor bristles.
"Y-Yes. Lord Balinor is offering me a new one soon." Merlin glances at his mentor and hopes that statement is still true. Balinor, however, isn't looking at them, his gaze focused intensely upon the chessboard.
"Do you plan to sign it, Your Highness?"
Merlin frowns at the question. "Of course."
Mage Gaius lets out a hum. "If you reconsider, Your Highness, I'll be more than willing to take you as my apprentice."
Merlin's jaw drops, shock electrifying his limbs. From the corner of his eye, he sees Gilli's excited mien vibrating amidst the baffled apprentices.
Mage Edwin hastily inserts himself into the conversation. "Or, if you prefer a different mage as a mentor, you won't regret picking me, Your Highness."
Mage Gaius sends Mage Edwin an unamused stare, and the latter merely gives him a smirk.
Merlin licks his lips before lifting his head and meeting their eyes. "Thank you for the offer, my lords." Show gratefulness for the effort. "But I wish to remain as Lord Balinor's apprentice. I believe I'm more suited to be a sorcerer than a mage, and there will be no greater mentor for that than Lord Balinor." A firm refusal stating an irrefutable personal reason. "But I'm truly honored to be considered good enough to be offered an apprenticeship by talented mages such as yourselves." Additional flattery to soothe egos that may have been injured.
Neither mage appear offended by his words.
"Very well, Your Highness." Mage Gaius lets out a disappointed sigh and Mage Edwin follows suit. "But if you ever change your mind, know that the offer still stands."
Mage Gaius accepts the Court Sorcerer's venomous glare with aplomb. Mage Edwin winces and shrinks slightly at it.
With that, the mages leave the quarters without further commotion. Gilli waves goodbye with a large and infectious grin. Merlin waves back with a smile of his own.
"Interesting," Prince Arthur says, a pondering expression on his face. "Do that arm-lighting enchantment again."
"No. Go play your chess," Merlin replies, dropping his head on his pillow with a groan.
Evident disappointment wreaths across Prince Arthur's expression, which almost — almost — makes Merlin retract his statement and humor the prince.
"Are you in any pain?" Balinor asks, getting to his feet to approach his apprentice.
"No, I'm fine." Mage Edwin has given Merlin another dose of the pain-numbing tincture, and it's a heavenly gift indeed.
The Court Sorcerer sits back down and nods. "Good. Now tell me about this treasonous plan of yours."
"On second thought, I actually feel quite tired," Merlin immediately replies, slumping further into his pillows to demonstrate his supposed exhaustion.
"Checkmate," Prince Arthur says after moving his queen next to Balinor's king.
"Cease distracting me," Balinor snaps at them both. "Tell me."
"Balinor, have you so little faith in Merlin and I?" Prince Arthur asks with an arched brow.
"I don't trust you both at all," the Court Sorcerer answers without missing a beat and without hesitation. "Need I remind you what happened the last time you two were left to your own devices?"
Merlin squawks. "Are you blaming us for the attempted assassination? That's just unfair!"
"Mother even pilfered my impersonation totem," Prince Arthur interjects with a breath that may have been a sigh. "Will you make me one again, Balinor?"
"Not soon. Perhaps in a month's time," the Court Sorcerer answers. A hint of a scowl shades his features. "We're fortunate the queen's too busy with Tir Mor to properly investigate who gave it to you. Truly, Arthur, you should have hidden it better."
"I apologize for not thinking clearly when I had Merlin's blood all over me."
Merlin wrinkles his nose at the imagery while Balinor sends a remorseless Prince Arthur a rueful look. The prince resets the chessboard for their tenth game, ignoring their reactions.
"How do you make an impersonation totem?" Merlin asks before the silence can go on for too long and give Balinor time to ask his own questions.
The Court Sorcerer shifts a chestnut knight for his first turn in his new game with the prince.
When he speaks, his voice adopts the smooth cadence he uses during their lessons. "For magic-users, any type of crystal can be used as a catalyst. For non-magic-users, however, a special red crystal is needed. If the individual has no magic of their own, magical energy must be stored in the red crystal to activate the enchantment. Given that, the impersonation totem has a limited number of uses . . ."
For the next hour, Merlin and Prince Arthur distract the Court Sorcerer through various questions and needling.
Throughout, Merlin can't help but notice how the Court Sorcerer and the prince interact. The warlock has never really seen it at length before, even during the dragonlord lessons. The two of them speak without care for status and without any airs, carefree in their bickering. Merlin finds it amusing and perplexing at the same time.
Merlin is also glad to note that Balinor's parchmentwork remains untouched; his mentor can use a break.
When servants arrive with lunch and Morgana and Mordred accompany them mere minutes later, Balinor abruptly realizes he has been successfully misled. He dares not ask questions regarding their treasonous plan now lest others overhear and misunderstand.
He stares unimpressed at them both. Merlin replies with an unrepentant grin while Prince Arthur adopts a guileless and clueless mien.
Morgana and Mordred quickly get over their initial surprise over Prince Arthur's presence in the quarters. Morgana greets him and their mentor with a curious and pleased glint in her eyes. Mordred follows after her example with a lowered head and gaze.
"It was so tiring, Merlin," Morgana complains good-naturedly as they take their lunch. "The knights show us no mercy."
"No mercy at all," Mordred adds with a sigh. "I wish we could have chosen our sparring partners. Sir Lancelot was probably the most docile among the knights today."
Merlin almost snorts out his soup. "Sir Lancelot? Docile?"
"He's moping." Prince Arthur inserts himself into the conversation. He's playing chess by himself after Balinor has finally managed to steal back his documents. "Because a certain someone forbade him from visiting and guarding you."
"Oh, that explains his behavior," Morgana says with a nod.
The information simultaneously baffles and amuses Merlin. Grumpy Sir Lancelot is sulking because he isn't tasked to guard Merlin? That's simply ridiculous. The warlock has thought Sir Lancelot was angry at him for getting the knight into trouble. Or that he's been too busy to grace Merlin with his presence. But if the knight truly wishes to visit, Merlin has no desire to prevent that.
He likes Sir Lancelot's cantankerous presence. Besides, the knight is also very fun to rile up.
Merlin looks to his mentor, who can barely be seen amidst the flurry of flying parchments. "You forbade Sir Lancelot from visiting me? Why?"
"He enabled your tomfoolery," is the Court Sorcerer's curt reply. "I will not risk him doing so again."
"I bullied him into it," Merlin defends. "Don't blame him. And besides, I won't be leaving the room without permission again."
The Court Sorcerer looks up from his documents and levels Merlin with a measuring stare. After a beat of silence, "Very well. I'll recede his ban. But if he encourages your foolishness again . . ." Balinor trails off, letting Merlin conclude the end of that sentence.
Merlin silently vows not to get into any more trouble with Sir Lancelot, for the knight's sake.
"I'll inform Lancelot of the good news," Prince Arthur says, a small smile lilting the corners of his mouth.
Morgana and Mordred glance between the three of them before trading bewildered with themselves.
They finish their meals promptly and compile their dirty dishes out of the way. Morgana's and Mordred's eyes light up when Balinor asks if they are willing to take their afternoon lessons in the current quarters. The two give their enthusiastic agreement.
Merlin is pleased as well. After so many missed lessons, he's very excited to participate again, even bedridden.
Their mentor pats down his parchments, letting them arrange themselves into one pile. "For this afternoon, we'll be discussing and practicing some of the concepts in the third chapter of Poli —"
Balinor halts abruptly as an imperious knock resounds from the door. Prince Arthur straightens abruptly in his seat. Then, he gets to his feet and strides towards the area in front of the window, abandoning his chess game.
The knocker doesn't even wait for permission to come in. They push the door open without preamble.
Merlin realizes why a second later.
Queen Ygraine Pendragon enters the quarters with a flourish, flanked by her brothers Tristan and Agravaine. Behind them, five councillors dressed in luxurious deep-dyed clothing follow two steps behind. Merlin recognizes Lady Jayden and Lord Dalion among them.
The Court Sorcerer, Morgana, and Mordred rise to their feet. "Your Majesty."
Merlin bows his head. "Y-Your Majesty."
His heartbeat increases in pace, and his mouth goes dry.
This is it.
Merlin can only hope this confrontation with a Pendragon goes better than his last one.
❤•°o.O`•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´ ◇ⓛⓞⓥⓔ◇ `•.¸¸.•´´¯`••.¸¸.•´´¯`•´O.o°•❤
A/N:
"Big eyes, very big, because they are full of wonder! Eyes that have always seen the wonder in everything! Eyes that see lights in the trees and magic in the air!" – Nicholas St. North, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Thank you so much (again!) grilledcheeseandgravityfalls for the kofis!
I kept rewriting this chapter and the next one so I need to stop and just post it.
Next chapter should be up in a couple of days. I just split this off because the mood in the next scenes just switches to almost crack lmao.
Next up: The Plan™ implemented.
I hope everyone has an exciting and joyful week ahead!
~ Vividpast