29 Nirwarna's bliss

Gaius saw his life blood running out of him, and fast. The blood fell on the altar, then on the younger man's barely beating heart. The stone circle's magic rose, united with the old magician's own powers.

The connection came to life, immediately. As he'd found his way inside the Rashnijaan's spirit world six months earlier, Gaius now forced his way inside the warlock's mind.

So, going in was not a problem. Going on from there most definitely was.

And it had all seemed so easy when Gaius planned it.

As a healer, and as a magician, he knew that six months were more than enough time for the warlock's magic to recover from the ordeal inside the Rashnijaan. If the body didn't wake up it was because the spirit didn't want it to. Therefore, the spirit, the core magic that was Emry's life force, had to be called back from wherever it had withdrawn to. Who better to do this than the warlock's old friend Gaius, as usual standing in loco parenti?

Using the old sanctuary he'd found in the woods as well as his own knowledge of spiritual magic and mind-wandering this same Gaius, wise and clever, would bring the warlock back to the real world, in no time.

So far, so simple.

But, as Gaius had often muttered to himself whilst listening to Uther's high flying aspirations, life is what's happening to you while you're busy making other plans.

The healer had taken it for granted that, on entering the young warlock's mind, he'd find a perfect replica of Camelot, perhaps with some parts of Ealdor blended into it. What else should the injured warlock imagine as a refuge from the pain and fear he'd suffered? Doubtlessly Gaius would find him somewhere inside the 'castle', perhaps inside a room that looked vaguely like Arthur's chambers. The old, wise mentor would box the wizard's ears – metaphorically spoken – and bring him back to his senses.

One look at his surroundings and Gaius knew how far off his assumptions had been.

There was no castle, no village. Indeed, nothing he saw was even vaguely familiar. Gaius found himself surrounded by a vast landscape, unlike anything he – or anyone else, for that matter – had ever seen. Not even read about.

The world the injured warlock had made up as a sanctuary for his wounded, defiled spirit was completely his own.

Huge, snow covered mountains made up the far horizon. It was night, with a bright full moon bathing the scenery in her silvery light. Vegetation was wild, voluptuous, beautiful. Tall trees, bushes, flowers everywhere. The plant's fragrance mixed with the sounds of invisible animals roaming the dense, marvellous jungle.

At first, Gaius looked in vain for some way or road through the wilderness. This landscape had not been created for trespassing. Whoever lived here had no wish to be found.

Finally, the healer saw some hidden, narrow pathways. Almost completely overgrown they meandered through the brushwood, into darkness.

Gaius' courage faltered.

What had he been thinking? Camelot, Ealdor, the real world – call it what you like, it had brought the warlock no peace, no safety. All he'd found there was danger and grief. At first, it might have been an adventure but in the end, the hurt had been too much. Naturally, he'd one day recoil from it.

Emry's magic was a piece of nature, instinctive, inbred. He was singular, different, not like others. The day would come on which the warlock found out that he was safer, quieter and more at peace inside himself, inside his magic, than he would ever be among people.

Gaius had dreaded that day, right from the start. True enough, the warlock's human soul tied him to Camelot and to his friends. Under no normal circumstances he'd ever abandon them. But this time, things were different. The inner magic itself had been badly wounded by the demons. Compared to that, the human ties might not count for much.

Gaius knew he could wander through this labyrinth for hours, days, or weeks. This was dream time, he could have relived his whole life in this world but in the real world it would have been some seconds, not more.

And yet, in both worlds a human body with open veins would bleed out eventually.

If the young warlock didn't want to be rescued, Gaius wouldn't survive his mission.

The healer was shaking from head to toe when he finally spotted the lean figure sitting on a cliff's edge above an abyss. The moonlight danced on the raven black hair. Emry's face was turned to the sky, wistfully adoring the stars that speckled it. More than ever he looked like the Elfish Prince some people, tipped off by some half forgotten instinct, had taken him for. Gaius shivered as he realized that he had to look twice before he recognized his beloved boy in this remote, haughty man.

The warlock's silhouette, clearly painted against the nightly sky, showed squared shoulders. An erect neck and a forbidding, disinterested face.

But Gaius had no choice. Time was running out through his opened veins and he wasn't as young and strong as he'd once had been. "Please" he panted desperately. "Please, my boy, help me!"

"No." The warlock answered without turning, and he could not have been less interested in his visitor. "I can't help anyone. Go elsewhere."

"You must turn to me and help me or I'm going to die!"

"What has it to do with me?" Emrys asked. "I'm weak myself, I can no longer fight the world. Go away!" And he focused his attention back on the landscape.

Gaius shook his head. His throat tightened. Time, there was no time and yet he had to try another tack. "It's beautiful" he said. "This landscape, this canyon, the stars and sky – it's so very beautiful, my boy." And indeed, now that he said it, Gaius could hear and see the silver bond of a river flowing through the valley deep down below the slope the warlock was resting upon. Huge, friendly birds crossed the sky, in all colours of the rainbow.

"Yes, isn't it" Emrys muttered, still staring at the stars. "Nothing ever dies here. Nothing ever suffers. I only wish I had found this place before."

"And now you're thinking you can stay here and be part of it all. Never leave. Never come back to us." Gaius' sight was a bit fuzzy but still he saw the young shoulders move in disgusted rejection.

"I won't come back" Emrys said, and he sounded aggravated, for all his calm composure. "Why should I? I am no use to anyone back there. I like it here."

"I thought you liked us."

"It hurt" the warlock replied heatedly. "Being with you, it hurt. I'm at home here. It doesn't hurt here."

"But we need you, my boy. We can't go on without you."

Emrys shuddered. "I don't need you. Not any more. I thought I do. But I don't."

Gaius pulled himself together. "Please, my boy. Wouldn't you try? Just one last time."

"I did try" Emrys said vengefully. "I tried and I tried and I tried but in the end, I failed anyone and anyone failed me. It was all for nothing. I'm not one of you. I'm different. I belong here."

"You're the warlock born of legends. Our legends. You belong to us. To Camelot. To Arthur."

"No, I don't. Arthur finds other friends, people that are like him. People like Count Antek! I was welcome when he needed me, but not any more. Not after what has happened. Leave me alone!"

"My boy, please..."

"The man you're addressing was Arthur's servant remember? Well, he can no longer be of service to the Prince. The peasant boy has spent his powers and they weren't so very powerful when it counted most. Emrys – I – am no longer part of your world."

"I won't even pretend to understand the nonsense you're saying, my boy. Fact is that..."

"Am I not entitled to a life of my own?" Emrys interrupted, his pointing finger wandering from one side of the scenery to the other. "To a life that suits me?"

"This is no life, my boy. It's a delusion. A lie. The truth is, I'm dying. I am lost, all Camelot is lost, without you. For heaven's sake, you insolent brat, isn't that enough glory and acknowledgement for an army of warlocks? What more do you want?"

"I want nothing from you and I wish you wanted nothing from me."

Gaius had trouble breathing. He knew he was weakening by the second but he was something else, too. Angry! "How could you be of importance here? Do the birds here care about you? Or the trees? Do they talk with you, entertain you, quarrel with you, do they love you?"

"No they do not. They care about themselves. As do I. I'm like them. I have been born in a human body by mistake. That was the delusion, not this world. I was never meant to be human. I should have been a tree or a meadow or a stream."

"For the love of the Great Mother" Gaius yelled "stop it! This is insufferable. Your magic is a spoilt brat, a little touch-me-not, I've always known that, it's as capricious and addicted to appreciation as an elderly diva. I promise I will scrap and bow to it for all I'm worth, but after you've saved my arse!"

"You don't need help, you're making this up to trick me into coming with you!" Emrys was visibly proud of his own cleverness that saw through the scheme so quickly.

Gaius was at his wits' ends. "I've cut open all four veins in my wrists, I'm bleeding like a slaughtered pig, my sight is blackening, my legs are trembling, my heart is fluttering, my hands are shaking and would you please realize that we don't have time for your childish sulking here?"

At last, Emrys got up, turned round and faced the old man, with a puzzled frown. "You cut open your veins? Why should anyone do a thing like that? It's stupid!"

"One needs stupid ways if one is talking to stupid people!" Gaius snapped breathlessly. The jungle, the canyon, the landscape grew hazy before his eyes; the stone circle and forest shone through it, like a picture through a thin veil. "Oh my Gods, please..."

The healer's legs gave way and he fell to his knees, swaying. His arms ached abominably and he felt sick. His body was heavy, and growing heavier.

His mind shed the decades that had made him into an old man. Gaius was the teenage pupil of the Blessed Isle's Temple of Healers once again and his last spell was going awry, oh yes it was, he should have listened to his tutors, he was only a young apprentice after all, he should have listened to the elders when they told him what he could and what he could not do...

A pair of arms held him before he toppled over on his face. "Gaius" Merlin said. "Gaius, what have you done?"

"Told you" the teenage would-be healer said. "Told you I wouldn't let you go. Never ever. Just can't. You're the purpose of my life!" He winked playfully. It had been a good joke. His friend was really worried now. Look at the great warlock, the pride of the Isle, the best of the best, look at him, frowning and fretting like a clueless peasant boy from the back of beyond. It had been worth it.

"Gaius!" Merlin called out. "Gaius, you fool, what have you done to yourself?"

"Must come with me now" was Gaius' laboured reply. "Can't leave me like that, can you?" He gulped and moaned under a sudden pain, then he frowned. "Really got myself sick this time, didn't I? Maybe... maybe I overdid it a little..."

Nonetheless, Gaius closed his eyes with a satisfied smile. The young warlock had no longer ears nor eyes for the beautiful scenery around him, he was solely focused on his healer friend, as by rights he should be. A warm and gentle power touched Gaius' aching body. A bit angry, perhaps. A trifle more reluctant than it had felt in the past. Not quite as willingly, not quite as tender as it once had been. But sufficient. More than that, actually.

Without opening his eyes Gaius ignored the now duller pain, raised his arms and embraced his friend. All was well. The cuts on his' wrists closed. The mutilated, strained body began to heal.

All was well.

Merlin took a last, forlorn look at his beloved paradise where he'd been so very happy. Then he too closed his eyes. His magic continued to flow into the other's spirit and thereby left its sanctuary forever.