Chapter XVI: The First Lesson

Merlin had been thinking about his upcoming magical theory lesson all day. He wasn't anticipating the material—no doubt he and Gaius had covered that months ago. Instead, he was trying to figure out what it meant that Arthur was demonstrating interest in learning more about magic.

That had to be a good thing, right? It showed that he was curious, starting to ask questions. Curiosity was good. Even better, he was asking his questions to Gaius, not to his father. Gaius wouldn't answer with that old tired line about how magic is evil and must be destroyed and blah blah blah. Gaius would answer honestly. Honest answers might make him doubt Uther's propaganda.

And Merlin knew, he just knew that his light had something to do with this. Yes, Sophia and Aulfric had nearly killed Arthur, but other sorcerers had nearly killed him and he hadn't asked for lessons after those experiences. He hadn't asked for lessons after the Cave of Balor, either, but perhaps he'd thought the light was a one-time event or some weird manifestation of the cave's power. Now he knew that that wasn't true, and he wanted to learn more about magic.

So Merlin was quite excited about the lesson. He channeled that energy into his chores, polishing like a fiend until Arthur went on his little walk. Their conversation atop the tower put a bit of a damper on Merlin's enthusiasm. What if Arthur found something that incriminated his manservant? He supposed he would just say something like, "Well, Arthur, you know that I was running around the forest all day looking for you. I probably just passed by here." Merlin didn't think that was particularly likely, but Arthur was a better tracker than he was.

Ah, well. There was always sabotage.

Time passed at a crawl. It was an eternity before the servants began clearing away dishes and silverware. Finally Arthur rose and strode towards the physician's chambers.

Gaius was seeing to a patient, a kitchen girl who had been burnt a few days ago and developed an infection. Sir Leon was there as well, though Merlin couldn't see anything wrong with him. He supposed that the knight might be sick or something.

"I'll be ready in just a moment, sire," Gaius said, not looking up from his inspection of the kitchen girl's wound. "You can sit with Sir Leon at the cleared table."

Merlin trotted to his chamber. As he rummaged through his possessions, he heard Arthur ask, "Leon's learning too?"

"Yes," the knight said. "I'm not quite certain what it is we're learning, though. The king just said something about me being more reliable than an idiot savant and therefore less likely to doom Camelot."

Arthur laughed. "Did you hear that, Merlin?" he called.

Merlin pretended to have gone temporarily deaf. He remained in his room, shuffling about as though searching for something even though h e'd already gotten what he was looking for. He hadn't exactly hidden it, just placed it in the midst of some other books that he wanted to read when he had time or that he used to practice his languages or to help Lancelot learn to read.

"So what are we learning about?" Leon queried.

"Sorcerers," Arthur replied. "Magical creatures. How to defeat the things that constantly try to doom Camelot."

"Then why is it just the two of us? You would think that every knight and guardsman should learn that sort of thing."

"Apparently learning about magic is just one small step away from learning magic itself," Arthur grumbled. Merlin could practically hear him roll his eyes. "I guess he didn't want the entire garrison turning into sorcerers."

"Oh." Leon sounded rather dubious, which Merlin was pleased to hear.

"It didn't make much sense to me either," Arthur confessed. "Perhaps that can be our first lesson."

"All done here," Gaius murmured to the kitchen girl. "It's healing well. You should be as good as new by the end of the week."

"Thank you, Gaius," the girl mumbled. She bobbed a quick curtsey to Arthur and darted out of the room.

Merlin chose that moment to make his return. He carried his notebook in one hand and a small, half-full inkwell in the other. His quill was currently acting as a bookmark. "There's more ink for when we run out. I thought that we could share, if only to save a bit of space."

The knights just blinked at him.

"Weren't you planning on taking notes?" Merlin demanded.

"I thought that this was some sort of hands-on medical lesson," Leon protested, holding up his hands in an age-old gesture of pacification.

Merlin supposed that was a decent enough excuse, so he grabbed a few loose sheets of parchment from one of the other tables. "You can find somebody to bind it later," he said.

"Aren't you forgetting something, Merlin?" Arthur demanded.

"No. I consciously chose not to get you any parchment because you knew exactly what this was and you didn't bother to bring anything, you lazy dolt."

"You don't have much room to call anyone a lazy dolt."

Gaius cleared his throat. "I think that that's enough. Merlin, get some parchment for Arthur."

"All right, Gaius."

"How do you do it?" Arthur asked. "How do you make him listen to you?"

"He doesn't," the physician grumbled. "Merlin does as he pleases. Occasionally he chooses to do as I say, but I would hardly bet my life on his obedience."

"I am right here, you know," Merlin reminded them.

"How could we forget?" muttered Leon.

Arthur laughed. Gaius chuckled. Even Merlin cracked a grin.

When the laughter died down, the physician addressed his students. "Since everyone has paper and quills, we ought to get started. The first thing we need to do is establish a basic vocabulary. Most of the terms used to describe magic are interchangeable when used colloquially. People simply don't know any better, so they refer to, say, a warlock as a wizard or a sorcerer. However, since we're going to be studying magic academically, we need to understand the terms."

This was essentially the same lecture that Gaius had given Merlin a few months ago, right after he'd referred to himself as a wizard. He probably wouldn't have to take notes, but he opened his book to the first page anyways. There was always a chance that Gaius would mention some new information.

"The first, most fundamental difference among magic users is the difference between sorcerer and sorceress and warlock and witch. Do you have any guesses what it might be?"

"Power?" Leon suggested.

"Not at all. That's the second difference we'll discuss. Arthur?"

The prince frowned, brow furrowing in thought. "One sort is fully corrupt and the other isn't?"

Merlin choked.

Gaius's eyebrow shot straight up.

Arthur flushed ever so slightly. "Then what is the difference?"

"Sorcerers and sorceresses need to learn to access magic. Their power is learned, not innate. Witches and warlocks are born with magical power lying dormant in their veins. Eventually, they manifest their innate abilities unconsciously. They don't need to learn magic, just control."

Arthur looked as though he'd been hit in the face with a fish. A live one, at least fifteen pounds, flopping around and covered in slime. "But that's not possible," he protested.

"Which part isn't possible?"

"People can't be born with magic!" he erupted.

"Yes, they can be." Gaius was frowning at him. "I thought you knew this."

"No, I thought—but they can stop, can't they? I mean, a person could be born predisposed to, I don't know, getting raging drunk, but they can always choose not to drink."

"They can try," Gaius admitted. "The weaker witches and warlocks might even succeed. But what usually happens is that a witch or warlock who has gone too long without using magic will manifest their power in their sleep."

"In their sleep?"

"Yes. Control is weaker when the conscious mind isn't awake. The magic either slips out by itself, often in the form of a nimbus of light, or the warlock casts a spell in his dreams. The spell then manifests in the waking world."

"But wouldn't that happen even if the sorc—sorry, warlock was using magic while awake?" Leon interjected. "Using it in his sleep, I mean."

"It usually doesn't. No one is quite sure why, but a warlock who uses magic during the day rarely slips up at night. I once read a theory that control is like a single stream of water moving through two adjacent pipes. The water is magic. The first pipe is daytime usage, the second unconscious usage at night. If the first pipe is kept unblocked, then one can easily stop up the second pipe so that all water flows through the first. If, however, one attempts to block both pipes, the water pressure will continue to build until it breaks through the weaker barrier, which is almost always the second pipe."

"But," Arthur protested, "what you're saying is that some people have no choice."

"They don't," Gaius confirmed.

"That's not true," Merlin interrupted. "They can choose which pipe to block up."

"About using magic!" Arthur bellowed. "He's saying—you're saying that there are people who have to use magic."

"Yes," Gaius confirmed.

Arthur just shook his head. He still looked as though he'd been beaten repeatedly by that enormous, flopping fish.

"Sire?"

Gaius's concern broke through Arthur's daze. The prince blinked rapidly, gave his head a little shake, then squared his shoulders and commanded, "Continue the lesson, Gaius."

"Very well." The physician paused for a moment, probably to remember where he was at in his lecture.

"Sorcerers and witches are both spellbinders. 'Spellbinder' is the most general term for a practitioner of magic. Weak or powerful, born with the gift or not, everyone who can perform magic is considered a spellbinder. This term even refers to passive receptacles of magic such as seers, who can glimpse the future but often possess no other magical ability."

"Right," Leon mumbled, scribbling down the information. Merlin sincerely hoped that he wasn't recording Gaius's every word. He didn't want the knight to get hand cramps.

A quick look into the inkwell revealed that they didn't have much ink left, probably due to Leon's overly thorough note keeping. Merlin padded towards the cabinet where Gaius kept his ink, grabbed a bottle of black, and returned. Neither Arthur nor Leon noticed. They had been too intent on Gaius's lecture.

"Spellbinders are also divided along lines of strength," Gaius had said. "It's comparable to how some men can physically lift more weight than others. Magical strength depends on many factors, just as muscular strength does: frequency and intensity of use, natural ability, endurance, exhaustion. A person's raw magical power can and does change over time. All sorcerers start out at the very bottom, and they, like witches and warlocks, gain power through practice and experience.

"The weakest spellbinders are the hedgewitches and hedgewizards. This is the most common level, about fifty to fifty-five percent of all spellbinders, or at least it was before the Purge began. I suspect that the Purge caught mostly hedgewizards and hedgewitches, who were too weak to escape. More powerful spellbinders would have stood a better chance.

"Hedgebinders can perform basic magic and not much more. They can telekinetically move small and medium-sized objects, but have difficulty levitating, say, a cow. They can create small fires and control the flames to an extent. They can ward off insects and sometimes rodents. Their magic is of the simple sort, but even a hedgebinder can be dangerous if he is resourceful enough."

Arthur nodded. "Knives are small objects."

"They are," the physician agreed.

The physician's ward scowled. Really, Gaius? Did you really have to bring up danger? He really should have just gone on with harmless cantrips, wart removal and boiling water and other innocuous, innocent uses for magic. But no, he just had to bring up danger.

"Wizards form the next rank. They aren't quite as common as hedgewizards, but they still comprise about thirty-five to forty percent of the magical population. Wizards can do everything hedgebinders can do and more. They can lift larger weights, heal wounds more serious than scratches and warts, speed the growth of plants, and many other things. Edwin Muirden was a wizard. A hedgewizard could not have controlled the Elanthia beetles like he did."

Merlin glanced sideways at Arthur. The prince's lips were a thin line. His left hand clenched into a fist.

"I was also a wizard."

Leon's head snapped up. Arthur's eyes went wide, his fist unclenching.

Gaius smiled indulgently. "Did you truly think that I wouldn't speak of my own years as a sorcerer? Surely you knew that I was one."

"Well, yes," Arthur admitted, "but I don't think I've ever heard you talk about it." Leon nodded.

"It doesn't seem particularly prudent to go about reminding people what I used to be."

"A sorcerer, not a warlock," Leon murmured.

"Yes." Gaius's eyes clouded over. "If I were a warlock, I'd be dead. Uther would have killed me. He nearly had me executed anyways, and only my oath to give up magic kept my head and body attached. No, Arthur, don't look at me like that. You know it's true."

The prince flushed. "But you know it would have been to save you, right, Gaius?"

The infamous eyebrow shot straight up. "He would have saved me by chopping off my head?"

Arthur's blush deepened but he didn't back down. "From the corruption," he explained. "Magic—it's like a disease. It gets inside your soul and starts twisting it and soiling it until there's nothing left but rage and evil."

Merlin hadn't thought it was possible for Gaius to raise his eyebrow higher, but the old physician proved him wrong. "Where in the world did you get that idea?"

Arthur's lips went white. The flush left his cheeks, leaving him pale and sickly. "But that's what happens, isn't it?"

"Of course not," Gaius said. "Magic can corrupt, that is true, but so can all other forms of power. Just look at King Alined. He has power, not magic, and his corruption is practically proverbial."

"But royal power doesn't always corrupt," Arthur snapped, probably reacting to a perceived insult against his father.

Gaius smiled an odd little half-smile. "I never said it does."

Arthur's jaw went slack.

Merlin bit his lip to stop himself from grinning like a maniac.

"One more definition, I think, and then I'll dismiss class for the day. Now, where was I?"

"Wizards," Leon supplied.

"Yes, wizards. As I said, I used to be one. I was not a particularly powerful wizard, but I never wanted power. I had strength enough to bind up most surface wounds, stop a cut from bleeding, and prevent infection. I could not mend broken bones in moments, as I once saw a peer of mine do, but I could speed their healing. I could strengthen mundane remedies, make them more potent with magic. And I could have done many other things as well, but I focused mostly on healing and a little bit of self-defense, for I knew that physicians sometimes had to work on battlefields."

"That's what you used it for?" Arthur squeaked.

"For the most part, yes. I once attempted to clean the leech tank with magic, but that was something of a disaster."

"What happened?" Merlin asked.

"It's not relevant, Merlin." But there was a pink tint to Gaius's cheeks. Merlin scrawled a note on his hand: Ask about leeches.

"The rarest, most powerful type of spellbinder is the mage." Gaius was serious again, a calm lecturer. His eyes bored into each of them, but they lingered a bit longer on Merlin.

"Cornelius Sigan, who built this citadel, was a mage, and a powerful one. It's said he could command the tides themselves. Most mages are not quite as strong, but they can still call or banish storms, lift enormous weights, change virtually any substance into almost any other substance, and heal all but the gravest of wounds." His gaze went distant. "Some could create life itself, and only a mage can mirror life and death.

"This requires a great deal of training, of course. Most mages have to study for months before they could, say, call down lightning. But mages can also put a great deal of strength into simple, basic spells, such as creating heat. A hedgebinder could melt the snow on his roof. A wizard could melt metal. A mage could melt stone."

Yes, Merlin was quite capable of melting stone. He could probably melt the entire castle if he felt like it. He had the brute strength and the proper spell. Why he would ever want to, though, he had no idea.

"We can continue building vocabulary next lesson," Gaius said, "as I think that some of us need some time to absorb some of the information." His eyes rested on Arthur, who grimaced. He no longer looked like he was being hit repeatedly in the face by a live fish. He looked like he'd just suffered through the fish-beating and was now warily staring at his attacker, wondering if and when he would pick up the poor battered piscine again.

"Does this time work for the three of you?"

"I'm usually available," Leon replied.

"As am I," Arthur agreed.

Merlin shrugged, pointed at his employer. "I'm stuck with him, so yes, I'm free."

"Unless my stables need mucking."

"All right. I'll hurry through the stable-mucking and come to meet you in the middle of the lesson." He smirked. "I won't have time to bathe, though, and I'll be sitting next to you."

"I think Merlin just won," Leon muttered to Gaius. The physician nodded.

Arthur stood. "I have things that need doing," he proclaimed. "Merlin, come to my chambers in three hours for your evening duties. Until then, just do… whatever it is you do for Gaius."

"Okay."

"I need to get going as well. I have a meeting with Sullivan," Leon said.

"Is he going to enjoy this meeting?" Merlin asked.

"Probably not."

"Good. He really needs to take his job more seriously."

"He does," the curly-haired knight agreed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Merlin, Gaius, sire."

Arthur and Leon made their way to the door. Soon they were gone.

"I think that went rather well," Gaius declared.

"I think so too," Merlin agreed. "There's just one thing I want to know."

"What?"

"What exactly happened with that leech tank?"

Morgana ducked into an alcove as the kitchen girl passed. She and Gwen huddled there in the shadows until she was gone.

"You know what to do, right?" the lady asked.

"Yes. If anyone comes down the hall, I'm to engage them in conversation so you have time to hide." The maid patted her broomstick. "Other than that, I just need to look inconspicuous." Which she would. A servant girl sweeping the floor was practically invisible.

"Thank you."

Gwen smiled shyly. "You would do the same for me."

"I think I'd attract a bit more attention if I picked up a broom."

"Yes," Gwen chuckled, "you probably would. But you know what I mean."

"I do," Morgana confirmed.

The girls moved into place: Gwen to the end of the hallway which led to the physician's quarters, Morgana right up to the door to Gaius's chamber. She pressed her ear against the wood, hoping that she hadn't missed too much of the magic lesson.

She hadn't.

"—exactly what this was and you didn't bother to bring anything, you lazy dolt," Merlin's voice said.

Morgana relaxed. If Merlin and Arthur were bantering, then the class hadn't even started yet. She was safe.

She stayed there through the lesson, ear pressed against the door, listening as Gaius defined various types of spellbinders. She was most intrigued by a brief reference to seers, but the physician only mentioned them. He didn't give much of an explanation. Hopefully that meant he was saving it for a later lesson.

Finally the lesson was over. Morgana stuck around long enough to hear that they would be meeting at the same time next week before she made her escape.

Gwen looked up from her sweeping. "How did it go?"

"Well, I think," Morgana replied. Gaius had been a bit friendlier than expected towards magic, Arthur had had his mind blown (which was always a bonus, in her opinion), and she had picked up some good background information. "Have you ever heard of seers?"

"I think I've heard the term, but I can't recall what it means," Gwen admitted. She swept the last motes of dust into her dustpan and returned to her usual place at Morgana's side. "I would guess, though, that they can see into the future?"

"I think so," Morgana answered. "Gaius didn't define the term, but I think that you're right and seers can look into the future. " I think I'm one, she didn't need to say. "They're technically considered a type of spellbinder, even though they might never be able to cast a spell."

"Good," Gwen declared, relieved. "That is, not good that they're spellbinders, but good that they don't have any of the flashier magics."

"Some of them can," Morgana corrected. She explained what Gaius had said about witches, about how their magic manifested.

"But he also said that seers aren't necessarily witches," Gwen pointed out.

"He did," Morgana admitted, "but…."

"You're still worried."

By now, they had reached Morgana's room. The two young women sat down on her bed, leaning their backs against the posts so they faced each other. Their voices were a bit louder now that they didn't have to worry about someone coming around the corner and catching them in a discussion about magic.

"I think that my mother was a sorceress, not a witch," Morgana said. "She gave it up when the Purge started."

"Which makes you less likely to be a witch," Gwen said.

"Yes," Morgana agreed, "but it's still possible."

Gwen sighed heavily. "It is," she admitted softly, sadly, "but I don't know what we can do about that other than wait and see."

Morgana smiled sadly. "Neither do I, Gwen. Neither do I."

Technically, it is still Christmas Eve where I am. Technically.

More observant/obsessive readers might remember that Gaius's vocabulary has been used earlier in this fic. Whether it's used correctly or not depends on the POV character. Arthur, for instance, would have mixed up pretty much everything, while Nimueh knew the correct definitions for each term. I originally wasn't going to use spellbinder, but then I realized that if there was a term for born-with-magic and not-born-with-magic people with magic, there really ought to be a term for people-who-have-magic. A quick look at the thesaurus gave me 'spellbinder,' which doesn't have another definition in my head-canon and sounds a lot nicer than 'magic user.'

Next update: January 1. Arthur and Merlin take a hunting trip.

Alternate chapter title: "Wherein Arthur Pendragon is Repeatedly Slapped in the Metaphorical Face by a Large Metaphorical Fish"

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

-Antares