Nimueh was dead. Long dead, by Merlin's own magic. The Old Religion a wondrous thing, but it had given to much power to impure and selfish magics. Nimueh, Morgause, and now Morganna was rising. Morganna. Just how much of the Old Religion was she able to absorb and use as her own? Certainly part of her advancements was due to her half sister, but Morganna's natural talent was that of the seer.
Gaius had often spent sleepless nights thinking about Merlin and his place in the world. The Old Religion showed favoritism to the priestesses that rose throughout the ages. Occasionally a talented sorcerer would climb to the top, but these sorcerers were never Priests of the Old Religion. Sigan had been a legendary wielder of power. He had been creative and extremely gifted – and Merlin had defeated him as well.
Certainly it helped to have a dragon behind Merlin to teach him the most difficult of spells and enchantments. It helped, but if that were all that was needed – Uther would have found them untouchable. However, Merlin's magic was different than any other human magic user than Gaius had ever known. It was natural. Instinctual. The boy mastered the most difficult of spells almost instantly, his instinctual magic managed to defeat Nimueh in the most frightening way, and most disturbingly – spells that would take a hideous amount of concentration seemed to provide no ill effects.
The boy has seen Avalon, the Crystal Cave, and had journeyed to the perilous lands.
Even though the boy's parentage was known, there were those few times when, Gaius doubted the boy was human at all. The druids called him Emrys and the druids knew some of what the great dragon knew. However, it wasn't enough to calm Gaius on nights like this, when his ward was convinced that the weather itself was yielding to Merlin's state of mind.
Creatures of magic were persecuted as much as anyone who had magic. Uther had given no quarter to the Old Religion. He struck a blow at it at any and every given opportunity. Attacks had become frequent. Most sorcerers were to weak, talent wise, to face the arsenal that Uther had at his disposal.
Rain beat mercilessly against the windows as if the storm were a demon begging to be let into the room. The night was cold enough to stir the stiffness into the bones of an old man's body. Nature was throwing a tantrum and the noise distracted Gaius from his thoughts. He felt an overwhelming need to help Merlin through this "illness" and no matter how much he tried to understand the problem, Merlin, he never could fully connect the concepts.
Eventually the rain grew silent, but the winds still raged.
"Merlin is a mystery," stated Gaius in his fondest voice as he glanced at his wards room.
Gaius, finally ready for sleep, walked around his chambers guttering the candles one by one. Tendrils of smoke aromatically lifted and snaked around him like wispy shackles. Merlin had made these candles when he was practicing to make his mother one of his care packages.
Merlin was like a jewel. The devoted son was a whole other facet to the Warlock who was by instinct blindingly beautiful. He would be a man capable of doing what no other could ever dream of, but learning how to make lavender candles had been as much of a priority as maintaining Arthur's happiness and existence.
lightning brilliantly lit up the room and a crash of thunder followed in quick succession. It wasn't the time of year to expect such a storm nor had the conditions been correct to give birth to such circumstances.
The castle rattled.
One candle left.
Gaius sighed, he knew would probably not sleep due to the noise, but he was going to lay down and give it his best effort.
Arthur burst into the physicians chambers accompanied by two guards.
More lightning lit up the room.
"Gaius, I need your counsel," said the future king in a voice that was heavy with fear and concern. The young man's face was shadowed in the dark. Gaius could not read his expression. Arthur was half begging and half commanding, "Look outside and tell me that isn't sorcery. Look outside, Gaius. Please."
The moon in all its glory, fought to show it's illuminated face through the canopy of clouds. Winds raged savagely. That much, had been expected. He already knew that the lightning and thunder were probably unnatural, but he hadn't been concerned. What really surprised the elderly, was the snow.
"Sire, it's snowing."
Arthur was at the physician's shoulder, slightly trembling, "Yes Gaius. I could see that for myself. What I'm asking is – is this storm sorcery? Please, Gaius. I'm not accusing you of sorcery. I'm asking about the nature of this storm."
Gaius picked up the last remaining candle and began using it to relight the other tapers in his chambers. Each lit candle allowed the elderly man to evaluate the royal. Nervous. He had obviously thrown on clothing as quickly as possible, since he was badly put together.
The lecture that he had given Arthur, at the very least, had been considered. Arthur was trying to be respectful of the court physician, but he was also desperate to get an answer. Since Gaius had doubled as an adviser to what could or could not be sorcery, he was in an awkward position for what he suspected about this storm would alarm the Pendragon. The truth weighed on his old tongue, but he spoke it anyway.
"This storm is unusual, Sire. That I am sure of," Gaius's voice was deep but soft as he delivered his verdict, "I do not know of any sorcerer who would ever be able to conjure conditions like this. There's never been any legend of any sorcerer with the talent or the ability. However, this storm – as I said, is not natural even though no one has conjured..."
Arthur cut him off, the royal was confused, "You're saying it's unnatural but that it isn't the product of sorcery? That doesn't make any sense, Gaius. How can that be?"
"The storm itself, Sire, I suspect is Magic."
It had been a rough morning. Nightmares about Nimueh, followed by a cranky Gaius who hadn't gotten enough sleep, and topped by a paranoid Pendragon was not the way to begin the day. Merlin was frayed and vulnerable even before the emergency counsel meeting had been announced. As luck would have it, the meeting itself would make him feel so much more worse.
Merlin stood like a pale and sweaty pillar of angst behind his master as counselors and knights took their places at the round table. His job, according to Arthur, was simple, keep goblets full and keep his mouth shut. There were serving tables hidden behind draperies that he could duck behind to fill his pitchers. If Arthur noticed Merlin struggling to pour, he didn't say or do anything.
Having no time or no mind to do anything about his manservant's struggles, Arthur was trying to lead the conference to discuss the same subject that had been an on going issue throughout his entire life: Magic. He opened by acknowledging the weather and the strangeness that surrounded this storm. The lightning and wind mixed with a heavy snow, had never happened before. The bolts of the lightning were blue, red, and sometimes gold. If it weren't so frightening, it would be beautiful. Gaius had trust new ideas at him the night before and he was hoping that through collective intelligence: he might find the wisdom that would lead to how to deal with this new challenge.
Gaius stood when signaled and began to explain magic at Arthur's silent request, "My Lord," began the old man with a small bow towards Arthur, "thank you for giving me an opportunity to speak about sorcery and magic to the counselors and honorable knights. Sorcery is man's attempt to harness and access magic by use of words, rituals, and runes. They build totems, make enchanted objects, and beseech the gods of the Old Religion. Those who crave more power tend to dabble in the darker aspects of magic. They use magic for their own gain. They use creatures of magic to tap into greater powers to carry the burden of their greed or as instruments of their will. There were sorcerers who never misused magic and I'm sure that the ones who have survived the purge, are unknown and still practicing magic. That said, magic creatures do not have the same limits that sorcerers do."
The elderly physician took a drink from his goblet. His voice was hoarse from talking and he still had much to explain. He glanced at Merlin who was shivering in his boots and purposefully not making any eye contact.
"Magic Creatures are not Creatures of Magic. A unicorn is a creature of magic. A unicorn is purity incarnate. Innocence. It is hope. A manticora is a magical creature. A creature that was made using magic. It is a man made monster that has the head of man and the body of a lion and the tail of a scorpion. It is dark magic. It uses dark magic. It is hatred, injustice, greed, and its malevolence is channeled into the poison it uses."
Aggravaine began to laugh. The middle aged man's face was etched with amusement. He did not look apologetic at all that he had interrupted, "Gaius, is this some sort of," he gestured vaguely with his hand in a circular motion, "round about way for you to reintroduce us to a new way of thinking of magic now that our king, King Uther, is incapacitated? This is a unique way to stab his life's work in the back."
"My Lord, I'm sorry you feel that way. If you would like to try to explain the weather, feel free to do so," said Gaius politely as he sat down. Lord Aggravaine had effectively silenced him, but instead of looking upset or disturbed – the Court Physician had a small grin on his face.
The dark haired lord threw back his head arrogantly as he stated, "I don't see how making distinctions between unicorns and manticoras and discussing the intentions of sorcerers explains the weather. Obviously, as lovable as you are, Gaius, you're getting on in years. Your sense has become senseless and as endearing as that is – it doesn't help in these circumstances."
Arthur attempted to bring things to order, "Well if you had allowed him to finish, we would have found out. Gaius, if you would continue?"
The elderly man stood again and straightened out his fading robes, "Where I was going with my explanation is that there are things or creatures that are born of magic, like the unicorn. There are something that are made from the manipulation of magic like the manticora or the lamia. Cursed creatures. This storm is more like a unicorn. This storm is of magic, but it is not benign or malevolent. It just is."
Aggravaine beamed, "So you are saying there's nothing we can do?" He tapped his goblet impatiently and Merlin scurried over and filled the vessel with shaky hands.
"No. That is not what I am saying," explained the elderly man, "I'm saying that our best way to handle this is to wait. If the storm is of magic, we cannot slay it. Weather isn't something we can wear down, but it can wear us down. I do not know any one of any thing that's ever been able to control the weather like this. One thing would be hard enough but for all three? No. To conjure lightning, make it snow, make it rain, and control the winds for this amount of time would take an immense amount of power even if the sorcerer were using a vessel. This is unheard of – it's impossible."
"The priestesses of the Old Religion were considered to be creatures of magic, direct conduits to the gods. They were more than mere mortals by the end of their ceremonies," supplied Geoffrey of Monmouth.
"That is very true. The priestesses were formidable, but even they had to work in numbers or wait for days of the year when power would be more easily accessed. With Nimueh and Morgause gone, that leaves Morganna. Morganna does not have a mentor. She does not have the luxury of being able to contact other priestesses or working with them. She's incomplete. She will never be able to access power naturally. If she ever does possess great power, she most definitely will have had to descend into dark magic."
"Gone?" Arthur interrupted, "How do you know that they are gone?"
Gaius met the clear blue eyes of the young Pendragon and stated, "Nimueh was reported dead to me not long after your incident with the questing beast. Morgause was most likely the blood sacrifice that opened the veil that released the Dorocha . Morganna sacrificed her half sister in order to strike a blow to Camelot."
"Magic is truly evil," Arthur said with a shiver.
Gaius shook his head, "It was not magic that did that deed. They used magic, but it was not magic that was responsible. It was humans who were arrogant enough to meddle with forces that no mortal should dare think about nonetheless actually attempt."
Geoffrey coughed gently before he added, "I've done some research on the Dorocha. It is said that any one who releases them into the living world will be doomed. A creature of the Old Religion will not be able to ignore the one who tore the veil and that misfortune will be followed by an early death."
Aggravaine and Merlin both took sharp intakes of breath.
"Most of the creatures of the Old Religion are dead. We've killed them," explained Arthur as he dismissed the idea of Morganna receiving her just desserts by some equalizing force of magic.
"I'd like to believe that, Sire, but," Geoffrey said while flushing at the his own nerve for disagreeing with Arthur, "It says here..." he muttered as he took out a scroll and smoothed it out carefully. He glanced around quickly and then began to read, "And it will be he who walks in the shadows who will take his first steps upon the earth as thee Emrys. Named twice but unknown, he shall be the Doom to the one who tears the veil. He will be the Emrys Warlock. Magic in the flesh. No man will ever be as powerful or as wise. No man will ever love more or suffer less. Unrecognized in his glory until the glory leaks from within, unstoppable... and then the rest of the text is damaged. I cannot provide any more information about this Warlock. I had found this in a book of prophecy when I was looking for information about the Dorocha."
"Warlock?" Arthur asked.
Geoffrey answered, "It means liar. Well it means "oath breaker," those who have the greatest magic are Warlocks. They defy nature by being born magic so this Warlock's very being is like breaking the laws of nature. Apparently this Emrys is supposed to be the one and only true Warlock. It's an old term people used to use and throw around for male witches, but it means so much more than that."
Merlin was clutching the wall behind him. Gwaine stifled a chuckle as he toyed with the idea that anyone looking at him would of thought that he was afraid that this warlock thing was going to come and eat his soul. Merlin really was to much of an innocent.
"Didn't you ask me about Emrys," Gaius turned on Aggravaine, eyebrows reaching a new height in his inquiry.
"Uncle?"
"I did. Yes," confirmed Aggravaine. He was quick witted and the excuses came naturally, "I had heard that there was a Warlock named Emrys using magic from within Camelot, supposedly to help Camelot. Many people have different ideas about what 'help' is and I was investigating. We cannot have some insane vigilante running around inside Camelot, especially not the sorcerer sort."
"Well, Uncle, Apparently this Emrys is not a sorcerer and you are right to want to find him," said Arthur in approving tones.
The storm outside raged on.