…Three days ago…At the Dark One Castle…
As soon as Henry and Merlin arrived at the front steps of the castle, Henry immediately let go of the old man's shoulders. With the sun high in the sky, Henry finally turned to get a better look at his ungrateful companion. Merlin's long white beard flowed down to his chest which was covered by a brown wool shirt. Henry couldn't tell if the garment was originally brown or if it was years of dirt saturated into the material, but his pants seemed most uncomfortable being that they appeared to have been made of burlap. The last striking quality about Merlin's attire that Henry noticed was the old wizard's feet. As if Merlin wasn't strange enough already, the old man wasn't wearing any shoes. What was this powerful wizard doing not wearing any shoes? It begged questioning, but Henry had more pertinent questions that demanded answering.
Merlin turned to see his rescuer and squinted from all the sunlight. The sunlight felt good on both of their skins again and upon soaking up the sun's rays, Merlin smiled. Merlin got what he wanted. Light.
"You got what you wanted, so what do we do…" said Henry as he trailed off. The moment Merlin's eyes opened, Henry recognized something very familiar. Perhaps it was the shape of Merlin's face or the combination of the two. He couldn't put his finger on it. Before Henry could speculate on what it was, Merlin interrupted his thought.
"…now?" said the old wizard, finishing Henry's sentence. "We go in!"
Affronted Henry said, "Not even a thank you, huh?"
"Thanks," said Merlin shortly as if Henry saving him was an inconvenience.
Henry shook his head indignantly as Merlin proceeded towards the castle on his own. They walked into the castle's foyer and were about to enter the main room when Henry suddenly remembered Rumplestiltskin's booby-trap and ran in front of the old man to stop him.
"Wait! Let me. The doors are trapped," insisted Henry as he placed his body between the old man and the door. Merlin ignored Henry, pushing him to the side as he pressed forward. It was strange seeing how confident and comfortable Merlin was entering the Dark One's castle. It almost appeared as if he knew every inch of it. He even knew of the front doors that burst into flames if you tried to open it with your bare hands. When Henry first visited the castle he used magic to open them, but Merlin knew of a different trick. He approached the giant oak doors slowly and grabbed the doorknobs using the cloth of his wool shirt. With great success and little effort on his end, he opened the doors. Henry was amazed, "How did you know…?"
"My dear boy, there's a lot more to this old codfish than what meets the eye."
Henry followed after Merlin until they made it into the Great Hall. As if knowing exactly where to go Merlin ventured over to the grandiose glass case up against the wall and started searching for something.
"What are you looking for? Perhaps I can help you find it," Henry asked, looking on at Merlin curiously.
"The Grail."
The Grail? The idea stopped Henry short in his tracks. He looked around the room and began searching for the majestic goblet he thought he had seen before. He walked over to the cup which was placed on its own special pedestal in the far off corner of the room.
"Is this it?" Henry said while grabbing the cup, brandishing it toward the wizard. Merlin laughed uncontrollably at the sight of the ridiculously gemmed goblet.
"That old thing! Ha! No. That is, what we like to call in the magic business, misdirection. An illusion. A guise. A farce! A glorified paper weight," joked Merlin as he laughed in Henry's face making him feel foolish.
Henry looked back and forth from Merlin to the cup and placed it back on the pedestal. "Then what in the hell am I looking for?" asked Henry angrily.
Merlin shuffled his feet as he walked over towards the fake grail, chuckling to himself along the way. "I told you, the Grail… it's a glorified paper weight. Tell me, what does a cup, besides it being a good place-holder, have in common with paper?"
It seemed like a ridiculous question, but then again, this whole venture seemed ridiculous so Henry saw no harm in playing the game as he replied, "They both… hold things. With the cup it's liquid. With the paper it's words."
"Very good! What if I were to tell you," Merlin said as his fingers tapped the rim of the goblet, "that books are chalices too. They hold information so precious and dear that they could teach you how to bring about life or death and not just stories. Sure cups hold water, but the only thing this cup does… hehehe," he giggled as he plucked the goblet from the pedestal with one hand, "is protect the invaluable paper beneath it. It appears your grandfather took more than just the goblet." Merlin removed, what Henry thought was a placemat a single sheet of paper from beneath the goblet and waved it in front of Henry.
"So, it is literally a paper weight."
"Exactly! Made from only the rarest of enchanted pine… the same kind of wood that was made to build your mother's wooden portal to escape the curse and what created your puppet friend. Just one of many of my ingenious ideas! Oh the cleverness of me! "
"I still don't understand. What's the paper got to do with anything?"
"Dear, dear handsomely dull-witted boy, have you not already extrapolated who you are? If I'm Merlin then you are…"
"Henry. I'm the Savior's son… I'm…"
"No, no, no! Arthur! That's right. The Arthur."
"As in Knights of the Round Table?"
"Yes and no. Sorry, my accent must confuse your little brain. You're The Author. A writer. And only the true Author can wield the pen. Reveal the pen to me. I know you have it."
Dumbstruck, Henry pulled out the mysterious pen from within his coat pocket and held it in his hands. "But… it's just a pen. I can't be Arthur. Arthur pulled a sword from the stone, not a pen."
"Ah, yes! But in this world, the pen is mightier than the sword. You did pull it out of a stone, did you not? Given to you by some watery tart too, I bet." Henry immediately thought of Ariel. Merlin was right. She was the mermaid who practically handed the pen to him and it was him who had pulled it out from the stone. She was the Lady of the Lake. Just like the story, The Sword in the Stone. "What you hold in your possession," continued Merlin, "is the most powerful object in all the lands because that pen is the creator of stories, of heroes and villains and of happy endings. Making all of this… magic, time travel, realm jumping possible."
"But," stuttered Henry, "You're the most powerful and infamous wizard in all folklore!"
"That's because I wrote myself to be that way. You see, I was the Author. And now, sadly, that pen has chosen you to be the next one. Those materials I was talking about in the cave, this was it; the pen and paper. I go by many names of course, not just Merlin. I will gladly accept Composer, Artist, Originator, Creator, but for this story's purposes, call me Merlin. I am the maker of anything and the designer of this story. Anything is possible when you are the penholder to your own story. I deliberately wrote myself to be this powerful."
"Why?"
"Every author out there who creates stories knows their characters intimately, deeply, personally. What if this author has found a way to interact with its beloved characters? Unfortunately, in order for my interaction to be possible in this story, there are rules."
"Rules… Prices… Like without this pen and that paper, you're powerless."
"Look it here," mocked Merlin with the tone of surprise, "the boy does have a brain."
"No! I… I can't be… Arthur. I can't be The Author," Henry stuttered in disbelief. It was too much to take in.
"Let me prove it to you," said Merlin taking the blank parchment over to the long dining table at the center of the room and slapping it onto the table. "Write, 'Henry acquires the long sought-after Sorcerer's hat and wears it to bring about his happy ending along with the happy endings of everyone else he promised.' "
"What?" said Henry still stunned.
Merlin sighed disappointedly and replied impatiently, "Just write, 'Henry puts on the Sorcerer's Hat.' "
Henry leaned over the parchment on the table and hesitated.
"What's wrong?" questioned Merlin. "Is this not why you came all this way to wake me up from my sleep?"
Acquiring the hat was for the happy endings, wasn't it? Henry thought. "What if," Henry doubted, "I just start writing everybody else's happy endings?"
"You could, but without the hat, the pen's magic has only enough ink for one wish. So make it count. Oh, and uh, be careful what you wish for… you might just get what you want," warned Merlin slyly as he waved his eyebrows up and down. Henry stared at the pen some more, still unsure what he wanted to do. Merlin continued impatiently, "Let's get on with your wish then. I'm sure you wish for your happy ending. Tell me boy, what does your happy ending look like?"
"I… I don't know. I was hoping you would tell me."
"I will give you one piece of advice… no one can define your happiness, but I know of something that can… my hat. Only my hat can bring about what it is that you desire. Since you're the penholder now, I can no longer make the changes. So you must decide. If you want to know what everyone's happy ending is, then you'll need to wear the hat to find out. Otherwise, write your one wish."
All those years of studying magic and trying to figure out what to do with himself and this is what it came down to. Henry didn't want to waste the pen's magic on himself for one wish. The very idea seemed selfish. Not that he knew what he'd wish for. He could tell that Merlin was pressuring him to make a decision. There was something missing. Something Merlin was withholding, but what? The whole thing didn't seem fair. He wished there was more time to decide. With the hat, he reasoned, I'd have all the time in the world to decide. He stared down at the blank paper in front of him and aggressively scribbled,
"Henry puts on the Sorcerer's Hat."
The Sorcerer's hat suddenly appeared above Merlin's head. Merlin removed the once invisible hat from his head and placed it on the table on top of the paper. As soon as the hat had parted from his hands, the old man collapsed to the floor.
"Merlin?!" exclaimed Henry out of concern. Henry fell to the floor besides Merlin's body and out of the corner of his eye caught a glimpse of the mystical hat. An inexplicable force within him compelled Henry to ignore the old man and move towards the hat. He got up from the ground and his hands reached for the hat. Without question, Henry placed the Sorcerer's hat on his head. A golden-orange glow embossed his entire body.
Merlin stirred from where he fell on the floor and in a groggy voice called out, "Henry! Don't!"
It was too late. Arthur looked down upon the old man. With an evil grin, Arthur waved his hand over his head and magically cloaked the Sorcerer's hat.
I couldn't wait to post this. What did you all think?
Thank you BreathingintheSun, NatalieMosherRumbelle, Imusicluver23, ladybugsmomma, Grace5231973 and Montreat11 for reviewing last chapter. Can't wait to hear what you think of this one. See you next chapter, hopefully Sunday.