A/N: Wolfdragon: I was afraid it wouldn't be clear enough. No need to feel dumb :). Here's what's going on: Merlin's not seeing any sorcerers around. He comes up with a bunch of excuses - they're waiting to see if Morgana will succeed, they trust me, they're scared the new law is a trick - but none of them change the fact that only a handful show up. Eventually, he's forced to wonder why more haven't come. The answer is that there ARE no more. Uther's purge and the subsequent fights have killed all but the sorcerers listed in the story (and Gaius, but he's old enough that, well . . . ). Where are they? Dead. The wind knows, the garbage knows, but Merlin just can't accept it.
I don't own The Princess Bride from which the first half of the dialogue and characters comes.
. . . . .
"Have fun storming the castle, boys!" Merlin called.
"Think they've got a chance?" his wife asked.
He ran the odds in his head. He had seen enough by now that he was rarely wrong. "It would take a miracle." He thought back some more over his own adventures, and he cheered quickly. Miracles weren't nearly so rare as you'd think.
"Goodbye!"
He watched them walk away. It felt a little wrong not to go off storming it with them. Then again, being Miracle Max was the most fun he'd ever had.
He turned to the woman beside him. "I'm not a witch, I'm your wife?" he repeated. "Since when are those mutually exclusive concepts?"
She sniffed. "Oh, hush, you. You're no better. A BLT? Honestly?"
"Speaking of BLTs, I don't suppose - "
She whacked him.