Merlin think's he is just another powerful sorcerer causing trouble, but this is less true than this chapter alone can show.
Tall, black-haired and cobalt eyes marked with fissured wrinkles and high cheekbones, he wrapped himself in cloths befitting a great scholar, a noble. He wore an ensemble with a belt that held a swath of crimson red fabric that draped from his shoulder down to his hip. His servant appeared behind him, visible in the motion from a reflection.
"Sire, the Avalon regent arrives at the Castle gate today. Do you still intend to visit?"
He grumbled, 'Of course I do."
"They did call privacy," said the servant suggestively.
"They want to see me. I'm their power. And anyway, the child is unversed in complex magic; she's lived the life of a roving mutt all her life. No, best map out their weaknesses. Even if our army is weakened, I won't need one. Avalon gate must be ruled by magic, and it must come with it the old ways. They must survive."
Meekly, his servant folded an arm in the reflection, calm as he spoke, "There is a history of change surrounding the legends of new Queens. They say it means new eras in nature have arrived."
"The old ways must persist," he growled bluntly, "or all our lives we have fought for nothing." King Reaoch – (Ree- awkt) dropped his gaze, moving slightly and revealing a length of human bone that had been used in spells of dark magic. It was a length of arm and the tiny bones of a wrist.
The image of a castle shimmered in the distance; its towers silhouetted against the sky. The princess wore fine jewels in her hair with a dull wool cloak to embellish the effect. No one knew she had failed the coronation, and they would keep it that way.
Far north, the druids remained camped, their horses grazing nearby. The dragon spread his wings and yawned as they arrived, then clicked, cried out and swooped to greet them.
"Hello my darling!" Gwendy said. She dropped from the horse.
Merlin did the same and grappled for the reins. "Princess, the horse!"
"You worry too much," she said, petting and cradling Aithusa, the dragon's head in her hand.
Merlin snorted and wandered with Brychan, giving his best bewildered look.
Aithusa was just happy to be fed lamb that night, thought Merlin.
Gwendolen's serving girl, a druidic young woman by the named Esyllt, came running to greet them. She took the reins of the horse. "You're back! I was so worried."
"You don't have to worry about me," she wrinkled her nose in an admittedly charming laugh.
Merlin sniffed and turned his head away as Esyllt noticed him. In a low voice, she said, "That servant is still here."
Merlin frowned.
A few council members filtered through the courtyards. They swept her up in their wake as Esyllt snatched the reins from Merlin's hold.
Merlin tossed his arms in frustration as they chattered and ambled away. Brychan laughed at Merlin's confusion.
The castle had, in small terms, changed. Garden beds, dried and overgrown, were filled with green sprouts; broken walls had been cleared of dead vines. Fixtures for the dragon to climb on had been added in a show of wealth the steward was proud of, and Merlin followed ceremony behind his new master, the princess's father, Brychan while Gillie, who'd been mastering the castle presented a hidden library he'd uncovered.
"The wall's blown out," said Gwendy.
"Looks like it was walled away. Who knows what caused that? It could be dangerous," murmured Brychan.
Merlin pulled Gwendy's shoulder. "He's right," said Merlin, stumbling over rubble. He whispered, "come away please."
Esyllt swatted Merlin at his arm until he recoiled and stepped back. "Okay, okay!" said Merlin.
Gwendolen chuckled, "I guess she doesn't trust you."
"Vouch for me," Merlin complained.
"He's fine," said Gwendy, focused, as she pulled up her dress at the ankles and walked through into the library. Merlin lifted his hand. "Léoht!" a bright light seared to life with a flash and an airy noise. Merlin strolled behind as a trove, not unlike the secret chamber in Camelot's library, came to light.
"The druids will be happy to hear about this. Well done, Gillie."
Cardell mumbled dejectedly. "I would have thought you'd finally be ready to build a dungeon with this destruction."
Gwendolen scoffed and gathered close to Merlin, who thumbed and spread a dusty scroll. "It's ah, it's castle records."
The old master squinted as she drew her slender cascade of a cloak close to Merlin. Cardell patted Brychan's arm, scowled and nodded toward the two of them.
Gillie toddled between some broken and towering shelves. "There are maps here," he called.
They investigated and merlin caught himself leaning between the shelves on a scene where they spread and analyzed new materials.
This wasn't dusty, dilapidated, dangerous buried materials.
"The dates. Look at the dates. There were scholars writing this just before the Great Purge."
Merlin frowned, and his mouth opened.
"—Spells," called Esyllt.
Brychan laughed heartily. "Ah, it's old cooking. The ladies wrote these." Small snippets of paper tumbled out of a box. "Letters," said Cardell.
"They must have walled it off to protect it during the Purge," said Cardell.
"Weren't you here then?" said Gwendy sweetly.
"Oh, I was a young one then. I wouldn't have been through with schooling."
"I noticed most of the scholars are young," she said.
"Few survived during the fight. The educated went first; it's the greatest threat. They hunted the masters. Makes it easier if you're well known."
Merlin pushed into the group from the shadows again. "There were hunts here during the Great purge?" He spoke.
"Hmm," moaned Cardell. "Not much was safe back then. Uther did a good job of making magic feared. It spread quickly. Magic takes years of study and most who had the resources had money, so it was already mistrusted. They went from masters to monsters."
Gillie struggled down to the Great Hall. Several servants were still in nightclothes, and courtiers from the upper town had come through the castle gates. Cardell, Brychan, and Saffer – the druid council member - were there waiting.
The doors had been thrown open, and a procession, including horses, had strewed in on the polished floors.
Gillie hovered near Esyllt, the queen's maid, who held a jug of drink in an apron. "What is this?" he yawned. "It's not even dawn."
"They've come to see the new queen of Avalon," she said.
He lowered his face and whispered, "but she was never coronated."
"Shh," she hissed. "They don't know that. It's the King Reaoch of Dyfed. I think he's come to collect on debt from the previous queen."
"Debt?"
"Old deals?" she guessed.
"Old threats," said Gillie.
Reaoch chuckled loudly, scanning the crowd. "Well, well," he said with a bright smile. "It seems you really do have a sorcerer. But I must say –I won't be impressed until I see this dragon."
"Afraid the Dragon is skittish around strangers," said a knight. "Neither I nor the Dragon Lord expected your presence."
"And where is this Dragon Lord?" boomed Reaoch. He looked around at the surrounding crowd and his knights tracking mud onto the Great Room's floor and pinned the young princess Gwendolen in his eyeline.
Gwendolen peered back at him. "You've come early. My entourage and I arrived from a quest recently. It's not yet dawn. I'd be happy to call a banquet for you to greet my staff in the marrow."
The knight, who had become the head of arms after Rual's destruction, said, "We have extra beds and stables for your horses."
Reaoch agreed.
Under the shadow-streaked cover of a dramatic archway, Gwendolen's head knight met with her with folded arms and a sword at his side. "Why are you protecting your Dragon Lord from him? It'd be easier and simpler to meet his demands."
She wrung her hands. "He's too interested. And he's looking for military power. The dragon is the most precious thing we have. I must keep them both safe. Keep their knights from the Dragon Run."
"Will you take your usual path in the morning?"
"Yes… And I'll keep the Dragon Lord from reach."
"Yes, Majesty," said the knight. He bowed his head, making his height apparent, and she swiftly melted into the scenery whist lifting her dress. "I trust you," she said.
Merlin woke and dressed.
Merlin missed his vibrant colors, but his white clothing was soft and clean. He pinched his loose tunic and swung his legs over the edge of the tower, feeling the wind and tracing the line of the sky against the mountains toward Camelot. – what he presumed was Camelot.
It was one time the princess troubled herself to make conversation with Merlin. She paused in a habitual route through the castle at his door. "Isn't that what they're saying?" her eyes roamed the arches above. "The 'heart of Avon," she mimicked, "it's a prophetic name, just like the ones in Camelot."
Merlin rotated his hand over the pot. The rendered fat would be good for candles later. "I don't know what you mean. Have you lived at the edges of the world so long as I have?" He swallowed. "Doused yourself in secrets?" Merlin looked away from the image in the doorway. "I don't know who I am anymore," he whispered.
"Hm. Everyone's had to live around what the world has become since the purge." She grunted. "I've had a life. I've been disguised for most of it for reasons you can imagine. I mean my aunt, and her terrible fate."
"No, I hope I can't." He leaned forward. "That won't happen to you."
Her face softened. "Some druids crossed the grounds while we were gone. Cardell tells me they talked about someone called Emrys again. It's prophetic rubbish."
"They've talked on him before?" said Merlin. He cleared his throat. "I heard Brychan say something at the other castle," he mumbled explanatorily, and deceptively.
"I'm more worried about the king of Dyfed. He's begun beheading druids who wander on his land from this one."
Merlin dropped his eyes. "Aren't magic kingdoms supposed to welcome to Druids? They are most of the surviving magic," he said.
She tightened her lips. "yes and no," she said. "Druids are part of almost any land. His kingdom allows magic, and exalts it with a bit of the old-world culture of literacy that developed along the coastline, but it's dying. Most don't write their magic down because it's household practice. The only ones making spells are using it to bind thread and wash clothes."
"Doesn't sound like noble deeds," said Merlin.
"Noble deeds are a mischaracterization of society. It maintains the world, and I especially am grateful for clean clothes."
"Would you like to go for a walk with me?" said Merlin.
She squinted. "That'd be wonderful."
Below, in the deepest parts of the castle, a meeting called together among the council members.
"—There's no test greater than a dying society. The lower towns have come to life. Refugees are coming out of their hiding. Soon there will be a school again, a formalized knowledge in a round houses of stone. Novitiates will come."
Brychan folded his arms. "The magistrate Cardell is right. "We are all untested. There aren't many borders to Avalon that need caring for, but there are rivals. Preventative violence might be a powerful lesson before those rivals set to any ideas."
An unnamed council member leaned forward. "You refer to Dyfed and their unnatural king."
Folded arms, Brychan nodded with closed eyes. "There are already assemblies of soldiers camped to the west. They're not armed to do anything, but they are formalized."
"A threat?"
"A reminder," Clarified Brychan. "Reaoch is an old man, but he maintains his structure like Uther, and doesn't need his health to do it. Druid travelers report he may decide to take Avalon Gate to establish and facilitate future invasion into eastern land."
"He wants to invade Camelot?" said Cardell.
Brychan mutely adjusted his weight. "Further than that, I suppose. Many agree the only way to reestablish safety for the old ways through military conquest."
"It's peaceful here," said Merlin. He enrapt himself in the high grasses and trails in the gardens between and outside the winding courtyards of the palace. The twirling, round house qualities of the ruins were almost dizzying, like the labyrinth Merlin had once stridden through to rescue Arthur.
She huffed a laugh. "We're very well protected. The castle is hidden by magic in the Valley of Fallen Kings. As long as there aren't too many quests into the old lands, the magic stays sacred."
"I've been on quests in the Fallen Lands," said Merlin.
She paused. "Oooh," she cooed with a tiny smile.
Merlin laughed and strode forward. "You're making fun of me?" he smiled. "I'll have you know, it was a very important quest," he puffed out a little and smiled, patting his chest.
"Walking in an old wasteland was important?" she grumbled lightly.
"Yes," he quipped, "we were in a search for a very important trident."
"So, a fancy spear? For fishing?"
Merlin nodded. "Hmm." He slowed in his pace. "That's where I met the Fisher King," recounted Merlin. "And he told me he'd been living for hundreds of years, waiting for the rise of Arthur."
The atmosphere shifted, and when she turned to look at him, he felt her eyes burning into him. "I wish I could have the slightest insight into what your life has been like, Merlin."
Merlin pressed his fingers to his lips. "Maybe there's a way, but I'd feel like a spy. I could tell you stories, share experiences, or," he shifted uncomfortably, "I could show you," he offered quietly, "by magic. You have a crystal you used to talk with your council," he said.
She rolled her eyes. "It's my father who controls it. He's more powerful than me."
Merlin waved a hand. "That's not because of you; magic takes training, but –I can use them. Yours isn't clear, granted I can't give you another; I'd have to go to the land of Fallen Kings. But," he bowed his head and looked up under lashes, "I could use a spell to give a glimpse of the past."
She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You keep magic from me to keep me from spying on Camelot," she accused insightfully.
"To keep anyone from misusing it," he admitted with a keen smile, "present or future." He shrugged, "Also to keep the Land of Fallen Kings spared of intruders. That'll keep your lands safe for a time."
He held out his hand and bowed, waiting for her to take it.
"Just how powerful are you?" she asked wistfully.
"Hmm," Merlin hummed.
He swept a silken sheet from her crystal and let it sink to the stone floor. "Alright," he held up his hands in warning, "This won't do all you expect, but it is a start. According to my old reading, it'll show you a random time from the past, but it won't show you anything relevant to your army, so don't get excited."
"Merlin," she heaved, "These people against formalized militaries? I'd be wiping out my own."
Merlin studied her, letting his eyes drift from her expression to her posture, taking in the length of her form from her turned back. This seemed genuine.
He cleared his throat and opened a book. The spell was breathy and reflective of something still and vanished at the bottom of a decomposing consciousness.
He blinked and brushed his palm over the crystal, revealing it for her.
She stepped forward.
"This is in Camelot?"
"At one time it was," said Merlin.
"IS THIS SOME KIND OF JOKE!?"
"What?" said Merlin.
"IS THAT WHAT I THINK IT IS? WHO IS THAT?"
"Wendy, by every God there is, calm down!"
Merlin got a quick look at the image and realized it was an image of Uther and would-be Lady Katrina in intimate enthralls, but "Lady Katrina" was a troll who had enchanted herself in ages past.
He heaved the cloth back over the crystal.
"THAT WASN'T THE KING. WAS THAT THE KING?" She burst into hysterical laughter to the point there were tears down her face.
He ran for the door and slammed it closed.
"Open this door!" yelled two knights on the other side.
Merlin let the door peel forward. They rushed in. "Where is it?" said one knight.
She waved them down between gasps. "No, it's alright, it's alright."
The knights took in the stunned sight of Merlin and Gwendolen, who muffled herself behind her hand.
One swayed and dropped his sword. "I'm telling the master at arms," he threatened.
"Hey," she said, "Just laughing."
"Agh," said the other knight, "they were playing around."
"I can't believe this. It's almost boring," complained the first knight. "I wanted to see some action."
She shook her head and steadied. "No, you don't," said Gwendolen. "Not with Reaoch and his knights here."
The knights left, and she wiped tears from her eyes.
"Who is here?" said Merlin.
Her face fell. "Reaoch. He's the king of Dyfed. I think he's here to scope out power with the dragon." She dropped her eyebrows. "Do not tell anyone about my failed coronation. Call me Queen or Majesty until they're gone."
"What happens if –I won't, but what happens if they find that out?"
"They'll believe the protective enchantments on the Kingdom and castle aren't working. They'll kill me and use whatever magical influence they can to take Camelot."
"You said you'd be wiping out your own," he said in a wispy voice.
She breathed in and frowned, taking him in. "True with soldiers. I'm not aware what magic the castle Avalon has, therefore it's possible a victory could be," she dropped her head, "In the short term. That's an enticing motivation for someone bitter, long in years and ready to go out for revenge."
"Like Reaoch," said Merlin.
She didn't answer immediately, but nodded.
Merlin surveyed her. "He only needs to see the Dragon," he said. "A show of force enough to threaten the knights will ward him off."
She frowned. "He's seen dragons at full power. Aithusa's a baby."
Merlin covered his face. "You're in severe trouble. Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you are the closest thing to the power of the old ways, we still have. He would have you destroyed for power over this fortress."
"I'm powerful as a sorcerer. He could try," said Merlin.
"That's arrogant," she scoffed. Her expression softened, "and the dragon isn't powerful. He can't speak. He knows no spells. Reaoch keeps wyverns more powerful."
"I can tame wyverns," said Merlin with a shrug.
"If he's as powerful in magic as I've heard, your knights won't stop him. I'll get Gillie. We'll ward off the castle passages." He jogged to the doorway.
"Merlin!" she called. "No. He'll kill you."
Merlin slowed to a walk in the Dragon Run just outside, trying to remember where the passage to the sorcerer's chamber was since they returned.
A throaty, deep voice called out, "You there!"
Merlin turned and met face with a tall, brown-haired man with lined features and distinct cobalt eyes. A knight, his cloak a fluttering, regal combination of black, silver and red, stepped up behind the man. He clasped his long, bony fingers over the hilt of his sword, his gaze filled with curiosity. The man's mouth parted to reveal his bright teeth for too long, and Merlin felt an eerie, unsettling dread.
"Give me your name," said the man.
Merlin didn't want to be seen taking a step back and was unsure of revealing his position. He fought the urge to look down the corridor, to the angled archway, to the path of the dragon's courtyard. "I'm Merlin," he said after a pause. "Answer what is yours." He deliberately mimicked returning an order despite the other man's apparent position as a king.
The older man's eyebrows raised and Merlin bowed slightly before moving away, believing the man wouldn't answer. Instead of moving toward the Dragon's path as he normally would have, he moved to the right, and waited to the side of an old nook in the architecture down an adjacent path.
Merlin moved quickly, giving himself a few moments as the clink of the knight's armor got louder and closer.
Merlin raised his arm and a wave of magic spread out from his fingertips, obscuring the dramatic entrance to the Dragon's secluded refuge.
The knight stopped short, and the rival king sneered. "You underestimate me, young man. I sense the magic on you."
His knight stopped short and pulled away a torn tapestry, casting light over Merlin's face.
King Reaoch grinned menacingly and dropped his sword. "I've met the sorcerer, but I've yet to meet Brychan's beloved apprentice. I can guess this elusive Dragon Lord is you. So, be kind," he dropped toward Merlin's level and lowered his voice, with the attention a house cat gives an injured mouse, "where is this dragon?"
"The dragon doesn't take visitors," said Merlin.
"We only wish to see it," he cooed smoothly. "Of course, that really isn't necessary, given if I truly wished to limit Avalon's power, I wouldn't need to kill a fledgling dragon, just take it for myself," his eyes flicked up to Merlin's, "after I kill the Dragon Lord."
Merlin shrugged out of the nook and adjusted his tunic. "Why would you do that? Your kingdom's share the same goals."
"How is that?" scowled the man in a hoarse voice. "I see no armies marching on the weakened evil in Camelot. All I see is a young girl, standing atop the world as it slowly burns around her. You're magical yourself – wouldn't it bring hope to the kind-hearted and the meek if justice was served in this plagued world? I can't bring people back, but I can make this world free."
"It is free!" Merlin snapped on a breath and shoved himself backward. The knight rounded on Merlin and swung. The sword dissolved and reappeared.
Merlin gaped as he processed the sudden movement. Reaoch had used magic to speed time. At the second move, Merlin's instincts activated. He threw his hands over the knight's face. A burst of wordless, panicked magic flash-banged under his hands and filled the corridor with the smell of burning skin. The knight dropped back with an agonized scream and Merlin backpedaled down the immense flight-pathway of the Dragon's Run, swallowed by the near sky-level arches above.
There was a rug and a tattered mural of a tapestry hanging in the mist at a passing opening. Merlin started for the passage, but the world turned white. Merlin stumbled back, ears ringing at the sound of unmistakable lightning. His eyes adjusted only long enough to see a staff in the king's hand, something small but effective under his cloak.
The tapestry swayed under bright flames as Merlin ducked for the gate of the Dragon's caves. He supported himself on a wall as he walked. He had never met this magic other than his own.
Merlin was being herded.
He came to the mouth of the cave, which was fixed with a vast, specially shaped fixture of iron bars and a gated metal door; fireproof, and if Merlin knew Dragons, Magic-proof as well.
Wendy had insinuated he could get himself out of it, but right now he couldn't see how. He slinked behind the bars and into the shadow of the cave, dropping into a pool of water.
But when he held his hand to open the gate suggestively for the king to follow, the open door did nothing. Magic was gone. He cupped his hands over his mouth and muffled himself against the wall. A wooden bucket bobbed close enough for him to lean down.
Reaoch wandered predictably through the door and sneered.
Merlin threw the bucket of water over him.
He wheezed. Merlin tackled him and wrestled the staff from him. He kicked the gate closed, still dripping, and smashed the staff repeatedly against the bars. Merlin beat the magic artifact until it splintered, until it was useless, and until he had no strength.
"Lad," croaked Reaoch with a gaping mouth.
Merlin saw the shock of the old man through the bars and threw the broken staff at him. He turned and strode into a run and back into the path.
"Meilyr," huffed Merlin. They collided, and the knight grabbed Merlin's shoulders.
Tieve, the court physician, treated Reaoch's burned knight. By night, the lower town just outside Avalon Gate knew the Dragon had been attacked, and yet more people spoke on the thin cobbled streets about how Reaoch had been overcome.
Merlin sat on his bed with his head bowed, and when Gwendy swung round on the doorframe, he had already lost all tone in his voice. "I should fortify the Dragon's courtyard," he said listlessly.
Gwendolen slowed and came to a stop where all he could see was the flowing line of the bottom of her dress. She took his hand and lifted his arm over her shoulder, sitting close and embracing him, and realizing he had no emotional energy left, she clasped his hand and let him fall back.
"You did very well," she assured, "You were clever and astonishing. Why are you so hurt?"
Merlin swallowed, taking in the canopy above the illustrious bed. "I still feel like I'm betraying the world. People died for me to bring magic back to Camelot. Every sorcerer I meet wanted to destroy Camelot, and I wonder now if they're right."
"This one isn't. The people of Camelot fear magic. Forcing it upon them again would only increase their wrath. Albion exists, and I think as long as magic isn't being hunted by its rulers, there's a chance. Vengeance, and even justice, isn't worth risking that. They're still people. Most of them only want to grow crops."
Merlin turned his head. "I think you'd think differently if you'd seen the things I have. Not that I want to destroy Camelot, but I think I regret."