A druid man in long robes presented the three girls. One, much taller than the other two, looked only twelve.
Merlin frowned, light falling in a line over his face.
"Behold this night, the three servants of the Desir. These three were chosen at birth, and it is their right to take their place."
"Aren't they young?" said Brychan. He wore equally flowing traditional clothes, but they were brightly colored and tied sharply at the waist. "These are the girls to be the court of the Triple Goddess?"
"Yes, as they were chosen," said the Druid with a tight-faced smile.
"There's not much we can do about it Father," said Wen.
The celebration went on and Merlin trudged out past the arches again. Aithusa was still asleep and crickets were loud. The walls of the courtyard glowed in the firelight. People camped on the soft lawn and watched as Gillie performed a short show with showers of sparks. The music became slow and lulling, flutes spinning their tunes amongst the stretched shadows of brasiers stacked with flame.
Merlin found Wen and her father wrapped in cloaks and blankets. Her knights and a councilman loomed nearby. Merlin slid informally beside them.
Wen beckoned him over and spun her magic to wrap a blanket around him. "It's not so bad," said Merlin. The blanket radiated with heat, contrasting the sting of cold everywhere it didn't cover, like his ankles. Reclining on the grass, he watched the shadows dance behind the colorful performers, juggling and playing trumpets, while the distant hum of insects and happy chatter. "Are you not going to tell me why the Desir are being replaced?" Merlin inclined his head with a performative sweetness, baiting her to look down at him.
She didn't take it.
She brushed his hair from his forehead. He rolled over and sneezed.
"I'll tell you about it tonight."
"Hello there," said an official loudly. Merlin caught an annoyed smile and pulled himself to sit up. The official looked between Merlin and the queen, who looked nearly as informal, stretched on the grass.
She regarded him. "Magistrate."
"The guard has patrolled the celebration in the citadel. More than usual, seem to have shown up to start discord."
She crossed her arms over her legs. "I expect the guards to use non-lethal force. The archers may fire if they've attacked."
"The current state is most have retired or not come. There were a lot of attendees to the bonfire, but they're burning looted furniture, attacking homes."
She cocked her head. "I expected as much," she said.
"Have you now?" snaked the official.
She ignored that. "Tannic," she said. "Take the powder used to calm the dragon from Tieve's chamber and throw it on the bonfire in the square. I'd like to meet these celebrators," she said. Her voice flattened, "And banish them." Tannic bowed his head and left silently.
The official sucked his teeth, and his expression softened. "A late move," he said, "but a wise one. I'll see what I can do to help your knights. Enjoy your evening." He lifted his robe and moved, watching the ground as he walked.
"You're banishing?" whispered Merlin.
She leaned intimately towards him. "As we learned in the square, most people here follow the old religion. There are only a few places such people can live. But more and more only worry about their crops, and hate magic, either for its enigma or its seemingly unfair power, and that's their right, but they can live anywhere. They don't need to play pretend they're part of my kingdom. Public terror is treason, and I should have done this long ago."
"The people will be unhappy you've banished their family members," Merlin said.
She lowered herself onto an arm; her breath closer. "I wish I could appease everyone, but you can't appease someone who simply doesn't want you to exist."
Merlin played with a blade of grass, throwing it aside when he became frustrated. His attention drifted amongst the Druids he knew would be gone soon. "Even here Uther's legacy reaches. The people can't stop blaming magic."
He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch as she stroked his hair with her cool hand.
He couldn't help but smirk at the officials' scowls. Bright flashes, long streamers, and vibrant rolls of fabric rolled out by magic, twisting and fluttering in the night breeze.
Merlin climbed the spiral stair, making sure his young apprentice followed him. The room above his chamber had easily been converted from a library to a bedroom, but it had no hearth, and the boy stayed in the corner most nights.
Merlin abandoned lazily reading on the magic the celebration could forward. He chided the queen for the Desir and she apologized.
"Is this private, Master?"
Merlin pressed his hand to his lips. "No magic while I'm gone." He pushed himself through the door and slid sneakily along the wall. Merlin took in the surrounding scene that had become so familiar. Some young-faced guards had passed out drunk, likely drinking from the celebration. Merlin scaled the wall to the queen's tower and met a sharp pain in his back. A second guard pulled the incapacitated Merlin from the first perch he used to climb one of the broken walls, and he met a less friendly council member. "I'd never let the son of Reaoch have way with this kingdom. Get up!" They dragged him.
"Son of-f what?" said Merlin. "Get off me." Merlin pulled free, but the guard didn't wait for him to perform any magic. He clubbed Merlin with a sharp pain around the side of the ear. Merlin fell and scrambled away. He squeezed the ground and slicked it with magically-conjured mud. He slid around a corner and threw himself through a servant quarter door. "Tosplenge'." A door unlatched. Merlin pushed through it, holding his face. He could hear the councilman's guard close to his heels. Their boots tapped loudly against the old cobble floor. "Beslǣpst," he cast. It meant "sleep," and the nearest guard to the door slumped enough that Merlin could close the door. He climbed to a ledge as high as he could and pushed through some young maidservants in their quarters. One screamed and another rolled her eyes and said, "Shut up." Essylt arrived in undone braids, dressed for the party still and a long nightcape. "What on earth, magician?"
Merlin pushed open one of their windows and looked down. "Councilman Deseret seems to have lost it on me. He called me Reaoch's son and used the guard to attack me."
"That's absurd," she scowled. Essylt pushed herself over the ledge of the window and looked down. There were six guards there.
She frowned. Then regarded him. "What were you doing out at night, anyway?"
Merlin bit his lip. "Seeing the queen."
She nodded her head back and forth, "Yeah, see. That's why. But they would have called you so many things, a traitor, a servant, or the scum of Camelot. That's stupid but specific."
Merlin tightened his lips. "Nice," he quipped.
The other girl pushed her hair behind her ear. "Actually, he kind of…"
Essylt glanced in her direction, then narrowed her eyes at Merlin. Her eyes plummeted down and met him again. "Did your master ever tell you the results of the investigation he was so proud of? They sent spies and everything."
"The queen's father," said Merlin, "no, he did not. There was an investigation?" he said, voice getting higher.
They exchanged looks. "Mmh," said Essylt, "It's possible, but unlikely." She snorted. "Little queen would never keep an adversary for a court-mate."
The other maid folded her arms. "Or give him high positions in court," she said, "or let him listen in on meetings," she said, "or give him pretty foods and let him lay beside her and her father in the grass at Mabon."
"— Fine," hissed Essylt.
"I'm not," said Merlin flatly. "I know who my father is."
"Your grandfather?" said Esslyt, who grunted pulling a dresser to the side.
Merlin glanced at his boots. He'd never asked; he'd assumed his grandfather had long died on both sides.
Essylt slid the dresser far enough to the side that a tapestry made a small crawl space visible. She held it back and opened it. Merlin groaned and crawled inside it. The doors broke open outside. Merlin ducked and whispered, "behȳdest me." … "Hide me."
The guards barged in, breaking open the door with a slam.
Essylt stood up. "What are you doing here?"
Merlin heard her convincing feigned shock and pumped his eyebrows; she was a convincing actress.
"Where's the Dragon Lord? I know he came in." It was Cardel's voice.
"No one has come in. Save you. And even that is inappropriate."
Essylt's friend made a show of closing a robe over her nightdress. A guard cleared his throat and turned away.
"Where are you going?" spat Cardel.
The guard leaned in. "The man is a powerful sorcerer. Who knows if they even saw him come in? He could be anywhere by now." The guard huffed. Merlin listened as they trudged away, banging and clinking as they went.
Merlin climbed out and brushed his aloof hair aside. "Tight squeeze,' he grunted, "Thank you."
"You owe us."
"Really?"
"No," said Essylt, "we'll have to inform your master. They'll target your chamber next." She rubbed her hands on her gown as if to wipe away the stressful situation. Then pushed the ruined door closed.
Merlin stumbled slowly to it. "Bōtete," he said. The door lock lifted and the seam-line of broken metal sealed slowly. "My apprentice is sleeping there."
Essylt looked back. Her friend lifted her gown in clenched fists, wrapped her robe tight, and went for the door. "I'll go for the boy, you go for the queen," said the maid. "I'm Deirdre," she bowed slightly with her fists to her chest, "Kind to meet you, sorcerer." She brushed her thumb over Merlin's handiwork with the doorhandle with an awed expression, then vanished behind it.
Merlin looked about in the sudden stillness after they left.
"DO YOU THINK YOURSELF THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS MAGIC, SORCERER?" It was an echo, unheard except between their minds. Merlin stumbled and slammed backward, head striking the stone wall. He blinked, not seeing his attacker, "Ástríce!"
His defense must have missed, because he took a cutting blow to his ear. He rolled to the side, kicking blindly with one leg, and saw the man's shoes. The strap to a buckle was undone. "becnyttaþ se himming. Ic i þringe!"
"I'd never let you hurt this kingdom. The queen doesn't know what she's getting into."
The unseen enemy's shoe straps loosened and bound themselves together, causing the man to trip and yell out. Servants came to the rescue, some seeing Merlin on the floor and pulling him away, others wrestling the bound and tightening shoes from his feet. The face of Deseret, who'd been chasing him before, was revealed. "Do you not understand what you're doing to our queen? You bring nothing to this place."
"That's not your choice," scathed Merlin. He swung his arm. The door slammed and latched loudly.
"As long as the traitor of Camelot is an enemy of magic, this queen is destined to die at the Cailleach's demand. The Desir could have protected us, and that's gone, sorcerer. Camelot has killed us all."
Merlin ducked from the sight of the horses in the long stretch of open-sky corridor, the smell of the smoke still fluttered low to the ground over the black cobble. He took a turn away from his normal route, climbed up a stairway, and pushed into a corridor to the warmth radiated Brychan's quarter. He wasn't always there, but this time Merlin lucked out. "It's a good job you don't keep secrets," he snarked, "I might never have known I'm descended from the same corrupted magic that attacks Camelot."
Brychan smirked, and he tossed Merlin something. Merlin opened is hands to see a key. "Not all the locks here can be opened with a simple force of magic. It's time to be delicate." He stood up. "It looks like you've chosen to be delicate with my daughter's life," he sniffed. "She'll die if you're anything else. So be careful."
"What did the councilman mean by the Caeilleach? He said she was destined to die."
Brychan rubbed his nose. "You've known she'd be in danger from prophecy before."
"Prophecy doesn't make things happen, though. The Cailleach is a dangerous creature guarding the veil. It's already thinning. I can't help you if you're keeping secrets," Merlin's voice tensed, getting higher as he spoke.
"I'm sorry. You couldn't help anyway; it's prophecy." In turn, Brychan's voice dropped near a whisper. "I've been living like it's the flower's final season for a looong time now."
Merlin cleared his throat. His ankle lifted in a step back. "You never told me all of this. What about the old ways, the people, what about her? She knows she's unprotected?"
Brychan grimaced. "Did the council attack you?"
Merlin scowled; angry at the subject change.
"And you – like the Dragon won't do anything to help your own daughter?"
Brychan shrugged with a frown. "There's nothing I can do."
Merlin searched, eyes wandering. "If I leave?"
"No difference," Brychan said.
"Reinstate the Desir," said Merlin. "Bolster their power?" the offer let Brychan raise his eyebrows.
"Better chance bolstering the queen's power. She would need to be near goddess-like power before the veil's shortening at Samhain, then when the veil is thinnest between this world and the dead. We're not talking magic, but miracles. The light protector is a symbol of eternity. She'd need to be able to perform life magic, conjure springs, and heal fatal wounds of magical nature. That is even immortal wounds like that of blades burnished in the dragon's breath. None can do this now, not among the Fey."
"What can I do?" said Merlin.
"Be kind," offered Brychan with a shrug. "She's sleeping now."
"—I won't leave," Merlin lifted a dagger from his side, eyed the light on it, and flipped it, catching the handle. Then he pointed the end at Brychan. "Call off the councilmen. I'm not a threat to you." He huffed. "Is Reaoch my grandfather?"
Brychan bowed his head. "Through your mother, yes."
"Don't tell her I know," said Merlin. "Are the Druids still here?"
"Packing, but yes."
Merlin ripped a flowy, shiny curtain from the wall, bound it around a stone pillar, wrapped his legs, and kicked open a stained glass window. He propelled down, ignoring the gust of night wind, and his feet padded in a courtyard. Brychan leaned over. Merlin saw the silhouette of his master slump over the window in annoyance.
Wen was in her chamber, surrounded by models and paper molds of the layout of the citadel. Merlin climbed carefully through the window, avoiding making a sound. She was half sprawled on a chair, asleep. She still had the clothes from the feast and was wrapped in a night covering with twisty ribbons tight around the arms. Merlin bowed his head, rigid and motionlessly enchanted a blanket over her shoulders.
"Hello, Merlin."
He turned.
She rubbed her eyes.
He dipped his head to a bow. "You learned the animation spell," he said.
"Yeah," she sighed, "What are you doing here?"
Merlin cleared his throat. "Your council doesn't like how close I've gotten with you," he scratched his nose. "I asked your father to remedy it."
"I don't know if he can," she chuckled. "But s'good move anyway."
"It'll get them to stop attacking me," he said, still rigid.
Her smile died. "You know I have the power of the sihde," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. It was almost as if she'd reserved herself for disappointment.
He bit his lip. Merlin bowed low, dipping his hand against his face and maintaining what he hoped was an ambiguous face.
"Could you save Arthur?"
"Why would I? Even if I could? Would it save Camelot? Would it save magical people? I beg you. Let the king die."
"I can't do that."
"Why?"
"He is my friend."
"No." she answered, "I don't have the power."
"Will you one day?" asked Merlin.
"Far in the future. Don't you see how perilously weak I am?"
"… I admire you," said Merlin. "You've never had to be challenged in your beliefs, your steadfast protection of magic. You've never had to be cruel for the sake of an idea."
"I have been cruel," said Merlin.
She assured him, almost habitually, "You are not a monster. If it troubles you so; if it's so unlike you, why do you fight for it so much?"
"I can't have failed."
"Because it has to mean something?"
"…yes."
"You have done a great task for Camelot," she offered. "The kingdom still stands."
"Nothing's changed."
"It will change. It takes time."
"It takes someone who has their sense of self intact. That's not me. Gillie was right," he was so close now, looking away, trailing his pinky on hers, transfixed in the small motion, "I've fought so long I've forgotten who I am."
Merlin stirred. "I'd like to stay here," mumbled Merlin. "And only, I mean it."
The wash of light flooded her face. Merlin recoiled, realizing he'd lowered his bow so close over her seated position that he arched a crescent leading her to incline her neck to match the angle of his expression. She murmured slowly, "You are very bold, so suddenly."
Merlin frowned, pulling his hands behind him, bowing his head, and standing attentive position.
Her voice shook. "N-no…" she said.
She stood up with a puzzled look. "Did you come to be affectionate with me?"
He huffed a fake laugh, but he couldn't hold it and it faded into a frown. He altered his voice, "That would be inappropriate," he bowed, "your majesty," he said, flat and formal.
She stilled into a deep pause.
Merlin held his breath, convinced she would reveal his somehow appropriate lineage, his Royal line; that she and hers had lied to him all this time. But she shrugged, eyes and expression distance. "It could be a moment," she said slowly, "or a life."
Merlin squinted.
She rolled her eyes. "Oh, C'mon, warlock. I could perish in the season. Why should I care?"
Merlin sighed, disappointed, but not angry. "It's not proper," he said, low to a whisper.
She deflated, "Oh," she said. Her heel turned her, rotating away from him and turning over a second table. Many scattered parchments ripped, tattered, and blotched with dark, or squiggly, desperate attempts to better her magic for the ceremony that night. "I'll call the knights to be sure your chamber isn't bothered," she offered, rubbing her eyes. "Sorry about that."
Merlin chewed his lip. "because, you know, there is a place for things," he said, eager to make sure she wasn't offended. "I have … my destiny." He'd paced a few steps closer, wringing his fingers.
Her blue eyes were on him again, eyebrows drawing together suspiciously. She cleared her throat. "Yes, we have our destinies, and our positions, and responsibilities, and our loneliness, and our lives… shut up, Merlin."
Merlin laughed, now closer.
He darkened, "You pretend you don't use your call," he accused suddenly. He hid a smile and said, "I saw you kill a man with it."
She recoiled.
He continued, "It is like mine, like with the dragon call as you described, but it's deadly." He cast his gaze downward. "I've never known an opponent with such a dark power…"
She inhaled to interrupt.
"—I know you use it. You can't tell me you don't. And you lie to me, just like every other being here, human or not, you lie to me. You keep secrets." His voice died into a whisper.
"—I haven't killed since your instruction, Merlin." She said smoothly.
"—spare me," he said, dropping the light in his eyes. He caught a flash of the light off her collarbone as her cloak slipped, her eyes wide and pinned on him under her lashes. They took each other in, in the flash of torchlight, with Merlin now inclined slightly over her with arms folded.
"I swear it," she breathed.
Merlin let his eyes fall closed and cleared his throat.
"I think…" he started slowly, "I'd like to give the Druids one last performance of the night…" he passed beyond her, bringing himself to a table tucked away in a corner behind a wardrobe. He plucked an expensive silken fabric from the table and let it collapse to the floor, revealing the scarlet hue of the dragon egg.
Wen gasped. They trudged down the spiral and into the darkened courtyard. She toed behind him, pulling the chain of her floating enchanted lantern behind her. "Can I trust you with something so precious? You said you would destroy it. I'm inclined to believe your animosity toward magic."
"If I had animosity toward magic, would I be this close?" he leaned close enough to nearly brush her cheek with his mouth, heart pounding.
Her eyes darted, closing suddenly, mouth parted in surprise.
His eyes fluttered. He pulled away, cleared his throat, and stumbled away stiffly.
The flutists whistled their last jigs. The dancers became the crowd. Merlin ignored the bite of the night air and deliberately walked past a crowd of Druids. He led Wen to bring her lantern closer and found a stump to place the egg. A knight appeared in the crowd, loose shirt and informal and jerked his head to show Oisan had safely made it to the celebration with Essylt.
The crowd's chatter dulled, and several people came to a halt and turned their heads, some pointed.
Merlin waved Meilyr closer. He drew his sword, straightened, and came near to stand guard.
Wen pulled her lantern out of the way.
Merlin placed the scarlet egg onto the stump with nimble fingers, stepped back, and caught the gaze of the Druid chieftain Iseldir from a distance. The druid drew his robe up and folded his thin arms, nodding in attentive intrigue. "I want you to know I don't do this lightly. It is a great risk to bring a dragon into the world with so little resources, but it may be the only way to ensure the future of magic." Merlin deliberately kept himself from looking back at Wen for confidence. He didn't want people to see he blamed her for the fall of the Desir. He raised his voice. "I'm unstudied as a Dragon Lord, as I'm the last of my kind, you understand this, but I will do everything in my power and blood to give you what you deserve. I promise you that."
Merlin stepped back again and drew into a low bow. He silently waved back at the crowd and the closest ring of druid travelers eagerly backed away. Wen and her Knight backed away too.
Merlin drew an energy from deep within himself, closing his eyes and lowering his head. He focused deep within his chest and growled a haunting call. "Pyyyriiithea…"
He shuddered, and the knight slowly drew his sword forward to keep the crowd from advancing.
Wen pushed her now wild hair out of her face and flicked her fingers at her lantern, it bobbed into a glide and raised higher, illuminating the first crack of the shell.
There were small snapping sounds. Merlin had the instinct to run, but stayed rooted. The last time hadn't culminated well, and privately, he was terrified.
The egg split open, and the flapping vibrant red skin of a baby dragon appeared, wings tucked close and body shaking. It's curled head had the bumps of what would be small horns, her skin perfectly smooth and gradient from a red so deep it looked like a wound, to a coal-black at the tips of the clawed feet.
The crowd gasped, there was a collective sigh, and a man shouted. "Hail Merlin! Hail to the Dragon Lord!"
Merlin shook, wiping his face with both hands and stumbling back at the broken silence.
The queen raised her hands and quieted the crowd. The cheers died on a collective breath.
Merlin bowed his head, grateful for the moment of peace. He stepped back, and the crowd dispersed.
The baby dragon extended its wings and flew towards the stars, calling out a quip of a squeak. It's black eyes wide and haunting, also endless and bead-like with an innocence to be drowned in.
"She is Pyrithea," boomed Merlin – to the best of his ability, "A fire that will catch and grow as our magic and our world grows, something that will bring the old ways into the new time."
Wen looked at Merlin, her eyes bright. "It worked," she sighed.
Merlin smirked a tiny smile. "It did."
She threw his arms around him. The crowd's cheers turned into an "ooooooh," and a hum of chatter. Oisan beamed brightly, entranced by the tiny dragon. Merlin gestured him away from her, worried too much stimulation would hurt the tiny dragon. Someone brought Merlin a blanket. It was an old woman, she shoved the patched blanket into Merlin's chest, "For you, my love. I won't take no for an answer. This blanket has been in my family for years now. It was when my husband was still alive. He was a sorcerer, and I want it to perish if it must, in contact with something great and magic. That will be your little dragon."
"Thank you," said Merlin. He smiled up at Meilyr, whose eyes had gone glassy at the sight of the young dragon. The little dragon snipped and clicked her jaw as Merlin scooped her up inside it and hugged her to his chest. She snuggled down into it, lifting her wing over her face to block out the night air. It was as if it was meant for her.
He nodded Oisan close and dropped enough for the boy to see her. "She might be a lot to handle in our chamber for a while. I let Aithusa run free because I had to, but it's not like that now. I will protect this one. Can you help me with that?"
The boy beamed, and Merlin opened his mouth as he noticed Oisan had tears on his face. "Oh, don't worry, there will still be time for you." He said, knowing deeply that wasn't why the young druid cried. Merlin smiled a little and joked, "You still have to study your common spells."
Oisan smiled and gave a fake groan, wiping his face with his long sleeves.
"C'mon," said Merlin. "It's getting cold."
They went back up to the castle slowly, separating from the gawking crowd, plodding. Merlin blinked and shuddered in the heat of young Wen's lantern. Its enchanted fire sparked and spat, crackling with movement, but glowing smoothly.
He paced closer to the queen. Stopped and bowed low, cradling the Dragon.
She laughed and threw her head in a hidden smirk. "You are amazing," she breathed earnestly. Her eyes drew together. "I know it caused you trouble."
Merlin nodded, but said, gaze striking her, "It was an honor."