Summary

After researching dragons and dragonlore in the library secret archives, Merlin has a renewed appreciation for Kilgharrah and Aithusa and his role as their dragonlord master.

Chapter 29 Dragon Diaries: Sniffles and Scales Part II

Merlin paced the rocky ledge on Dragon Mount seeking a moment of solitude before summoning Kilgharrah. His thoughts and emotions churned like a whirlpool, hope and apprehension pulling him in different directions. Gaius's departure in the early hours of the day had left a void in his heart, and the hours of research with Galahad had consumed the remaining morning. The dragons demanded his attention now, leaving no time to dwell on the daunting task that lay ahead—restoring the harvest, his greatest feat ever. The fate of Camelot's harvest, and by extension, its people, rested on his shoulders.

Standing on the mountain ledge overlooking the sprawling forest stretched out below, Merlin's responsibilities pressed down on him like a physical burden. The prospect of being appointed court wizard loomed over him too, a fresh wave of unease crashing against the shores of his mind. And despite the lack of severe repercussions from Lord Badawi's arrest, magical incidents continued to sprout like weeds across the city and nearby settlements. The increased presence of knights and soldiers had helped maintain stability, but the measures taken still left the king and queen unsettled.

Merlin massaged his temples, his fingers pressing against the pulsing ache that had taken root behind his eyes. The spectre of war with Escetir lingered at the edges of his consciousness, adding to the ever-growing mountain of pressures. Arthur's tireless efforts with the council and commanders to draft a diplomatic response to King Lot's terms felt like a futile endeavor. Merlin feared that no matter what Arthur counter-proposed, it would not satisfy the enemy sovereign, his demands steep and ominous.

The sun, now hidden behind a veil of clouds, cast a diffuse light across the tranquil landscape, a breathtaking view that didn't settle the turmoil in his heart. As his gaze wandered over the countryside, he couldn't help but wonder if other dragonlords walked those very lands, waiting or perhaps yearning for their own special connection to a dragon that might never come. And yet, amidst the maelstrom of duty and destiny, a small, persistent voice whispered of another crucial obligation.

Aithusa depended on him too, not just for guidance and training, but for the nurturing bond that only a dragonlord could provide. In his preoccupation with his other weighty challenges, Merlin had ignored making this sacred connection, leaving the impressionable creature without the support and reassurance she needed from him. The memory of her trusting eyes and soft, pearlescent scales filled his mind, a pang of remorse striking him. So many precious moments squandered, he lamented.

The realization perched on his chest like a gargoyle, its presence unmovable and demanding attention. He knew he had to make amends, to show Aithusa that she was not forgotten by him, and that their bond could be strong, unbreakable. Inhaling a deep breath that filled his lungs with the crisp mountain air, Merlin stepped forward to the edge of the precipice, his boots crunching on the loose gravel. He stood tall, ready to summon Kilgharrah and Aithusa and face the consequences of his neglect. The knowledge of possible dragonlord descendants burned in his mind like a newly-kindled flame, eager to be shared with them, despite the additional weight it added to his already long list of history-changing responsibilities.

The call made, it would take mere seconds for the dragons to arrive, and Merlin looked toward the skies, his heart quickening with anticipation. The warmth of the day embraced him, the sun's rays penetrating his skin and chasing away the chill of the mountain breeze. As he scanned the horizon, a glint of gold caught his eye, growing larger and more distinct as the dragons drew near.

Kilgharrah's scales were a sight to behold, each one a masterpiece of nature's craftsmanship. They glistened in the sunlight, a mesmerizing dance of gold and bronze that seemed to ripple with each powerful beat of his wings. Beside him, Aithusa soared with a grace that belied her youth, her white scales a dazzling contrast against the azure sky. The sunlight caught her form, setting her aglow like a star descended from the heavens, a beacon of hope and promise amidst the vast expanse.

A distant beat of wings, growing louder with each passing moment, heralded their approach. Kilgharrah had barely settled on the rocky ledge, his massive claws scraping against the stone, when a blur of white clashed against Merlin's chest. He stumbled backwards with an "oof!" as Aithusa let out a series of high-pitched squawks, her voice echoing off the mountain walls and carrying into the air. She nuzzled aggressively into his torso, her smooth scales brushing against the soft fabric of his tunic. Her small talons gripped his clothing for balance as she continued headbutting him with delight, her enthusiasm palpable in every movement.

Despite nearly crashing onto the rock floor by the exuberant hatchling, Merlin couldn't help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from his chest. "Well, hello to you too!" He gently stroked her ivory neck scales, marveling at their cool, smooth texture beneath his fingertips. He gazed fondly as she peered up at him, her luminous green eyes glinting with pure joy, reflecting like precious gems. Her enthusiasm melted away any nervousness in his heart, replacing it with a warmth that spread through his entire being. She chirped and clicked, her wings fluttering happily, stirring the air around them as he showered her with affection. A resounding certainty took root in his mind, unshakable and true – this bond was truly meant to be.

"You're here," Kilgharrah said, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder, drawing Merlin's attention back to the larger dragon.

"As I promised," he replied, standing tall, though a hand still caressed Aithusa's scaly head, reluctant to break the physical connection.

"The young one was surprised to receive your summons. I could barely contain her eagerness and she nearly navigated the aether with precision to find you."

"The first of many calls for her. You were right, my friend. I was wrong for not being here for her – and you." His words carried the weight of his sincerity, blanketing them with an overwhelming sensation as he met Kilgharrah's ancient, knowing gaze.

Kilgharrah pulled his head back, shock registering on his dragon face – if such a thing were possible – but Merlin was certain it was there, evident in the slight widening of his golden eyes and the subtle flaring of his nostrils. "You and my father had a special bond that I also refused to recognize and I have yet to come close to anything you and he shared. I failed you, Kilgharrah. And I'm sorry." Merlin's voice was thick with emotion, his words clinging to them like a tangible entity.

Kilgharrah blinked slowly, his craggy features softening, the hard lines and angles of his face becoming less severe. "The bond between dragonlord and dragon cannot be rushed nor forced. It must grow organically, in its own time... nurtured gently like a sapling." His deep voice was like the rumble of distant thunder, filled with ancient wisdom and understanding.

He lowered himself to meet Merlin's eyes directly, his huge head descending until they were near at the same level, close enough for Merlin to feel the heat of his breath and see the intricate patterns of his scales. "You were yet a hatchling yourself when we first met – grasping the extent of your gifts could not happen swiftly." Smoke puffed from his nostrils, curling lazily in the air before dissipating, carrying with it the scent of brimstone and magic. "I knew Balinor passed only his gift to you, not his knowledge. In that, I too failed you." The admission was a low growl, tinged with regret, self-reflection, and affection.

Merlin placed a grateful hand on Kilgharrah's weathered muzzle, feeling the rough, warm scales beneath his palm, a tangible connection between them. The great dragon leaned into his palm, the gentle pressure a comforting mass against Merlin's hand. For all their clashes, at the heart lay a soul-deep caring, a bond that transcended the boundaries of man and beast.

"But beginnings flow to awakened insight." Kilgharrah's voice was a low rumble, vibrating through Merlin's body like a physical force. He extended a wing, the leathery membrane rustling softly as it encircled Aithusa's delighted form next to Merlin, drawing them all together in a protective embrace. Aithusa chirped happily, her high-pitched voice a counterpoint to Kilgharrah's deep bass. "Our bonds shall only strengthen henceforth as kin."

Merlin looked up at Kilgharrah's vast form beside his own, the dragon's immense size dwarfing him and young Aithusa. No longer shrouded in mountain fog or cave shadows, Merlin truly saw them – kin united, bathed in hopeful, pristine light. Missteps and wasted years could not stand before such profound possibility, crumbling like ancient ruins before the force of their emerging awareness.

Merlin's thoughts drifted to the revelation he had stumbled upon in the library, the idea that there could be other dragonlord descendants out there, waiting to be found. He looked up at great dragon, a question burning in his eyes. "Kilgharrah," he began hesitantly, "in my research, I came across a thought that there might be other dragonlord descendants who survived the purge. Is it possible? Could there be others like me still alive?"

Kilgharrah's eyes widened slightly, a glimmer of surprise and intrigue flickering in their golden depths. He hummed thoughtfully, the sound vibrating through the air like a plucked harp string. "It is indeed possible, young warlock," he replied, his voice tinged with caution and curiosity. "The dragonlord gift is passed from father to son, and while Uther's purge was thorough, it is not inconceivable that some may have escaped his wrath."

Merlin's heart raced at the confirmation, a sense of excitement and purpose thrumming through his veins. "If they're out there, I must find them," he declared, his voice filled with determination. "If you—" he swallowed those words – he truly believed. "When you find the lost dragons, they could be the key to restoring the ancient bond with man, to building a future for our kind."

Kilgharrah nodded slowly, his gaze distant as if peering into the mists of time. "It will not be an easy task, Merlin," he warned, the magnitude of centuries in his voice. "The dragonlords have been scattered to the winds, their lineage hidden and their power dormant. And the lost dragons – creatures of the wild, untamed and untouched by a master's mind for many years. Still, they may roam in unknown lands, but their hearts yearn for this natural connection however difficult that may be in the beginning." His eyes fixed on Merlin, solemnity and faith glimmering in their depths. "It would be a daunting quest, Merlin, but if anyone can unite them, it is you – the last dragonlord, the one destined to bring balance to the world."

Merlin felt the burden of those words settle on his shoulders, a mantle of responsibility and hope that he would gladly bear. The future of the dragonlords now rested in his hands, a destiny that he embraced with every fiber of his being.

And yet, what would Arthur and Gwen think of this just-found mantle? Merlin could almost see the furrow of Arthur's brow and the tension in his jaw as he grappled with the idea of more dragons soaring above the kingdom. Would Gwen, with her warm, understanding eyes and the calm that seemed to radiate from her presence, be able to provide a side of reason and acceptance that could soothe a king's fears? Could Arthur one day embrace the dragons as noble allies, especially if there were more dragonlords to tame them? On the other hand, as Merlin gazed up at the endless expanse of the sky, he wondered if anyone, even a king, had the right to deny the dragons their place in the heavens.

Setting those daunting questions aside for now, Merlin took a deep breath, the crisp mountain air filling his lungs, and with it, a newfound sense of purpose that somehow restored his balance. With a final, affectionate stroke along Aithusa's snout, he turned to face Kilgharrah. The great dragon lowered his massive head, his golden eyes glinting with comprehension, the ancient wisdom of countless generations reflected in their depths.

Merlin reached out, his fingers brushing against the rough, weathered scales of Kilgharrah's neck. With a fluid motion, he hoisted himself up, his legs swinging over the dragon's broad back. He settled behind one of Kilgharrah's great horns, the ancient bone smooth and rough at the same time beneath his palms.

"Let's go find a safe training ground," Merlin declared, his voice ringing out clear and strong, carried by the wind. Aithusa chirped excitedly, her wings fluttering as she prepared to take flight.

Kilgharrah's muscles tensed beneath Merlin, the dragon's immense power thrumming like a barely contained storm. With a mighty push of his hind legs, Kilgharrah launched into the sky, his wings unfurling with a thunderous snap. Aithusa followed close behind, her smaller form darting gracefully through the air. As the wind whipped through his hair, Merlin let out a joyous laugh, the sound echoing across the boundless stretches of the heavens, a declaration of a new beginning for him and his dragon kin.