"Ma'am, ma'am," Merlin rushed over to the nearest body that had been struck by a green flash, quickly feeling for a pulse, when none was detected, Merlin stood up again and surveyed the damage to the little village and its residents.
There were bodies strewn about the place, lying crumpled on the ground and were very much lifeless. There were roughly twenty maybe thirty innocent people that had been struck down like they meant nothing, as if the individuals who had committed the crime thought of these people as mere garbage.
Merlin frowned at the scene before him, the shops were turning to ash as he looked, some had already collapsed. The cafe where he had eaten breakfast that morning was little more than a pile of rubble and the post office next to it looked as if a bomb had been dropped.
The devastation was immense, what had been the hub and heart of Bruton was gone. Merlin felt a fury rise up inside his chest as he raced over to an elderly man who was stumbling out of the little bookshop on the corner.
"Sir!" Merlin called as he neared the man, "Are you alright?"
"Mr Wyllt is that you?" The elderly man cried out in pain as he grasped desperately at Merlin's offered hand.
"Yes sir," Merlin replied gently, helping the man out of the destroyed building.
"Thank you," The elderly man replied nearly breathlessly, "My right leg is broken I think and my lungs hurt."
"Let's hope the hospital is still standing," Merlin responded as he helped the man over to a fallen slab of rock and let the man sit down, "I think it survived the attack."
"Attack?" The man asked, shaking his head in disbelief, "Not in Bruton, those don't happen here…. Well they never used too, who would have done such a thing… My shop it's been reduced to cinders!"
"I have no idea," Merlin replied quietly, looking around at the devastation once more, "But I intend to find out… Look, There's a doctor, I'll get him to come over and help you."
Merlin rushed over to a man wearing a doctor's coat and a name tag.
"Are you a doctor?" The man glanced up at Merlin in bewilderment as he looked around himself and nodded his head.
"Oh good," Merlin responded urgently, pointing to the elderly man sitting on the rock slab, "He needs help, I think he has smoke inhalation and a broken leg."
"Okay, what happened here?" The doctor asked Merlin as they approached the man.
"Those people who attacked the bridge I think," Merlin replied frowning, the doctor's eyes widened in horror, "Is this man all right with you? I need to go check on something."
"He'll be fine." The doctor said to Merlin before turning his full attention to his patient, "Mr. Tibbs, how many times do I have to tell you to keep yourself out of trouble?"
Merlin left the elderly man in the capable and experienced hands of the good doctor and walked to the other side of the village, the place where he had last seen the two sorcerers. Closing his eyes briefly to centre himself, Merlin pushed his magic out from his body to feel for the magic that had carried the two men away.
The magic they had used to leave the village was different to the magic they had used on the townsfolk; the village and its people had been subject to such dark magic it was unthinkable and the magic they had used to leave was neutral.
Merlin wondered if he could track them, by following the traces of magic that they had left behind. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he ever came across those two again he would be able to recognise them based solely on their magical signatures.
Feeling for the neutral magic that was contained to only this small patch of ground, Merlin concentrated hard. Merlin let his own magic wrap around the fading traces that were left, he felt for where the men had gone and tried to use his magic to take him there.
Half way through his vanishing act, Merlin was almost there when it felt like he had hit a brick wall. Something, quite possibly an enchantment on the location of wherever they had disappeared to was blocking him from going there.
"Damn," Merlin muttered to himself, as he stood amidst the devastation, his heart sank at the sight of the lifeless bodies scattered across the village. The senseless act of violence had claimed the lives of innocent people, leaving behind a grim reminder of the cruelty and disregard for human life exhibited by those responsible. "I'll find them, just not today I guess."
With a heavy heart, Merlin approached each fallen individual, paying his respects to their lost lives. He couldn't help but feel a mix of anger, sadness, and disbelief at the callousness with which these innocent villagers had been targeted. Each life extinguished represented a unique story, dreams, and hopes abruptly cut short. Merlin's mind raced with questions. Who were these individuals that had carried out such a heinous act? What motivated them to commit such atrocities? The magnitude of the crime weighed heavily on him, fuelling his determination to seek justice for the victims and their grieving families.
Gathering his strength, Merlin made a mental note of the number of lives lost. The approximate count stood at twenty to thirty innocent souls, their vibrant existence snuffed out by the green flashes of light. The image of their crumpled bodies lying on the ground served as a painful reminder of the fragility of life and the darkness that lurked in the world. As Merlin surveyed the damage, a mixture of grief and anger swelled within him. These innocent people were not disposable, as the perpetrators seemed to believe. Each one had been someone's loved one, a friend, a neighbour, or a vital member of the community. Their loss would be deeply felt by all who knew them.
Making sure that nobody was watching him, Merlin performed his vanishing act to return home and quickly let himself inside the cosy abode. He threw himself onto the lounge and grabbed up the remote to his TV.
It made a fuzzy sound when he turned it on and the picture turned grey for a moment before fixing itself. Flipping through the channels, Merlin turned to the news.
One news reporter was talking about the attacks and was just mentioning that Bruton had been targeted that day, and that no less than twenty-five people had been killed as a result. It was truly amazing how fast the news travelled, Merlin sure hadn't seen any reporters at the scene.
"Arthur," Merlin whispered as he turned the sad news off, "I wish you were here, whatever is going on would surely merit your return, it's bad, I know it is."
Of course no one answered him, no one ever answered Merlin's wishes or prayers. But giving up hope was not in his nature, and Merlin knew when the time came everything he asked for would come to pass.
As Merlin lay in bed that night, his mind filled with memories of the adventures he shared with Arthur, a bittersweet nostalgia washed over him. The bond they shared was unlike any other, forged through countless trials and triumphs. Despite the pain and darkness that surrounded him, Merlin found solace in those cherished memories.
In the quiet of the night, Merlin couldn't shake off the feeling of longing for Arthur's presence. The weight of responsibility and the gravity of the current situation seemed to weigh heavier without his friend by his side. Arthur's absence left a void that no one else could fill. But Merlin knew that he couldn't dwell solely on his wishes for Arthur's return. He had a duty to protect and serve, and he couldn't let his longing distract him from the task at hand. The attacks on the village and the sorcerers responsible demanded his unwavering attention and dedication.
With determination in his heart, Merlin vowed to carry on the fight, even in Arthur's absence. He knew that the destiny they once shared was not yet fulfilled, and he couldn't afford to lose hope. Merlin had seen first-hand the power of hope and perseverance in the face of darkness, and he drew strength from those experiences. As he drifted off to sleep, dreams of past victories and future triumphs danced in Merlin's mind. He envisioned a world where magic and humanity coexisted harmoniously, where darkness was vanquished, and where Arthur stood by his side once more. These dreams fuelled his resolve and reminded him of the importance of his mission.