Chapter 12 Crossroads

Gaius stood solitary amidst the familiar bubbling vials, creases of worry deepening in the candlelight. How swift the young take up mantle and duty, the role of royal physician now belonging to another. Not too long ago he thought he could remain here and serve, but in response, his withered frame protested him now, yearning for rest, for warmth beside his beloved so long denied.

Decay permeates all things, he pondered sadly – mind, body, purpose alike erode. But the heart outlasts stone given reason. His would endure the hundred-league trudge to Alice's rural door if but to glimpse her smile. This work now passed; one final patient remained ere he laid down his burden; and if she would receive him, grant an old fool reprieve.

Merlin lumbered into their chambers, shoulders slumped and expression of agitation. He plopped heavily onto a bench, struggled to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "I couldn't reason with Arthur. He won't change his mind."

Gaius' shoulders stiffened, his gnarled hands shaking slightly as he continued sorting bottles. "I held no hope that Arthur would rule any different. Alice committed treason; she escaped his dungeons and fled Camelot."

Merlin swallowed a lump, his eyes glistened deep blue sorrow. "I don't understand him."

Gaius exhaled softly, then came and stood before Merlin, gazing down at him solemnly. "Of course, you do. And you must understand me as well. I am diminished in body and spirit, Merlin. I plan to spend my remaining days with Alice in Deira."

Merlin sprang to his feet and grasped his shoulders, desperation in his eyes. "No Gaius, you can't!"

"I've already come to terms with this decision. It's time you do also."

"Arthur must reconsider." His voice cracked; his rims turned red. "He must see that you're irreplaceable."

"That's not true, my boy, and you know it." Gaius returned to his workbench, adjusted the flames of the burners. Noticing the silence, he looked at Merlin.

Lips pulled in a hard line, anger shadowed Merlin's face. "Why are you giving up so easily? You always told me to fight for what's right."

"Arthur is doing the right thing," he said sternly. "It wasn't fair to ask this of him in the first place. Alice and I are both guilty."

"Gaius…!?"

"Enough, Merlin!" They stared at each other – the old and the new, doctor to doctor, father to son. His heart was breaking too. He softened his expression as he went back to Merlin. "We must both move forward."

"That's so far away – more than one hundred leagues from here. I may never see you again…" Merlin wavered like a lone sapling struggling against despair.

"I'm sorry." Gaius gripped his shoulder, knowing he must be the oak refusing to bend. "I cannot stay," he uttered at last, hollow yet resolved. His duty branched toward the woman awaiting, each league away carving deeper loneliness.

He crossed to the storage cupboard, removed a few things concealing his gift – heard Merlin's breath hitch when he withdrew an ornately-carved wooden box. Hoisting it onto the table with a heave, he unlatched it, but didn't open it. He gave Merlin a long, gentle look, his crooked hands resting on the sturdy chest.

But Merlin persisted, pain etched on his face at the inevitable separation. "There's still much I can learn from you – medicine and all." In his hesitation and flushed cheeks, Gaius' spirit dwindled a little more.

Merlin had a new mentor to train him in magic too, and he displaced again by the young. But from the day Merlin walked into these chambers, he had protected him, nurtured him, trained him in magic and medicine as best he could. His guiding hands had always been upon him. He trembled with cold realization that those hands may never hold his boy again.

Yet, he knew Merlin was ready, his magic stronger – especially now. A sense of loss may terrify the man, but he had little to fear for himself in this world.

"You've learned all that you can from me," Gaius replied gently, facing truths that Merlin refused to grasp. "As a physician with magic, I'm sure you'll be able to cure anything, Merlin, as long as you remember to temper wisdom and heart in equal measure."

He shrugged weakly. "You know me - my reckless nature takes over sometimes." He tried to chuckled, but he swallowed it quickly.

"I know, dear boy," he said, his smile endearing. "And some mistakes may be costly. I only hope that whatever path you follow, that you do it because you know it's the right thing to do. Insomuch, you have Galahad now."

There. He'd said it. Another reason for leaving behind those dear to him, yet bittersweet his departure knowing that he was headed toward another beloved.

Merlin lowered his eyes, his cheeks blossoming bright again as he stepped a few paces away. His shoulders straightened quickly though, and he turned around. "I've learned many new spells with his help – a deeper understanding of magic's foundations than ever before." Wonder tinged his voice, his expression glowed with awe of pure clarity. "It has allowed me to see how magic's opulent power interweaves with all existence. I can touch it, smell it, taste it – I'm Emrys, and I know what that means. Gaius, I can summon the elements with thought alone now."

His gaze fell upon the drying herbs on the door pegs. Eyes flashing a deeper gold than Gaius had ever seen before, the shriveled leaves stirred, rich green flooding back into them, lively and bursting once more with vibrant scent. Merlin laughed softly as Gaius' heart swelled at this small act, echoing the many times Merlin had used magic for good – secretly fighting and healing and nurturing.

"Well, done, my boy." He looked at Merlin with astonishment, here to witness what he'd always believed: that he was magic. He knew Merlin's innate powers could not be restrained for long, and woe unto any who dared test that power now.

Merlin looked at him sadly, his smile fading. "I suppose it helps that we can practice magic freely and unafraid. but Galahad is fine a knight who will one day return to Clarwick. He can't remain at my side forever." He sighed, disappointment in his quaking voice, spread across his face. "I'll need help. I can't do this alone."

"I know that as well, which is why I'm recommending Leonard Vanne from midtown as a replacement. He's a familiar presence in Camelot and a kind healer."

Merlin thinned his lips, nodded reluctantly. "A fair – choice, I suppose. He's helped us from time to time – comforting bedside manner."

"Indeed," Gaius replied with a smile, amused. "I've also summoned Ruadan Firestone to assist Leonard. If there's one thing I've learned, is it requires more than one physician to keep Camelot healthy. The city has ever grown and will continue—."

"Ruadan? Sefa's father?" he scowled. "I don't know anything about them – or him, where he comes from."

"Rest assured that the king and queen are fully aware. Would it help to know that they're druids?"

Merlin's brows rose. "Druids?" Surprise tinged his voice, his eyes lit up.

"From Powys. You shouldn't be shocked that more of your kin are returning to Camelot in need of work. He lives in the lower town and will be here tomorrow."

"I've been too busy to notice, but another of my kind here is welcomed news." Merlin's fingers tapped anxiously against his trousers. Gaius rolled his eyes – more fearful self-pity forthcoming. "But no one can truly replace you, Gaius."

"With his years of experience and Leonard's bedside manner, I'm sure they'll both work well together – all of you."

"They're not you," he scoffed, crossing his arms. "Albion needs you. Arthur needs you."

Gaius sighed. Merlin's defiance was digging his own despair deeper. "He has you, and Galahad – and even Geoffrey. With Ruadan and Leonard, Albion will rise with or without me. No more arguing, Merlin. Do you recognize this?" He patted the box, then ran his hand along the smooth, heavyweight wood.

Merlin nodded. "I think so," he said, defeat in his voice, now more subdued.

"I've been keeping it for you." He opened the chest filled with gold coins and Merlin's eyes grew round, the squinted with confusion, a grin on his face.

"I don't understand," he said, hesitantly reaching for one of the coins. "This is your reward for defeating Edwin."

"It rightfully belongs to you. We both know that I didn't defeat him – you did."

Merlin gazed at him thoughtfully, rubbed his arm with gentle affection. "It's not enough payment for what you've done for this kingdom." He let the coin slip from his hand back into the chest. "Please, keep it with my blessing. Build a home – a manor or something for you and Alice – hire servants." He laughed. "I'll haggle for an increase in my wages with Arthur."

Gaius laughed with him. He knew Merlin would wear down Arthur like an old shoe to win that argument.

Merlin reached into the side pocket of his tunic and pulled out a worn and faded red scarf. "Something to remember me by," he said softly. Tears finally came to Gaius' eyes, his lips quivering as Merlin gently placed it in his hand.

"I don't need anything to remember you by, my boy." Merlin's tears fell, too and Gaius embraced him tightly.

"I'll take you to Deira when you're ready," he said, his head resting on Gaius' shoulder. "Anytime you need me, I promise I'll be there."

Gaius held him close – two lives unwound and paths diverged – one beginning anew unburdened, another's sunset filled with possibility.