The Path Away From Hate Is Long and Dotted with Socercy

Chapter One

The first sorcerer to appear at Arthur's feet was a boy having just reached the age of thirteen. He was sobbing, basically being held up by the guards. In front of him stood an old lady, with thinning, grey hair, accusing the boy of sorcery. Somewhere in the background, Arthur could hear the boy's mother screaming, in between her distraught screams he could make out the words of her begging for mercy, and promising him that her boy wasn't evil, he didn't mean to do it. The guards had taken her out of the room kicking and screaming and the boy's sobs only grew louder.

Arthur swallowed, he could see the old woman in his peripheral, face still red in rage. Arthur spared a moment to look at the other people in the room, most were silent with pursed lips, others were looking at Arthur and darted their eyes down when they realized he was looking at them. He spotted Merlin to the side, an almost ill look on his face and a nervous pattern to his shuffling. Merlin had always stood by Arthur in the fight against magic, but he remembers the night years ago when Merlin helped free that druid boy. Merlin was loyal, but he was also a good person. Which would Arthur be if he killed the boy?

Arthur thinks about what Uther would have done, and he almost feels sick. Countless druid camps were raided under his command, people were killed regardless of proof, age, or loyalty. People like the one in front of Arthur now. Arthur dismisses the woman's claims and orders that the boy and his mother are escorted back to their home. He can sense the palpable relief in the room.

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The next person to show up before Arthur with charges of sorcery was a young woman, most likely in her twenties. She had been caught floating jewelry out of stores and snatching coin pouches. She had green eyes. It was obvious that she was poor, with rags for clothes, feet without shoes, and a strong glare at the lavish clothes that Arthur wore. Chances were, she targeted the richest merchant on the street and planned on selling the things she stole. The moment she realizes that the punishment for the crime committed is death, her face drains of color. Instead of the normal sentence for practicing magic, Arthur assigns her a lighter sentence for theft. No one protests, a strange look passes over Merlin's face. Arthur hopes that the people won't pick up on his newfound weakness.

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Arthur has been thinking more lately. Wondering if his father was wrong, and most nights the thought feels treasonous, but some nights he entertains the idea. After all, it is just a thought, what harm can it do to just think? Apparently a lot, he found himself combing over every experience, every word he'd ever exchanged with his father. He tried to remember a moment of mercy or compassion that had been shown to a druid or sorcerer. Instead, all he could recall were the orders to wipe out entire camps, women and children included. The only magic user that had survived Uther's purge was Gaius. Maybe there was a reason, maybe magic truly did corrupt, but was that reason enough to forgo humanity? Was that not the definition of corruption? And so maybe there was a reason for Camelot's newfound mercy towards magic users.

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The first person to learn of his thoughts was Leon. It hadn't been something he had meant to express, but Leon had come to him during a moment of particularly personal agony. Arthur had been sulking around the training grounds for an hour when Leon found him pacing in between two destroyed training dummies.

"Is something wrong, Sire?"Arthur stopped his pacing and turned his figure to the head knight. Leon was looking at him, concern swimming in his blue eyes. Arthur sighed and sat down on a nearby haybale.

"No, I'm just thinking." It was a lie that even his own ears could hear.

"What about?" Leon knew he was lying, but he didn't let his worry seep into his words. Always steady and resolute.