Merlin: The Light of Eriador

Chapter 21

Chapter 21

The words were no longer necessary. The magic was his and it wasn't going anywhere.

With that thought, Merlin's eyes snapped opened. The first image that he got was that of a glowing blue light descending upon him. This can't be good, he thought as he rolled out of the way.

Immediately, he felt that his body was weak. There was a sharp pain in his shoulder. His vision was still blurry. He wasn't sure if he could even get up. He heard the clanging of swords close to him and then, a familiar young man's long desperate scream.

"Emmerich! No!"

Merlin forced himself to look. The sorcerer and court physician who was also his future self had crumbled to the ground and he wasn't moving. The Black Druid Bryan was standing over him with the Crystal Dagger in his hand, but the magical weapon was no longer glowing. The dark sorcerer was now looking at the weapon as though it had betrayed him.

"You!" he yelled, pointing at Merlin who had managed to stand. "You're no one. You're just a servant! How did you do it? How can you control the power of the Taker?"

"Let them go," said Merlin as defiantly as he could.

Bryan's men had caught Odran and Glinda and they were both struggling with a sword across their throats.

Madness was on Bryan's face.

"I want to know," screamed Bryan and Merlin clearly felt the distinctive bubbling magic.

"You'll have to kill me," replied the warlock.

Bryan merely sneered. He stepped unceremoniously over Emmerich's agonising body and strode to where Odran was standing. He then pointed the Crystal Dagger at the young prince's throat.

"Tell me, Emrys, or I will kill him," he declared. "I will kill the last prince of Vallonia as I killed his father and those traitors will be no more."

Arthur, where are you?, thought Merlin despairingly. And then, as though he was being answered, he heard the sound of many unsheathing swords and a clear familiar voice.

"Knights of Camelot and of Vallonia! On my command! Charge!"

The clanging of armours, swords and shields was enough to scare Bryan's thugs. The one holding Odran released his grip only a little and the prince took this opportunity to brake free of his captor. Then, in an outburst of rage, he caught his brother's wrist, the one which held the dagger. He was using all of his strength to turn the dagger around on its owner.

"Gehaeftan!" cried Merlin in an effort to restrain Bryan.

"You killed him!" spit Odran in his brother's face. "You killed our father. How could you?"

"He deserved it," snorted the dark sorcerer, struggling against Odran's grip and his magically bind body.

The Crystal Dagger was coming closer and closer to his chest.

"Then you really are the lesser son."

The gurgling sound was enough to tell Merlin that it was over. Odran's face was stern and he did not hold his brother's body to the ground as he had done for his knights after the attack in the King's Hall. He merely handed out the dagger to Merlin and then he ran to his mentor's side.

The knights had rapidly taken over and now they were chasing the leaderless horde across the clearing. Merlin glanced rapidly around and saw Arthur swinging his long sword at men twice his size but with no difficulty at all.

"Merlin," said a hoarse voice.

He didn't want to see his older self die. It felt awkward. It was a reminder of something that was going to happen to him sooner or later. Moreover, he wasn't sure if he was happy with the way that he had turned out as a person.

As he watched, uncertain if he should step closer, he saw Odran turn over his former physician and return him on his back. He had check the wound and his diagnosis wasn't good.

"No man is worth your… tears, Odran, but occasionally, tears are… acceptable," muttered the old sorcerer to his pupil.

Odran did not reply. His eyes were red and his lips were tight. He placed Emmerich's head on a folded piece of cloth and after that he rose to his feet, still silent, and nodding in Merlin's direction.

When he saw that Merlin was hesitating, he whispered: "If you have anything to ask, now is the time."

Merlin felt young and insignificant as he kneeled besides the man who was his older self. The old sorcerer's strands of white hair were now mixed with dust and rain in such a way that he looked grey and old. On his face, Merlin could see years of struggling and fighting. What he really wanted to know was the proportion of the grief that was really related to his magic.

"It's all right," said Emmerich in a hoarse voice.

Merlin was aware that many ears were listening, but still he could not let himself die. "I can heal…"

"No, you mustn't," cut in the old physician. "Arthur is here. He's seen me. It would give away your magic. It must remain a secret."

"Yes, you've made that clear," mumbled the young sorcerer.

Emmerich laughed a little and then he coughed and a drop of blood appeared on the corner of his mouth.

"I was wrong… to intervene," he said weakly. "Arthur would call me an idiot… yet again… for taking that stupid Light… of Eri…"

"You're not an idiot," replied Merlin.

"Better get used… to it," snapped Emmerich.

He coughed again. His breathing was unsteady.

"Arthur is… here. To have seen him – served him – again was… priceless."

Merlin glanced up and saw that the prince was no longer fighting. He was watching in the distance as though he meant to give Merlin and Emmerich some privacy.

"Don't give up… on him," whispered Emmerich. "Don't ever… He is… everything we… hoped."

With those words, his chest stopped moving and his eyes became glossy. He was gone.

Merlin took a few minutes to look into the face again but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything. It was like watching a relative he had never known or had no recollection of. This situation just wasn't normal. In his heart he knew that whoever Emmerich was, who he had been or would become, that didn't mean anything anymore because he – Merlin – was going to be different. Emmerich's death would not be in vain; he was going to change his fate. From now on, he was going to make a new future for himself.

At the present time, though, he felt drained and weak. He wanted to sleep. He wanted someone to put him on a horse, drop him on his bed in Gaius's chambers and wake him in two days with a nice breakfast.

When he finally looked up, having hidden the Crystal Dagger under his shirt, he saw that Arthur was now standing next to Odran. The remaining knights had gathered around the young prince as well. Arthur's tone was solemn when he spoke and it was meant for all to hear.

"The King is dead. Long live the King."

At once, all the Knights of Vallonia, those of Camelot, and even Arthur Pendragon, kneeled in front of Prince Odran in a gesture of deep respect and allegiance. The prince was still speechless. He seemed so young, but at the same time he was ready.

On his cheek, there was a single tear.