Merlin: The Light of Eriador

Chapter 22

Author’s note:

This is the final chapter, but you have to read the epilogue too.  It’s worth it!  Many things revealed…

Enjoy

Chapter 22

The funeral was held outside of the city walls.  Two fires were lit.  The biggest one was for King Ulrik whose body Arthur had found in one of the tents of the Druid camp.  It was confirmed by one of the knights that Bryan had killed the king with one swift stroke of his black sword.  The second fire was for the physician Emmerich who had during his short time in Vallonia earned the respect of the king’s knights and of the young prince Odran.

As for the Druid of the Black Leaf and disavowed prince of Vallonia Bryan, his body had been buried in the clearing where he had died.  A silent prayer for the salvation of his soul had been held by his brother, his widow Glinda and his young son William.  Both the woman and the young boy were to follow the party back to Vallonia.  Glinda, it would seem, was going to bring back the peace between the Druid clan and the nobility in that region.  Odran was to set out after the funeral.

As Merlin watched the assembly around the two fires, he could not help but wonder at the kind of life that his future self had expected to have whether in Vallonia or in Camelot.  Emmerich could have changed more than one event with his knowledge.  He could have become influential.  Yet he had chosen a path of non-interference, at least as far as everybody else was concerned.  It made sense to Merlin that his older counterpart had wished to stay away from Camelot and Arthur.  There were too many memories there and he might not have been able to go through with his mission.  It made less sense, however, that Emmerich’s opinion of his younger self was so distorted by recollections of hurt and grief that he would take such extremes measures.  As a habit, he had always tried not too think too much ahead.  He could not bear the idea of loosing Gaius, his mother and least of all Arthur.  But if there was one thing that he had learned from Arthur, it was bravery and courage.  Trying to change the past seemed somehow – Merlin shivered at the thought – like he had turned into a coward.  But who was he to judge?  He had not been through what Emmerich had.  Perhaps history was going to repeat itself at Arthur’s death, and that was a maddening thought.  In any case, fate had restored the natural order of things.  All he could hope for now was that Emmerich’s death had not been in vain.

Merlin took a few minutes to glance at the Crystal Dagger – the Taker – which was now in his care.  The clear blade was tinted with dried blood but he could not bring himself to clean it.  It was a reminder of the many lives the weapon had taken including, in some strange twisted way, his.

“Merlin!  Finally!”

The young sorcerer had barely noticed his friend and mentor Gaius striding towards him.  The physician was wearing dark red robes with golden thread for the funeral.  The assembly was scattering now and many people were speaking in small groups.  The fires were dying out and the air was heavy with smoke and sorrow.  Peeking above Gaius’s shoulders, Merlin could clearly see Arthur, his red cape blowing in the soft late day breeze.  The crown prince of Camelot was standing solemnly next to (the idea had not entirely sunk in yet) King Odran.  

“How did it go?”

“It’s done,” whispered Merlin, beaming at his guardian.

Gaius wrapped his arms around him and patted his back.  “I’m proud of you, my boy.”

Merlin ruffled the hair on the back of his head, sudden doubt overcoming him.  “They’re going to sound the warning bell soon,” he murmured.  “I wasn’t exactly discreet.”