Merlin: The Loneliest Hour

Chapter 21: Magic is not evil

Chapter 21: Magic is not evil

Arthur Pendragon was standing next to his horse near the path in front of the Crossroads Inn, ready to leave. They had changed their clothes so that they would not be recognized; except Gaius whose comings and goings were less likely to be noticed. Arthur was now wearing a long and muddy brown coat which Merlin had said made him look "kind of wild". Gwaine, Lancelot and Leon had borrowed clothes from the assassins and they were now all dressed in black. Merlin, who was still unsteady on his feet and shivering all over (though he was trying to hide it), had traded the green druid cloak for a warmer one, heavy and black, that belonged to Iseldir himself. The former manservant looked outlandish in the heavy material especially since it was too big for him, but he didn't seem as bothered by it as he was by his new status of 'sorcerer'.

Not to mention he's also my cousin, thought Arthur, suddenly feeling the full weight of this information like a knot in his stomach.  Another heir to the throne.  If anybody knew...

He tried to shake off the idea.  He had heard stories of kingdoms being thorn apart by feuding heirs, but Merlin would never seek to usurp the throne.  That was a ridiculous notion. His loyalty could not be doubted. It was the loyalties of others such as Agravaine that Arthur now feared.  But he couldn't ask his friend to share the burden yet. It was too soon. Merlin had not fully recovered from being almost dead. Unsteady as he was, news like that was likely to finish him off.

The druid and the young sorcerer were now speaking in hushed voices a short distance from where Arthur was.  Technically the prince wasn't eavesdropping, but still he could not stop himself from listening discreetly to the private conversation, just as a way to put his mind on another topic.

"I wish I knew how to guide you, I really do, but the truth is that I have very little experience," Iseldir was saying softly to Merlin.

"My magic – It’s too powerful.  I feel like I’m on the edge of loosing control.  I never had this problem before. Magic was always natural for me, like breathing."  Merlin's voice was strained, full of doubt.

Iseldir was shaking his head.  "I'm afraid I am powerless to help you, as are the rest of my people."

"I'm sorry," Merlin began to say.

"Don't be," cut in Iseldir.  "To see you standing here brings me more hope than you can possibly imagine, Emrys.  All is not lost."

Merlin’s face was half-hidden under his hood so that Arthur could not make out his expression.

"Everything feels... wrong," Merlin managed to say.  And then his voice became a whisper. "Why me?"

"These things are not clear," said the druid.

Merlin snorted mildly.  "You sound like Kilgharrah."

"Who is that?"

"The Great Dragon."

Of course, thought Arthur, laughing inwardly at the irony.  Merlin is a sorcerer.  Why shouldn't he have a dragon to speak to?  How could I be foolish enough to think that I could have killed the Great Dragon all on my own?  It was Merlin all along.

He half-expected to learn shortly that Merlin could fly, talk to unicorns, command the wind and change his appearance.  It had been unrealistic enough to imagine Merlin as a physician, to picture him as a sorcerer was plain ludicrous. Yet, somehow, it had happened.  Merlin was speaking about his magic being like breathing. How on Earth could he possibly have missed that?

"Then Kilgharrah is right," the druid was saying.  “It is never certain why some people carry the fate of the world on their shoulders.  I suppose that we should be thankful that the burden has landed on you."