This Merlin adventure is based partly on old celtic mythology and the BBC series and partly on... well, things I made up from the aforementioned. I'll be using my other Merlin fan fics as part of the legends too, you can find those stories under my works.
Thank you so much for reading - please comment if you have any feedback for me! Enjoy! :)
- MysteryOfWordsDK
--------------------------------------------------
Most children believe in some form of magic. It might be a dragon, a wizard, or perhaps a spell. Toy wands, swords, and other ancient weapons were now sold as toys and featured as props in movies. There was little evidence tying these things to reality. In fact, most adults did not believe in magic. They rarely played with swords or thought of magical worlds. They might make a wish but eventually they would return to their reality, forgetting once again about the possibility of magic. Young Merlin had always wished for something more, something he didn't quite know what was. Maybe it was because he was tired of living in a small village or maybe because he had had enough of the pitying stares people gave him. He wanted to run away and as a last present, his mother had given him the opportunity to do just that. The earth covering her grave was still fresh, the flowers still blooming as Merlin clutched her letter in his hand. She had told him not to open it before she was gone, and he had fulfilled her wish. The weather was unusually nice, as if she had sent him a final goodbye. Maybe she knew he had taken her offer and was leaving today. Probably. At least he felt it was the right thing to do now. There was nothing to stay here for anymore. A bubbling feeling rose in his stomach at this thought. The day was new, and he had no idea just where he would be at the end of it. He had bought a map of London and tried to memorize the path to his new rooms at Mr. Archibald Gaius' house from the station. Archibald Gaius was a strange name, Merlin thought. Almost more so than his own; Thomas Merlin. In fact, most people called him Merlin because there had been quite a few Thomases at his school. The only person to call him by his first name had been his mother. And she wasn't there anymore.
Merlin put his hand on the cold stone that bore her name and closed his eyes a moment. He whispered his love for her and then left slowly. He was carrying all his bags to the train station and the walk was a bit long. It gave Merlin some moments to gather himself again. It gave him time to muster a little smile. He was beginning to feel excited about this new adventure. He had never been to London before since he and his mother had travelled so rarely – or at all, in fact. They had seldom been anywhere widely populated as his mother preferred nature and peace. She disliked buses and trains and had walked anywhere she could. A recluse, some might have called her, even though Merlin had always been welcomed in the local village. He had spent the last few years working in the local supermarket and then taking a few shifts at the local pub to pay the rent while his mother had been sick. Now, though, he had gotten himself an entirely different job. His mother somehow knew historian Archibald C. Gaius who worked at the Royal Museum of History. It was situated in connection to the royal palace itself. Merlin was to help with the cleaning and preservation of the exhibition and assist Mr. Gaius in his work. To Merlin, this sounded interesting. He loved history and felt strangely connected to certain parts of it. Most likely, this was because his name seemed to be a funny coincidence in this respect. To be named Merlin and loving history sounded more like a joke than anything else. Nevertheless, it was true. In his bags, Merlin kept two history books which he was reading out of interest rather than need.
The train whistle was the signal of this new beginning really taking off. Having scored a window seat, Merlin spent the first minutes of the journey gazing out over the countryside as the train accelerated towards King's Cross Station. Merlin smiled as he looked at the rain. It was a completely new experience. All his things were stuffed into a tiny backpack and he patted the credit card in his pocket that had not yet been used. Merlin just hoped that he would be happy in his new home.
"Entering London Victoria Station. Please keep your belongings with you at all times and thank you for traveling with the LondonXpress. Thank you for your attention," a voice declared.
Merlin scooped up the steaming cup of coffee he had standing in front of him. He was smiling so much that his face had to get stuck like that at some point, but he was too busy to notice. An elderly businessman, who had spent the entire journey trying to make out the words in his newspaper by narrowing his eyes to the size of squished peas, was giving the young newcomer a disdainful look of as if he couldn't stand to have youth in his presence. Merlin kept on smiling, however. When he was let out onto the platform, he learned just how different London could be.He got pushed from every possible direction and almost dropped his coffee. He attempted to navigate through the jet stream of people heading for the station hall. What met him was a sight; It was a grand hall flooded with people that were either busy or had no idea where they were going. A newspaper was screaming "ATTEMPT ON THE CROWN PRINCE'S LIFE - NO SUSPECTS YET". This got Merlin's attention and he stared at the photo of the young prince, trying to imagine what had happened. For a second, Merlin could have sworn the picture moved. He blinked rapidly as if to clear his mind and turned away from the newspaper stand. Then he felt yet another push.
"Oi!" he yelled as the burning hot coffee he had spent 3 solid pounds on soaked his new shirt. The man responsible didn't notice a thing and kept on babbling orders into his mobile phone. Merlin lost him in the crowd and scowled at the uncomfortable wetness of the spilled coffee. He went to the nearest sandwich bar to ask for a few napkins and was handed only one. They had a policy of giving only one napkin per paying customer. It was a climate-thing. Merlin stared in disbelief.
"We have discounts on heated sandwiches this week," the cashier said, shrugging. Merlin rolled his eyes and searched for the nearest toilet. At least there they didn't charge for the use of toilet paper - but they did charge for a visit. Feeling slightly relived, he was able to dry his clothes a bit. Now he could continue and find his way to his new home. He had gotten the address for the renter from his mother before she passed. He was apparently a distant relative. Merlin had never heard of him before. The flat was situated near the tube station West Finchley on the Northern line about 20 minutes from central London. Without too much trouble getting a ticket for the tube, Merlin asked a few people for directions and found his way to 237 Nether Street, Barnet. Checking the address paper, Merlin took a deep breath and knocked on the door belonging to a Mr Archibald Gaius. Merlin raised an eyebrow. That name was almost as rare as his own. He knocked on the door again, waiting for an answer.
It took a few moments before a short, white-haired man appeared at the door. "And who are you, boy?" he asked suspiciously. "I hope you're not looking for a flat to rent, I haven't got any room left."
Merlin smiled. "Mr Gaius, we talked on the phone. My name is Thomas Merlin Hunnithson." he explained and reached out to shake the old man's hand. " I'm the son of Hannah Merlin Hunithson."
The old man went completely blank for a second. "Oh!" he exclaimed then, totally and utterly surprised. "But I expected you to come on Friday!" He scratched his forehead.
Merlin frowned. "But it is Friday..." he said, biting his lower lip.
The old man's eyebrows shut up even further. "Oh..." he repeated and then shooed Merlin inside. "Well, come in then, we don't have all day. You wait for me in hallway and I'll find you your key momentarily..." Merlin nodded and waited patiently as the older man went searching for said key and came back with a small bundle. Merlin looked confused. Mr. Gaius just looked at him. "Do you fancy taking a look at your new place? Perhaps you prefer to stay here?" he scratched his nose.
"I-I just... I want to see it," Merlin answered and let his new renter lead the way. They went up the stairs, 23 of them to be precise, and arrived at a white door with a sign that read 'Thomas Merlin'.
Merlin smiled as Mr. Gaius unlocked the door. The flat consisted of one room with a bed, a kitchen and a small TV. There was a bathroom in the corner and a small closet. Mr. Gaius kindly explained the rules to Merlin, but gave him a few odd stares. Merlin tried not to think anything of it.
"I hope you will find it comfortable," Mr. Gaius said. "And, uh... I am truly sorry about your mother. She was a wonderful person." The old man smiled sadly.
Merlin could not get himself to meet Mr. Gaius' eyes and mumbled a quick 'thanks'. He started unpacking.
"Right," Mr. Gaius said. "Any questions, simply come and knock on my door. Good night."
The day had been long, but full of experiences. However, the one that had made the biggest impression was still the moving newspaper photo.
YOU ARE READING
Merlin: In Modern Times
Fiksi PenggemarIt is the start of an unlikely friendship that may or may not be stronger than the two boys thought possible. Could there really be such a thing as destiny or is it just something that belongs in the old Arthurian legends? - A modern interpretation...