The Legacy of Salazar

The Four Founders

Within a few months, King Arthur's proclamation had spread to the neighbouring Kingdoms and various magic users came to inspect if such claims were indeed true.

One night, Merlin was lying on his back, staring at the stony grey expanse above him while glimmers of moonlight filtered through his open window. Logic urged him to close his eyes, to drift off to sleep—Arthur would be annoyed if he started the day with a yawn, especially when they still had so much to do. But, try as he might, he lied awake, thinking of nothing and everything at the same time.

Crack!

Merlin nearly fell off his bed as a single loud crack crashed through his room, sending him to a squat beside on the floor, as his magic churned within him. It was there, at his fingertips in seconds, a thousand spells at his tongue—each more aggressive than the last. Four people stood before him, crowding the small room that had been designated as his own. And, for a moment, all he could do was stare, crouching by the side of his bed like a child.

They all very different.

"Emrys?" It was the man at the front with wild ginger hair and a pointed leather hat. He looked doubtful, and even as Merlin watched he turned back to a man in an acid green cloak. "You're sure this is the place?"

Merlin got to his feet, eyes narrowing. "And what? Were you expecting a different reaction to just apparating here in the middle of the night?" he said, annoyed. "You know you could just knock, or maybe come by in the morning. Like normal people."

"We couldn't be sure if the rumours about Albion were true," the man in red said again, looking sheepish. A very pretty woman with long black hair and a navy cloak sighed loudly, pushing her way to the front.

"Excuse Godric, he just couldn't wait another moment to see you, Merlin," and she gave a disapproving glare at her comrade. "I am Rowena Ravenclaw," and she gave a small bow. "We have a proposition for you and King Arthur."

Merlin raised an eyebrow. "Then you should probably make an audience with the King and me. You know, in the morning."

Rowena clicked her tongue but didn't say anything. She looked slightly affronted. Merlin was willing to bet that no one had ever spoken to her in such a way—and granted, he normally wouldn't have. But he was in his nightgown and it was more than a little awkward and irritating that they had intruded into his chambers.

"How did you even get in here?" he asked, shaking his head. "You can only apparate somewhere you've been before."

"That would be my trickery."

The man dressed in green made no move to come forward, leaning all too casually against Merlin's dresser. He smirked shamelessly, though his features were hard to make out in the gloom. He chuckled, and then lifted his sleeve to reveal a thick-banded poisonous blue snake wrapped around his wrist. His smile broadened, dark green eyes glinting mischievously.

"She knew where to lead us."

Merlin stared in wonder at the creature as it lifted its head to look at him. Though, it seemed he was alone in that thought, for the others stiffened and the second woman—a pretty curly-haired blonde—made a small squeak of anxiety.

"Salazar, do you have to do that? It's cramped in here y-you know?"

"Anyway," Rowena cut across, glancing at the snake with a wary expression. "We want you to help us with the planning process as well."

"Planning for what?" Merlin asked, finally tearing his gaze away from the snake.

Godric grinned, clapping his hands together. "What do you think," he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Of making a school that would teach Magic?"