Merlin, the adventures continue...

Chapter 8: Open-eyed conspiracy

“I told you,” the Spirit said, head cocked slightly to one side, a smile on his lips, “that you would find that ancient magic deep within you.”

“Where am I?” Merlin whispered. The whole environment was hazy, like he was engulfed in thick clouds, everything looked white and he felt so terribly tired and sleepy.

“How does it feel now?” the Spirit asked, not bothering to answer Merlin’s question. “How does it feel to have all that magical power. Be proud, friend Emrys, be proud of your great achievement! You’ve managed to unlocked all that ancient magic deep within you and believe me, you are going to need it.”

“Please, what is this place,” pleaded Merlin, feeling dizzy and disoriented now.

“Ah, but of course, how rude of me, please forgive me. You’re in my world now, Emrys. Well, almost that is, you are in the equivalent of your courtyard. But do not worry, I will sent you back in due time. I just needed to know if you are strong enough for the greatest challenge you will soon have to face.” His whole demeanor was grave now, the red around his eyes in stark contrast with the whiteness of his skin, eyes that looked unblinkingly at Merlin.

“What are you talking about.”

“Through my art I foresee the danger that you, my friend, are in… All will be revealed to you when the time of revealing will make itself known. I wish I could say that I didn’t know, but then I would be lying, wouldn’t I. Great events are about to unfold, events that could mean the difference between life and death. But, my dear Emrys, you can hardly do anything sleeping standing up like this. Your sleeping spell must be counteracted first, but that task is out of your hands now. You have done your part, now it is Galahad’s turn. You must place your trust in him, however difficult that may be, for if he fails, Camelot is doomed and so are you. ” Merlin felt himself drawn further and further into those black and still unblinking eyes. “trust, Emrys, trust… Remember Morgana…” Fog patches now floated between Merlin and the Spirit and there stood Kilgharrah, looking at Merlin with black unblinking eyes: “Trust, young warlock, trust is a fine thing, but it can also be a dangerous thing, remember Morgana? I have warned you before about that witch and look at her now, she is doing everything she can to kill you and Arthur. And heed my words, young warlock, do not trust that druid boy either… And now you’re asked to trust that insufferable prat, do not trust…” and slowly Kilgharrah started to dissolve in the mist and there Balinor stood: “Trust in yourself, my son, trust in yourself…” and before Merlin could say anything, Balinor too was gone. Nothing but mist remained, mist like a cold and wet blanket. Merlin started walking, for in the distance he could see lights, very faint and blurry, but lights none the less, warm and welcoming lights. After walking what seemed like hours, he could discern a shape; a castle, a castle not unlike Camelot. He took one weary step after another, but the castle would not come nearer. Tears welled up in his eyes and exhausted he fell to the ground, unable to take another step. He saw faces hovering above him and around him, faces like wispy clouds, and they all looked like the Spirit, like Balinor, like Kilgharrah. He saw Arthur lying in a pool of blood and Mordred standing over him, laughing, his sword dripping with blood. He saw Morgana, sneering as she looked with contempt at Arthur, and then she took Arthur’s bloodied crown and put it on her own head. “Kill the witch… kill the witch…,” he heard in the distance, like a whisper on the wind, “kill the witch… kill the druid boy…” and he felt himself falling. Falling and falling into a deep chasm and his world turned black.

“Merlin…” whispered the voices in unison, “Merlin…, and Merlin opened his eyes, but he saw nothing but impenetrable darkness. He didn’t even know if he was sitting or standing of still falling. There was nothing. “Merlin…” Again the voices, urgent now, all those voices merging into one. It sounded familiar, that voice… “Merlin, wake up, Merlin…” Gaius! It was Gaius’ voice. “Merlin…” No, Percival’s voice. Or was it Gwen’s? Silence again. “Merlin!” Endlessly the voices vibrated, making his head throb. He tried to cover his ears, but the voices were still there, inside his head, screaming now. “Be quiet,” he tried to shout, but he didn’t know if he said it out loud or if it only sounded in his head. “Merlin!!!” and his eyes flew open and he saw the blurry face of Gaius hovering above him. More shapes, familiar shapes, appeared: Percival, Gwen. “You’re awake,” he heard and Gaius’ face slowly came into focus. He tried to speak, but no sound came. “Easy now,” he heard a disembodied voice say, far-away. “A bed, I’m lying in a bed,” he thought. “How about a bucket of nice, cold water to wake you up,” said another voice. “Yes please, I’d like some water,” he wanted to say, but again no sound escaped his lips. He opened his eyes again and there was a new face which looked like Arthur. “Arthur,” he croaked and he saw Arthur’s face break out in a smile, and the he saw Gaius and Percival and Gwen smile too. Gwen offered him a beaker and greedily he drank the cool water. Slowly the world came into focus. “What happened?” he managed to say and tried to sit up.