𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗰𝗲𝗿𝘆 ─
❝at the same time, i
wanna hug you, i
wanna wrap my hands
around your neck, ❞
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in which, merlyn, a young sorceress from the small, poor town ealdor moves to a magic hating kingdom to protect her...
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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ─ the great dragon,
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With a thunderous slam, the door to Merlyn and Gaius' chambers was flung open and the two stormed in angrily, their footsteps heavy and their faces sharp with no expression. Merlyn skulked into the room a mere few seconds after Gaius and she shut the wooden door gently, wincing at the small click of the lock that cut right through the thick, tension-filled air.
"How could you be so foolish?" Gaius yelled, slamming down his medical basket onto the nearest table, eyes narrowed with anger.
"He needed to be taught a lesson," retorted Merlyn, throwing her hands up for emphasis.
"Magic must be studied, mastered, and used for good! Not for idiotic pranks," Gaius lectured, his face pulled into deep scowl as the two stared one another down.
"What is there to master?" She asked, frustration taking over and her voice breaking, "I could move objects like that before I could talk."
"Then by now you should know how to control yourself!" Gaius roared without missing a beat and stormed over to Merlyn, so the two were face to face neither backing down.
"I don't want to! If I can't use magic, then what have I got," Merlyn yelped, and feeling the raw emotion crawling up her throat she turned and headed to her chamber door. As a second thought, she spun back around and added. "I'm just a nobody, and I always will be," she sniffed, "if I can't use magic, I might as well die." With that, she pushed her door open and closed it softly behind her before she broke down in sobs.
Sighing, Merlyn pulled her hair from its updo and raked a hand through it and as her glassy eyes stopped watering she threw herself onto her roughly made bed and sat, her head in her hands.
She heard Gaius shuffling in their main chamber before the squeak of her door sounded again. Her head snapped up at the noise, and her eyes glistened when she saw Gaius, his medical basket in hand.
He placed it onto a small, wooden table by her bed, and sat himself down next to his apprentice, "Merlyn." He said, untying the straps on his bag. "Roll your sleeves up."
Pulling her lip into her mouth to naw at anxiously, Merlyn did as she was told and revealed a single, fresh wound inflicted by the flail which wasn't particularly deep but still hemorrhaging blood. Drenching her arm and the sleeve of the fabric. The elder man pulled her arm towards him and dabbed a rolled up bandage doused in alcohol over the wounds.
