Post by Arctura on Jul 24, 2014 20:20:06 GMT
I really would like to say the worst of the obstacles are behind us (Arthur and Merlin almost having died), but I'd be lying. Rest in the thought, however, that you will be granted some reprieve. Things will be a bit peachy for a little while.
Amidst the bleakness of their fate, our heroes find solace in Windermere with someone who can help: the prophetess, Sibyl. With recuperation, our heroes learn about Malus and contemplate their prospects - what will happen when it's all over?
But trust me when I say that things are not as straightforward as they appear...
Amidst the bleakness of their fate, our heroes find solace in Windermere with someone who can help: the prophetess, Sibyl. With recuperation, our heroes learn about Malus and contemplate their prospects - what will happen when it's all over?
But trust me when I say that things are not as straightforward as they appear...
As the World Comes to an End: Part IV
...
Merlin tells Arthur he should return to the cottage and sleep more, but he insists that he’s fine. He’s been asleep for days, after all. He wants to see more of the village.
So the pair spends the day exploring Sybil’s home. Arthur stretches his feet as they walk, noting that while he feels stiff, he feels better than he’s felt since he got back. He wonders briefly if Merlin didn’t use his magic to pour his own energy back into Arthur. But the idea makes him uncomfortable, and so he doesn’t bring it up.
They walk past the center of the village, ignoring the looks they get from the villagers. Everyone seems to want to stare, but as soon as Arthur or Merlin makes eye contact, the villagers look away quickly. Apparently no one wants to talk.
The village lies nestled in the curve of the river. Sybil’s cottage lies to the north of the village proper, next to the “sick cottage” Arthur woke up in. Nearby stands a group of storage sheds where food, fresh water, and other necessities are housed. To the north lies the forest where the men hunt for what food they can find. Along the western edge and much of the southern lie the fields. To the east is the river, along with a good sized orchard and garden. Everything lies close enough to the river that a simple yet effective irrigation system has been set up. The village itself lies on a bit of a hill, and even during the wet months it never floods.
The two walk down past the fields where people labor under the hot sun. The fields stretch along the western border from the woods down to the river’s edge. At the river, they turn to the east, walking past an impressive looking orchard. They follow the river’s edge, turn north, and find a series of gardens.
As they walk, Arthur notices that everyone has a job to do. The older children work the fields with their parents, while some of the younger ones work in the gardens, though they seem to make more of a mess of themselves in the mud and dirt than to be of much help.
Above the gardens, Merlin and Arthur find what appears to be a makeshift daycare. Older villagers – those too old to work the fields – and a few of the older children watch after the littlest ones. The sun is beginning to set behind the fields to the west, and the children swim and play in the river. Merlin and Arthur find a quiet rock at the water’s edge and sit down to watch the sun set.
People begin to finish up their work in the gardens nearby. Villagers come in from the fields and pick up their children, many of whom ask for five more minutes and run back into the water squealing.
Arthur laughs as one particularly feisty little redhead runs away from the boy who must be her older brother, forcing him to chase her to the riverbank. But he can’t help the pain in his heart at the memories of Morgana, when she, too, was just as guileless. In fact, she had remained so for most of her life. Then, Morgana learnt she had magic, became corrupted by her sister’s influence, and began to concentrate her hatred onto one man: Uther Pendragon. And in Morgause’s influence, Morgana was led to naturally conclude that her hatred extended to his son, Arthur. Her beloved brother.
Once her reign started, it all went to hell. Went to hell so fast Arthur never got the chance to reach out to her, his sister, and free her of the enchantment (which surely there was).
The king is gladly brought out of his reverie when he sees the girl taunt her brother from the water, telling him that he’ll never come in to get her. Then he surprises her by flinging himself into the river, clothes and all, and when he catches her he dunks her under, causing her to giggle.
Arthur smiles. He turns to Merlin and finds a similar smile on his face, yet Arthur also notices a strange, faraway look in his eyes. Is he having the same thoughts? Of course not; he never even had siblings.
“Merlin?” Arthur questions.
“Hmm?” Merlin turns to him, but his thoughts are clearly somewhere else.
“What are you thinking about?”
Merlin shakes his head, as though he’s just realized he drifted off. “It’s nothing.”
“You’re a terrible liar. It’s a wonder you were able to keep your magic a secret for so long.”
Merlin quips, “Well, it’s not my fault you were such a cabbagehead.”
Arthur scoffs. “Is that any way to talk to your king?” he asks.
“My apologies. It’s not my fault you were such a cabbagehead, my lord.” Merlin corrects with an exaggerated bow.
Arthur says, chin raised and arms crossed, “Better.”
Merlin drifts off into his thoughts again, and Arthur decides to drop the subject. They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes. Arthur is sure the moment is over, sure that he just doesn’t feel like sharing. And Merlin surprises him.
“I like it here.” He says it bluntly and without shame. “I think I could stay here. After two thousand years of…wandering…never settling in one place for too long…I just want…I want a home, Arthur. A real home. Now that you’re back, Arthur…for the first time in two millennia, I finally feel like it’s possible.”
Arthur takes Merlin’s hand in is, forming a response. He’s touched at the idea that Merlin wants to find a home with him, to build a life together. He’s happy for Merlin and grateful for the second chance at life that he’s been given.
“I’d like that, too. Someday. But, Merlin…we have a job to do. You know that, right? Great evil and all?”
Merlin surprises himself but what he answers. Hours ago, he would’ve complained as he had to Kilgharrah about how they don’t owe the world anything, but oddly, he doesn’t feel that resentful anymore. Maybe it was Sybil’s story, or maybe he’d just come to his senses. He says simply, “Yeah, I know.” The he adds cheekily, “We’ll kick It’s arse and then settle down.”
The king roars with laughter and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Definitely.” And he continues, more serious, “Merlin, just understand that my being here is a gift, Merlin. It’s a debt that I need to repay. And then, well…the real reward is whatever we make it. You and me. Together. But first….”
“One more mission.”
So the pair spends the day exploring Sybil’s home. Arthur stretches his feet as they walk, noting that while he feels stiff, he feels better than he’s felt since he got back. He wonders briefly if Merlin didn’t use his magic to pour his own energy back into Arthur. But the idea makes him uncomfortable, and so he doesn’t bring it up.
They walk past the center of the village, ignoring the looks they get from the villagers. Everyone seems to want to stare, but as soon as Arthur or Merlin makes eye contact, the villagers look away quickly. Apparently no one wants to talk.
The village lies nestled in the curve of the river. Sybil’s cottage lies to the north of the village proper, next to the “sick cottage” Arthur woke up in. Nearby stands a group of storage sheds where food, fresh water, and other necessities are housed. To the north lies the forest where the men hunt for what food they can find. Along the western edge and much of the southern lie the fields. To the east is the river, along with a good sized orchard and garden. Everything lies close enough to the river that a simple yet effective irrigation system has been set up. The village itself lies on a bit of a hill, and even during the wet months it never floods.
The two walk down past the fields where people labor under the hot sun. The fields stretch along the western border from the woods down to the river’s edge. At the river, they turn to the east, walking past an impressive looking orchard. They follow the river’s edge, turn north, and find a series of gardens.
As they walk, Arthur notices that everyone has a job to do. The older children work the fields with their parents, while some of the younger ones work in the gardens, though they seem to make more of a mess of themselves in the mud and dirt than to be of much help.
Above the gardens, Merlin and Arthur find what appears to be a makeshift daycare. Older villagers – those too old to work the fields – and a few of the older children watch after the littlest ones. The sun is beginning to set behind the fields to the west, and the children swim and play in the river. Merlin and Arthur find a quiet rock at the water’s edge and sit down to watch the sun set.
People begin to finish up their work in the gardens nearby. Villagers come in from the fields and pick up their children, many of whom ask for five more minutes and run back into the water squealing.
Arthur laughs as one particularly feisty little redhead runs away from the boy who must be her older brother, forcing him to chase her to the riverbank. But he can’t help the pain in his heart at the memories of Morgana, when she, too, was just as guileless. In fact, she had remained so for most of her life. Then, Morgana learnt she had magic, became corrupted by her sister’s influence, and began to concentrate her hatred onto one man: Uther Pendragon. And in Morgause’s influence, Morgana was led to naturally conclude that her hatred extended to his son, Arthur. Her beloved brother.
Once her reign started, it all went to hell. Went to hell so fast Arthur never got the chance to reach out to her, his sister, and free her of the enchantment (which surely there was).
The king is gladly brought out of his reverie when he sees the girl taunt her brother from the water, telling him that he’ll never come in to get her. Then he surprises her by flinging himself into the river, clothes and all, and when he catches her he dunks her under, causing her to giggle.
Arthur smiles. He turns to Merlin and finds a similar smile on his face, yet Arthur also notices a strange, faraway look in his eyes. Is he having the same thoughts? Of course not; he never even had siblings.
“Merlin?” Arthur questions.
“Hmm?” Merlin turns to him, but his thoughts are clearly somewhere else.
“What are you thinking about?”
Merlin shakes his head, as though he’s just realized he drifted off. “It’s nothing.”
“You’re a terrible liar. It’s a wonder you were able to keep your magic a secret for so long.”
Merlin quips, “Well, it’s not my fault you were such a cabbagehead.”
Arthur scoffs. “Is that any way to talk to your king?” he asks.
“My apologies. It’s not my fault you were such a cabbagehead, my lord.” Merlin corrects with an exaggerated bow.
Arthur says, chin raised and arms crossed, “Better.”
Merlin drifts off into his thoughts again, and Arthur decides to drop the subject. They sit in companionable silence for a few minutes. Arthur is sure the moment is over, sure that he just doesn’t feel like sharing. And Merlin surprises him.
“I like it here.” He says it bluntly and without shame. “I think I could stay here. After two thousand years of…wandering…never settling in one place for too long…I just want…I want a home, Arthur. A real home. Now that you’re back, Arthur…for the first time in two millennia, I finally feel like it’s possible.”
Arthur takes Merlin’s hand in is, forming a response. He’s touched at the idea that Merlin wants to find a home with him, to build a life together. He’s happy for Merlin and grateful for the second chance at life that he’s been given.
“I’d like that, too. Someday. But, Merlin…we have a job to do. You know that, right? Great evil and all?”
Merlin surprises himself but what he answers. Hours ago, he would’ve complained as he had to Kilgharrah about how they don’t owe the world anything, but oddly, he doesn’t feel that resentful anymore. Maybe it was Sybil’s story, or maybe he’d just come to his senses. He says simply, “Yeah, I know.” The he adds cheekily, “We’ll kick It’s arse and then settle down.”
The king roars with laughter and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Definitely.” And he continues, more serious, “Merlin, just understand that my being here is a gift, Merlin. It’s a debt that I need to repay. And then, well…the real reward is whatever we make it. You and me. Together. But first….”
“One more mission.”
...
That night, Sibyl invites them to sit down to dinner with her. Over a meal of carrots, crude yet surprisingly tasty bread, and fresh rabbit, Sibyl tells them everything she knows about Malus.
Most of what she has to say Merlin already knows from his talk with Kilgharrah. How the ancient malevolence was born from the darkness in the world, cast into a deep slumber by the dragons, and spent thousands of years feasting on the evil growing in mankind. How It is a dark magic, evil at heart: a counter to Merlin and everything he stands for.
“Kilgharrah told me to think of it as a dark to my light. That magic, like every element, is made up of a dark side and a light side, and that’s what keeps the world in balance.”
Sibyl nods. “Your dragon friend is right. Malus is a primordial manifestation of the dark side of magic: magic used from greed, ignorance, jealousy. It’s been feeding off the growing darkness in the world for millennia, Merlin. The fourth World War gave It the last bit of strength It needed to crawl Its way back into the world.”
Arthur shudders, and Merlin places a hand gently on his knee. Arthur smiles in gratitude as he speaks. “This is why I was brought back. I know it is. I’m meant to fight this evil. To defeat It. But…how do you fight something like this?” Arthur asks hopelessly.
“You know you won’t be fighting It alone.” Merlin tells him, squeezing his knee.
“He’s right,” Sibyl replies. A small smile lights up her face, and Arthur thinks it’s the first time he’s seen her look hopeful. “You must fight It together. That is why you’ve been brought back, Arthur. You and Merlin must fight this evil, and you must defeat It. Otherwise….”
She trails off, but Arthur doesn’t need to hear her say it. All that’s left of the good in the world will be gone, unless he and Merlin can defeat the greatest evil the world has ever known.
“No pressure,” Merlin says with a half-hearted laugh, and Arthur finds himself feeling slightly better about his predicament.
“Always trying to lighten the mood. That’s one of the things I’ve always loved about you, Merlin.” He leans over and kisses Merlin unexpectedly on the cheek. Arthur can just make out a telltale blush on Merlin’s face by the light of the fire, and he laughs.
After a moment’s pause to collect himself, Merlin finally asks the important question: “So…do you know how we defeat It?”
Sibyl nods. “I do, though I didn’t have the answer until the night you arrived here. That night I had a dream. I didn’t see the final outcome, but I know what you need to do.” Sibyl turns to Merlin and smiles knowingly. “You remember the gryphon you helped Lancelot defeat all those years ago?”
Merlin grins. “Even after all this time, how could I forget?”
Puzzled, Arthur asks, “Lancelot defeated that gryphon?”
“Of course, Arthur, but that’s not important right now. I enchanted his sword. It was the combination of my magic and his strength that killed the monster.”
“Yes,” Sibyl agrees. “Your magic, his courage. Both working together. That’s what defeated it, and that’s what will work this time. Your magic…and Excalibur. The sword of the Once and Future King, forged in a dragon’s breath, combined with the power of Emrys’ magic, is the only thing that can kill Malus.”
Arthur feels his heart lift just a little bit. “That’s it? Merlin must enchant the sword and then I…stab It?”
Sibyl nods simply, waiting to deliver the bad news.
Merlin asks for it. “But how do we find Malus?”
“That is where the trouble lies. There’s no way we can know for sure just where It will be at any given time. We need to find a way to pinpoint where It will be, or find a way to get It where we want It." The dismal air settles in as quickly as it left.
“So we’re back to the beginning.” The warlock cannot help but feel dejected and a bit frustrated. It took them weeks to get to Windermere and their plan was essentially to wing it. Where is his centuries’ worth of experience now?
The young prophetess smiles gently and reaches over the fire carefully, placing her hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Don’t lose faith, Emrys. Over the years I’ve learned to trust my instincts. I have a good feeling about this. Now that Arthur is back, between the two of you-”
“We can do anything,” Arthur finishes proudly.
Merlin welcomes the attempt at restoring morale, even if he isn’t entirely convinced (because neither is Arthur). “You’re right.”
“Of course I am, Merlin,” Arthur says so seriously it’s laughable, “I’m the Once and Future King.”
Shaking with mirth, Merlin swats him on the arm. “You’re letting that epithet go to your head, sire.”
Arthur laughs. “Epi-what? You know, Merlin, big words aren’t for servants.”
Merlin counters, “Well, maybe if you had read more…” His grin is absolutely devilish and practically asks for the knuckling to the head he receives seconds later.
Sibyl shakes her head, laughing herself. Then, she tells the pair dotingly, “Let me worry about how we’ll find Malus. For now, you two should rest. You’ll be no use against It in your current states.”
“No, we won’t,” Merlin agrees. He stands up, and with his hand still wrapped firmly in Arthur’s, he pulls him up, too. Arthur accepts the help, sighing once he’s on his feet. He hasn’t realized just how exhausted he really is. Maybe he does need a bit of rest. “It’s late, and I’m tired. Do you have somewhere we can both sleep?” Merlin asks Sibyl.
“I think I can find something.”
...
Sibyl sets them up in the small storage shed next to the infirmary cabin. She and Merlin empty the shed, moving the supplies into Sibyl’s cabin and a corner of the infirmary. It leaves Merlin and Arthur with a decently sized cozy space - slightly smaller than Merlin’s hut.
Arthur promises they will only stay for a week at the most; just long enough for him and Merlin to regain their strength. A week goes by, and Merlin insists that Arthur still isn’t well enough. The energy that Merlin took from Arthur seems to have restored Merlin to good health, and he rests with Arthur for a few days before deciding that he needs to help out in the village.
“I need to earn our keep, Arthur, and you need your rest.”
The king doesn’t really have the energy to argue with him. More than that, Arthur has begun to accept that Merlin isn’t a complete idiot, and that he can be right about certain things. So he sets aside his royal pride and does as Merlin asks.
Merlin hunts with the villagers, tends the fields, and works in the gardens and the orchard. He does everything without magic, though not for the same pure reasons as when he was a manservant (“C’mon, Merlin, you can do it. Hard work builds character.”) Well, that and and the fear of execution had hung over his head like an axe. Or nicely kindled flames.
While he will not be killed on the spot, and he has finally let himself guiltlessly expedite labor with magic, the people of the village have recently begun to accept Sibyl’s prophecy; he’s not sure how they will take to a direct use of magic. In fact, Merlin may have decided too soon. Uther Pendragon is long dead, but it may just become Salem all over again.
Two weeks go by, and Merlin decides the aren’t yet ready to leave. “We still have no idea how to find Malus,” Merlin argues, “Kilgharrah said that Sibyl would have the answers. We just have to hope she’ll find a way.”
Arthur begins to help in the village when Merlin finally deems him well enough (“Who are you, Merlin? Gaius?”). He helps with the hunting at first because that’s naturally where he excels. But then one day he decides to help Merlin in the fields. The next day they help in the garden, and the next in the orchard.
He talks to the villagers as they work, getting to know what he can about them and the home they have built for themselves. The people warm to him quickly, and it makes Merlin smile. One day, Arthur explains why he feels the need to help out everywhere he can.
“I want to see as much of the village as possible, Merlin. I want to see how the people live, how they survive. I want to help them. I want to get to know them better. I just…I feel like it’s the right thing to do.”
Merlin surprises him with a kiss so intense Arthur’s afraid his knees will give out. Arthur raises a Gaius-like eyebrow when they pull apart.
The delighted warlock answers, “That’s what makes you the Once and Future King, Arthur. You don’t even have a kingdom anymore, yet you’re still acting like a king.”
“I don’t understand,” Arthur says.
“Getting to know the people, trying to help them in any way you can. That’s what made you a great king, Arthur. It’s also what makes you a great man. And it’s what I…well, it’s what I love the most about you.”
Then Arthur surprises Merlin with a kiss of his own.
...
One day, Merlin asks if they can work at the daycare. Arthur’s never been very comfortable with children, but he can tell from the look on Merlin’s face that this means a lot to him, and he agrees.
So used to seeing a Merlin who never knew when to shut up, he found it strange to see him so quiet with the villagers. It’s in the daycare that Merlin finally begins to blossom. He bonds with the children in a way he can’t seem to bond with the adults.
One day, Arthur wakes to find Merlin already gone from their bed. He heads to the daycare, and his heart leaps in his chest at the sight that greets him. Merlin’s juggling three rocks in the air…without touching them. It’s the first time Merlin’s used his magic since they arrived in the village two weeks ago, and Arthur smiles as he walks over to join him.
That morning, Merlin shows the children small bits of his magic. He makes objects float and disappear. He makes flowers grow. Then he creates small blue butterflies out of nothing, and it’s Arthur’s favorite trick, because the way Merlin’s face lights up when he does it makes Arthur’s heart flutter happily, like he’s a boy with a crush all over again.
As they head back to their small hut to eat, the warlock explains how he finally found the courage to show his magic. “I have Sibyl to thank,” Merlin says gratefully, “I’ve found it a bit…hard to open up to the people here.”
“I noticed,” Arthur replies.
“The past 2,000 years…let’s just say I’ve been through a lot, Arthur. Seen a lot.”
“You know you aren’t obliged to explain anything you don’t want to.”
“Of course. I know that,” Merlin says, “I’ve..spent so much of the last 200 years alone. Since the end of the war. It’s just…I’m finding it hard to be around people again.”
Arthur nods in understanding. He puts his other hand on Merlin’s back and leads him to the shade of a big tree. They sit at its base, their backs against the trunk.
“Sibyl suggested I check out the daycare. She knows how I was with the children in Ealdor and the citadel and thought maybe it would be good for me. And you know…she was right. I found it easier to talk to the children. They don’t expect anything from me, and I never feel like…I’m sorry. It’s hard to explain,” Merlin explains, slightly regretful.
“Merlin…I can’t begin to understand what you’re going through. Living through what you have, seeing the things you’ve seen. Just…living. For so long. It would take its toll on anyone. I’m still only 26,” Arthur admits, and then jokes, “As hard as it is to fathom, you’re the old man here.”
Merlin gives a small laughs. He is, isn’t he? “The magic helps, Arthur,” he responds with a smile. “Just…being able to use it in front of people, even if it’s just the children. Sibyl came by the daycare this morning and told them everything. About you, about me. About our mission to destroy Malus. The children look up to her, trust her, in a way that the adults never really have. Her visions seem like magic to them, and she thought that they’d like to see real magic.”
Arthur remembers the looks of awe and wonder on the children’s faces. The flowers blooming around them and the blue butterflies flying on the breeze. The look of pure joy on Merlin’s face.
He leans over and kisses Merlin gently on top of his head. “I haven’t seen you so happy since I got back,” Arthur says fondly, “I like it.”
“So do I.”
...
Merlin continues to help out in the daycare. While Arthur would like nothing more than to spend time with him, but he just can’t bond with the children the way Merlin does. He’d be more than glad to show them some techniques of the sword, but he sincerely doubts their parents would appreciate the gesture. Instead, Arthur spends his days in the woods, the fields, or the gardens. As the sun sets, he heads to the daycare to find his warlock.
Another week goes by, faster than either of them would like. Every night Arthur asks Sibyl if she has seen where Malus is, and every night Sibyl shakes her head. She hasn’t had any visions about Malus since they’ve arrived. Until she does, they must situate themselves in normalcy, try to make the most of their time together.
Unsurprisingly, Merlin becomes particularly attached to a child in the daycare - a young boy named Adrian Braddock. At Merlin’s insistence, Arthur gets to know the boy. He’s smart, good at talking to people and getting what he wants. He’s generous and caring, and a natural born leader. He’s also the son of the Head Elder of the village.
One night, Merlin tries to explain why he’s so attached to Adrian. “To be honest, he reminds me a lot of you, Arthur.”
“So, fierce, honorable, brave, and compassionate?”
“Mhm. You without being a prat.” That remark earns a punch in the arm.
For a little while, the two sit peacefully, nursing cups of tea and revelling in the domesticity of their situation. Then Merlin pipes up. “I’ve been thinking-”
“That’s never good.”
“About how you interact with the villagers. Malus isn’t the only reason you’re back.”
“What do you mean?” Arthur asks, but he already knows the answer. It’s something he’s wanted to discuss with Merlin, but with all the talk about settling down after defeating Malus, he hadn’t wanted to bring it up.
“You want to help this village, Arthur,” Merlin says matter-of-factly, “You want to lead these people. You want to rebuild. And not just here. You want to help the country. Join the villages together. Help the world start over.”
“Merlin.” Arthur says his name in disbelief. “How do you know all of that? I haven’t-”
The man snorts. “As if you have to say anything, Arthur. It’s obvious in everything you do. Being a king, being a leader, it’s in your blood, Arthur. You are a Pendragon. Leading is what your father has done and what you’ve been taught to do your whole life. I know you better than I’ve ever known anyone, better than I know myself, and I’ve had to live with me for two thousand years.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure even I could put up with you for that long.”
“Likewise, Arthur; you’re such a dollophead.” Merlin gets back on point. “Anyways, I know you want to help the world. And I want to help you with that. I do. But I also want….”
Arthur shifts on the bed so he’s facing Merlin. “You’re right, Merlin. I want to try and fix things. The world’s just so…broken right now. I want to try and set it right. After all, I am no stranger to war, though the world wars you’ve talked about are infinitely bloodier.” The king grimaces and continues, “But I also want to be with you. Settle down somewhere.”
“Well...we can - will - have both.” Merlin says, unexpectedly forceful and self-assured.
Arthur shrugs, as if it’ll be the easiest task. “Okay. We’ll rebuild the world, and then we’ll build our own world.”
...
One day, as they are diligently working the fields together, Arthur asks Merlin to tell him more stories about the world he has missed. Merlin tells him a story about how he met Leonardo da Vinci, one of history’s most celebrated polymaths, and became one of his closest friends. The name doesn’t mean anything to Arthur, but he listens intently. When Merlin talks about da Vinci’s astronomical discoveries, he gets an idea.
When it becomes nightfall, they return to their home. Merlin lays a gentle hand on Arthur’s forehead and shows him what it was like to fly among the stars. Behind closed eyes, Arthur sees the vastness of space, the dark stretching on forever, and he’s afraid he might drown in it, the vision is so vivid. But then he sees the stars; millions of tiny pricks of light shining in the black, and the loneliness starts to fade. He sees the moon up close, astonished to find that it really is a giant rock, covered in canyons, that doesn’t give off a light of its own, but rather reflects the light of the sun, the giant bright star closer than the rest.
The scene changes, and he manages to catch a glimpse of the planet Merlin called Mars before the sight fades and he’s back in their tiny cabin.
Arthur stares at him, mouth agape.
Satisfied, Merlin says, “Glad you liked it. And Arthur, close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” He finishes with a smug smile.
All Arthur can say is “My word."
...
Over the next two weeks, Merlin takes time every night to show Arthur visions of his past. It seems the most effective way for Arthur to experience history. Merlin mentions that he got the idea from one of his favorite books from the 20th century, The Giver. However, he doesn’t project physical feelings like the Giver did (though he can).
He explains that it’s more like watching a television - a device that broadcasts images - only the images are broadcast straight into Arthur’s head. He can see for himself anything Merlin wants to show him. In this way, Arthur sees Merlin’s past through his own eyes.
The warlock only shows him happy memories at first. Seeing the first Shakespeare play performed in The Globe, Martin Luther King giving his “I Have a Dream” speech, the first openly gay US President signing the bill to make same sex marriage legal in all 52 states.
Arthur likes watching the world grow and change, seeing mankind evolve in ways he never could have dreamed of. But as much as he enjoys it, Arthur’s still curious about how the world fell apart. One night, he asks Merlin to show him, but the other man is expectedly hesitant at first, but he understands that Arthur needs to know.
Seeing all the good in the world, Arthur can’t quite understand how everything could go so wrong. So Merlin shows him the bad things. War, homelessness, disease. But he never shows him a lot at once.
The king sees bombs fall, hears children cry and women scream, watches cities burn and people run in terror, not knowing what to do or where to go.
It’s the last time Arthur asks for a vision of the past. And Merlin never offers again.
...
Two nights after showing Arthur visions of the past, Merlin starts having new ones. Of the present or of the future, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that they come in the form of nightmares. And he is always a bystander, an objective viewer to the scenes - never able to intervene.
On the first night, he sees an entire town in the middle of the Rocky Mountains, thousands of miles away in the United States. One of the very first safe places that was settled in the US during the last World War. A town called Salvation.
Swallowed by the earth.
Completely destroyed.
Two thousand people gone. All it took was five minutes and an earthquake to rival any the world had ever seen.
Five minutes. Two thousand people gone, their lives snuffed out, their light gone from the world.
Merlin stands on a mountaintop, unable to move and forced to watch the ground convulse and the town fall into its fissure. Hears the cries of despair and sadness and pain. So much pain.
Five minutes.
When it’s over, Merlin hears a faint laughter coming from the earth where Salvation once stood. It grows in intensity, until Merlin can feel the mountain itself trembling beneath his feet. He hears the deep, malevolent laughter echo around him, so strong he can feel it vibrating in his bones and boiling his blood in his veins.
It’s the most terrible sound he’s ever heard in his life, and though he’s never done so before he finds himself praying, praying that this will be the last time he has to hear the sound of the triumph of pure evil.
...
It’s Malus. Merlin knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that It’s responsible for the devastation in Salvation. He tells Arthur and Sibyl what happened in the vision. How he knows that Malus opened up the earth and swallowed two thousand souls without batting an eye. How It knew Merlin was watching. It was obviously a show of strength. Malus wanted Merlin to know what It was capable of, what lengths It could go to to destroy the world Merlin holds so dear.
“It knows you’re Its greatest threat, Merlin,” Sibyl tells him. “It knows you’re the only one with any hope of stopping It.”
“It’s taunting you,” Arthur states, gripping Merlin’s hand tighter. “It wants you to act rashly, to come out and fight it before you’re ready.”
“Well, it’s working,” Merlin replies bitterly. “I have to face It, Arthur. It just killed two thousand people because It could. Because it was trying to prove a point. I have to stop it.”
“We have to stop it. Remember?” Arthur asks. “But we can’t delve into this without some kind of plan, Merlin. It’s mad.”
Sibyl interjects, “Arthur’s right. We need to know how to defeat It. And we also need to find a way to track it down, some way to meet with It, or talk to It. So far the only communication we’ve had with It is….” She trails off, and no one really needs her to finish the sentence; truthfully, no one really wants her to.
In the end, Merlin says it, because when has Merlin ever been good at keeping his mouth shut?
“In my dreams. I’ll have to speak with It...when I’m asleep.”
...
Merlin wants to try right away, but Arthur puts his foot down. He needs to relax, spend a day at the lake, or under the trees in the orchard, anything. In the end, Merlin agrees, but only because he knows he’s too stressed to sleep right now.
So Arthur takes Merlin on a real date, ignoring the prodding pains in his chest, a reminder of when he was a prince and would secretly court Guinevere. He takes him on a short walk through the orchard. They sit in their favorite spot and have a picnic, eating apples right off the tree for dessert.
After lunch they wander into a quiet part of the fields, where the crops grow tall but aren’t ready for harvesting yet. They sit in the bright afternoon sun and talk about nothing. They end up making love between the rows of corn, not caring who might happen by (in fact, it made it all the more enjoyable).
They head to the lakeside and watch the sun set. They start an impromptu campfire at the water’s edge and half the village comes to join them. They eat and drink and Merlin even graces them with a song in Old English that makes Arthur’s yearn for a time long gone.
As it gets dark, Merlin marvels at the fact that for just one day, one glorious day, Arthur made him forget about his destiny.
...
That night, Merlin watches an entire community buried deep in the jungles of South America destroy itself. The people in one village - men, women, and children alike - split into two groups with no discernable differences and then turn against each other. They fight to the death until one side is left standing. The elderly, the infants, and the very young all lie dead as the survivors trek through the jungles to a neighboring village.
The village welcomes them, as they always have. Then the fighting starts all over again.
In the end, ten villages that used to defend and care for each other lie in ruins. No one knows who they’re fighting, or why. It’s kill or be killed. Alliances are formed and disbanded, sometimes within the span of minutes.
Merlin watches the villagers destroy one another. And when the fighting is over, the survivors left standing throw themselves over a cliff in anguish at the horror they’ve wrought. Merlin knows there’s nothing he can do, and he watches helplessly.
The last villager left, a young boy who can’t be more than twelve years old, turns to Merlin and begs for forgiveness. Merlin opens his mouth to give it, but finds that he can’t. The boy turns from him with a sob and throws himself over the cliff.
Merlin screams at the top of his lungs.
The sound of dark, deep laughter rises over the edge of the cliff as if in answer.
“Show yourself, you coward!” The laughter only increases. “Face me!” Merlin yells, anger rising in him. His magic flows through him hard and fast, and he senses when his eyes glow gold. “Tell me where I can find you.
“Not here.” It’s a whisper on the wind, so quiet he can barely hear it.
“Why not?”
“It is not strong enough here.”
The whisper is louder this time, and Merlin recognizes that it’s just behind him. He turns to find the boy who he just watched jump off the cliff. Merlin flinches in horror at the sight of the boy standing there, his neck and back bent at horrible angles.
“Where…where can I find It?” Merlin asks, unable to keep the fear from his voice.
“The seer. She is the only one who has the power to commune with It. It needs a physical body to speak, and I am nothing more than a memory.”
“Sibyl. She…she’ll know what to do?”
“She will. Even now, It is showing her what needs to be done.”
Merlin nods. Without warning, he feels the dream slipping away. As the jungle blurs around him, he looks toward the boy.
“In sibbe gerest,” Merlin whispers.
Just for a second, the boy stands before him as he did before he jumped, and he smiles. Merlin wants to stay, but he can’t. The world slips away, but not before he hears: “Thank you, Emrys.”
Most of what she has to say Merlin already knows from his talk with Kilgharrah. How the ancient malevolence was born from the darkness in the world, cast into a deep slumber by the dragons, and spent thousands of years feasting on the evil growing in mankind. How It is a dark magic, evil at heart: a counter to Merlin and everything he stands for.
“Kilgharrah told me to think of it as a dark to my light. That magic, like every element, is made up of a dark side and a light side, and that’s what keeps the world in balance.”
Sibyl nods. “Your dragon friend is right. Malus is a primordial manifestation of the dark side of magic: magic used from greed, ignorance, jealousy. It’s been feeding off the growing darkness in the world for millennia, Merlin. The fourth World War gave It the last bit of strength It needed to crawl Its way back into the world.”
Arthur shudders, and Merlin places a hand gently on his knee. Arthur smiles in gratitude as he speaks. “This is why I was brought back. I know it is. I’m meant to fight this evil. To defeat It. But…how do you fight something like this?” Arthur asks hopelessly.
“You know you won’t be fighting It alone.” Merlin tells him, squeezing his knee.
“He’s right,” Sibyl replies. A small smile lights up her face, and Arthur thinks it’s the first time he’s seen her look hopeful. “You must fight It together. That is why you’ve been brought back, Arthur. You and Merlin must fight this evil, and you must defeat It. Otherwise….”
She trails off, but Arthur doesn’t need to hear her say it. All that’s left of the good in the world will be gone, unless he and Merlin can defeat the greatest evil the world has ever known.
“No pressure,” Merlin says with a half-hearted laugh, and Arthur finds himself feeling slightly better about his predicament.
“Always trying to lighten the mood. That’s one of the things I’ve always loved about you, Merlin.” He leans over and kisses Merlin unexpectedly on the cheek. Arthur can just make out a telltale blush on Merlin’s face by the light of the fire, and he laughs.
After a moment’s pause to collect himself, Merlin finally asks the important question: “So…do you know how we defeat It?”
Sibyl nods. “I do, though I didn’t have the answer until the night you arrived here. That night I had a dream. I didn’t see the final outcome, but I know what you need to do.” Sibyl turns to Merlin and smiles knowingly. “You remember the gryphon you helped Lancelot defeat all those years ago?”
Merlin grins. “Even after all this time, how could I forget?”
Puzzled, Arthur asks, “Lancelot defeated that gryphon?”
“Of course, Arthur, but that’s not important right now. I enchanted his sword. It was the combination of my magic and his strength that killed the monster.”
“Yes,” Sibyl agrees. “Your magic, his courage. Both working together. That’s what defeated it, and that’s what will work this time. Your magic…and Excalibur. The sword of the Once and Future King, forged in a dragon’s breath, combined with the power of Emrys’ magic, is the only thing that can kill Malus.”
Arthur feels his heart lift just a little bit. “That’s it? Merlin must enchant the sword and then I…stab It?”
Sibyl nods simply, waiting to deliver the bad news.
Merlin asks for it. “But how do we find Malus?”
“That is where the trouble lies. There’s no way we can know for sure just where It will be at any given time. We need to find a way to pinpoint where It will be, or find a way to get It where we want It." The dismal air settles in as quickly as it left.
“So we’re back to the beginning.” The warlock cannot help but feel dejected and a bit frustrated. It took them weeks to get to Windermere and their plan was essentially to wing it. Where is his centuries’ worth of experience now?
The young prophetess smiles gently and reaches over the fire carefully, placing her hand on Merlin’s shoulder. “Don’t lose faith, Emrys. Over the years I’ve learned to trust my instincts. I have a good feeling about this. Now that Arthur is back, between the two of you-”
“We can do anything,” Arthur finishes proudly.
Merlin welcomes the attempt at restoring morale, even if he isn’t entirely convinced (because neither is Arthur). “You’re right.”
“Of course I am, Merlin,” Arthur says so seriously it’s laughable, “I’m the Once and Future King.”
Shaking with mirth, Merlin swats him on the arm. “You’re letting that epithet go to your head, sire.”
Arthur laughs. “Epi-what? You know, Merlin, big words aren’t for servants.”
Merlin counters, “Well, maybe if you had read more…” His grin is absolutely devilish and practically asks for the knuckling to the head he receives seconds later.
Sibyl shakes her head, laughing herself. Then, she tells the pair dotingly, “Let me worry about how we’ll find Malus. For now, you two should rest. You’ll be no use against It in your current states.”
“No, we won’t,” Merlin agrees. He stands up, and with his hand still wrapped firmly in Arthur’s, he pulls him up, too. Arthur accepts the help, sighing once he’s on his feet. He hasn’t realized just how exhausted he really is. Maybe he does need a bit of rest. “It’s late, and I’m tired. Do you have somewhere we can both sleep?” Merlin asks Sibyl.
“I think I can find something.”
...
Sibyl sets them up in the small storage shed next to the infirmary cabin. She and Merlin empty the shed, moving the supplies into Sibyl’s cabin and a corner of the infirmary. It leaves Merlin and Arthur with a decently sized cozy space - slightly smaller than Merlin’s hut.
Arthur promises they will only stay for a week at the most; just long enough for him and Merlin to regain their strength. A week goes by, and Merlin insists that Arthur still isn’t well enough. The energy that Merlin took from Arthur seems to have restored Merlin to good health, and he rests with Arthur for a few days before deciding that he needs to help out in the village.
“I need to earn our keep, Arthur, and you need your rest.”
The king doesn’t really have the energy to argue with him. More than that, Arthur has begun to accept that Merlin isn’t a complete idiot, and that he can be right about certain things. So he sets aside his royal pride and does as Merlin asks.
Merlin hunts with the villagers, tends the fields, and works in the gardens and the orchard. He does everything without magic, though not for the same pure reasons as when he was a manservant (“C’mon, Merlin, you can do it. Hard work builds character.”) Well, that and and the fear of execution had hung over his head like an axe. Or nicely kindled flames.
While he will not be killed on the spot, and he has finally let himself guiltlessly expedite labor with magic, the people of the village have recently begun to accept Sibyl’s prophecy; he’s not sure how they will take to a direct use of magic. In fact, Merlin may have decided too soon. Uther Pendragon is long dead, but it may just become Salem all over again.
Two weeks go by, and Merlin decides the aren’t yet ready to leave. “We still have no idea how to find Malus,” Merlin argues, “Kilgharrah said that Sibyl would have the answers. We just have to hope she’ll find a way.”
Arthur begins to help in the village when Merlin finally deems him well enough (“Who are you, Merlin? Gaius?”). He helps with the hunting at first because that’s naturally where he excels. But then one day he decides to help Merlin in the fields. The next day they help in the garden, and the next in the orchard.
He talks to the villagers as they work, getting to know what he can about them and the home they have built for themselves. The people warm to him quickly, and it makes Merlin smile. One day, Arthur explains why he feels the need to help out everywhere he can.
“I want to see as much of the village as possible, Merlin. I want to see how the people live, how they survive. I want to help them. I want to get to know them better. I just…I feel like it’s the right thing to do.”
Merlin surprises him with a kiss so intense Arthur’s afraid his knees will give out. Arthur raises a Gaius-like eyebrow when they pull apart.
The delighted warlock answers, “That’s what makes you the Once and Future King, Arthur. You don’t even have a kingdom anymore, yet you’re still acting like a king.”
“I don’t understand,” Arthur says.
“Getting to know the people, trying to help them in any way you can. That’s what made you a great king, Arthur. It’s also what makes you a great man. And it’s what I…well, it’s what I love the most about you.”
Then Arthur surprises Merlin with a kiss of his own.
...
One day, Merlin asks if they can work at the daycare. Arthur’s never been very comfortable with children, but he can tell from the look on Merlin’s face that this means a lot to him, and he agrees.
So used to seeing a Merlin who never knew when to shut up, he found it strange to see him so quiet with the villagers. It’s in the daycare that Merlin finally begins to blossom. He bonds with the children in a way he can’t seem to bond with the adults.
One day, Arthur wakes to find Merlin already gone from their bed. He heads to the daycare, and his heart leaps in his chest at the sight that greets him. Merlin’s juggling three rocks in the air…without touching them. It’s the first time Merlin’s used his magic since they arrived in the village two weeks ago, and Arthur smiles as he walks over to join him.
That morning, Merlin shows the children small bits of his magic. He makes objects float and disappear. He makes flowers grow. Then he creates small blue butterflies out of nothing, and it’s Arthur’s favorite trick, because the way Merlin’s face lights up when he does it makes Arthur’s heart flutter happily, like he’s a boy with a crush all over again.
As they head back to their small hut to eat, the warlock explains how he finally found the courage to show his magic. “I have Sibyl to thank,” Merlin says gratefully, “I’ve found it a bit…hard to open up to the people here.”
“I noticed,” Arthur replies.
“The past 2,000 years…let’s just say I’ve been through a lot, Arthur. Seen a lot.”
“You know you aren’t obliged to explain anything you don’t want to.”
“Of course. I know that,” Merlin says, “I’ve..spent so much of the last 200 years alone. Since the end of the war. It’s just…I’m finding it hard to be around people again.”
Arthur nods in understanding. He puts his other hand on Merlin’s back and leads him to the shade of a big tree. They sit at its base, their backs against the trunk.
“Sibyl suggested I check out the daycare. She knows how I was with the children in Ealdor and the citadel and thought maybe it would be good for me. And you know…she was right. I found it easier to talk to the children. They don’t expect anything from me, and I never feel like…I’m sorry. It’s hard to explain,” Merlin explains, slightly regretful.
“Merlin…I can’t begin to understand what you’re going through. Living through what you have, seeing the things you’ve seen. Just…living. For so long. It would take its toll on anyone. I’m still only 26,” Arthur admits, and then jokes, “As hard as it is to fathom, you’re the old man here.”
Merlin gives a small laughs. He is, isn’t he? “The magic helps, Arthur,” he responds with a smile. “Just…being able to use it in front of people, even if it’s just the children. Sibyl came by the daycare this morning and told them everything. About you, about me. About our mission to destroy Malus. The children look up to her, trust her, in a way that the adults never really have. Her visions seem like magic to them, and she thought that they’d like to see real magic.”
Arthur remembers the looks of awe and wonder on the children’s faces. The flowers blooming around them and the blue butterflies flying on the breeze. The look of pure joy on Merlin’s face.
He leans over and kisses Merlin gently on top of his head. “I haven’t seen you so happy since I got back,” Arthur says fondly, “I like it.”
“So do I.”
...
Merlin continues to help out in the daycare. While Arthur would like nothing more than to spend time with him, but he just can’t bond with the children the way Merlin does. He’d be more than glad to show them some techniques of the sword, but he sincerely doubts their parents would appreciate the gesture. Instead, Arthur spends his days in the woods, the fields, or the gardens. As the sun sets, he heads to the daycare to find his warlock.
Another week goes by, faster than either of them would like. Every night Arthur asks Sibyl if she has seen where Malus is, and every night Sibyl shakes her head. She hasn’t had any visions about Malus since they’ve arrived. Until she does, they must situate themselves in normalcy, try to make the most of their time together.
Unsurprisingly, Merlin becomes particularly attached to a child in the daycare - a young boy named Adrian Braddock. At Merlin’s insistence, Arthur gets to know the boy. He’s smart, good at talking to people and getting what he wants. He’s generous and caring, and a natural born leader. He’s also the son of the Head Elder of the village.
One night, Merlin tries to explain why he’s so attached to Adrian. “To be honest, he reminds me a lot of you, Arthur.”
“So, fierce, honorable, brave, and compassionate?”
“Mhm. You without being a prat.” That remark earns a punch in the arm.
For a little while, the two sit peacefully, nursing cups of tea and revelling in the domesticity of their situation. Then Merlin pipes up. “I’ve been thinking-”
“That’s never good.”
“About how you interact with the villagers. Malus isn’t the only reason you’re back.”
“What do you mean?” Arthur asks, but he already knows the answer. It’s something he’s wanted to discuss with Merlin, but with all the talk about settling down after defeating Malus, he hadn’t wanted to bring it up.
“You want to help this village, Arthur,” Merlin says matter-of-factly, “You want to lead these people. You want to rebuild. And not just here. You want to help the country. Join the villages together. Help the world start over.”
“Merlin.” Arthur says his name in disbelief. “How do you know all of that? I haven’t-”
The man snorts. “As if you have to say anything, Arthur. It’s obvious in everything you do. Being a king, being a leader, it’s in your blood, Arthur. You are a Pendragon. Leading is what your father has done and what you’ve been taught to do your whole life. I know you better than I’ve ever known anyone, better than I know myself, and I’ve had to live with me for two thousand years.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure even I could put up with you for that long.”
“Likewise, Arthur; you’re such a dollophead.” Merlin gets back on point. “Anyways, I know you want to help the world. And I want to help you with that. I do. But I also want….”
Arthur shifts on the bed so he’s facing Merlin. “You’re right, Merlin. I want to try and fix things. The world’s just so…broken right now. I want to try and set it right. After all, I am no stranger to war, though the world wars you’ve talked about are infinitely bloodier.” The king grimaces and continues, “But I also want to be with you. Settle down somewhere.”
“Well...we can - will - have both.” Merlin says, unexpectedly forceful and self-assured.
Arthur shrugs, as if it’ll be the easiest task. “Okay. We’ll rebuild the world, and then we’ll build our own world.”
...
One day, as they are diligently working the fields together, Arthur asks Merlin to tell him more stories about the world he has missed. Merlin tells him a story about how he met Leonardo da Vinci, one of history’s most celebrated polymaths, and became one of his closest friends. The name doesn’t mean anything to Arthur, but he listens intently. When Merlin talks about da Vinci’s astronomical discoveries, he gets an idea.
When it becomes nightfall, they return to their home. Merlin lays a gentle hand on Arthur’s forehead and shows him what it was like to fly among the stars. Behind closed eyes, Arthur sees the vastness of space, the dark stretching on forever, and he’s afraid he might drown in it, the vision is so vivid. But then he sees the stars; millions of tiny pricks of light shining in the black, and the loneliness starts to fade. He sees the moon up close, astonished to find that it really is a giant rock, covered in canyons, that doesn’t give off a light of its own, but rather reflects the light of the sun, the giant bright star closer than the rest.
The scene changes, and he manages to catch a glimpse of the planet Merlin called Mars before the sight fades and he’s back in their tiny cabin.
Arthur stares at him, mouth agape.
Satisfied, Merlin says, “Glad you liked it. And Arthur, close your mouth or you’ll catch flies.” He finishes with a smug smile.
All Arthur can say is “My word."
...
Over the next two weeks, Merlin takes time every night to show Arthur visions of his past. It seems the most effective way for Arthur to experience history. Merlin mentions that he got the idea from one of his favorite books from the 20th century, The Giver. However, he doesn’t project physical feelings like the Giver did (though he can).
He explains that it’s more like watching a television - a device that broadcasts images - only the images are broadcast straight into Arthur’s head. He can see for himself anything Merlin wants to show him. In this way, Arthur sees Merlin’s past through his own eyes.
The warlock only shows him happy memories at first. Seeing the first Shakespeare play performed in The Globe, Martin Luther King giving his “I Have a Dream” speech, the first openly gay US President signing the bill to make same sex marriage legal in all 52 states.
Arthur likes watching the world grow and change, seeing mankind evolve in ways he never could have dreamed of. But as much as he enjoys it, Arthur’s still curious about how the world fell apart. One night, he asks Merlin to show him, but the other man is expectedly hesitant at first, but he understands that Arthur needs to know.
Seeing all the good in the world, Arthur can’t quite understand how everything could go so wrong. So Merlin shows him the bad things. War, homelessness, disease. But he never shows him a lot at once.
The king sees bombs fall, hears children cry and women scream, watches cities burn and people run in terror, not knowing what to do or where to go.
It’s the last time Arthur asks for a vision of the past. And Merlin never offers again.
...
Two nights after showing Arthur visions of the past, Merlin starts having new ones. Of the present or of the future, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that they come in the form of nightmares. And he is always a bystander, an objective viewer to the scenes - never able to intervene.
On the first night, he sees an entire town in the middle of the Rocky Mountains, thousands of miles away in the United States. One of the very first safe places that was settled in the US during the last World War. A town called Salvation.
Swallowed by the earth.
Completely destroyed.
Two thousand people gone. All it took was five minutes and an earthquake to rival any the world had ever seen.
Five minutes. Two thousand people gone, their lives snuffed out, their light gone from the world.
Merlin stands on a mountaintop, unable to move and forced to watch the ground convulse and the town fall into its fissure. Hears the cries of despair and sadness and pain. So much pain.
Five minutes.
When it’s over, Merlin hears a faint laughter coming from the earth where Salvation once stood. It grows in intensity, until Merlin can feel the mountain itself trembling beneath his feet. He hears the deep, malevolent laughter echo around him, so strong he can feel it vibrating in his bones and boiling his blood in his veins.
It’s the most terrible sound he’s ever heard in his life, and though he’s never done so before he finds himself praying, praying that this will be the last time he has to hear the sound of the triumph of pure evil.
...
It’s Malus. Merlin knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that It’s responsible for the devastation in Salvation. He tells Arthur and Sibyl what happened in the vision. How he knows that Malus opened up the earth and swallowed two thousand souls without batting an eye. How It knew Merlin was watching. It was obviously a show of strength. Malus wanted Merlin to know what It was capable of, what lengths It could go to to destroy the world Merlin holds so dear.
“It knows you’re Its greatest threat, Merlin,” Sibyl tells him. “It knows you’re the only one with any hope of stopping It.”
“It’s taunting you,” Arthur states, gripping Merlin’s hand tighter. “It wants you to act rashly, to come out and fight it before you’re ready.”
“Well, it’s working,” Merlin replies bitterly. “I have to face It, Arthur. It just killed two thousand people because It could. Because it was trying to prove a point. I have to stop it.”
“We have to stop it. Remember?” Arthur asks. “But we can’t delve into this without some kind of plan, Merlin. It’s mad.”
Sibyl interjects, “Arthur’s right. We need to know how to defeat It. And we also need to find a way to track it down, some way to meet with It, or talk to It. So far the only communication we’ve had with It is….” She trails off, and no one really needs her to finish the sentence; truthfully, no one really wants her to.
In the end, Merlin says it, because when has Merlin ever been good at keeping his mouth shut?
“In my dreams. I’ll have to speak with It...when I’m asleep.”
...
Merlin wants to try right away, but Arthur puts his foot down. He needs to relax, spend a day at the lake, or under the trees in the orchard, anything. In the end, Merlin agrees, but only because he knows he’s too stressed to sleep right now.
So Arthur takes Merlin on a real date, ignoring the prodding pains in his chest, a reminder of when he was a prince and would secretly court Guinevere. He takes him on a short walk through the orchard. They sit in their favorite spot and have a picnic, eating apples right off the tree for dessert.
After lunch they wander into a quiet part of the fields, where the crops grow tall but aren’t ready for harvesting yet. They sit in the bright afternoon sun and talk about nothing. They end up making love between the rows of corn, not caring who might happen by (in fact, it made it all the more enjoyable).
They head to the lakeside and watch the sun set. They start an impromptu campfire at the water’s edge and half the village comes to join them. They eat and drink and Merlin even graces them with a song in Old English that makes Arthur’s yearn for a time long gone.
As it gets dark, Merlin marvels at the fact that for just one day, one glorious day, Arthur made him forget about his destiny.
...
That night, Merlin watches an entire community buried deep in the jungles of South America destroy itself. The people in one village - men, women, and children alike - split into two groups with no discernable differences and then turn against each other. They fight to the death until one side is left standing. The elderly, the infants, and the very young all lie dead as the survivors trek through the jungles to a neighboring village.
The village welcomes them, as they always have. Then the fighting starts all over again.
In the end, ten villages that used to defend and care for each other lie in ruins. No one knows who they’re fighting, or why. It’s kill or be killed. Alliances are formed and disbanded, sometimes within the span of minutes.
Merlin watches the villagers destroy one another. And when the fighting is over, the survivors left standing throw themselves over a cliff in anguish at the horror they’ve wrought. Merlin knows there’s nothing he can do, and he watches helplessly.
The last villager left, a young boy who can’t be more than twelve years old, turns to Merlin and begs for forgiveness. Merlin opens his mouth to give it, but finds that he can’t. The boy turns from him with a sob and throws himself over the cliff.
Merlin screams at the top of his lungs.
The sound of dark, deep laughter rises over the edge of the cliff as if in answer.
“Show yourself, you coward!” The laughter only increases. “Face me!” Merlin yells, anger rising in him. His magic flows through him hard and fast, and he senses when his eyes glow gold. “Tell me where I can find you.
“Not here.” It’s a whisper on the wind, so quiet he can barely hear it.
“Why not?”
“It is not strong enough here.”
The whisper is louder this time, and Merlin recognizes that it’s just behind him. He turns to find the boy who he just watched jump off the cliff. Merlin flinches in horror at the sight of the boy standing there, his neck and back bent at horrible angles.
“Where…where can I find It?” Merlin asks, unable to keep the fear from his voice.
“The seer. She is the only one who has the power to commune with It. It needs a physical body to speak, and I am nothing more than a memory.”
“Sibyl. She…she’ll know what to do?”
“She will. Even now, It is showing her what needs to be done.”
Merlin nods. Without warning, he feels the dream slipping away. As the jungle blurs around him, he looks toward the boy.
“In sibbe gerest,” Merlin whispers.
Just for a second, the boy stands before him as he did before he jumped, and he smiles. Merlin wants to stay, but he can’t. The world slips away, but not before he hears: “Thank you, Emrys.”
