The Wolf and The Phoenix: Chapter 6a
Title: The Wolf and the Phoenix (6/7)
Author: dk323
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 15,466 (total)
Characters/Pairings: Merlin/Arthur
Disclaimer: The show Merlin is property of the BBC. The “His Dark Materials” books are property of Philip Pullman. The Dark Is Rising book series is property of Susan Cooper. No money is being made.
Summary:
In another world where everyone has daemons, Arthur is an exiled prince for saving Merlin from the King's blind crusade against magic. With Excalibur and magic on their side, Arthur and Merlin escape to a different world when the King's men catch up to them.
It's not the danger, but a damning prophecy that'll put their strong bond to the ultimate test.
A/N: A His Dark Materials crossover/fusion where Arthur and Merlin both have daemons. A daemon is a person’s soul that exists outside of one’s body in animal form. A daemon can speak as well. Further notes on daemons in Chapter 1.
Hunith’s daemon is briefly touched upon here (I couldn’t resist choosing a daemon for her). I named her daemon, Cieplo, which translates to “warm” in Polish for Hunith’s warm personality. I altered the name slightly to make it easier to pronounce in English.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5a | Chapter 5b
Chapter 6:
The White Raven
~ * ~
Intrigued. That was how Arthur felt upon seeing the quiet servant girl enter his room in the tower the next day. She was about the same age as that girl Lyra from the other world. Sixteen maybe seventeen? She had long brown hair and rather astonishingly light green eyes. Her mouse daemon sat on her shoulder. The daemon was snow-white in colour with black splotches dotting his small body.
“I thought my father would send some guard to leave me food and give me threatening looks. I wasn’t expecting someone like you. What is your name?” Arthur asked casually as he tucked into his food.
The young woman looked anxious to be in his presence. “Ophelia, My Lord.”
“Just call me Arthur. I feel more like a prisoner than a prince at the moment. And I would rather still be in exile far away from Camelot right now,” Arthur admitted honestly. “Could you tell me what is being done with Merlin? How is he?”
Ophelia gave him a puzzled look. “It’s strange that you sound concerned about him when you were the one who turned him in. I don’t know much… but it certainly isn’t going well for him. His phoenix daemon has been subdued. The sorcerer is under King Uther’s control--” She paused, looking like she wanted to speak further, but had reconsidered. She said instead, “I heard that the knights who still remain loyal to you question your judgment. You ventured into exile with Merlin as a close friend, and now your demeanor toward him has drastically altered…Apologies, I shouldn’t have been listening in. My mother always tells me that I am far too curious for my own good.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Arthur told her, dismissing her apology. “I need to know what’s going on, and the more you find out the better. I’m frankly not surprised that some of the knights questioning my sanity. I’m unsure I could even trust myself now.”
“Why did you turn him in? What happened?”
“It’s complicated…you can sit down if you want. Put that empty chair to use,” Arthur offered.
“Of course, My L-Arthur,” Ophelia quickly corrected herself.
She sat down in the chair on the other side of the table.
“You paused before. What were you going to say? It’s about Merlin, isn’t it?”
“Apparently last night, the king sent for Merlin to spend the night in his bedchambers…”
“He’s using him as a bedwarmer?!” Arthur concluded, nearly shouting out the words in his outrage.
“I can not say that with complete certainty, but since he is now under the king’s control…the king can do whatever he wishes with him.”
“My father hates him. He must be doing this to spite me,” Arthur decided, irritated. “He made sure everyone was aware of it, so the rumor would get back to me.”
“But you turned Merlin in -- as far as the king should be concerned, you don’t care about Merlin,” she pointed out. “It seems a bit silly for the king to test you.”
“Unfortunately, he doesn’t believe that I’ve turned against Merlin. So that’s why he has locked me up here and decided to do whatever he’d like with Merlin. He wants to see how I’ll react. To discover where my loyalties truly lie…and I’m not sure why I’m telling you all of this…”
Ophelia smiled softly. “I’ll keep this between us, I promise,” she assured him as her white mouse daemon crossed her chest and settled on her other shoulder. The daemon stared at Arthur with interest. “Where do your loyalties lie?”
“Not anywhere close to my father, I’m sure of that. I don’t care that I’m speaking treason. He’s mad.”
“The Mad King…” Ophelia remarked idly and Arthur felt uneasy at the sudden reminder of his alternate self’s nickname - the Mad Prince. Recalling the Prince certainly didn’t help his mood.
Ophelia spoke again before Arthur moved to change the subject. “I have a little cousin - he’s eleven -- who possesses magic. So I’m not quite in agreement with King Uther’s rule of law.”
“Good to know we both agree on that. What’s your cousin’s name?”
“Bran,” Ophelia told him shortly. With a smile, she stood up, “Anyway, I should go. I shall see you tomorrow. Unfortunately one of the guards will give you your meals for the remainder of this day. He’ll probably give you threatening looks too. Sorry about that,” she said, mildly apologetic and slyly referring back to Arthur’s earlier remark about expecting a guard.
“Am I boring you?”
“No, no not at all. There are simply other chores I must do that take priority,” Ophelia assured him. “See you, Arthur.”
She left the room with his empty plate.
“I don’t think her daemon is a real daemon,” Krola spoke up after Ophelia had departed. “I doubt she’s just a servant.”
“I have to agree. It was odd. Her daemon seemed like it hadn’t settled yet, but that doesn’t make sense. She should have a settled daemon by now. Though I didn’t feel like her daemon should have been a mouse…” Arthur noted.
“I’ve never been so puzzled by another daemon before. And I don’t think it has to do with an unsettled daemon. It feels much bigger than that,” Krola declared shrewdly.
“I think I should trust her though…it’s not like I have a lot of options now. And she’ll give me the information I need. We only have a feeling, right? Her daemon didn’t change form, so maybe he truly is settled and we’re being overcautious.”
“Her daemon didn’t speak once,” Krola pointed out.
“Then the next time I see Ophelia, I’ll ask her daemon to speak,” Arthur decided easily. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”
What Arthur was more concerned about now was hoping that the Gatekeeper would contact him. He was impatient to see him and hopefully find a way to get Merlin out of the situation Arthur put him in.
King Merlin would want to help Merlin, right? They were alternate versions of each other after all. Sure, the king condoned Blakeney’s manipulation of him to betray Merlin, but the fate of all the worlds had been at stake. Arthur hated that the betrayal had to be the solution, but he had done it and there was no going back now.
~ * ~
Fortunately, that evening, the Gatekeeper did come to see Arthur.
When Arthur saw him, he didn’t have to take long to guess the man’s name. “Your name is Lancelot, isn’t it? A man who looks like you and going by that name gave me Excalibur. He must have been an alternate version of you.”
“Yes, you’re right. My name is Lancelot,” he confirmed. “May I sit?” He asked politely. Arthur nodded, waving his hand at the seat across the table. Lancelot admitted, “I’ve never met an alternate version of me. Do you know where he resides?”
Arthur shrugged. “The Lancelot of my world told me that he’s more of a traveler. I only saw him that one time when he handed me Excalibur. That was months ago while I was in exile. I wouldn’t know where he is these days,” he informed the other man. “How did you get through to my world if the gateway is supposed to be closed?” Arthur wondered.
“Gatekeeper’s privileges. Someone always has to have access to all the worlds no matter if there’s a closure to the rest of the population. And just so you know, I was not the Gatekeeper who first started the closure. Another kingdom’s Gatekeeper was to blame. But like the other Gatekeepers, I had to follow the Gatekeeper’s Code. That if one kingdom closes access to one or more worlds, the remaining Gatekeepers must do the same. Otherwise the gatekeeping system would be strained by the extra traffic coming into fewer gateways. That may damage the system badly.”
Arthur sighed. “Fine. I’ll take your word for it. So did you tell King Merlin that I wished to meet with him?”
Lancelot looked apologetic. “I got your message from Sagittarius, yes. I’m sorry, but King Merlin is dealing with a delicate matter at the moment. He can’t see you right now. This is your world and your Camelot after all, and therefore more your responsibility. I’m sure you can handle this situation on your own. You possess Excalibur as well as the ability to drain magic…”
Arthur wondered what sort of delicate matter had gotten King Merlin so busy. Damn him. But he decided it wise not to comment on that point and instead, he went into the other issue at hand. “My ability to drain magic is useless. I can’t use the magic unless a sorcerer incants the awakening spell,” Arthur pointed out, feeling powerless as he spoke. “And it’s not like I have a lot of sorcerers coming here to visit me.”
“At least consider it as an option,” Lancelot suggested to him. “Think about it. You’re clever, I know you are.”
“All right. I will,” Arthur agreed reluctantly.
He caught the significant look that Lancelot was giving him. There was something Arthur was missing. How could his ability to drain magic help him to escape this tower? No magic user had come to see him in the tower and draining someone’s magic wouldn’t help him get past the tower’s magical defenses.
Using Excalibur to escape to a different world was not a preferred option. Well, escaping for good at least since his father still had Merlin. Arthur didn’t put it past his father to retaliate by killing Merlin if he learned of Arthur’s escape.
No. He wouldn’t leave Merlin. If he would escape to a different world, then it had to be with Merlin. And anyway, escaping wouldn’t help to solve the problem of his tyrant of a father ruling Camelot. Arthur needed to solve that problem instead of running away from it.
Before he could think over it further, Lancelot spoke again. “We have your friend Guinevere. She’s doing well, the last I heard. She’s staying with King Merlin’s mother. She’s been in my world since before this closure occurred, of course.”
“I don’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. I hope she went willingly. Or does King Merlin take all otherworlders without their consent like he did with me?”
“You certainly have an issue with the king,” Lancelot pointed out with a frown. “But no. I was the one who found Guinevere. She was on the run. Your King Uther was looking to kill her due to her closeness to the late Lady Morgana. Guinevere told me that Uther believed that she possessed magic herself. That Lady Morgana may have let her ‘borrow’ some of her magic so that she would be protected. And of course, with your magic ban in this Camelot - that would be enough to get her executed.”
“Wait - my father didn’t tell her he would subdue her daemon because she was allegedly a sorceress?”
Lancelot shook his head. “Just that he sought to kill her.”
“Then he knew that she really didn’t possess magic. He was just providing a reason to kill her. My father would want her dead because he knew she was never going to be on his side. That she would always remain loyal to Morgana even after her death.”
“Otherwise Uther would have had Guinevere’s daemon subdued? To have another magic user under his control?” Lancelot finished.
Arthur nodded. “Yes. And now there are two possible outcomes for sorcerers caught by my father: execution or the subduing of their daemons. Execution would be the more merciful action. To be under his control -- death would be a welcome paradise in comparison.”
“Your Merlin’s daemon has been subdued, right? I understand it cost you a lot to betray him like that.”
“I rather not talk about it. I want to punch someone in the face every time I think about what I did. Merlin will never forgive me for my betrayal. He’d have to be half-mad to even consider forgiving me.”
“I’m sorry to tell you this…but while your betrayal did weaken the forces under the Prince’s command, Merlin has an important role as well. The worlds won’t be saved from the Prince’s threat unless Merlin plays it out.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “What is Merlin’s role? And why didn’t Blakeney tell me about it?”
“Blakeney didn’t tell you most likely because you were only supposed to know your role. Not Merlin’s,” Lancelot explained to him reasonably. “Once Merlin is of his own mind again, he will have to truly forgive you for your betrayal. No mind control, no coercion. He honestly, deep down in his heart, has to forgive you for what you had done.”
“I can’t believe this. Merlin won’t do that. He saw me turn against him. I can’t see him forgiving me. Damnit,” Arthur swore, feeling incredibly frustrated. “I think our talk is over. But I want to be notified when the gateway between our worlds re-opens. Send your phoenix to tell me. I don’t care.”
“All right. Fair enough. But remember: you can drain magic. From someone or something…” Lancelot hinted to him.
After that somewhat helpful advice, Lancelot the Gatekeeper magically disappeared.
“That something could be a structure…” Krola spoke up. She was sitting by Arthur at the table. He didn’t doubt that Krola had been going over all that the Gatekeeper had said while Arthur himself had been speaking to him.
Arthur nodded, understanding what his daemon had deduced. “The tower has strong magical defenses on it. But I haven’t drained magic from a non-living thing before, so I don’t know if it’ll work successfully.”
“There’s a first time for everything. And if you take out the tower’s magic, then it’ll be easier to escape.”
“But this will work best if I could use the magic I’ve drained. I can’t do that without a sorcerer,” Arthur reminded Krola about the plan’s flaw.
Luckily Krola was one step ahead. “Or a sorceress, Arthur,” she pointed out.
Arthur was drawing a blank for a moment before he cottoned on. “Well, tomorrow should certainly be interesting,” he mused.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Krola said.
~ * ~
“I know about the prophecy. You know I’m the orphan. You can’t destroy me. Take me back right now!” The boy demanded. He reflexively played with the flat and thin golden bracelet on his wrist. “And take this bracelet off me too,” he added as an afterthought.
King Merlin sighed. Calmly, he sat down beside the ten year old boy on his cot in the Court Physician’s chambers.
“Then you also must know that you’re another version of me from a different world. And I’m actually glad that you can’t be destroyed. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you had to die based on the words of a prophecy. I promise you that.”
“You’ll be sad if I die?” The orphan asked him skeptically. “My father hates you. He said you can’t stand that I can’t be killed.”
“Well he was lying to you. I only want to protect you,” King Merlin assured him. “Kara?” He called over the Court Physician.
She came to them, a clear vial in her hands. She smiled warmly at the orphan. “Hello. I’m the Court Physician. Can you guess what’s in this vial?”
The boy’s blue eyes narrowed suspiciously, though his face held a curious expression. Kara let him hold the vial which held a golden swirl of energy with an ugly black energy mixing with it.
The boy looked up after his inspection. “It’s my magic of course. The golden bit. The dark part isn’t mine. I don’t know where it came from.”
“Kara found this inside you - what do you prefer I call you? I hear you’re not too fond of being called Merlin. Though it was the name your mother gave you, right?”
The orphan shrugged. “I was too young when my mother died. I’ve just been told that was my birth name. But I don’t want to share a name with a bird. My name is Gwydion.”
Merlin decided that the orphan going by a different name would be best. The boy would feel more like an individual instead of just one world’s version of a person.
“Gwydion you’ll be then,” he acquiesced smoothly. “Back to the matter at hand, Kara here checked your magic to insure all was well with that part of you. Unfortunately, she found this black energy - most likely dark magic - mixed in with it. You may not currently be feeling the adverse effects of this mixing of magic within you, but we fear in the future, it will be poison to you. And you may die. I’m sure you’d want only your own magic inside of you.”
“How did the dark magic get inside of me? You think my father put it in me without me knowing?” Gwydion assumed. He sounded upset.
“Gwydion, he is called the Prince of Darkness for a reason. He may appear to care for you a great deal, but that doesn’t mean he won’t manipulate your magic without your permission. There are some benefits to mixing magic like yours with the essence of dark magic. Your father is using you as a power source, and to boost the strength of your magic, he is injecting dark magic inside of you. Unfortunately, it comes at the cost of your health,” King Merlin intimated to him with concern etched in his tone.
Gwydion looked to be considering. King Merlin felt that the boy was beginning to question the trust he had in his adoptive father, the Prince of Darkness. “I want to see it for myself. Take some of my magic now,” Gwydion commanded.
He held out his arm to the court physician.
“Very well. Are you sure?”
Gwydion nodded. “Yes. You have my permission.”
Kara waved her hand over his forearm and she extracted a sampling of the boy’s magic. Gwydion looked dismayed when he saw foreign dark magic mixing with his own natural golden magic.
“This black magic will hurt me in the future?” Gwydion confirmed.
“Yes. I want to make sure you live a long life, Gwydion. And this dark magic inside you will prevent you from living that life. We can help you fortunately. Kara can remove the dark magic from you - separating it from your own magic. The procedure may hurt a bit…”
“But by the end of it, my child, you’ll only possess the magic you were meant to have,” Kara assured him. “No more ugly dark energy slowly infecting your body. You’ll be able to live a nice, long life. Think of all the great things you can accomplish if you live longer.”
Gwydion looked to be considering her words. “I want you to get rid of the black magic, please,” Gwydion requested, his voice suddenly quiet almost shy. Then he peered at the bracelet on his wrist. “What does this bracelet do?”
“The bracelet will insure you stay in this world for now at least,” the King explained to him. “In the future, I may take it off you. But this is a precautionary measure.”
“So I can still go anywhere in this world - not just remain in Camelot?”
“Yes, that’s right. This world is quite big. I think you’ll be far from bored.”
“What about someone my age?” Gwydion asked.
“Soon we will have a Feast of Gratitude in honour of the god of magic. There will be a number of children your age coming for the feast. You won’t be disappointed.”
“All right. I’m looking forward to it,” said Gwydion with a small smile.
“Now I will leave you with Kara,” King Merlin declared, smiling back at him.
He felt encouraged by Gwydion’s initial progress in moving away from trusting the Prince of Darkness.
~ * ~
Memory was a fragile thing in dreams. Merlin knew his name, of course, and that he had magic - his beautiful magic - he couldn’t imagine living without it. He remembered that his mother’s name was Hunith. Her orange and cream cat daemon, Cieplo, was so clear in his mind. He had many pleasant memories of the male cat’s soothingly familiar presence by his mother’s side.
Before she had settled, Zlota had changed into a kitten quite a few times to play with Cieplo. Often, Merlin recalled Zlota as a kitten pestering Cieplo with her exuberance, but luckily his mother’s daemon took the playfulness as calmly as his mother would with Merlin.
Zlota was now perched on his shoulder as a scarlet-gold phoenix - always and forever a presence of comfort to him. She was the one thing he could count on now. He had no doubt about that.
In this dream, Merlin finally felt free, free to think for himself, free to do what he wished.
But he couldn’t quite recall why this freedom was so important, so cherished to him at this moment.
What had happened? Why did he feel like he had been so terribly thirsty and now, only now, in this quiet beauty of his dream forest, could he finally drink the water he so desired?
Merlin sighed, relishing his stay in the peaceful forest. He went to sit down by an old oak tree. “Stay with me, Zlota. Something’s wrong, I think,” he said quietly.
Merlin wished he knew what was wrong.
“I think you’re right,” Zlota commented. She left his shoulder and settled down by his hip. Merlin swept his hand over her feathery body and he felt his worry ease as he clung to the closeness of his beloved Zlota.
Merlin put his head back so that it touched the hard bark of the tree.
“Do you remember a castle? There was a particular one, but I can’t recall much else about it…” Merlin admitted hopelessly.
“The castle was a dangerous place,” Zlota acknowledged grimly.
Merlin nodded. “Yes. It still is,” he said, though he wasn’t sure why he thought that. How would he know? He didn’t even know where this castle was located in the first place.
Then their musings were interrupted by a little white wolf pup wandering toward them. It was strange to see such a young wolf pup without its mother nearby.
Merlin was surprised at himself for his deep hatred against this seemingly innocent small creature.
Yet he almost didn’t care why he felt such a sharp dislike toward the wolf pup. All that mattered now was to make the creature leave. This was Merlin’s territory and the wolf pup was trespassing.
The animal needed to pay.
“Zlota,” Merlin said simply and he knew that Zlota was well aware of what he was asking of her. She was a part of Merlin after all.
Merlin wasn’t expecting Zlota to transform into a dragon - one that was only a little bigger than the wolf pup. But then again, this was a dream and such odd things could happen in dreams.
He smiled as the now dragon-shaped Zlota let out her fire-breath and thoroughly burned the unsuspecting wolf pup to death.
The white wolf pup never had a chance up against a dragon.
Merlin thought that this dream was a good one as he observed the ashes left over from the kill.
Zlota had done a commendable job.
~ * ~
Arthur woke up the next morning to Krola whining. She was anxious about something.
“What is it?” Arthur asked her.
His wolf daemon was watching the door to his tower room as if the door would attack.
“I think Hunith is here. And I doubt she’s happy with you,” Krola intimated, sounding uneasy.
“How do you know--?”
“I caught her scent… she’s definitely close. I don’t know who brought her here, but she’s in the tower. And she’s looking to speak to you.”
“Or yell at me. Krola, I don’t know what to do. Anything I say to her…how can I justify what I did? Merlin’s her son, her only son. She’s not going to listen to reason. Hunith certainly won’t easily accept that her own son was a ‘necessary sacrifice.’”
“She may not even give you a chance to explain,” Krola added unhelpfully.
Arthur covered his face in his hands. “I’m dead,” he declared in resignation.
The door to the room opened with an ominous creak. Merlin’s mother entered the rounded room with her orange and cream cat daemon, Cieplo, at her heels.
In any other situation, Arthur thought it would be amusing that Krola was so afraid of Hunith and her cat daemon’s wrath that she kept close to Arthur and whined softly. The wolf-daemon looked ready to dive under the bed. A wolf frightened of a cat? It just didn’t happen - at least with true creatures. Daemons were a different matter entirely.
Especially now, Arthur could understand Krola’s fear as he was feeling that same way himself. He tried to hide the ill feeling as best as he could, but it wasn’t easy. This whole predicament was a nightmare.
“I have been told of what you have done, what you have brought on to my son,” Hunith said stiffly, her voice trembling a bit from emotion.
She remained standing - quite possibly not wanting to stay there any longer than she had to, Arthur thought grimly.
“Hunith, you have to understand…” Arthur tried to get through to her, feeling like pleading would be the only way.
Hunith gave him a displeased look. “I don’t know what to think. Here you are locked up as King Uther’s prisoner, it seems, and yet you did exactly what your father wanted. You brought a sorcerer - my son - to him. You condemned my son to have his free will taken away, to be forced under unwilling command because of your father’s blind crusade. What am I to make of your intentions? I can’t believe anything you say or any other claims that you’re still the man I trusted with my son. I can only go by what has happened. And I swear--”
“Hunith, I wouldn’t have done that to Merlin if there wasn’t another choice. The destruction of all the worlds is at stake!” Arthur argued.
“You do not interrupt me,” she said sharply.
“Yes. I’m sorry,” Arthur said quickly. Krola looked worried, still whining quietly.
Hunith’s daemon hissed and bared his teeth.
“I’m sure you have a very good reason, Arthur. And maybe you felt like you had no choice and decided to take my son down with you. I hope you do feel miserable. No matter how noble your motivation may have been, you still betrayed him,” she told him, her unyielding tone of voice leaving Arthur little room, he felt to persuade her to trust him again.
She continued on before Arthur could even think of the right words to say. “I want him back, and once he is well and free of this wretched spell, I don’t want him anywhere near you. Understood? I don’t care if you swear that you’ll never harm him again - I won’t believe you. Though Merlin is grown, I’m still his mother and I reserve the right to decide whose company he’s in. I’m certain he’ll agree with me after realizing the terrible thing you did to him.”
Arthur sighed. “I promise you, Hunith. I will save Merlin, and if you wish, I’ll make sure that he is far away from me. Though I can’t promise that I won’t visit him.”
“As long as you aren’t alone with him,” Hunith allowed reluctantly. “Someone needs to be supervising the both of you. No exceptions. It will take me a while to ever trust you again, Arthur. Now I have been told about this World of Magic…”
“By who?” Arthur wondered.
“By this young woman named Ophelia. She had a startling appearance, I have to say. She told me about this other world that is friendly to magic users. The World of Magic doesn’t condemn them as your father so hatefully does here. And she told me about that world’s Camelot.”
Arthur wasn’t sure what Hunith had meant by a startling appearance. Ophelia had looked rather ordinary - besides her peculiar unsettled daemon, there wasn’t anything particularly striking about her. But he decided this wasn’t the time to discuss it. He would deal with the matter when or if he saw Ophelia again.
“That Camelot is ruled by an alternate version of Merlin,” Arthur pointed out.
Hunith nodded. “My son will be sent there once he is free. A place that respects his magical nature is the best place for him. That’s what I want.”
“For how long? He can’t stay there forever,” Arthur argued a bit weakly. He didn’t have the strength to get into a conflict with Merlin’s mother. It simply wasn’t worth it when he knew that he was in the wrong and she had every right to have her wishes abided by. “This world is still Merlin’s world - magic ban or not,” he reminded her.
“Until you do your duty and lift this ban on magic in Camelot. I want you to do the right thing,” Hunith bade of him. “Make the people of Camelot see that magic is good, and to make this kingdom safe for those who possess magic again. Until then, my son will remain in the other world.”
“Very well. I will do what I can,” Arthur assured her quietly. “I am sorry for what I did to Merlin. I can’t imagine how you must feel now, but know that I feel awful about it. I’ve never felt worse as I do now,” he confided in her.
Merlin’s mother only gave him a look. “I just want my son safe,” she said and then she departed from the room, carrying her cat daemon in her arms.
Arthur was somewhat relieved to have that encounter over with, but he certainly didn’t feel any better than he had before Hunith had come.
If anything, he felt even more miserable. If that were even possible. The best plan to undertake now, Arthur concluded, was rescuing Merlin from Uther’s control. And insuring Merlin was in a safe place.
Though it hurt him deeply, Arthur knew he had to accept that maybe now, Merlin would be happiest as far away from Arthur as possible.
~ * ~
“So you brought Merlin’s mother here so she could speak to me,” Arthur began when Ophelia entered his room a few hours later. Her white mouse rested on her shoulder.
“You don’t sound too happy about it.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Arthur said in an undisguised sarcastic tone of voice. “Who are you really? Did King Merlin send you? You do know about the closure, right? Not the best timing.”
“The closure issue will be resolved,” Ophelia assured him, sounding quite confident on the matter. “And yes,” she admitted. “King Merlin did request to have me here to help you, if you should require it.”
Arthur raised his brow. “But you’re a--”
“A Lady?” Ophelia finished for him with a frown. “I would have you know that in my clan, both men and women are treated as equals. I will inherit my family’s wealth without need for marriage because my parents decided not to try for a boy after my younger sister Celeste was born. And that is perfectly acceptable in my clan. Women can fight just as well as you lot.”
“Right,” Arthur agreed a little shakily.
Ophelia’s piercing gaze caused him to decide it best not to disagree with her. But he had wanted to say that, of course, if you possessed magic like Ophelia did than it was logical that this sort of equality could come about. After all, requiring the strength to wield a sword was much different than being learned in magic where physical strength wasn’t as important. Except he wouldn’t say that in front of Ophelia. After all, it wasn’t his business and he really needed her magical assistance, so it wouldn’t be wise to turn an ally into a foe by arguing with her. “You’re nobility then? The servant bit is a disguise?”
“Yes to both questions. My name is truly Lady Ophelia,” she acknowledged. “I decided it was easier to slip in and out as a servant.”
Krola spoke up then, peering at her daemon. “So the mouse isn’t your daemon?”
She shook her head. “No, my soul is inside. My Char here is actually a dragon. We nobility in the World of Magic usually have specialized dragons. Char here can change size in his dragon form as well as turn into a different creature. Mind you, not any creature -- there is a limit. He can only turn into a mouse at the moment. I don’t know if he’ll manage another animal, but you’re quite fond of your mouse form, aren’t you, Char?” Ophelia asked her dragon affectionately.
“Yes I am,” Char said cheerfully. He was playing with a strand of Ophelia’s hair.
Arthur was frankly surprised that a dragon would ever prefer to be a mouse of all creatures. But far be it for him to understand the eccentricities of dragons.
“Could I see his true form?” Arthur asked in curiosity. “As a small dragon. I’ve only seen a big dragon. Never a smaller one.”
Ophelia asked Char if he would transform into a dragon, but he declined. According to him, he just ‘didn’t feel like it.’
Then Char scurried down her body and ran under the bed.
Ophelia sighed. “I’m sorry about that. Char has his moods. I think he’d just rather stay a mouse now. Maybe some other time.”
“Is there anything else you need to tell me? You said you had a cousin, Bran? Were you lying about him?”
“Oh no. I didn’t lie to you about my family. I really do have an eleven year old relative named Bran. He’s probably the most level-headed boy you’ll ever meet. Of course, I am partial to him as he’s kin, so don’t take my word for it,” she confided in him with a small smile. Then she beckoned Char. “Charmont, come back here,” she ordered him firmly.
Char heeded her words and came out from under the bed. “I was going to come out soon,” he said defensively, sounding a bit like a petulant child. “Your wolf daemon is very big,” Char told Arthur. Arthur thought that from a mouse’s perspective, then yes, Krola would appear rather big. “Impressive too.”
“Thank you,” Krola responded to the mouse, unsure how else to take Char’s rather awestruck compliment.
It was especially funny coming from a creature whose original form was a dragon. Krola had to admit that she would be easily overlooked if it were a comparison between her and a dragon.
“There’s something I should show you,” Ophelia declared. “Maybe it’d be best if you sit down? It is shocking to witness for the first time.”
“I’ll remain standing,” Arthur said stubbornly. “What - are you truly an odd-looking magical creature who is wearing a disguise?” He guessed.
“Oh no. I am still human. And I wouldn’t say I look odd. At least I hope you wouldn’t think that…” she said slightly uneasily.
Arthur had his eyes trained on her. He waved his hand. “Well then. Just show me. I can handle whatever it is.”
Ophelia gave him a sharp look, but she proceeded nevertheless. Her disguise fell away. Before Arthur was still a young woman but she had very white hair and skin and it was certainly a startling appearance to take in all at once. The one thing that remained the same was her pale green eyes.
“My younger cousin, Bran, has tawny-golden eyes. He looks more startling than me if you can imagine.”
“Wait. He has the same pale colouring? All your family and relatives do?”
Ophelia nodded. “Yes. Most of them have very similar colouring. Those born into the White Diamond Clan, that is.”
“I think the Prince of Darkness mentioned you, this Clan…said you fight like the bastards of the gods.”
“Yes he doesn’t like us because we’re remarkable fighters. That truth infuriates the Prince.”
“I got that impression,” Arthur told her. “If you’re here to aid me, then I could really use your assistance now. I need to drain this tower of its magic so I can escape it. And I need you, as a magic user, to awaken the magic within me after the draining.”
“You would need magic to make a quick escape,” she agreed. “From what I can tell, this tower is held up by magic and once you drain it --”
“The tower will crumble,” Arthur concluded.
“Yes. But be forewarned that you must release all the magic within you as soon as you escape the tower. It is a lot of magic to hold inside one person and that kind of magical energy could very likely kill you. The magic in this tower is much, much greater than even the magic your Merlin possesses. So you can understand the risk you’re taking here.”
“I’m willing to take it if this path will lead me one step closer to saving Merlin. Where must I release the magic?”
“Back to nature where all magic originates. The mother goddess and the god of magic will both be pleased for your offering.”
“King Merlin talked about the mother goddess and her involvement in causing the plague in your world,” Arthur noted.
Ophelia gave a small nod. “No one in my world is absolutely certain who caused the plague. It is regrettable that it happened, but I personally am not sure why the plague was unleashed. After all, the ways of the gods and goddesses are not easily discerned. The mother goddess had to have a good reason to set a plague to kill the non-magic users of our world. But I have heard whispers that those who were unfortunately killed in the tragic turn of events were reincarnated. Reborn as humans again in another world entirely or as creatures, so some good came out of the catastrophe.”
“That helps a little. But that’s horrible if the mother goddess decided to go to such terrible lengths… I’ve always thought the gods and goddesses were more moral than that.”
“I suppose they make their mistakes as we humans are wont to do. I am just as dismayed as you, but what is done is done. The World of Magic has been permanently altered. Now we should focus on what we - you - can change.”
“Rescuing Merlin,” Arthur said with a nod.
“Yes. I really should go now. You should think carefully about what you are about to do. Draining the amount of magic you’ll be draining at one time is not something to be done lightly. You should get plenty of rest as well. I shall return tomorrow.”
“I rather save Merlin as soon as possible,” Arthur argued.
“I know, I understand your impatience, but when Merlin’s himself again, I doubt he’ll like it if you died trying to save him. You need to undertake the task ahead of you seriously and patiently… I want to make sure you survive the ordeal as much as I want you to rescue your Merlin. So please, take heed of my advice.”
Arthur sighed. “All right. I don’t like waiting, but you’re the sorceress here. I’ll follow your advice.”
“Thank you, Arthur Pendragon,” Ophelia said graciously to him.
~ * ~
Morgan entered Gwydion’s room late the next day. “Hello. I’m Morgan. I work in the castle, primarily as a performer - a dancer, that is, but I help out where I can. My mum always said I was a bit of a free spirit,” she said conspiratorially.
“Hi,” said Gwydion, unable to suppress a smile.
“King Merlin thought it’d be good for me to meet you,” Morgan informed him.
He peered at her purple eyes. “You know about the Immortals, don’t you? Most had purple eyes just like you. Are you descended from them?”
“I don’t know that,” Morgan admitted. “It’s a bit of a family myth. The Immortals used to live in every world, but then they were persecuted…”
“-- because their blood was powerful and useful for many magical spells. People went after them to bleed them out,” Gwydion contributed with great interest. “To get as much of their blood as they can.”
“Yes,” Morgan acknowledged with a smile. “Luckily, they were able to get the coveted support of the gods. They gave the Immortals their own safe, protected world to live in.”
“And then the Immortals faded away into myth and legend,” Gwydion concluded with a sad sigh. “Pity they were persecuted. I’d love to meet one. They were known to be very wise, weren’t they?”
Morgan nodded. “Yes. But there is an extensive library here in the castle. You could gain quite a lot of knowledge by reading books. Oh, then again, you’re just a child. What am I saying? You should enjoy your youth and play outside. It will pass you by before you know it.”
“I like to read,” Gwydion declared almost defiantly.
“Good trait to have for someone your age. I’m impressed,” she said.
The boy looked to be considering something, and then with a small nod to himself, he went to his desk and pulled out the parchment he had been drawing on. “I could use an opinion on what I’ve drawn,” he told her.
“You’re quite a talented artist,” Morgan praised the boy. And she truly meant it. The quality of the drawing was at the level of a master artist. Gwydion certainly possessed a talent at the arts. “This is a beautifully drawn knife. Could you tell me about it?” Morgan asked of him.
She’d noticed how the boy’s face had lit up when she had complimented him on the knife drawing.
Gwydion bit his lip uncertainly. “Are you really interested?” He asked her.
Morgan gave him a warm look. “Yes. I’m here to listen and I admit I’m quite intrigued. I’m assuming it’s a special knife?”
“That’s right,” Gwydion confirmed, the pride in his voice unmistakable. “But the knife doesn’t exist yet. I’m hoping to make it. You know how there’s that one sword, Excalibur, that can be used as means of travel between worlds? But what makes the sword even more special is that it’s also a fighting weapon without being damaged in the process. A sword like that is a feat of magical achievement. I heard it was difficult, nearly impossible, to forge a sword that will be strong enough to survive battles but also be delicate enough to open windows into other worlds.”
“Yes, of course. And Excalibur is currently possessed by someone not of this world,” Morgan pointed out, and a moment later, she cottoned on to what Gwydion was planning. “You want to make a knife with the same capabilities as Excalibur? Is that it? If you know of Excalibur, then you know the great amount of magic and sheer skill that is required to fashion such a weapon.”
“Do you know anyone who has successfully made a knife in the style of Excalibur?”
She frowned. “There are stories of unsuccessful attempts,” she informed him. “Sorcerers who were expert blacksmiths have faced defeat in trying to do the almost impossible. Like you said yourself, it’s nearly impossible, Gwydion.”
“But it can’t hurt to try,” Gwydion said firmly, sounding determined. “It may take time, I know that. But I have my whole life ahead of me. I know how powerful I am. I’m Merlin after all no matter the dislike of my birth name. I can feel the magic inside of me - and I just know I was meant to make this knife. It would be perfect. A knife is smaller than a sword and that leaves a concealment charm unnecessary. It’s easier to hide from enemies…”
“What about the knife’s true wielder? If the knife will be anything like Excalibur, then only one person should be able to wield it. That is, the right person, to ensure such a powerful weapon is protected from those who seek to abuse its capabilities. Would that be you?”
The orphan shook his head. “I’m only interested in making it. I don’t know who will be the knife’s true wielder. I don’t think I’ve met that person yet,” he admitted thoughtfully.
He had a faraway look on his face as he turned his attention to his knife drawing. Morgan guessed that he was wondering about that unknown person who could one day wield this knife. He shook his head quickly when she put her hand gently on his shoulder. Gwydion shrugged and smiled at her softly. “That’s the exciting part - finding out who the mystery owner would be. At least I think so. I’m hoping to call the knife, ‘Gwydion’s Knife’…so that others will remember who the maker will be.”
“You have high ambitions for a ten-year old,” Morgan noted. “I say if you have the passion for this knife, then you should pursue the challenge. But it would be good to discuss the matter with King Merlin. I’m sure he’d love to hear about the knife.”
Gwydion frowned slightly. He didn’t look particularly happy about confiding in the King.
“Gwydion, you know some people would love to have the chance to speak to another version of themselves. King Merlin only wants to help you, to insure your happiness.”
“He said that he didn’t want to harm me,” he relayed to her, sounding uncertain and doubtful of the King’s words.
Morgan smiled. “You should ask him about The Code of The Otherworlders. One part of the Code is to not directly harm another version of oneself. Of course the King follows this Code. Therefore, you should rest assured that you will be safe in this world. Even without the Code, it is considered taboo to hurt your other self from another world. Remember that.”
Gwydion appeared thoughtful, and then he nodded. He seemed to be persuaded by Morgan’s sincerity.
“All right. I’ll talk to King Merlin,” he agreed.
~ * ~
“Is this really necessary?” King Merlin asked wearily of King Draco Wolfsbane. “Those of the Daemon World are not soul-less because their souls are outside their bodies. And the animal souls are not wild animals. It is no reason for this closure you ordered.”
“I expected that you would say that, Merlin, but I’d like to see the proof for myself. And since you and your Queen insisted on being here, I think it would be well-advised to have a witness.”
Queen Freya spoke up in mild disdain. “I do hope you plan to re-open the gateway between our world and the Daemon World. I must tell you it isn’t fair for you to have done such a closure based on your misconception.”
“I am truly sorry, My Lady. I still am firm on seeking proof, though I am not against lifting the closure once I gain the information I need.”
Freya frowned, and Merlin squeezed her shoulder to help in calming her down.
Merlin nodded at the fellow King. “You may proceed.”
King Draco motioned to the servant by the door, and the man bowed out of the room. A moment later, he brought in a brunette boy of about eight years of age. His blue-green eyes were wide in obvious worry. An unsettled daemon in the shape of a small puppy was cradled in the boy’s arms. The boy looked nervous.
“You brought in a boy from the Daemon World?” Merlin asked in dismay.
“I heard what you did with the orphan,” said the other King in an accusing tone.
“I was following the Code,” King Merlin argued.
King Draco waved his hand. “Yes, of course, if you allow for some flexibility. Now I am not against what you did, but I’m sure you’re aware that your actions will incite the Prince’s anger?”
“Of course. I’m aware of that,” he acknowledged grimly.
“Enough of the Prince of Darkness. We could discuss him all day if we wished. I think it best that we return to the matter at hand. What is your name, my dear child?” Freya asked the boy from the Daemon World.
“Declan,” the boy addressed her in a shy voice.
“We shall begin, My Lady,” King Draco announced.
He waved at his servant who looked a bit unhappy to be granted the task he was about to carry out.
The servant forcibly took the now mouse daemon from the boy’s hands and he left the room. A great change came over the boy. His face fell and he cried out in anguish for his daemon as if he were dying and needed someone to rescue him. Yet a magical spell kept him rooted to the spot.
“End this now,” Freya demanded only moments later.
The reason for her urgent demand was clear. Not only had the boy been stricken with emotional trauma, but King Merlin had gone deathly pale as well. His hands were tightly gripping the arms of the chair as if his life was depending on it.
Merlin just managed to speak out, “My empathic abilities…”
King Draco appeared alarmed, and upon snapping his fingers, the servant returned into the room. He returned the daemon back to the child.
King Draco apologized, “I am sorry. I did not realize you would be so affected by the separation. I had forgotten your mother’s empathic talents that you inherited.”
“I want to go home,” the boy said plaintively. He warily stared at each of them in turn.
Clearly, the child distrusted them after being parted from his daemon.
Color was coming back to King Merlin’s face upon the boy regaining his daemon. He appeared to be able to breathe again while his empathic abilities weren’t wearing down on him anymore.
Freya stood up and cautiously approached the anxious boy. She smiled warmly at him. The boy’s daemon - which had remained a mouse - was now a very alert yellow bird that couldn’t stay still on the child’s shoulder.
Careful not to touch the bird, Freya placed her hand on his other shoulder. She spoke softly to the boy, “Do not worry, Declan. You shall return home, I assure you. No one will take your daemon from you from this moment forward. I will make sure of it. What is her name?” She asked him.
“My name is Melisande,” the female daemon answered her. She moved up and down the boy’s shoulder, her little talons clutching the boy’s shirt underneath her.
“It’s nice to meet you, Melisande,” said Freya kindly.
Merlin smiled to himself as his wife helped to ease the scared boy’s mind.
“I think, Declan, that you could do with a good rest,” Merlin decided. “It must have been a stressful day for you, my boy. When you wake up, you will be home again.”
Declan gave the smallest of smiles, his uneasiness with his predicament showing through. “Sleep sounds nice. I miss my mum.”
Freya smiled at him, and then assured him that he would be with his mum again soon. She silently incanted a spell to put the nervous child under a peaceful, dreamless slumber. The boy and his daemon both fell asleep upon a pile of soft blankets and a pillow that Freya magically procured as well.
“My empathic magic has never overwhelmed me in such a way before,” Merlin explained to his wife and King Draco afterwards. His tone was still somewhat breathless as he continued to recover from the emotional shock he had felt from Declan. “The connection between the boy Declan and his daemon-soul is inconceivably strong.”
Freya granted the other King an unyielding look. “Is this proof enough? I insist - and my husband does as well - that you re-open the gateway between our world and the Daemon World.”
“Based on what I experienced, I can inform you with great certainty that those of the other world in question are as human as we are,” Merlin intimated to King Draco. “And we shouldn’t look down upon them because they don’t have their souls within them or that they may not be as magically advanced as our world.”
King Draco Wolfsbane nodded. “I will call for the re-opening. I have my proof. I do regret that you were in pain, Merlin. I hope you won’t hold it against me.”
“It was an accident,” King Merlin acknowledged. “You didn’t intend for it. I understand.”
“Very good. I am glad for that. I will return the boy to his world as soon as I can,” King Draco declared.
Freya spoke up, “I shall stay here to calm the boy and insure his return goes pleasantly. I hope you do not mind, Wolfsbane.”
“Not at all. Perhaps a female touch will be just the thing,” King Draco decided reasonably.
Freya convinced Merlin that he should return back to Camelot ahead of her. He had had a harrowing experience and he really should recuperate back at home. Merlin reminded her that she was the one who was pregnant, but Freya reassured him that she felt just fine.
~ * ~
Chapter 6b
Author: dk323
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 15,466 (total)
Characters/Pairings: Merlin/Arthur
Disclaimer: The show Merlin is property of the BBC. The “His Dark Materials” books are property of Philip Pullman. The Dark Is Rising book series is property of Susan Cooper. No money is being made.
Summary:
In another world where everyone has daemons, Arthur is an exiled prince for saving Merlin from the King's blind crusade against magic. With Excalibur and magic on their side, Arthur and Merlin escape to a different world when the King's men catch up to them.
It's not the danger, but a damning prophecy that'll put their strong bond to the ultimate test.
A/N: A His Dark Materials crossover/fusion where Arthur and Merlin both have daemons. A daemon is a person’s soul that exists outside of one’s body in animal form. A daemon can speak as well. Further notes on daemons in Chapter 1.
Hunith’s daemon is briefly touched upon here (I couldn’t resist choosing a daemon for her). I named her daemon, Cieplo, which translates to “warm” in Polish for Hunith’s warm personality. I altered the name slightly to make it easier to pronounce in English.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5a | Chapter 5b
Chapter 6:
The White Raven
~ * ~
Intrigued. That was how Arthur felt upon seeing the quiet servant girl enter his room in the tower the next day. She was about the same age as that girl Lyra from the other world. Sixteen maybe seventeen? She had long brown hair and rather astonishingly light green eyes. Her mouse daemon sat on her shoulder. The daemon was snow-white in colour with black splotches dotting his small body.
“I thought my father would send some guard to leave me food and give me threatening looks. I wasn’t expecting someone like you. What is your name?” Arthur asked casually as he tucked into his food.
The young woman looked anxious to be in his presence. “Ophelia, My Lord.”
“Just call me Arthur. I feel more like a prisoner than a prince at the moment. And I would rather still be in exile far away from Camelot right now,” Arthur admitted honestly. “Could you tell me what is being done with Merlin? How is he?”
Ophelia gave him a puzzled look. “It’s strange that you sound concerned about him when you were the one who turned him in. I don’t know much… but it certainly isn’t going well for him. His phoenix daemon has been subdued. The sorcerer is under King Uther’s control--” She paused, looking like she wanted to speak further, but had reconsidered. She said instead, “I heard that the knights who still remain loyal to you question your judgment. You ventured into exile with Merlin as a close friend, and now your demeanor toward him has drastically altered…Apologies, I shouldn’t have been listening in. My mother always tells me that I am far too curious for my own good.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Arthur told her, dismissing her apology. “I need to know what’s going on, and the more you find out the better. I’m frankly not surprised that some of the knights questioning my sanity. I’m unsure I could even trust myself now.”
“Why did you turn him in? What happened?”
“It’s complicated…you can sit down if you want. Put that empty chair to use,” Arthur offered.
“Of course, My L-Arthur,” Ophelia quickly corrected herself.
She sat down in the chair on the other side of the table.
“You paused before. What were you going to say? It’s about Merlin, isn’t it?”
“Apparently last night, the king sent for Merlin to spend the night in his bedchambers…”
“He’s using him as a bedwarmer?!” Arthur concluded, nearly shouting out the words in his outrage.
“I can not say that with complete certainty, but since he is now under the king’s control…the king can do whatever he wishes with him.”
“My father hates him. He must be doing this to spite me,” Arthur decided, irritated. “He made sure everyone was aware of it, so the rumor would get back to me.”
“But you turned Merlin in -- as far as the king should be concerned, you don’t care about Merlin,” she pointed out. “It seems a bit silly for the king to test you.”
“Unfortunately, he doesn’t believe that I’ve turned against Merlin. So that’s why he has locked me up here and decided to do whatever he’d like with Merlin. He wants to see how I’ll react. To discover where my loyalties truly lie…and I’m not sure why I’m telling you all of this…”
Ophelia smiled softly. “I’ll keep this between us, I promise,” she assured him as her white mouse daemon crossed her chest and settled on her other shoulder. The daemon stared at Arthur with interest. “Where do your loyalties lie?”
“Not anywhere close to my father, I’m sure of that. I don’t care that I’m speaking treason. He’s mad.”
“The Mad King…” Ophelia remarked idly and Arthur felt uneasy at the sudden reminder of his alternate self’s nickname - the Mad Prince. Recalling the Prince certainly didn’t help his mood.
Ophelia spoke again before Arthur moved to change the subject. “I have a little cousin - he’s eleven -- who possesses magic. So I’m not quite in agreement with King Uther’s rule of law.”
“Good to know we both agree on that. What’s your cousin’s name?”
“Bran,” Ophelia told him shortly. With a smile, she stood up, “Anyway, I should go. I shall see you tomorrow. Unfortunately one of the guards will give you your meals for the remainder of this day. He’ll probably give you threatening looks too. Sorry about that,” she said, mildly apologetic and slyly referring back to Arthur’s earlier remark about expecting a guard.
“Am I boring you?”
“No, no not at all. There are simply other chores I must do that take priority,” Ophelia assured him. “See you, Arthur.”
She left the room with his empty plate.
“I don’t think her daemon is a real daemon,” Krola spoke up after Ophelia had departed. “I doubt she’s just a servant.”
“I have to agree. It was odd. Her daemon seemed like it hadn’t settled yet, but that doesn’t make sense. She should have a settled daemon by now. Though I didn’t feel like her daemon should have been a mouse…” Arthur noted.
“I’ve never been so puzzled by another daemon before. And I don’t think it has to do with an unsettled daemon. It feels much bigger than that,” Krola declared shrewdly.
“I think I should trust her though…it’s not like I have a lot of options now. And she’ll give me the information I need. We only have a feeling, right? Her daemon didn’t change form, so maybe he truly is settled and we’re being overcautious.”
“Her daemon didn’t speak once,” Krola pointed out.
“Then the next time I see Ophelia, I’ll ask her daemon to speak,” Arthur decided easily. “That shouldn’t be a problem.”
What Arthur was more concerned about now was hoping that the Gatekeeper would contact him. He was impatient to see him and hopefully find a way to get Merlin out of the situation Arthur put him in.
King Merlin would want to help Merlin, right? They were alternate versions of each other after all. Sure, the king condoned Blakeney’s manipulation of him to betray Merlin, but the fate of all the worlds had been at stake. Arthur hated that the betrayal had to be the solution, but he had done it and there was no going back now.
~ * ~
Fortunately, that evening, the Gatekeeper did come to see Arthur.
When Arthur saw him, he didn’t have to take long to guess the man’s name. “Your name is Lancelot, isn’t it? A man who looks like you and going by that name gave me Excalibur. He must have been an alternate version of you.”
“Yes, you’re right. My name is Lancelot,” he confirmed. “May I sit?” He asked politely. Arthur nodded, waving his hand at the seat across the table. Lancelot admitted, “I’ve never met an alternate version of me. Do you know where he resides?”
Arthur shrugged. “The Lancelot of my world told me that he’s more of a traveler. I only saw him that one time when he handed me Excalibur. That was months ago while I was in exile. I wouldn’t know where he is these days,” he informed the other man. “How did you get through to my world if the gateway is supposed to be closed?” Arthur wondered.
“Gatekeeper’s privileges. Someone always has to have access to all the worlds no matter if there’s a closure to the rest of the population. And just so you know, I was not the Gatekeeper who first started the closure. Another kingdom’s Gatekeeper was to blame. But like the other Gatekeepers, I had to follow the Gatekeeper’s Code. That if one kingdom closes access to one or more worlds, the remaining Gatekeepers must do the same. Otherwise the gatekeeping system would be strained by the extra traffic coming into fewer gateways. That may damage the system badly.”
Arthur sighed. “Fine. I’ll take your word for it. So did you tell King Merlin that I wished to meet with him?”
Lancelot looked apologetic. “I got your message from Sagittarius, yes. I’m sorry, but King Merlin is dealing with a delicate matter at the moment. He can’t see you right now. This is your world and your Camelot after all, and therefore more your responsibility. I’m sure you can handle this situation on your own. You possess Excalibur as well as the ability to drain magic…”
Arthur wondered what sort of delicate matter had gotten King Merlin so busy. Damn him. But he decided it wise not to comment on that point and instead, he went into the other issue at hand. “My ability to drain magic is useless. I can’t use the magic unless a sorcerer incants the awakening spell,” Arthur pointed out, feeling powerless as he spoke. “And it’s not like I have a lot of sorcerers coming here to visit me.”
“At least consider it as an option,” Lancelot suggested to him. “Think about it. You’re clever, I know you are.”
“All right. I will,” Arthur agreed reluctantly.
He caught the significant look that Lancelot was giving him. There was something Arthur was missing. How could his ability to drain magic help him to escape this tower? No magic user had come to see him in the tower and draining someone’s magic wouldn’t help him get past the tower’s magical defenses.
Using Excalibur to escape to a different world was not a preferred option. Well, escaping for good at least since his father still had Merlin. Arthur didn’t put it past his father to retaliate by killing Merlin if he learned of Arthur’s escape.
No. He wouldn’t leave Merlin. If he would escape to a different world, then it had to be with Merlin. And anyway, escaping wouldn’t help to solve the problem of his tyrant of a father ruling Camelot. Arthur needed to solve that problem instead of running away from it.
Before he could think over it further, Lancelot spoke again. “We have your friend Guinevere. She’s doing well, the last I heard. She’s staying with King Merlin’s mother. She’s been in my world since before this closure occurred, of course.”
“I don’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed. I hope she went willingly. Or does King Merlin take all otherworlders without their consent like he did with me?”
“You certainly have an issue with the king,” Lancelot pointed out with a frown. “But no. I was the one who found Guinevere. She was on the run. Your King Uther was looking to kill her due to her closeness to the late Lady Morgana. Guinevere told me that Uther believed that she possessed magic herself. That Lady Morgana may have let her ‘borrow’ some of her magic so that she would be protected. And of course, with your magic ban in this Camelot - that would be enough to get her executed.”
“Wait - my father didn’t tell her he would subdue her daemon because she was allegedly a sorceress?”
Lancelot shook his head. “Just that he sought to kill her.”
“Then he knew that she really didn’t possess magic. He was just providing a reason to kill her. My father would want her dead because he knew she was never going to be on his side. That she would always remain loyal to Morgana even after her death.”
“Otherwise Uther would have had Guinevere’s daemon subdued? To have another magic user under his control?” Lancelot finished.
Arthur nodded. “Yes. And now there are two possible outcomes for sorcerers caught by my father: execution or the subduing of their daemons. Execution would be the more merciful action. To be under his control -- death would be a welcome paradise in comparison.”
“Your Merlin’s daemon has been subdued, right? I understand it cost you a lot to betray him like that.”
“I rather not talk about it. I want to punch someone in the face every time I think about what I did. Merlin will never forgive me for my betrayal. He’d have to be half-mad to even consider forgiving me.”
“I’m sorry to tell you this…but while your betrayal did weaken the forces under the Prince’s command, Merlin has an important role as well. The worlds won’t be saved from the Prince’s threat unless Merlin plays it out.”
Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “What is Merlin’s role? And why didn’t Blakeney tell me about it?”
“Blakeney didn’t tell you most likely because you were only supposed to know your role. Not Merlin’s,” Lancelot explained to him reasonably. “Once Merlin is of his own mind again, he will have to truly forgive you for your betrayal. No mind control, no coercion. He honestly, deep down in his heart, has to forgive you for what you had done.”
“I can’t believe this. Merlin won’t do that. He saw me turn against him. I can’t see him forgiving me. Damnit,” Arthur swore, feeling incredibly frustrated. “I think our talk is over. But I want to be notified when the gateway between our worlds re-opens. Send your phoenix to tell me. I don’t care.”
“All right. Fair enough. But remember: you can drain magic. From someone or something…” Lancelot hinted to him.
After that somewhat helpful advice, Lancelot the Gatekeeper magically disappeared.
“That something could be a structure…” Krola spoke up. She was sitting by Arthur at the table. He didn’t doubt that Krola had been going over all that the Gatekeeper had said while Arthur himself had been speaking to him.
Arthur nodded, understanding what his daemon had deduced. “The tower has strong magical defenses on it. But I haven’t drained magic from a non-living thing before, so I don’t know if it’ll work successfully.”
“There’s a first time for everything. And if you take out the tower’s magic, then it’ll be easier to escape.”
“But this will work best if I could use the magic I’ve drained. I can’t do that without a sorcerer,” Arthur reminded Krola about the plan’s flaw.
Luckily Krola was one step ahead. “Or a sorceress, Arthur,” she pointed out.
Arthur was drawing a blank for a moment before he cottoned on. “Well, tomorrow should certainly be interesting,” he mused.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Krola said.
~ * ~
“I know about the prophecy. You know I’m the orphan. You can’t destroy me. Take me back right now!” The boy demanded. He reflexively played with the flat and thin golden bracelet on his wrist. “And take this bracelet off me too,” he added as an afterthought.
King Merlin sighed. Calmly, he sat down beside the ten year old boy on his cot in the Court Physician’s chambers.
“Then you also must know that you’re another version of me from a different world. And I’m actually glad that you can’t be destroyed. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you had to die based on the words of a prophecy. I promise you that.”
“You’ll be sad if I die?” The orphan asked him skeptically. “My father hates you. He said you can’t stand that I can’t be killed.”
“Well he was lying to you. I only want to protect you,” King Merlin assured him. “Kara?” He called over the Court Physician.
She came to them, a clear vial in her hands. She smiled warmly at the orphan. “Hello. I’m the Court Physician. Can you guess what’s in this vial?”
The boy’s blue eyes narrowed suspiciously, though his face held a curious expression. Kara let him hold the vial which held a golden swirl of energy with an ugly black energy mixing with it.
The boy looked up after his inspection. “It’s my magic of course. The golden bit. The dark part isn’t mine. I don’t know where it came from.”
“Kara found this inside you - what do you prefer I call you? I hear you’re not too fond of being called Merlin. Though it was the name your mother gave you, right?”
The orphan shrugged. “I was too young when my mother died. I’ve just been told that was my birth name. But I don’t want to share a name with a bird. My name is Gwydion.”
Merlin decided that the orphan going by a different name would be best. The boy would feel more like an individual instead of just one world’s version of a person.
“Gwydion you’ll be then,” he acquiesced smoothly. “Back to the matter at hand, Kara here checked your magic to insure all was well with that part of you. Unfortunately, she found this black energy - most likely dark magic - mixed in with it. You may not currently be feeling the adverse effects of this mixing of magic within you, but we fear in the future, it will be poison to you. And you may die. I’m sure you’d want only your own magic inside of you.”
“How did the dark magic get inside of me? You think my father put it in me without me knowing?” Gwydion assumed. He sounded upset.
“Gwydion, he is called the Prince of Darkness for a reason. He may appear to care for you a great deal, but that doesn’t mean he won’t manipulate your magic without your permission. There are some benefits to mixing magic like yours with the essence of dark magic. Your father is using you as a power source, and to boost the strength of your magic, he is injecting dark magic inside of you. Unfortunately, it comes at the cost of your health,” King Merlin intimated to him with concern etched in his tone.
Gwydion looked to be considering. King Merlin felt that the boy was beginning to question the trust he had in his adoptive father, the Prince of Darkness. “I want to see it for myself. Take some of my magic now,” Gwydion commanded.
He held out his arm to the court physician.
“Very well. Are you sure?”
Gwydion nodded. “Yes. You have my permission.”
Kara waved her hand over his forearm and she extracted a sampling of the boy’s magic. Gwydion looked dismayed when he saw foreign dark magic mixing with his own natural golden magic.
“This black magic will hurt me in the future?” Gwydion confirmed.
“Yes. I want to make sure you live a long life, Gwydion. And this dark magic inside you will prevent you from living that life. We can help you fortunately. Kara can remove the dark magic from you - separating it from your own magic. The procedure may hurt a bit…”
“But by the end of it, my child, you’ll only possess the magic you were meant to have,” Kara assured him. “No more ugly dark energy slowly infecting your body. You’ll be able to live a nice, long life. Think of all the great things you can accomplish if you live longer.”
Gwydion looked to be considering her words. “I want you to get rid of the black magic, please,” Gwydion requested, his voice suddenly quiet almost shy. Then he peered at the bracelet on his wrist. “What does this bracelet do?”
“The bracelet will insure you stay in this world for now at least,” the King explained to him. “In the future, I may take it off you. But this is a precautionary measure.”
“So I can still go anywhere in this world - not just remain in Camelot?”
“Yes, that’s right. This world is quite big. I think you’ll be far from bored.”
“What about someone my age?” Gwydion asked.
“Soon we will have a Feast of Gratitude in honour of the god of magic. There will be a number of children your age coming for the feast. You won’t be disappointed.”
“All right. I’m looking forward to it,” said Gwydion with a small smile.
“Now I will leave you with Kara,” King Merlin declared, smiling back at him.
He felt encouraged by Gwydion’s initial progress in moving away from trusting the Prince of Darkness.
~ * ~
Memory was a fragile thing in dreams. Merlin knew his name, of course, and that he had magic - his beautiful magic - he couldn’t imagine living without it. He remembered that his mother’s name was Hunith. Her orange and cream cat daemon, Cieplo, was so clear in his mind. He had many pleasant memories of the male cat’s soothingly familiar presence by his mother’s side.
Before she had settled, Zlota had changed into a kitten quite a few times to play with Cieplo. Often, Merlin recalled Zlota as a kitten pestering Cieplo with her exuberance, but luckily his mother’s daemon took the playfulness as calmly as his mother would with Merlin.
Zlota was now perched on his shoulder as a scarlet-gold phoenix - always and forever a presence of comfort to him. She was the one thing he could count on now. He had no doubt about that.
In this dream, Merlin finally felt free, free to think for himself, free to do what he wished.
But he couldn’t quite recall why this freedom was so important, so cherished to him at this moment.
What had happened? Why did he feel like he had been so terribly thirsty and now, only now, in this quiet beauty of his dream forest, could he finally drink the water he so desired?
Merlin sighed, relishing his stay in the peaceful forest. He went to sit down by an old oak tree. “Stay with me, Zlota. Something’s wrong, I think,” he said quietly.
Merlin wished he knew what was wrong.
“I think you’re right,” Zlota commented. She left his shoulder and settled down by his hip. Merlin swept his hand over her feathery body and he felt his worry ease as he clung to the closeness of his beloved Zlota.
Merlin put his head back so that it touched the hard bark of the tree.
“Do you remember a castle? There was a particular one, but I can’t recall much else about it…” Merlin admitted hopelessly.
“The castle was a dangerous place,” Zlota acknowledged grimly.
Merlin nodded. “Yes. It still is,” he said, though he wasn’t sure why he thought that. How would he know? He didn’t even know where this castle was located in the first place.
Then their musings were interrupted by a little white wolf pup wandering toward them. It was strange to see such a young wolf pup without its mother nearby.
Merlin was surprised at himself for his deep hatred against this seemingly innocent small creature.
Yet he almost didn’t care why he felt such a sharp dislike toward the wolf pup. All that mattered now was to make the creature leave. This was Merlin’s territory and the wolf pup was trespassing.
The animal needed to pay.
“Zlota,” Merlin said simply and he knew that Zlota was well aware of what he was asking of her. She was a part of Merlin after all.
Merlin wasn’t expecting Zlota to transform into a dragon - one that was only a little bigger than the wolf pup. But then again, this was a dream and such odd things could happen in dreams.
He smiled as the now dragon-shaped Zlota let out her fire-breath and thoroughly burned the unsuspecting wolf pup to death.
The white wolf pup never had a chance up against a dragon.
Merlin thought that this dream was a good one as he observed the ashes left over from the kill.
Zlota had done a commendable job.
~ * ~
Arthur woke up the next morning to Krola whining. She was anxious about something.
“What is it?” Arthur asked her.
His wolf daemon was watching the door to his tower room as if the door would attack.
“I think Hunith is here. And I doubt she’s happy with you,” Krola intimated, sounding uneasy.
“How do you know--?”
“I caught her scent… she’s definitely close. I don’t know who brought her here, but she’s in the tower. And she’s looking to speak to you.”
“Or yell at me. Krola, I don’t know what to do. Anything I say to her…how can I justify what I did? Merlin’s her son, her only son. She’s not going to listen to reason. Hunith certainly won’t easily accept that her own son was a ‘necessary sacrifice.’”
“She may not even give you a chance to explain,” Krola added unhelpfully.
Arthur covered his face in his hands. “I’m dead,” he declared in resignation.
The door to the room opened with an ominous creak. Merlin’s mother entered the rounded room with her orange and cream cat daemon, Cieplo, at her heels.
In any other situation, Arthur thought it would be amusing that Krola was so afraid of Hunith and her cat daemon’s wrath that she kept close to Arthur and whined softly. The wolf-daemon looked ready to dive under the bed. A wolf frightened of a cat? It just didn’t happen - at least with true creatures. Daemons were a different matter entirely.
Especially now, Arthur could understand Krola’s fear as he was feeling that same way himself. He tried to hide the ill feeling as best as he could, but it wasn’t easy. This whole predicament was a nightmare.
“I have been told of what you have done, what you have brought on to my son,” Hunith said stiffly, her voice trembling a bit from emotion.
She remained standing - quite possibly not wanting to stay there any longer than she had to, Arthur thought grimly.
“Hunith, you have to understand…” Arthur tried to get through to her, feeling like pleading would be the only way.
Hunith gave him a displeased look. “I don’t know what to think. Here you are locked up as King Uther’s prisoner, it seems, and yet you did exactly what your father wanted. You brought a sorcerer - my son - to him. You condemned my son to have his free will taken away, to be forced under unwilling command because of your father’s blind crusade. What am I to make of your intentions? I can’t believe anything you say or any other claims that you’re still the man I trusted with my son. I can only go by what has happened. And I swear--”
“Hunith, I wouldn’t have done that to Merlin if there wasn’t another choice. The destruction of all the worlds is at stake!” Arthur argued.
“You do not interrupt me,” she said sharply.
“Yes. I’m sorry,” Arthur said quickly. Krola looked worried, still whining quietly.
Hunith’s daemon hissed and bared his teeth.
“I’m sure you have a very good reason, Arthur. And maybe you felt like you had no choice and decided to take my son down with you. I hope you do feel miserable. No matter how noble your motivation may have been, you still betrayed him,” she told him, her unyielding tone of voice leaving Arthur little room, he felt to persuade her to trust him again.
She continued on before Arthur could even think of the right words to say. “I want him back, and once he is well and free of this wretched spell, I don’t want him anywhere near you. Understood? I don’t care if you swear that you’ll never harm him again - I won’t believe you. Though Merlin is grown, I’m still his mother and I reserve the right to decide whose company he’s in. I’m certain he’ll agree with me after realizing the terrible thing you did to him.”
Arthur sighed. “I promise you, Hunith. I will save Merlin, and if you wish, I’ll make sure that he is far away from me. Though I can’t promise that I won’t visit him.”
“As long as you aren’t alone with him,” Hunith allowed reluctantly. “Someone needs to be supervising the both of you. No exceptions. It will take me a while to ever trust you again, Arthur. Now I have been told about this World of Magic…”
“By who?” Arthur wondered.
“By this young woman named Ophelia. She had a startling appearance, I have to say. She told me about this other world that is friendly to magic users. The World of Magic doesn’t condemn them as your father so hatefully does here. And she told me about that world’s Camelot.”
Arthur wasn’t sure what Hunith had meant by a startling appearance. Ophelia had looked rather ordinary - besides her peculiar unsettled daemon, there wasn’t anything particularly striking about her. But he decided this wasn’t the time to discuss it. He would deal with the matter when or if he saw Ophelia again.
“That Camelot is ruled by an alternate version of Merlin,” Arthur pointed out.
Hunith nodded. “My son will be sent there once he is free. A place that respects his magical nature is the best place for him. That’s what I want.”
“For how long? He can’t stay there forever,” Arthur argued a bit weakly. He didn’t have the strength to get into a conflict with Merlin’s mother. It simply wasn’t worth it when he knew that he was in the wrong and she had every right to have her wishes abided by. “This world is still Merlin’s world - magic ban or not,” he reminded her.
“Until you do your duty and lift this ban on magic in Camelot. I want you to do the right thing,” Hunith bade of him. “Make the people of Camelot see that magic is good, and to make this kingdom safe for those who possess magic again. Until then, my son will remain in the other world.”
“Very well. I will do what I can,” Arthur assured her quietly. “I am sorry for what I did to Merlin. I can’t imagine how you must feel now, but know that I feel awful about it. I’ve never felt worse as I do now,” he confided in her.
Merlin’s mother only gave him a look. “I just want my son safe,” she said and then she departed from the room, carrying her cat daemon in her arms.
Arthur was somewhat relieved to have that encounter over with, but he certainly didn’t feel any better than he had before Hunith had come.
If anything, he felt even more miserable. If that were even possible. The best plan to undertake now, Arthur concluded, was rescuing Merlin from Uther’s control. And insuring Merlin was in a safe place.
Though it hurt him deeply, Arthur knew he had to accept that maybe now, Merlin would be happiest as far away from Arthur as possible.
~ * ~
“So you brought Merlin’s mother here so she could speak to me,” Arthur began when Ophelia entered his room a few hours later. Her white mouse rested on her shoulder.
“You don’t sound too happy about it.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Arthur said in an undisguised sarcastic tone of voice. “Who are you really? Did King Merlin send you? You do know about the closure, right? Not the best timing.”
“The closure issue will be resolved,” Ophelia assured him, sounding quite confident on the matter. “And yes,” she admitted. “King Merlin did request to have me here to help you, if you should require it.”
Arthur raised his brow. “But you’re a--”
“A Lady?” Ophelia finished for him with a frown. “I would have you know that in my clan, both men and women are treated as equals. I will inherit my family’s wealth without need for marriage because my parents decided not to try for a boy after my younger sister Celeste was born. And that is perfectly acceptable in my clan. Women can fight just as well as you lot.”
“Right,” Arthur agreed a little shakily.
Ophelia’s piercing gaze caused him to decide it best not to disagree with her. But he had wanted to say that, of course, if you possessed magic like Ophelia did than it was logical that this sort of equality could come about. After all, requiring the strength to wield a sword was much different than being learned in magic where physical strength wasn’t as important. Except he wouldn’t say that in front of Ophelia. After all, it wasn’t his business and he really needed her magical assistance, so it wouldn’t be wise to turn an ally into a foe by arguing with her. “You’re nobility then? The servant bit is a disguise?”
“Yes to both questions. My name is truly Lady Ophelia,” she acknowledged. “I decided it was easier to slip in and out as a servant.”
Krola spoke up then, peering at her daemon. “So the mouse isn’t your daemon?”
She shook her head. “No, my soul is inside. My Char here is actually a dragon. We nobility in the World of Magic usually have specialized dragons. Char here can change size in his dragon form as well as turn into a different creature. Mind you, not any creature -- there is a limit. He can only turn into a mouse at the moment. I don’t know if he’ll manage another animal, but you’re quite fond of your mouse form, aren’t you, Char?” Ophelia asked her dragon affectionately.
“Yes I am,” Char said cheerfully. He was playing with a strand of Ophelia’s hair.
Arthur was frankly surprised that a dragon would ever prefer to be a mouse of all creatures. But far be it for him to understand the eccentricities of dragons.
“Could I see his true form?” Arthur asked in curiosity. “As a small dragon. I’ve only seen a big dragon. Never a smaller one.”
Ophelia asked Char if he would transform into a dragon, but he declined. According to him, he just ‘didn’t feel like it.’
Then Char scurried down her body and ran under the bed.
Ophelia sighed. “I’m sorry about that. Char has his moods. I think he’d just rather stay a mouse now. Maybe some other time.”
“Is there anything else you need to tell me? You said you had a cousin, Bran? Were you lying about him?”
“Oh no. I didn’t lie to you about my family. I really do have an eleven year old relative named Bran. He’s probably the most level-headed boy you’ll ever meet. Of course, I am partial to him as he’s kin, so don’t take my word for it,” she confided in him with a small smile. Then she beckoned Char. “Charmont, come back here,” she ordered him firmly.
Char heeded her words and came out from under the bed. “I was going to come out soon,” he said defensively, sounding a bit like a petulant child. “Your wolf daemon is very big,” Char told Arthur. Arthur thought that from a mouse’s perspective, then yes, Krola would appear rather big. “Impressive too.”
“Thank you,” Krola responded to the mouse, unsure how else to take Char’s rather awestruck compliment.
It was especially funny coming from a creature whose original form was a dragon. Krola had to admit that she would be easily overlooked if it were a comparison between her and a dragon.
“There’s something I should show you,” Ophelia declared. “Maybe it’d be best if you sit down? It is shocking to witness for the first time.”
“I’ll remain standing,” Arthur said stubbornly. “What - are you truly an odd-looking magical creature who is wearing a disguise?” He guessed.
“Oh no. I am still human. And I wouldn’t say I look odd. At least I hope you wouldn’t think that…” she said slightly uneasily.
Arthur had his eyes trained on her. He waved his hand. “Well then. Just show me. I can handle whatever it is.”
Ophelia gave him a sharp look, but she proceeded nevertheless. Her disguise fell away. Before Arthur was still a young woman but she had very white hair and skin and it was certainly a startling appearance to take in all at once. The one thing that remained the same was her pale green eyes.
“My younger cousin, Bran, has tawny-golden eyes. He looks more startling than me if you can imagine.”
“Wait. He has the same pale colouring? All your family and relatives do?”
Ophelia nodded. “Yes. Most of them have very similar colouring. Those born into the White Diamond Clan, that is.”
“I think the Prince of Darkness mentioned you, this Clan…said you fight like the bastards of the gods.”
“Yes he doesn’t like us because we’re remarkable fighters. That truth infuriates the Prince.”
“I got that impression,” Arthur told her. “If you’re here to aid me, then I could really use your assistance now. I need to drain this tower of its magic so I can escape it. And I need you, as a magic user, to awaken the magic within me after the draining.”
“You would need magic to make a quick escape,” she agreed. “From what I can tell, this tower is held up by magic and once you drain it --”
“The tower will crumble,” Arthur concluded.
“Yes. But be forewarned that you must release all the magic within you as soon as you escape the tower. It is a lot of magic to hold inside one person and that kind of magical energy could very likely kill you. The magic in this tower is much, much greater than even the magic your Merlin possesses. So you can understand the risk you’re taking here.”
“I’m willing to take it if this path will lead me one step closer to saving Merlin. Where must I release the magic?”
“Back to nature where all magic originates. The mother goddess and the god of magic will both be pleased for your offering.”
“King Merlin talked about the mother goddess and her involvement in causing the plague in your world,” Arthur noted.
Ophelia gave a small nod. “No one in my world is absolutely certain who caused the plague. It is regrettable that it happened, but I personally am not sure why the plague was unleashed. After all, the ways of the gods and goddesses are not easily discerned. The mother goddess had to have a good reason to set a plague to kill the non-magic users of our world. But I have heard whispers that those who were unfortunately killed in the tragic turn of events were reincarnated. Reborn as humans again in another world entirely or as creatures, so some good came out of the catastrophe.”
“That helps a little. But that’s horrible if the mother goddess decided to go to such terrible lengths… I’ve always thought the gods and goddesses were more moral than that.”
“I suppose they make their mistakes as we humans are wont to do. I am just as dismayed as you, but what is done is done. The World of Magic has been permanently altered. Now we should focus on what we - you - can change.”
“Rescuing Merlin,” Arthur said with a nod.
“Yes. I really should go now. You should think carefully about what you are about to do. Draining the amount of magic you’ll be draining at one time is not something to be done lightly. You should get plenty of rest as well. I shall return tomorrow.”
“I rather save Merlin as soon as possible,” Arthur argued.
“I know, I understand your impatience, but when Merlin’s himself again, I doubt he’ll like it if you died trying to save him. You need to undertake the task ahead of you seriously and patiently… I want to make sure you survive the ordeal as much as I want you to rescue your Merlin. So please, take heed of my advice.”
Arthur sighed. “All right. I don’t like waiting, but you’re the sorceress here. I’ll follow your advice.”
“Thank you, Arthur Pendragon,” Ophelia said graciously to him.
~ * ~
Morgan entered Gwydion’s room late the next day. “Hello. I’m Morgan. I work in the castle, primarily as a performer - a dancer, that is, but I help out where I can. My mum always said I was a bit of a free spirit,” she said conspiratorially.
“Hi,” said Gwydion, unable to suppress a smile.
“King Merlin thought it’d be good for me to meet you,” Morgan informed him.
He peered at her purple eyes. “You know about the Immortals, don’t you? Most had purple eyes just like you. Are you descended from them?”
“I don’t know that,” Morgan admitted. “It’s a bit of a family myth. The Immortals used to live in every world, but then they were persecuted…”
“-- because their blood was powerful and useful for many magical spells. People went after them to bleed them out,” Gwydion contributed with great interest. “To get as much of their blood as they can.”
“Yes,” Morgan acknowledged with a smile. “Luckily, they were able to get the coveted support of the gods. They gave the Immortals their own safe, protected world to live in.”
“And then the Immortals faded away into myth and legend,” Gwydion concluded with a sad sigh. “Pity they were persecuted. I’d love to meet one. They were known to be very wise, weren’t they?”
Morgan nodded. “Yes. But there is an extensive library here in the castle. You could gain quite a lot of knowledge by reading books. Oh, then again, you’re just a child. What am I saying? You should enjoy your youth and play outside. It will pass you by before you know it.”
“I like to read,” Gwydion declared almost defiantly.
“Good trait to have for someone your age. I’m impressed,” she said.
The boy looked to be considering something, and then with a small nod to himself, he went to his desk and pulled out the parchment he had been drawing on. “I could use an opinion on what I’ve drawn,” he told her.
“You’re quite a talented artist,” Morgan praised the boy. And she truly meant it. The quality of the drawing was at the level of a master artist. Gwydion certainly possessed a talent at the arts. “This is a beautifully drawn knife. Could you tell me about it?” Morgan asked of him.
She’d noticed how the boy’s face had lit up when she had complimented him on the knife drawing.
Gwydion bit his lip uncertainly. “Are you really interested?” He asked her.
Morgan gave him a warm look. “Yes. I’m here to listen and I admit I’m quite intrigued. I’m assuming it’s a special knife?”
“That’s right,” Gwydion confirmed, the pride in his voice unmistakable. “But the knife doesn’t exist yet. I’m hoping to make it. You know how there’s that one sword, Excalibur, that can be used as means of travel between worlds? But what makes the sword even more special is that it’s also a fighting weapon without being damaged in the process. A sword like that is a feat of magical achievement. I heard it was difficult, nearly impossible, to forge a sword that will be strong enough to survive battles but also be delicate enough to open windows into other worlds.”
“Yes, of course. And Excalibur is currently possessed by someone not of this world,” Morgan pointed out, and a moment later, she cottoned on to what Gwydion was planning. “You want to make a knife with the same capabilities as Excalibur? Is that it? If you know of Excalibur, then you know the great amount of magic and sheer skill that is required to fashion such a weapon.”
“Do you know anyone who has successfully made a knife in the style of Excalibur?”
She frowned. “There are stories of unsuccessful attempts,” she informed him. “Sorcerers who were expert blacksmiths have faced defeat in trying to do the almost impossible. Like you said yourself, it’s nearly impossible, Gwydion.”
“But it can’t hurt to try,” Gwydion said firmly, sounding determined. “It may take time, I know that. But I have my whole life ahead of me. I know how powerful I am. I’m Merlin after all no matter the dislike of my birth name. I can feel the magic inside of me - and I just know I was meant to make this knife. It would be perfect. A knife is smaller than a sword and that leaves a concealment charm unnecessary. It’s easier to hide from enemies…”
“What about the knife’s true wielder? If the knife will be anything like Excalibur, then only one person should be able to wield it. That is, the right person, to ensure such a powerful weapon is protected from those who seek to abuse its capabilities. Would that be you?”
The orphan shook his head. “I’m only interested in making it. I don’t know who will be the knife’s true wielder. I don’t think I’ve met that person yet,” he admitted thoughtfully.
He had a faraway look on his face as he turned his attention to his knife drawing. Morgan guessed that he was wondering about that unknown person who could one day wield this knife. He shook his head quickly when she put her hand gently on his shoulder. Gwydion shrugged and smiled at her softly. “That’s the exciting part - finding out who the mystery owner would be. At least I think so. I’m hoping to call the knife, ‘Gwydion’s Knife’…so that others will remember who the maker will be.”
“You have high ambitions for a ten-year old,” Morgan noted. “I say if you have the passion for this knife, then you should pursue the challenge. But it would be good to discuss the matter with King Merlin. I’m sure he’d love to hear about the knife.”
Gwydion frowned slightly. He didn’t look particularly happy about confiding in the King.
“Gwydion, you know some people would love to have the chance to speak to another version of themselves. King Merlin only wants to help you, to insure your happiness.”
“He said that he didn’t want to harm me,” he relayed to her, sounding uncertain and doubtful of the King’s words.
Morgan smiled. “You should ask him about The Code of The Otherworlders. One part of the Code is to not directly harm another version of oneself. Of course the King follows this Code. Therefore, you should rest assured that you will be safe in this world. Even without the Code, it is considered taboo to hurt your other self from another world. Remember that.”
Gwydion appeared thoughtful, and then he nodded. He seemed to be persuaded by Morgan’s sincerity.
“All right. I’ll talk to King Merlin,” he agreed.
~ * ~
“Is this really necessary?” King Merlin asked wearily of King Draco Wolfsbane. “Those of the Daemon World are not soul-less because their souls are outside their bodies. And the animal souls are not wild animals. It is no reason for this closure you ordered.”
“I expected that you would say that, Merlin, but I’d like to see the proof for myself. And since you and your Queen insisted on being here, I think it would be well-advised to have a witness.”
Queen Freya spoke up in mild disdain. “I do hope you plan to re-open the gateway between our world and the Daemon World. I must tell you it isn’t fair for you to have done such a closure based on your misconception.”
“I am truly sorry, My Lady. I still am firm on seeking proof, though I am not against lifting the closure once I gain the information I need.”
Freya frowned, and Merlin squeezed her shoulder to help in calming her down.
Merlin nodded at the fellow King. “You may proceed.”
King Draco motioned to the servant by the door, and the man bowed out of the room. A moment later, he brought in a brunette boy of about eight years of age. His blue-green eyes were wide in obvious worry. An unsettled daemon in the shape of a small puppy was cradled in the boy’s arms. The boy looked nervous.
“You brought in a boy from the Daemon World?” Merlin asked in dismay.
“I heard what you did with the orphan,” said the other King in an accusing tone.
“I was following the Code,” King Merlin argued.
King Draco waved his hand. “Yes, of course, if you allow for some flexibility. Now I am not against what you did, but I’m sure you’re aware that your actions will incite the Prince’s anger?”
“Of course. I’m aware of that,” he acknowledged grimly.
“Enough of the Prince of Darkness. We could discuss him all day if we wished. I think it best that we return to the matter at hand. What is your name, my dear child?” Freya asked the boy from the Daemon World.
“Declan,” the boy addressed her in a shy voice.
“We shall begin, My Lady,” King Draco announced.
He waved at his servant who looked a bit unhappy to be granted the task he was about to carry out.
The servant forcibly took the now mouse daemon from the boy’s hands and he left the room. A great change came over the boy. His face fell and he cried out in anguish for his daemon as if he were dying and needed someone to rescue him. Yet a magical spell kept him rooted to the spot.
“End this now,” Freya demanded only moments later.
The reason for her urgent demand was clear. Not only had the boy been stricken with emotional trauma, but King Merlin had gone deathly pale as well. His hands were tightly gripping the arms of the chair as if his life was depending on it.
Merlin just managed to speak out, “My empathic abilities…”
King Draco appeared alarmed, and upon snapping his fingers, the servant returned into the room. He returned the daemon back to the child.
King Draco apologized, “I am sorry. I did not realize you would be so affected by the separation. I had forgotten your mother’s empathic talents that you inherited.”
“I want to go home,” the boy said plaintively. He warily stared at each of them in turn.
Clearly, the child distrusted them after being parted from his daemon.
Color was coming back to King Merlin’s face upon the boy regaining his daemon. He appeared to be able to breathe again while his empathic abilities weren’t wearing down on him anymore.
Freya stood up and cautiously approached the anxious boy. She smiled warmly at him. The boy’s daemon - which had remained a mouse - was now a very alert yellow bird that couldn’t stay still on the child’s shoulder.
Careful not to touch the bird, Freya placed her hand on his other shoulder. She spoke softly to the boy, “Do not worry, Declan. You shall return home, I assure you. No one will take your daemon from you from this moment forward. I will make sure of it. What is her name?” She asked him.
“My name is Melisande,” the female daemon answered her. She moved up and down the boy’s shoulder, her little talons clutching the boy’s shirt underneath her.
“It’s nice to meet you, Melisande,” said Freya kindly.
Merlin smiled to himself as his wife helped to ease the scared boy’s mind.
“I think, Declan, that you could do with a good rest,” Merlin decided. “It must have been a stressful day for you, my boy. When you wake up, you will be home again.”
Declan gave the smallest of smiles, his uneasiness with his predicament showing through. “Sleep sounds nice. I miss my mum.”
Freya smiled at him, and then assured him that he would be with his mum again soon. She silently incanted a spell to put the nervous child under a peaceful, dreamless slumber. The boy and his daemon both fell asleep upon a pile of soft blankets and a pillow that Freya magically procured as well.
“My empathic magic has never overwhelmed me in such a way before,” Merlin explained to his wife and King Draco afterwards. His tone was still somewhat breathless as he continued to recover from the emotional shock he had felt from Declan. “The connection between the boy Declan and his daemon-soul is inconceivably strong.”
Freya granted the other King an unyielding look. “Is this proof enough? I insist - and my husband does as well - that you re-open the gateway between our world and the Daemon World.”
“Based on what I experienced, I can inform you with great certainty that those of the other world in question are as human as we are,” Merlin intimated to King Draco. “And we shouldn’t look down upon them because they don’t have their souls within them or that they may not be as magically advanced as our world.”
King Draco Wolfsbane nodded. “I will call for the re-opening. I have my proof. I do regret that you were in pain, Merlin. I hope you won’t hold it against me.”
“It was an accident,” King Merlin acknowledged. “You didn’t intend for it. I understand.”
“Very good. I am glad for that. I will return the boy to his world as soon as I can,” King Draco declared.
Freya spoke up, “I shall stay here to calm the boy and insure his return goes pleasantly. I hope you do not mind, Wolfsbane.”
“Not at all. Perhaps a female touch will be just the thing,” King Draco decided reasonably.
Freya convinced Merlin that he should return back to Camelot ahead of her. He had had a harrowing experience and he really should recuperate back at home. Merlin reminded her that she was the one who was pregnant, but Freya reassured him that she felt just fine.
~ * ~
Chapter 6b