Paperlegends: The Raven Knife (1)
Masterpost
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 & Epilogue
A pretty plot for fairy tales, Sire. But in real life, oh, no. No, it was foredoomed to failure.
~ Grand Duke (Disney’s Cinderella (1950))
~ * ~
There are more worlds in existence than one person can fathom. One world has its population born with their souls outside of their bodies, in animal forms called daemons. Another world consists of a completely magical population. There is even a world that fairy tale characters call home. Some people have alternate versions of themselves in other worlds. It was believed that the greatest sorcerer of all time, Merlin, had the most versions of himself across the worlds.
One orphaned Merlin who was also a half-god was determined to rise above his alternate selves and be unique. Though he could not change his physical likeness to the other Merlins, he did the next best thing. He changed his name to Gwydion, and he was ever-after acknowledged by that name.
Inspired by a world’s Excalibur, - one King Arthur’s sword that cut openings into other worlds to allow for travel between them - Gwydion made a knife that did the same. The accomplishment forever distinguished him from his other selves. This special knife was immortalized as the Raven Knife.
Centuries pass. The Merlin first born into the world of animal souls is reincarnated into a different world. From that same daemon world, the Arthur who once wielded the Raven Knife-inspiring Excalibur is reborn alongside Merlin.
Unaware of their past lives, Merlin and Arthur lead an ordinary existence as a couple. But soon that is all about to change.
~ * ~
2011
~ * ~
This time was different. Amidst one of his frustratingly common anxiety attacks, Merlin witnessed a scene unlike any he’d experienced before.
Sitting in a room, there was a man who resembled Merlin himself. Yet he had a beard and on his head rested a crown. His medieval style clothing was fit for a king. Merlin figured that he probably was one.
Another man appeared in the room as if he came out of thin air. He looked furious.
But what first caught Merlin’s attention was the blond man’s appearance. He shared a remarkable physical resemblance with Arthur. Yet his eyes were a desolate black down to the whites of his eyes. The effect unnerved Merlin. Was this blond man a demon?
He couldn’t help but think of all the movies and shows dealing with demonic characters. The very sight of this Arthur look-a-like set Merlin on edge. Merlin decided to call the man with the dark eyes ‘Arthur’ because his instincts led him to believe that was the man’s name. Yet Merlin thought that he could never be on friendly terms with the conceivably demonic man. He’d never address him as Arthur so familiarly.
“You’ve kidnapped my son!” the dark-eyed Arthur raged.
“Gwydion is another world’s version of me. You may have been his adoptive father for the past ten years of his life, but the law still holds. I have a greater right to him than you do as he and I are the same person based on the --”
“To hell with the Code! So you finally care about him. Where were you the last ten years? Now here you are. I don’t doubt that you’ve manipulated him against me, his own father!”
“You cannot deny what you were doing to him,” the King said sharply. “Injecting dangerous, dark magic inside him that would shorten his lifespan. All so you could use him as a power source without his knowledge or permission. And you are a fine one to talk about manipulation. You abused his dying mother’s trust, saying that you would look after Gwydion upon her death. The poor woman died in childbirth not knowing that she gave her child off to the likes of you.” His words were like a whip as he laid out the accusation.
Arthur’s look-a-like approached the table and tapped one rigid finger on the shined surface. “Gwydion’s mother would have been grateful, Your Majesty,” he said fiercely, a touch of bitterness at the end when he spoke the honorific. “I insured that Gwydion was not raised as a village simpleton as he would have been if he had stayed in Ealdor. I made sure he understood the importance of learning, that he wanted to learn. That knowledge was power, and that was the greatest weapon he could ever attain. Even greater than his magical talents. You should be thanking me for giving him a foundation of being learned as well as being practiced in magic.”
“You did all that to disguise your true motives for the boy. You intentionally took him to spite me,” the King declared.
“You can’t just admit that I have a point. No matter the dark magic, Gwydion owes a lot to me. He would have been nothing without me, you know that, but you refuse to acknowledge it.”
“Did you grow to care for him? Truly?”
The man looked unaffected, almost annoyed with the question. “What does it matter?”
“You could have the affliction.”
“I do not,” the pseudo Arthur argued fiercely.
“Maybe if things had been different for us, we could have been friends…” the King ventured idly.
The dark-eyed Arthur’s face twisted in obvious disgust. “We’re better off as enemies. Gwydion rejected his true name. That must tell you something.”
“Yes. You’re trying too hard.”
“Just know that whatever I do, it will be on your head. You stole Gwydion from me, and I won’t sit by quietly without getting my just revenge,” Arthur’s look-a-like vowed.
Upon this declaration, the other Arthur vanished in a cloud of dark smoke and lightning.
The scene faded away on the King’s concerned expression. Then Merlin felt something licking his own face.
Lux.
Merlin couldn’t help but be cheered by his puppy’s unyielding affection. After he sat up in bed, he grabbed the white Lhasa Apso puppy and moved him away from his face. He loved Lux, of course, but there was only so much dog slobber he could take on his face.
He hugged Lux to his chest, soothed by the dog’s presence. Pointedly, Merlin avoided Arthur’s wary gaze upon him.
“Are you all right? Give me your wrist,” Arthur requested of him, his tone brooking no argument.
Merlin sighed. “Arthur, I’m fine. You shouldn’t worry.”
But he still offered his wrist to Arthur. He checked Merlin’s pulse like he always did. Merlin knew he was making sure that his pulse had slowed down from its increased rhythm during his anxiety attacks. Merlin had to admit that the sweat now on him was rather uncomfortable. He had been ready to go to sleep when the anxiety attack hit. And now he felt like he had to take another shower with all the sweat he’d perspired during the incident.
Arthur let go of his wrist. “You seem to be fine,” he indicated, though Merlin could see the doubt in Arthur’s eyes.
Once, Arthur had told him that he couldn’t simply accept Merlin’s condition when there was no concrete explanation for why Merlin was contending with the attacks. Nothing that would give way to episodes of overwhelming anxiety.
Ever since he and Arthur had become engaged six months ago, Arthur’s persistence was rather frustrating for Merlin. Arthur wanted Merlin to get his anxiety attacks treated via medication or regular appointments with a psychiatrist. But Merlin had steadfastly refused the suggestions.
True, he didn’t like the anxiety attacks. More often than not, he wished he’d never have them, but he’d always felt there was a reason why he suffered through them. Merlin was still able to live a normal life since the attacks only affected him at home a few times a week. The condition never debilitated him after each attack. He always recovered. Sometimes he wondered if he suffered this condition because of something he had lost. And during each anxiety attack, he was being reminded of this loss.
But of course, Merlin couldn’t remember what he had lost. He desperately hoped that witnessing that scene was a start in unraveling this mystery.
“Merlin, I don’t understand. This can’t be coming out of nowhere,” Arthur confided in him, straightforward and to the point. “I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I’d feel better if you do something about the attacks. You can’t live your life like this. What if one day these anxiety attacks affect your daily life in a very bad way? You can’t expect to be lucky all the time.”
“I have been lucky,” Merlin said self-assuredly. He stroked Lux behind the ears as he spoke. “And I’ll continue to be lucky. I promise, Arthur, nothing will happen. Maybe I’ve just jinxed myself,” Merlin remarked with a small smile. “But I’m confident these anxiety attacks will be a minor nuisance, nothing more. Hopefully they’ll stop altogether in the near future. You never know.”
Arthur gave him a doubtful look. “So no childhood traumas I don’t know about?”
Merlin couldn’t keep from groaning. He rubbed his brow. “You know everything,” Merlin assured him.
Though he realized that he hadn’t told Arthur yet about the odd scene he had observed during his anxiety episode.
Merlin wasn’t too happy about keeping something from Arthur, but he doubted it was a good idea to confide in Arthur about the vision. He could barely wrap his head around it himself. Merlin didn’t doubt that Arthur would dismiss it as one bizarre dream.
He couldn’t just tell someone - even Arthur - and have the person take it seriously. Though the argument centered around the kidnapping of a child intrigued Merlin. He felt that once upon a time, he knew who exactly this child, this boy, was.
Or his imagination could just be running away from him. So soon after anxiety attack, it was understandable.
“Right, so let’s go over it again…” Arthur began.
“Will I be quizzed after?” Merlin retorted easily.
“We’ll see,” he replied. “Now your mother raised you as your father died of cancer before you were born. And you had a relatively normal childhood. Though I can’t forget your family being bird enthusiasts. Your mum has a falconer’s license, doesn’t she?”
“Yes she does,” Merlin confirmed. “She just got a Merlin falcon last week actually. Said she missed having a Merlin around.”
Arthur let out a laugh.
Merlin pointedly didn’t rise to the bait. “Anyway, she named the bird Belle.”
Arthur nodded, pretending to appear solemn but failing miserably.
They sat in silence for a few long moments. Merlin petted Lux thoughtfully, wondering why the dog was still very awake. Did he ever sleep?
“I could use a cold shower about now,” Merlin told him.
Arthur nodded. “Go ahead.”
Smiling at him quietly, Merlin left their bedroom and retreated to the en suite bathroom as quickly as he could. Lux looked ready to follow him inside.
“No, Lux, stay. All right?” Merlin attempted to coax him.
Arthur commented, “The way he acts, it’s a surprise you got him only a few months ago. Lux is one overly affectionate dog.”
Merlin gave Arthur a sardonic look. “Yeah, yeah. Nevermind Lux, what about Cavall when he was a puppy? He was just as bad from what you told me.”
“Oh low blow,” Arthur joked, letting the matter slide.
Merlin couldn’t help but chuckle.
He shut the bathroom door, Lux’s pleading whines carrying through, and he took a moment to look at the mirror. He thought about how he had never known his father. It just wasn’t the same with his mum just telling him about his father.
Merlin knew now that she was focusing on the positive things about him. It was understandable why as it was easier, nicer, to recall the good things about someone after their death. But Merlin always felt that his father was a puzzle missing half its pieces. He couldn’t help but wonder about what he was like overall, what made him tick. Would he have got on well with his father now if he had lived?
Shaking his head, he realized he hadn’t really been looking at the mirror, so lost in his own contemplations as he had been. Yet now, when he finally was peering at the mirror’s surface properly, he almost gasped in shock to see an image of a scarlet and gold phoenix reflected on the clear surface.
Merlin had seen this mythical bird several times throughout his life in all sorts of places. Sometimes, the bird had even slipped into his dreams. There was something strangely familiar about this phoenix, but usually he figured that of course, he’d be seeing magical birds. His name was ‘Merlin’ after all. It was just another weird thing associated with him.
And yet…this time was different. Like observing that scene amidst his anxiety attack. Seeing the phoenix now held an even more important meaning to him.
Big changes were coming. Merlin could feel it.
Then to Merlin’s surprise, the phoenix shifted form into a firefly; the glow of the firefly was brighter than even the light from the lamp fixtures in the bathroom.
That had never happened. If Merlin had been doubtful before, then now he felt positive that something was afoot. There was a reason why this phoenix had changed form, why he had witnessed that scene between the black-eyed man and the King. Something, someone was telling him to pay attention. Especially now.
What if this phoenix was what he had lost? Was that why he had been plagued with these anxiety attacks all his life?
But then why hadn’t he thought of that before? After seeing that scarlet-gold phoenix throughout his life, Merlin felt slow for not making the connection sooner. It was only now that he had that light bulb moment.
He splashed some cool water on his face. An idea came to him. Should he visit that house across the street? The reportedly haunted house had been vacant even before he and Arthur had moved two years ago to this Oxford suburb of Headington.
A young girl, Susan Williams, had been climbing the tree in the backyard of the house and she had fallen to her death.
Soon after, her parents had moved out of the residence, unable to remain in the same place their little girl had died. Merlin had been told by the neighbors who had known the family that Susan had been good at climbing trees. That it was quite strange that she had died doing an activity she had experience with. The stories then usually shifted to a belief that the tree had to have been cursed. Those who believed in the supernatural swore up and down that being near that tree gave them an eerie, spooky feeling. Then all that talk eventually led to people deciding that the whole house must be haunted. It was no good living there because you might as well be living with a demonic spirit. That’s about as safe as it was.
Merlin recalled the black-eyed - possibly demonic -- man who’d looked like Arthur in his vision. That had to be a sign. It had to be. Strange things were beginning to occur - with the vision and the phoenix reappearing and turning into a firefly for the first time. Far be it for him not to press on with his need to investigate. True, it didn’t seem wise to go over there now in the dark. That was inviting trouble, right?
But Merlin just had to go there. And he couldn’t wait until morning. Something or maybe someone was coming, and he couldn’t delay.
Resolute in that decision, he wiped up his face with a washcloth and then exited the bathroom.
He smiled at Lux who was waiting with a wagging tail at the door.
Merlin shook his head wryly. “What to do with you, Lux?” he asked as he scooped the puppy up into his arms.
Lux only gave a high, happy bark; apparently pleased to finally receive the attention he desired.
“Hey Arthur, I’m going to the haunted house across the street. I won’t be long,” he told Arthur. “You can make sure Lux stays out of trouble,” he advised with an amused smile as he put his dog right into Arthur’s arms.
Lux stared at Arthur as if he were an alien, and Merlin couldn’t help but laugh. The dog turned to Merlin at his laugh and wagged his tail excitedly. He started barking cheerfully.
“With you as his owner, I doubt Lux can stay out of trouble,” Arthur jibed him. Merlin gave him an evil look. “What are you off about seeing the haunted house? It’s late and you know you’ll be asking for all those ghosts to come at you, doing their night time ritual of scaring people to death,” Arthur told him in a mock-serious tone.
“Very funny. Still going no matter what you say. If I don’t come back by morning, call the Ghostbusters,” he retorted.
“No, I’ll just send Lux and Cavall to bark the whole street down. That’ll scare the ghosts away,” Arthur said reasonably.
Merlin rolled his eyes. He quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a shirt, not wanting to see the haunted house in his pyjamas.
As he went to leave the room, Arthur’s voice stopped him. “Be careful, Merlin. Would you?”
Merlin nodded, acknowledging his words. He walked back and he granted Arthur a soft kiss on the lips. Lux, still situated in Arthur’s lap, whined a little as he recognized that Merlin was leaving.
“Good boy,” he said to Lux, petting him on the head.
“What about me? What am I?” Arthur asked. There was a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.
“You don’t want to know,” Merlin shot back.
Upon leaving the room, Merlin heard Arthur asking Lux if he wanted to spend some quality time with Cavall. It was quite a sight to see the two dogs playing together as Cavall was a big, wolf-like Norwegian Elkhound while Lux was a small fourteen-pound dog. The two dogs got along well enough, thankfully. Merlin had read that Lhasa Apsos, despite their small sizes, preferred the company of big dogs versus ones their own size. Lux was the perfect fit and despite not having him for very long, Merlin already loved the dog dearly.
Downstairs, he saw that Cavall was awake. The Elkhound had been sleeping in the living room, but now Cavall’s silver - wait, silver? Cavall didn’t have silver eyes. His eyes were dark brown.
What was going on?
“Cavall, what are you doing up?” Merlin asked, trying not to let his uneasiness show in his voice. Even though Cavall or Lux were just dogs, he and Arthur had fallen into the habit of speaking to their pets as if they were human. As if they could answer back.
He approached Cavall closer and then he gasped in surprise when he saw that Cavall was completely white. If Merlin wasn’t mistaken, Cavall looked like a proper white wolf.
“Arthur!” Merlin exclaimed.
Cavall cocked his head at Merlin, looking confused at Merlin’s alarm. Merlin patted him on the head, half-worried that Cavall would truly act like a wolf and decide to attack him. But thankfully Cavall seemed as friendly and obliging as ever.
Arthur came down the stairs with Lux at his heels.
“Cavall just turned into a white wolf. I don’t know how else to explain it,” Merlin informed him. “I mean, I can’t see how a white wolf got into the house.”
He wasn’t expecting Arthur to appear relatively calm about seeing his dog turn into a wolf.
Arthur smiled weakly, rubbing the back of his head. He looked sheepish. “Cavall’s never done that in front of anyone but me. I don’t know why he does it… and I’m not sure why he did it in front of you now after all this time.”
Then Cavall returned to looking like his usual Norwegian Elkhound self. Merlin stared at the apparently shape-shifting dog and then looked questioningly at Arthur.
“Why didn’t you tell me? You know about the phoenix,” Merlin reminded him.
“I should have, I know. I just liked having this secret between me and Cavall. Something between me and the dog. It was nice. I don’t deny I was unnerved the first time Cavall inexplicably changed into a wolf. But soon I oddly felt calm and maybe even grateful to see him as a wolf. I knew that I couldn’t tell anyone. No one would believe me.”
“I would,” Merlin cut in, affronted.
“Yes, I don’t doubt that. I just thought it was safer to keep it quiet. If Cavall’s strange talent got out, I didn’t want him taken in to be experimented on. I didn’t want to take that chance,” Arthur confided in him.
“I understand,” Merlin said sincerely. “I know now, and your secret is safe with me.”
“Thanks,” Arthur said.
“I’ll be going then.”
“You’re still going to that house?” Arthur asked him incredulously.
Merlin shrugged. He attempted to reassure him. “Just the backyard.”
“Where the cursed tree is? I feel better already.”
Merlin kissed him again. “I won’t take long. I promise, Arthur.”
With a long sigh, Arthur nodded at him.
Then he distracted Lux by coaxing him to pay attention to Cavall and not to Merlin who was leaving.
After putting on his shoes, Merlin slipped out the front door.
Merlin thought he heard a wolf howl off in the distance as he made his short trek across the way to the notoriously haunted house. He shivered reflexively despite it being a warm summer’s night. Cavall had turned into a wolf and now he was hearing a wolf’s howl. They weren’t close to any places where a wolf would roam, so Merlin could only conclude it was a supernatural, magical occurrence. And he could already feel a headache coming on. He was both excited and anxious to discover the mysteries that he was almost positive he’d been waiting all his life to unravel.
He couldn’t help but get an eerie feeling from the long, melancholy howl that just couldn’t be from Cavall. The mournful sound was so unlike Cavall, and it seemed to tell a story to Merlin, a story of tragedy and loss. It set him on edge.
The howl stopped, thankfully, and Merlin shook himself out of his reverie to proceed with his mission.
As quietly as he could, Merlin entered the backyard of the house and approached the tree.
But he was taken aback by the glowing yellow eyes staring at him by the tree. A dark creature was there. It looked like it was guarding the tree.
With trepidation, Merlin neared the tree as the silent animal’s eyes surveyed his every move.
Merlin swore under his breath. It was a black wolf. Had that been the wolf that had howled?
The dark wolf looked slim, its fur sleek and its eyes piercing and unnervingly watchful. Merlin couldn’t help but think the creature was ready for its next meal.
Stepping back to distance himself from the unsettling wolf, his attention was redirected to the sudden presence of a plume of dark smoke and lightning.
A man revealed himself in the wake of the smoke and lightning. Merlin immediately recognized that it was the same blond man he had seen in his vision. The man with the same black eyes who looked like Arthur.
The stranger was wearing a sleek slate grey suit that looked like it could have been from the 1920s, and a grey top hat with clockwork pieces on the side of it. He also, quite oddly, had a wolf-headed silver cane in hand. Though the Arthur look-a-like looked about the same age as Arthur, Merlin thought that his fashion sense was more akin to something his great-grandfather would have worn. Did this man time travel from the past? With the recent turn of events, Merlin wouldn’t be too surprised. The black wolf appeared to be the man’s pet - if you could call a wolf like that a pet - as the wolf responded to the man’s presence by the creature bumping his head against the man’s hand.
“Good evening,” the stranger said to him, even sounding like Arthur. The man obliged the wolf and stroked it behind the ears. The wolf acted more like an affection-seeking dog than a wild wolf with his owner.
“Who are you?” Merlin demanded to know.
“I think you know who I am. At least my first name. But I’m only addressed by that name by those I deem friends. Otherwise, that would be beneath my station.”
So his instincts had been right. The Arthur look-a-like that he encountered in his vision was apparently named Arthur too. But how did that work? Two people resembling each other with the same name? Unless they were twins, which made even less sense. Merlin couldn’t imagine anyone’s parents naming their identical twins the same way. That was just asking for confusion. Anyway, Arthur’s only sibling was Morgana who had died when Arthur was little.
“What do you mean by station? Are you something like royalty? I saw you in a dream. You were talking to a King and accusing him of kidnapping.”
The other Arthur’s expression darkened when Merlin spoke about the kidnapping. A sore subject then.
“I’m the emperor of a world. Supreme Emperor, if you want.”
“Wait. What do you mean: a world?”
“I understand this world of yours is dull, but I thought you wouldn’t be one of those people who didn’t believe in the possibility of other worlds. Your name is Merlin, isn’t it? Or did your mother name you something different?”
Merlin’s eyes narrowed. “My name is Merlin, but how did you know that?”
The black-eyed Arthur shrugged, bored. “You all look the same to me.”
“You’re telling me other worlds actually exist? And if you’re talking about others who look like me, and there was that King… then these worlds contain parallel versions of myself? Is that it?”
“Yes,” the other Arthur acknowledged, putting on a tired air, and checking his pocket watch for the time. “It’ll all come back to you sometime soon. I’m just here because I have to give you something.”
But Merlin was continuing to fit the pieces together. If that King was another version of himself and then the boy who was kidnapped was another world’s version of the King, the conclusion was obvious. The boy - Gwydion -- was Merlin in another world. The discussion of him rejecting his ‘true’ name led Merlin to believe Gwydion’s birth name was, in fact, Merlin. According to the vision, this Arthur before him now had apparently been this Gwydion’s adoptive father until Gwydion was ten years old.
Merlin could already see a drama unfolding and he decided it would be wise not to bring up Gwydion to the other Arthur. He was still a stranger to Merlin and as such, he didn’t want to address a sensitive subject with him.
Merlin had to admit that he was surprised that this Arthur was being amicable enough. Especially after his first impression of ill ease when seeing him in that vision.
Did he get the wrong impression of the other man? Were his demon black eyes an unfortunate accident that weren’t meant to imply the man’s evil nature?
“So you’re another world’s Arthur? Of the one I know, that is. If we’re continuing with the other worlds existing theory.”
“That’s right,” the other Arthur replied shortly. Then a small dark box magically appeared in his hand. “And here’s what you need. Take it.”
Merlin couldn’t help but be wary of accepting any item from this Arthur. He automatically glanced to his completely dark eyes, and he shook his head.
“It’s a harmless device,” Arthur said. “But I can see it was a bad idea for me to be the one to give this to you. It wasn’t my bloody idea,” he ended up muttering.
“Why are your eyes like that then? All black?” Merlin ventured.
“Accident. I was experimenting with magic and things went a little wrong. Won’t do that again. My eyes used to be blue, long ago.”
“What kind of magic?” Merlin pressed.
“Does it matter? Look, just take this box, the device is inside. It’s an information-giving instrument called the Diamantine Compass.”
Curiosity getting the better of him, Merlin finally took the box from the other Arthur.
The box was made of a dark stone - obsidian, maybe? Slowly he opened the box and discovered an admittedly beautiful compass-like instrument that appeared to be composed of diamonds. It was called a Diamantine Compass after all, so it could only be that, right? The compass was the size of his palm.
The face of the intriguing compass was fogged up with white mist. Yet Merlin didn’t miss the clockworks peeking through the mists.
“How does this work?” Merlin asked as he lifted the delicate compass from its casing.
“It’s magically powered. You can ask the compass a question - out loud or silently - and the answer in writing will appear on the compass. If the answer is a long one, then you will see it in your mind’s eye. Also, the compass has the ability to give you answers to questions you haven’t even asked. You’ll find those details are important, too.” The other Arthur informed him, sounding as if he were rehearsing words from a script.
“Right. Wait, so magic is real?”
“You’ve seen me do magic. Of course magic is real. It’s just a matter of belief. This world of yours--”
“-is dull, yeah. I heard you the first time. Just because most people here don’t believe in real magic doesn’t mean this world is dull. There are plenty of other things in this world…and people can be imaginative without really believing in magic.”
“Well, now you have no choice but to believe it. You would be a fool not to.”
“Yes, fine. Magic is real. Is there anything else about the compass I should know?”
The other Arthur nodded. “The compass has strong security features. No one can steal the compass from you, but you’re the only one who can use it once you’ve touched it anyway. You can’t misplace it and the compass can’t break.”
“An indestructible compass. Great,” said Merlin wryly, sighing afterwards.
The other Arthur smiled at him tightly. “That it is. On that note, I’ll be on my way. Good night.”
“Wait, don’t--” Merlin said.
But it was too late as the dark-eyed Arthur had already vanished along with his black wolf pet.
At first, Merlin wondered if this was all a dream, but he still held the obsidian box with the diamantine compass inside.
No. He hadn’t imagined this. He really had just met another version of Arthur who had given him a magical device.
Merlin looked up at the notoriously bewitched tree and he shivered reflexively. Did that other Arthur have anything to do with the curse on the tree? Had the other Arthur been indirectly responsible for the girl’s fall from the tree and subsequent death? Merlin could believe that this other version of Arthur could place such a curse on a tree. The dark-eyed Arthur possessed magic after all, so he had the ability to enact curses. Also, his apparent status as emperor of a world undoubtedly gave him power to do whatever he wished.
But what did that even mean: to be emperor of a world? What did he do as a part of his job? Order his subordinates around all day while he basked in his superiority? The thought of it sounded ridiculous.
All that in mind, should he really trust the other man and keep this compass?
Despite the trust issue, Merlin liked the idea of the compass providing him with answers to the questions he had. He couldn’t stand the mysteries of his life, and he just had to take this chance. Life was about risks, and he wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass him by.
So with trepidation, Merlin took the compass out of the box. He wasn’t expecting the device to suddenly come alive and jump. The device landed on top of his inside right forearm, just below his wrist, and stayed there defying gravity when Merlin put his arm down.
Well, the other Arthur had indicated that the compass was magically powered. The compass seemed to disappear and then when it was completely gone, it reappeared again a moment later. Merlin bit back a gasp. The compass had become a part of him, like an animated tattoo on his forearm. Frankly, he was surprised that he hadn’t felt any pain at the change. He watched as the moving mist hid the clockworks ticking underneath.
Biting his lip, he poked at the compass now seemingly a permanent fixture on his forearm. The compass glowed for a fleeting moment as if to show it was activated, then the glow subsided to reveal the words:
I am activated. Strength of power source: optimal. Ready for use.
Maybe he should ask a question?
Or he could head back home since it was late and Arthur was probably waiting up for him.
Yet he couldn’t resist asking just one question.
But before he could do that, an unfamiliar female voice spoke inside his head.
“Hello. I’m your magic.”
“You’re my what?”
“This diamantine compass is powered by magic. Weren’t you told that? Of course that means only someone who is so magically powerful like you could use such a compass.”
“I didn’t think it meant my own magic. I didn’t even know I had any. How are you here now?”
“I’ve been asleep all this time. I’ve always been with you, but now you need me to power the compass. So here I am, awake.”
“All right. But do you have anything to do with the answers the compass gives me?”
“No. I’m just the power source. I have no control over what answers the diamantine compass chooses to give you.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and you can call me Athena.”
“You have a name,” Merlin said dryly in surprise.
Athena sounded quite headstrong as she said, “Well, of course I do. Why must you have a name, but I don’t?” she argued.
“That’s the name of a goddess though.”
“Yes, but it is fitting. I am very powerful after all.”
“You mean I’m powerful.”
“By association,” Athena quipped back.
“I don’t know if you’re going to help me or frustrate me.”
“Of course I’m going to help you. I’m your magic after all.”
Merlin relented. He conceded, “All right. I believe you. I just have to get used to you being inside me, or yeah…” he trailed off.
He was tempted to ask why in the world his magic spoke in a woman’s voice. But he had to deal with one thing at a time. Just discovering he had actual magic was enough for now. Maybe magic was the opposite gender of the possessor? He wondered how that ended up happening, but for now, he decided to just accept his magic having a feminine identity, a rather assertive one at that.
“I think it’s best to leave the backyard,” Athena suggested. “I’m almost positive that cursed tree has eyes and it’s watching us. It’s creepy.”
Merlin walked out of the backyard. He couldn’t help but agree with his magic’s assessment. The tree did feel rather eerie. He went to sit on the front lawn, near the street. “I’ve been wondering if that other Arthur had cursed the tree. He probably did, didn’t he?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. You should ask the compass.”
Merlin nodded, feeling slightly weird as his magic wasn’t in front of him and he probably looked like he was nodding to himself. He had to be careful, he realized, when he talked to his magic so he wouldn’t look mad talking to himself. He had to make sure to speak silently.
So he did as Athena suggested. He quietly inquired of the compass if the other Arthur he’d just met had placed the curse on the tree.
In a simple, sans serif typeface, the word - “No” - appeared upon the diamantine compass.
Merlin guessed that the “no” most likely meant he had given someone else the task.
“But he is responsible for the curse being on the tree, right?”
Yes.
“Was the girl who was killed by falling from the tree the intended target?”
No.
“Then who is the target?”
Restricted information.
Merlin frowned. He didn’t like that the compass could deny him answers, but he supposed that everyone was still entitled to their secrets. Far be it for him to unravel all of them.
“It could be a child,” his magic guessed.
“Is another child the planned target?” Merlin asked the device.
“Yes.” Merlin read on the compass, but as soon as he read it, the word, “No” came up on the screen.
Then it said “yes” again then “no”, alternating between the two. That left him to believe the answer wasn’t as simple as the target being a child or an adult.
“Could you tell me about that other Arthur? What is his history?”
He is notoriously known as the Prince of Darkness. He is immortal, currently 1,504 years old.
Merlin knew it didn’t bode well that his name had darkness in the title. Wasn’t there a Prince of Darkness in the bible? As another name for the devil itself? And if the other Arthur was immortal too, that meant he was hard to stop as well.
“How did he become immortal?”
In his mind’s eye, the compass answered him:
Long ago, the Prince acquired immortality by following a spell granting eternal life. The spell called for great pain in exchange for the reward of immortality. To enact the spell, he willingly locked himself in a room, and then set himself on fire. He was burned alive. Out of the ashes, he was reborn as an immortal being.
“He must be mad,” Merlin remarked. “To want immortality that badly he was willing to endure unimaginable pain.”
Then Merlin decided to ask one last question before he returned home. There was the matter of that “affliction” that he heard about in his vision, but he wasn’t sure what it meant in the context of that vision.
He asked the compass about the meaning of this affliction when connected to the Prince of Darkness. That was who the King had been pinning the affliction on after all.
The words appeared in his mind’s eye as the compass answered:
This affliction is a strong bond between an Arthur and a Merlin. The bond is seen as negative to the Prince of Darkness and King Merlin, most notably, giving way to describing it as an affliction. So wronged by King Merlin, the Prince abhors the idea of a friendship with the King. Some may speculate the potential love he could have had with the King was converted into fatherly affection for his adopted son.
“Gwydion? The one who King Merlin kidnapped?”
Yes.
“And Gwydion is another world’s Merlin then?”
Yes.
“Can this affliction evolve? Does it have to be between an Arthur and a Merlin?”
No. An example is Gwydion and a boy who is not an Arthur at all.
“And what’s the boy’s name?”
Restricted information.
A yawn escaped him, signaling that it was time that he really should return home to Arthur.
“How should I explain this to Arthur? About the diamantine compass and his other self and, well, everything that I had thought was meant for sci-fi and fantasy stories is actually true.” Merlin asked Athena.
“Simple. Don’t tell him. Things will be much easier that way.”
“I hate lying to him…”
“But you haven’t even told him about the vision you had before.”
“You know about that? Did you have anything to do with it?”
“Of course not. I don’t know why you’re seeing phoenixes or why you had that vision. I’m as clueless as you in regards to all of that.”
“Right,” said Merlin despondently.
And the mysteries continued, but hopefully they would be solved soon for his sake.
“Was the tree that fascinating?” Arthur joked with him after his return.
Merlin rolled his eyes at him. “I was being thorough.”
“Did you climb it?”
“I’m twenty-eight, Arthur,” Merlin told him in mild exasperation. “I’m too old to climb trees. Seriously.”
Merlin playfully punched him on the shoulder. He noticed that Arthur seemed not to see the compass on his forearm. What if it was invisible to others now?
“And you still look like you should be in uni. It must be your magical genes,” Arthur quipped.
Merlin was startled when he heard Athena speak inside his head, “I think he has a solid point,” she added to the conversation.
Merlin rubbed the back of his head, asking Athena if she had any proof.
“The proof is in my existence,” said Athena matter-of-factly.
How he was going to live the rest of his life with his ‘charming’ magic talking back to him, Merlin would have liked to know.
For now, Merlin settled for tackling Arthur down on the bed and challenging him, “Why don’t you magick this then?” he said with a devious grin.
“Isn’t it a little late for role-play?”
“Oh shut up,” Merlin said as he restrained Arthur’s wrists to keep him from moving his hands. “Last time you played the dark sorcerer, it didn’t go so well.”
“That’s because my name’s not Merlin, you idiot,” Arthur argued reasonably.
But then Merlin regretted discussing role-plays as he couldn’t help but think of that other Arthur. The Prince of Darkness who probably played the part of dark sorcerer better than Arthur ever could.
His pitch-black eyes flashed inside his mind, and Merlin suddenly lost all interest in doing anything but sleeping.
Merlin let go of Arthur and lay down beside him, gazing pensively up at the ceiling.
“Merlin, what is it? Your face just fell.”
“Sorry, love… I just. I changed my mind. Let’s just go to sleep, all right?” Merlin suggested lightly.
“All right…” Arthur agreed, still sounding understandably confused. He kissed Merlin on the lips.
“Love you, Arthur,” Merlin said quietly.
“Yeah, love you too,” Arthur replied easily.
The two of them fell asleep.
“Would you not eat in front of me?” King Merlin asked of him, though he was resigned to the Prince not bothering to respect his request.
The Prince looked up at him. “Just because you haven’t eaten in centuries doesn’t mean I should be denied. You chose to die like a human instead of immortality. If you’re not happy with being a ghost, then you shouldn’t have chosen to be one.”
“Always seeing humanity as a weakness,” the King said.
“Oh fuck off. You still think you’re a saint after all these years. It’s pathetic. You don’t even have the courage to see that daemon world version of you. Or what he used to be. Now he’s misplaced in a dull world. How terrible.” he said quite unsympathetically.
The King knew why the other man was so uncaring. After all, the Prince had insured that some people, including Arthur and Merlin of the Daemon World, wouldn’t be reincarnated in their home world. That they’d be prevented from doing so. And the Prince now had supreme control of the Daemon World with neither Arthur nor Merlin in his way.
A lot had changed over the centuries. At least for now the Prince was satisfied ruling a world. And, oddly enough, the Daemon World wasn’t a wasteland. But King Merlin wasn’t fooled. The Prince wasn’t one to be underestimated.
“I didn’t want to startle him. It’s too soon for him to see me.”
“I know you were watching. Don’t deny it. You were amused by the whole thing, you bastard.”
“Well of course he would be unsettled by your horrid black eyes. I was more occupied with other things myself.”
“Still working on item-collecting?”
The King gave him a look, not deigning to give him an answer.
“Do you have any idea what Gwydion’s birth father is up to?” the Prince asked casually.
The King was sure that the Prince had realized that he wouldn’t tell him a thing about anyone. He wasn’t about to hand information to his enemy.
“Nevermind,” decided the Prince. “I know you won’t tell me. I bet it has something to do with those daemon world versions of Merlin and Arthur. I think I managed to get Merlin to believe in real magic.”
“Whatever you think of Gwydion’s birth father, it’d be foolish to challenge him. He’s more powerful than you could ever be.”
“I would never let anything like that deter me.”
“Colour me unsurprised.”
Silence fell as the Prince focused on eating the food on his plate and the King continued to read his Lord of the Rings book.
“You do realize your plan involving Mordred will not be without flaws. Any child you father will be a monster. Not even you could control him,” King Merlin warned him.
The Prince viciously glared at him. “Of course you’d believe anything that could be an advantage to your army of ‘angelic saints.’ But you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course I don’t,” remarked the King softly. He could tell that the mention of Mordred set the Prince on edge as always.
It was only time…
The Prince practically growled and intentionally knocked his glass of red wine off the table. Some wine touched the ghostly King but, since he was transparent, the crimson liquid went right through his hand leaving no stain.
“We’re done here,” the Prince declared.
And then he promptly disappeared via his magic.
“Peace and quiet,” the King murmured to himself. He smiled.
Merlin dreamed that night. He found himself in a long, shadowed corridor. Palm-sized floating flames flickered along the grey walls, giving off just enough light and warmth to not leave one wanting.
He couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like he was inside a manor or castle judging by the paintings on the wall and how the hallway seemed to stretch on forever.
Ahead of him, a raven-masked man approached. He was wearing in dark clothing to go along with his black raven mask, presumably. His outfit was one that was most fashionable in the 16th century. Merlin wondered if a masquerade was in progress as he heard echoes of laughter and general gaiety from a distance. Not stepping aside in time, Merlin was too late to avoid the man passing him. But he soon found he hadn’t needed to worry. The raven-masked man hadn’t seen him and walked straight through him as if Merlin was an invisible ghost.
The man removed his mask and Merlin was rather startled to come face-to-face with his look-a-like. Another version of himself from a different world, perhaps? It was one thing to have a vision of that King, but another matter to be right there in front of this other world’s version of him.
A pretty young woman in a deep blue gown appeared by magical means. Her hair was a very light shade of blonde, almost white, and her eyes were blue. A diamond necklace graced her neck and matched the diamonds on her tiara headpiece.
She smiled at the man who looked like Merlin. “There’s a dark sorceress in your chambers, Gwydion. She wishes to see you,” she informed him.
Then she commented on the raven mask he held in his hand, saying how she thought ravens were beautiful birds and how unfortunate that they were so misunderstood.
Meanwhile, Merlin’s mind was reeling. This was Gwydion then? That kidnapped boy? If this was Gwydion’s memory, then Merlin didn’t doubt that there was a big gap of missing time. A gap that would explain how Gwydion came to be at a masquerade at some point in the 16th century.
Merlin returned his attention to their conversation. He would gain more information that way.
“What were you doing in my chambers, Brigit?” Gwydion asked her.
She looked down, and shrugged. She patted down the front of her big skirt in a nervous gesture. “I was just checking to make sure no one had stolen anything,” she told him, though Merlin thought she was lying through her teeth. A moderately convincing lie, but still a lie nevertheless. “I am your half-sister after all. I was only looking after you,” Brigit said rather sincerely.
So this woman was Gwydion’s half-sister? And the mystery continues to unravel, Merlin thought.
“I’m lucky to have you then,” said Gwydion, though he sounded like he didn’t take her words for the truth. “And was this sorceress Morgaine?” he asked her.
“Yes, that’s who she said she was. The Prince’s beloved half-sister. She’s very pretty, I thought. I know she’s not your type though.”
“I’ve been expecting her,” he said. “And I have what you want to manage your condition,” he assured her. An opaque bottle appeared in his hand.
Brigit reached out to take the bottle from him.
Gwydion held the bottle away from her. “Did you keep your promise not to hurt anyone?”
“I’ve been an angel, Gwydion. Truly I have,” she said all too sweetly.
Gwydion gave her a discerning look. “All right. It has been a while. I’ll help you now, and this potion should last you a year.”
“Thank you,” Brigit told him graciously.
Brigit’s eyes turned red, and when she opened her mouth, she revealed grown fangs.
She was a vampire.
In shock, Merlin stepped back in an unconscious move to get away from danger. Magic was real, there were other worlds, and now vampires were real too. Great.
Gwydion just stood there, unconcerned, as Brigit bit into his neck and drank his blood.
The scene faded away on that moment and Merlin was soon placed into another scene not long afterwards.
Now a paler-looking Gwydion was in his chambers with an undeniably beautiful dark-haired woman. She was sitting at the dining table, treating herself to some grapes in the fruit bowl.
“You don’t look well,” the woman remarked conversationally.
“I don’t care how I look to you, Morgaine,” he shot back as he sat down across from her. He pressed his palms upon his brow as if to relieve a headache. “I just want you to give me what you came here for. I’ve lived for over one thousand years and I’m tired.”
“Tired of your conditional immortality?”
Gwydion glared at her. “You may have chosen immortality, but I didn’t ask for it. I was one hundred years old. I was still mourning…well,” he paused, unable to say anymore. He cleared his throat. “Anyway. I woke up one morning to find out, inexplicably, that seventy years of age had been wiped away. I was a young man again. I wanted my birth father to change me back, to leave me to die of old age, but it wasn’t possible. So I decided to travel here, the world of my birth. I have had to live through hundreds of years. I’m tired of it.”
“You’re so amusing,” Morgaine commented, twisting her lips. “Anyone would love to be in your position. And at least your world believes in real magic. Better than a dull world.”
“Give me the information about where to hide my Raven Knife,” he ordered her. “And if that prophecy is true, then I can finally die as I should have centuries ago.”
“You have to find it first,” she challenged in amusement.
Gwydion gave her a sharp look. He stood up and asked her, “Stand up.”
Morgaine did so. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her toward him, and then he stuck his other hand down her bodice, retrieving a small piece of paper.
“Predictable, My Lady.”
“I couldn’t resist,” she said silkily, smiling at him. “The paper is blank. Only you can read it. At least according to the Prince. It’s such a peculiar prophecy that the Prince must find the best place to hide your cherished Raven Knife. He is far from fond of the Knife’s true wielder as you know.”
“Regardless, he is forced to follow the prophecy,” Gwydion said as he read the paper.
“And what is the location?” she asked curiously.
“You’re the last person I’d tell,” he said to her in a distrusting voice.
“Of course. How bold of me,” Morgaine said carelessly. “You know, maybe you won’t be a human next time. I’ve heard rumours.”
“Good,” Gwydion said firmly. “Living this long now as a human is enough for me. But don’t think not being a human will slow me down, Morgaine.”
“No. No. I’d never think that.”
And then the scene faded away. Merlin’s dream shifted again. He couldn’t help but wonder what this Raven Knife was and its importance, to have to be hidden according to a prophecy.
The next scene he came upon was much different than the others. Arthur was before him, dressed in medieval clothing, and he was pleading with him. Pleading for Merlin to forgive him. It was an odd sensation as he wasn’t an observer, but actually a part of this dream. Yet he couldn’t control his movements - he was trapped in this body and he was certain this time that this man was him. Or used to be him.
He found himself being cold with Arthur and walking away from him. Something unconscionable must have happened for Merlin not to forgive Arthur.
The dream ended abruptly, the feelings of intense frustration with Arthur still affecting him. He woke up in a cold sweat.
It was only when he woke up that he remembered that a white wolf with silver eyes had been beside Arthur. The creature had looked exactly the same as the one Cavall had mysteriously shape-shifted into.
Luckily, he hadn’t woken up Arthur. Merlin breathed out a sigh of relief. He heard the sound of small paws entering the room. Of course his little dog couldn’t resist taking a late night stroll.
Merlin climbed out of bed, and he took Lux into his arms. “What are you doing up? Do you ever sleep?” he whispered to the dog.
Lux only snuggled up to him, butting his head to cajole Merlin to pet him on the head, which Merlin did.
He smiled at his dog, and then he decided to consult the Diamantine Compass.
Upon silently asking it what Arthur had been seeking forgiveness for, Merlin didn’t gain an answer.
The Compass only had a picture of the night sky with a boy sleeping on the curve of a silver crescent moon. A fluffed pillow cradled the boy’s head and white stars twinkled in the miniature display of the evening sky.
“Maybe even the Compass needs to sleep,” Athena suggested.
Merlin rolled his eyes. This Compass was ridiculous, honestly. But then he decided that maybe he didn’t want to know what that last bit of his dream was about. Maybe it was too soon.
So he left that inquiry for another day. After settling Lux down in his doggy bed downstairs, Merlin went back to sleep.
He had work in the morning after all.
Part 2 -->
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 & Epilogue
A pretty plot for fairy tales, Sire. But in real life, oh, no. No, it was foredoomed to failure.
~ Grand Duke (Disney’s Cinderella (1950))
~ * ~
There are more worlds in existence than one person can fathom. One world has its population born with their souls outside of their bodies, in animal forms called daemons. Another world consists of a completely magical population. There is even a world that fairy tale characters call home. Some people have alternate versions of themselves in other worlds. It was believed that the greatest sorcerer of all time, Merlin, had the most versions of himself across the worlds.
One orphaned Merlin who was also a half-god was determined to rise above his alternate selves and be unique. Though he could not change his physical likeness to the other Merlins, he did the next best thing. He changed his name to Gwydion, and he was ever-after acknowledged by that name.
Inspired by a world’s Excalibur, - one King Arthur’s sword that cut openings into other worlds to allow for travel between them - Gwydion made a knife that did the same. The accomplishment forever distinguished him from his other selves. This special knife was immortalized as the Raven Knife.
Centuries pass. The Merlin first born into the world of animal souls is reincarnated into a different world. From that same daemon world, the Arthur who once wielded the Raven Knife-inspiring Excalibur is reborn alongside Merlin.
Unaware of their past lives, Merlin and Arthur lead an ordinary existence as a couple. But soon that is all about to change.
~ * ~
2011
~ * ~
This time was different. Amidst one of his frustratingly common anxiety attacks, Merlin witnessed a scene unlike any he’d experienced before.
Sitting in a room, there was a man who resembled Merlin himself. Yet he had a beard and on his head rested a crown. His medieval style clothing was fit for a king. Merlin figured that he probably was one.
Another man appeared in the room as if he came out of thin air. He looked furious.
But what first caught Merlin’s attention was the blond man’s appearance. He shared a remarkable physical resemblance with Arthur. Yet his eyes were a desolate black down to the whites of his eyes. The effect unnerved Merlin. Was this blond man a demon?
He couldn’t help but think of all the movies and shows dealing with demonic characters. The very sight of this Arthur look-a-like set Merlin on edge. Merlin decided to call the man with the dark eyes ‘Arthur’ because his instincts led him to believe that was the man’s name. Yet Merlin thought that he could never be on friendly terms with the conceivably demonic man. He’d never address him as Arthur so familiarly.
“You’ve kidnapped my son!” the dark-eyed Arthur raged.
“Gwydion is another world’s version of me. You may have been his adoptive father for the past ten years of his life, but the law still holds. I have a greater right to him than you do as he and I are the same person based on the --”
“To hell with the Code! So you finally care about him. Where were you the last ten years? Now here you are. I don’t doubt that you’ve manipulated him against me, his own father!”
“You cannot deny what you were doing to him,” the King said sharply. “Injecting dangerous, dark magic inside him that would shorten his lifespan. All so you could use him as a power source without his knowledge or permission. And you are a fine one to talk about manipulation. You abused his dying mother’s trust, saying that you would look after Gwydion upon her death. The poor woman died in childbirth not knowing that she gave her child off to the likes of you.” His words were like a whip as he laid out the accusation.
Arthur’s look-a-like approached the table and tapped one rigid finger on the shined surface. “Gwydion’s mother would have been grateful, Your Majesty,” he said fiercely, a touch of bitterness at the end when he spoke the honorific. “I insured that Gwydion was not raised as a village simpleton as he would have been if he had stayed in Ealdor. I made sure he understood the importance of learning, that he wanted to learn. That knowledge was power, and that was the greatest weapon he could ever attain. Even greater than his magical talents. You should be thanking me for giving him a foundation of being learned as well as being practiced in magic.”
“You did all that to disguise your true motives for the boy. You intentionally took him to spite me,” the King declared.
“You can’t just admit that I have a point. No matter the dark magic, Gwydion owes a lot to me. He would have been nothing without me, you know that, but you refuse to acknowledge it.”
“Did you grow to care for him? Truly?”
The man looked unaffected, almost annoyed with the question. “What does it matter?”
“You could have the affliction.”
“I do not,” the pseudo Arthur argued fiercely.
“Maybe if things had been different for us, we could have been friends…” the King ventured idly.
The dark-eyed Arthur’s face twisted in obvious disgust. “We’re better off as enemies. Gwydion rejected his true name. That must tell you something.”
“Yes. You’re trying too hard.”
“Just know that whatever I do, it will be on your head. You stole Gwydion from me, and I won’t sit by quietly without getting my just revenge,” Arthur’s look-a-like vowed.
Upon this declaration, the other Arthur vanished in a cloud of dark smoke and lightning.
The scene faded away on the King’s concerned expression. Then Merlin felt something licking his own face.
Lux.
Merlin couldn’t help but be cheered by his puppy’s unyielding affection. After he sat up in bed, he grabbed the white Lhasa Apso puppy and moved him away from his face. He loved Lux, of course, but there was only so much dog slobber he could take on his face.
He hugged Lux to his chest, soothed by the dog’s presence. Pointedly, Merlin avoided Arthur’s wary gaze upon him.
“Are you all right? Give me your wrist,” Arthur requested of him, his tone brooking no argument.
Merlin sighed. “Arthur, I’m fine. You shouldn’t worry.”
But he still offered his wrist to Arthur. He checked Merlin’s pulse like he always did. Merlin knew he was making sure that his pulse had slowed down from its increased rhythm during his anxiety attacks. Merlin had to admit that the sweat now on him was rather uncomfortable. He had been ready to go to sleep when the anxiety attack hit. And now he felt like he had to take another shower with all the sweat he’d perspired during the incident.
Arthur let go of his wrist. “You seem to be fine,” he indicated, though Merlin could see the doubt in Arthur’s eyes.
Once, Arthur had told him that he couldn’t simply accept Merlin’s condition when there was no concrete explanation for why Merlin was contending with the attacks. Nothing that would give way to episodes of overwhelming anxiety.
Ever since he and Arthur had become engaged six months ago, Arthur’s persistence was rather frustrating for Merlin. Arthur wanted Merlin to get his anxiety attacks treated via medication or regular appointments with a psychiatrist. But Merlin had steadfastly refused the suggestions.
True, he didn’t like the anxiety attacks. More often than not, he wished he’d never have them, but he’d always felt there was a reason why he suffered through them. Merlin was still able to live a normal life since the attacks only affected him at home a few times a week. The condition never debilitated him after each attack. He always recovered. Sometimes he wondered if he suffered this condition because of something he had lost. And during each anxiety attack, he was being reminded of this loss.
But of course, Merlin couldn’t remember what he had lost. He desperately hoped that witnessing that scene was a start in unraveling this mystery.
“Merlin, I don’t understand. This can’t be coming out of nowhere,” Arthur confided in him, straightforward and to the point. “I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, but I’d feel better if you do something about the attacks. You can’t live your life like this. What if one day these anxiety attacks affect your daily life in a very bad way? You can’t expect to be lucky all the time.”
“I have been lucky,” Merlin said self-assuredly. He stroked Lux behind the ears as he spoke. “And I’ll continue to be lucky. I promise, Arthur, nothing will happen. Maybe I’ve just jinxed myself,” Merlin remarked with a small smile. “But I’m confident these anxiety attacks will be a minor nuisance, nothing more. Hopefully they’ll stop altogether in the near future. You never know.”
Arthur gave him a doubtful look. “So no childhood traumas I don’t know about?”
Merlin couldn’t keep from groaning. He rubbed his brow. “You know everything,” Merlin assured him.
Though he realized that he hadn’t told Arthur yet about the odd scene he had observed during his anxiety episode.
Merlin wasn’t too happy about keeping something from Arthur, but he doubted it was a good idea to confide in Arthur about the vision. He could barely wrap his head around it himself. Merlin didn’t doubt that Arthur would dismiss it as one bizarre dream.
He couldn’t just tell someone - even Arthur - and have the person take it seriously. Though the argument centered around the kidnapping of a child intrigued Merlin. He felt that once upon a time, he knew who exactly this child, this boy, was.
Or his imagination could just be running away from him. So soon after anxiety attack, it was understandable.
“Right, so let’s go over it again…” Arthur began.
“Will I be quizzed after?” Merlin retorted easily.
“We’ll see,” he replied. “Now your mother raised you as your father died of cancer before you were born. And you had a relatively normal childhood. Though I can’t forget your family being bird enthusiasts. Your mum has a falconer’s license, doesn’t she?”
“Yes she does,” Merlin confirmed. “She just got a Merlin falcon last week actually. Said she missed having a Merlin around.”
Arthur let out a laugh.
Merlin pointedly didn’t rise to the bait. “Anyway, she named the bird Belle.”
Arthur nodded, pretending to appear solemn but failing miserably.
They sat in silence for a few long moments. Merlin petted Lux thoughtfully, wondering why the dog was still very awake. Did he ever sleep?
“I could use a cold shower about now,” Merlin told him.
Arthur nodded. “Go ahead.”
Smiling at him quietly, Merlin left their bedroom and retreated to the en suite bathroom as quickly as he could. Lux looked ready to follow him inside.
“No, Lux, stay. All right?” Merlin attempted to coax him.
Arthur commented, “The way he acts, it’s a surprise you got him only a few months ago. Lux is one overly affectionate dog.”
Merlin gave Arthur a sardonic look. “Yeah, yeah. Nevermind Lux, what about Cavall when he was a puppy? He was just as bad from what you told me.”
“Oh low blow,” Arthur joked, letting the matter slide.
Merlin couldn’t help but chuckle.
He shut the bathroom door, Lux’s pleading whines carrying through, and he took a moment to look at the mirror. He thought about how he had never known his father. It just wasn’t the same with his mum just telling him about his father.
Merlin knew now that she was focusing on the positive things about him. It was understandable why as it was easier, nicer, to recall the good things about someone after their death. But Merlin always felt that his father was a puzzle missing half its pieces. He couldn’t help but wonder about what he was like overall, what made him tick. Would he have got on well with his father now if he had lived?
Shaking his head, he realized he hadn’t really been looking at the mirror, so lost in his own contemplations as he had been. Yet now, when he finally was peering at the mirror’s surface properly, he almost gasped in shock to see an image of a scarlet and gold phoenix reflected on the clear surface.
Merlin had seen this mythical bird several times throughout his life in all sorts of places. Sometimes, the bird had even slipped into his dreams. There was something strangely familiar about this phoenix, but usually he figured that of course, he’d be seeing magical birds. His name was ‘Merlin’ after all. It was just another weird thing associated with him.
And yet…this time was different. Like observing that scene amidst his anxiety attack. Seeing the phoenix now held an even more important meaning to him.
Big changes were coming. Merlin could feel it.
Then to Merlin’s surprise, the phoenix shifted form into a firefly; the glow of the firefly was brighter than even the light from the lamp fixtures in the bathroom.
That had never happened. If Merlin had been doubtful before, then now he felt positive that something was afoot. There was a reason why this phoenix had changed form, why he had witnessed that scene between the black-eyed man and the King. Something, someone was telling him to pay attention. Especially now.
What if this phoenix was what he had lost? Was that why he had been plagued with these anxiety attacks all his life?
But then why hadn’t he thought of that before? After seeing that scarlet-gold phoenix throughout his life, Merlin felt slow for not making the connection sooner. It was only now that he had that light bulb moment.
He splashed some cool water on his face. An idea came to him. Should he visit that house across the street? The reportedly haunted house had been vacant even before he and Arthur had moved two years ago to this Oxford suburb of Headington.
A young girl, Susan Williams, had been climbing the tree in the backyard of the house and she had fallen to her death.
Soon after, her parents had moved out of the residence, unable to remain in the same place their little girl had died. Merlin had been told by the neighbors who had known the family that Susan had been good at climbing trees. That it was quite strange that she had died doing an activity she had experience with. The stories then usually shifted to a belief that the tree had to have been cursed. Those who believed in the supernatural swore up and down that being near that tree gave them an eerie, spooky feeling. Then all that talk eventually led to people deciding that the whole house must be haunted. It was no good living there because you might as well be living with a demonic spirit. That’s about as safe as it was.
Merlin recalled the black-eyed - possibly demonic -- man who’d looked like Arthur in his vision. That had to be a sign. It had to be. Strange things were beginning to occur - with the vision and the phoenix reappearing and turning into a firefly for the first time. Far be it for him not to press on with his need to investigate. True, it didn’t seem wise to go over there now in the dark. That was inviting trouble, right?
But Merlin just had to go there. And he couldn’t wait until morning. Something or maybe someone was coming, and he couldn’t delay.
Resolute in that decision, he wiped up his face with a washcloth and then exited the bathroom.
He smiled at Lux who was waiting with a wagging tail at the door.
Merlin shook his head wryly. “What to do with you, Lux?” he asked as he scooped the puppy up into his arms.
Lux only gave a high, happy bark; apparently pleased to finally receive the attention he desired.
“Hey Arthur, I’m going to the haunted house across the street. I won’t be long,” he told Arthur. “You can make sure Lux stays out of trouble,” he advised with an amused smile as he put his dog right into Arthur’s arms.
Lux stared at Arthur as if he were an alien, and Merlin couldn’t help but laugh. The dog turned to Merlin at his laugh and wagged his tail excitedly. He started barking cheerfully.
“With you as his owner, I doubt Lux can stay out of trouble,” Arthur jibed him. Merlin gave him an evil look. “What are you off about seeing the haunted house? It’s late and you know you’ll be asking for all those ghosts to come at you, doing their night time ritual of scaring people to death,” Arthur told him in a mock-serious tone.
“Very funny. Still going no matter what you say. If I don’t come back by morning, call the Ghostbusters,” he retorted.
“No, I’ll just send Lux and Cavall to bark the whole street down. That’ll scare the ghosts away,” Arthur said reasonably.
Merlin rolled his eyes. He quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a shirt, not wanting to see the haunted house in his pyjamas.
As he went to leave the room, Arthur’s voice stopped him. “Be careful, Merlin. Would you?”
Merlin nodded, acknowledging his words. He walked back and he granted Arthur a soft kiss on the lips. Lux, still situated in Arthur’s lap, whined a little as he recognized that Merlin was leaving.
“Good boy,” he said to Lux, petting him on the head.
“What about me? What am I?” Arthur asked. There was a mischievous twinkle in his blue eyes.
“You don’t want to know,” Merlin shot back.
Upon leaving the room, Merlin heard Arthur asking Lux if he wanted to spend some quality time with Cavall. It was quite a sight to see the two dogs playing together as Cavall was a big, wolf-like Norwegian Elkhound while Lux was a small fourteen-pound dog. The two dogs got along well enough, thankfully. Merlin had read that Lhasa Apsos, despite their small sizes, preferred the company of big dogs versus ones their own size. Lux was the perfect fit and despite not having him for very long, Merlin already loved the dog dearly.
Downstairs, he saw that Cavall was awake. The Elkhound had been sleeping in the living room, but now Cavall’s silver - wait, silver? Cavall didn’t have silver eyes. His eyes were dark brown.
What was going on?
“Cavall, what are you doing up?” Merlin asked, trying not to let his uneasiness show in his voice. Even though Cavall or Lux were just dogs, he and Arthur had fallen into the habit of speaking to their pets as if they were human. As if they could answer back.
He approached Cavall closer and then he gasped in surprise when he saw that Cavall was completely white. If Merlin wasn’t mistaken, Cavall looked like a proper white wolf.
“Arthur!” Merlin exclaimed.
Cavall cocked his head at Merlin, looking confused at Merlin’s alarm. Merlin patted him on the head, half-worried that Cavall would truly act like a wolf and decide to attack him. But thankfully Cavall seemed as friendly and obliging as ever.
Arthur came down the stairs with Lux at his heels.
“Cavall just turned into a white wolf. I don’t know how else to explain it,” Merlin informed him. “I mean, I can’t see how a white wolf got into the house.”
He wasn’t expecting Arthur to appear relatively calm about seeing his dog turn into a wolf.
Arthur smiled weakly, rubbing the back of his head. He looked sheepish. “Cavall’s never done that in front of anyone but me. I don’t know why he does it… and I’m not sure why he did it in front of you now after all this time.”
Then Cavall returned to looking like his usual Norwegian Elkhound self. Merlin stared at the apparently shape-shifting dog and then looked questioningly at Arthur.
“Why didn’t you tell me? You know about the phoenix,” Merlin reminded him.
“I should have, I know. I just liked having this secret between me and Cavall. Something between me and the dog. It was nice. I don’t deny I was unnerved the first time Cavall inexplicably changed into a wolf. But soon I oddly felt calm and maybe even grateful to see him as a wolf. I knew that I couldn’t tell anyone. No one would believe me.”
“I would,” Merlin cut in, affronted.
“Yes, I don’t doubt that. I just thought it was safer to keep it quiet. If Cavall’s strange talent got out, I didn’t want him taken in to be experimented on. I didn’t want to take that chance,” Arthur confided in him.
“I understand,” Merlin said sincerely. “I know now, and your secret is safe with me.”
“Thanks,” Arthur said.
“I’ll be going then.”
“You’re still going to that house?” Arthur asked him incredulously.
Merlin shrugged. He attempted to reassure him. “Just the backyard.”
“Where the cursed tree is? I feel better already.”
Merlin kissed him again. “I won’t take long. I promise, Arthur.”
With a long sigh, Arthur nodded at him.
Then he distracted Lux by coaxing him to pay attention to Cavall and not to Merlin who was leaving.
After putting on his shoes, Merlin slipped out the front door.
Merlin thought he heard a wolf howl off in the distance as he made his short trek across the way to the notoriously haunted house. He shivered reflexively despite it being a warm summer’s night. Cavall had turned into a wolf and now he was hearing a wolf’s howl. They weren’t close to any places where a wolf would roam, so Merlin could only conclude it was a supernatural, magical occurrence. And he could already feel a headache coming on. He was both excited and anxious to discover the mysteries that he was almost positive he’d been waiting all his life to unravel.
He couldn’t help but get an eerie feeling from the long, melancholy howl that just couldn’t be from Cavall. The mournful sound was so unlike Cavall, and it seemed to tell a story to Merlin, a story of tragedy and loss. It set him on edge.
The howl stopped, thankfully, and Merlin shook himself out of his reverie to proceed with his mission.
As quietly as he could, Merlin entered the backyard of the house and approached the tree.
But he was taken aback by the glowing yellow eyes staring at him by the tree. A dark creature was there. It looked like it was guarding the tree.
With trepidation, Merlin neared the tree as the silent animal’s eyes surveyed his every move.
Merlin swore under his breath. It was a black wolf. Had that been the wolf that had howled?
The dark wolf looked slim, its fur sleek and its eyes piercing and unnervingly watchful. Merlin couldn’t help but think the creature was ready for its next meal.
Stepping back to distance himself from the unsettling wolf, his attention was redirected to the sudden presence of a plume of dark smoke and lightning.
A man revealed himself in the wake of the smoke and lightning. Merlin immediately recognized that it was the same blond man he had seen in his vision. The man with the same black eyes who looked like Arthur.
The stranger was wearing a sleek slate grey suit that looked like it could have been from the 1920s, and a grey top hat with clockwork pieces on the side of it. He also, quite oddly, had a wolf-headed silver cane in hand. Though the Arthur look-a-like looked about the same age as Arthur, Merlin thought that his fashion sense was more akin to something his great-grandfather would have worn. Did this man time travel from the past? With the recent turn of events, Merlin wouldn’t be too surprised. The black wolf appeared to be the man’s pet - if you could call a wolf like that a pet - as the wolf responded to the man’s presence by the creature bumping his head against the man’s hand.
“Good evening,” the stranger said to him, even sounding like Arthur. The man obliged the wolf and stroked it behind the ears. The wolf acted more like an affection-seeking dog than a wild wolf with his owner.
“Who are you?” Merlin demanded to know.
“I think you know who I am. At least my first name. But I’m only addressed by that name by those I deem friends. Otherwise, that would be beneath my station.”
So his instincts had been right. The Arthur look-a-like that he encountered in his vision was apparently named Arthur too. But how did that work? Two people resembling each other with the same name? Unless they were twins, which made even less sense. Merlin couldn’t imagine anyone’s parents naming their identical twins the same way. That was just asking for confusion. Anyway, Arthur’s only sibling was Morgana who had died when Arthur was little.
“What do you mean by station? Are you something like royalty? I saw you in a dream. You were talking to a King and accusing him of kidnapping.”
The other Arthur’s expression darkened when Merlin spoke about the kidnapping. A sore subject then.
“I’m the emperor of a world. Supreme Emperor, if you want.”
“Wait. What do you mean: a world?”
“I understand this world of yours is dull, but I thought you wouldn’t be one of those people who didn’t believe in the possibility of other worlds. Your name is Merlin, isn’t it? Or did your mother name you something different?”
Merlin’s eyes narrowed. “My name is Merlin, but how did you know that?”
The black-eyed Arthur shrugged, bored. “You all look the same to me.”
“You’re telling me other worlds actually exist? And if you’re talking about others who look like me, and there was that King… then these worlds contain parallel versions of myself? Is that it?”
“Yes,” the other Arthur acknowledged, putting on a tired air, and checking his pocket watch for the time. “It’ll all come back to you sometime soon. I’m just here because I have to give you something.”
But Merlin was continuing to fit the pieces together. If that King was another version of himself and then the boy who was kidnapped was another world’s version of the King, the conclusion was obvious. The boy - Gwydion -- was Merlin in another world. The discussion of him rejecting his ‘true’ name led Merlin to believe Gwydion’s birth name was, in fact, Merlin. According to the vision, this Arthur before him now had apparently been this Gwydion’s adoptive father until Gwydion was ten years old.
Merlin could already see a drama unfolding and he decided it would be wise not to bring up Gwydion to the other Arthur. He was still a stranger to Merlin and as such, he didn’t want to address a sensitive subject with him.
Merlin had to admit that he was surprised that this Arthur was being amicable enough. Especially after his first impression of ill ease when seeing him in that vision.
Did he get the wrong impression of the other man? Were his demon black eyes an unfortunate accident that weren’t meant to imply the man’s evil nature?
“So you’re another world’s Arthur? Of the one I know, that is. If we’re continuing with the other worlds existing theory.”
“That’s right,” the other Arthur replied shortly. Then a small dark box magically appeared in his hand. “And here’s what you need. Take it.”
Merlin couldn’t help but be wary of accepting any item from this Arthur. He automatically glanced to his completely dark eyes, and he shook his head.
“It’s a harmless device,” Arthur said. “But I can see it was a bad idea for me to be the one to give this to you. It wasn’t my bloody idea,” he ended up muttering.
“Why are your eyes like that then? All black?” Merlin ventured.
“Accident. I was experimenting with magic and things went a little wrong. Won’t do that again. My eyes used to be blue, long ago.”
“What kind of magic?” Merlin pressed.
“Does it matter? Look, just take this box, the device is inside. It’s an information-giving instrument called the Diamantine Compass.”
Curiosity getting the better of him, Merlin finally took the box from the other Arthur.
The box was made of a dark stone - obsidian, maybe? Slowly he opened the box and discovered an admittedly beautiful compass-like instrument that appeared to be composed of diamonds. It was called a Diamantine Compass after all, so it could only be that, right? The compass was the size of his palm.
The face of the intriguing compass was fogged up with white mist. Yet Merlin didn’t miss the clockworks peeking through the mists.
“How does this work?” Merlin asked as he lifted the delicate compass from its casing.
“It’s magically powered. You can ask the compass a question - out loud or silently - and the answer in writing will appear on the compass. If the answer is a long one, then you will see it in your mind’s eye. Also, the compass has the ability to give you answers to questions you haven’t even asked. You’ll find those details are important, too.” The other Arthur informed him, sounding as if he were rehearsing words from a script.
“Right. Wait, so magic is real?”
“You’ve seen me do magic. Of course magic is real. It’s just a matter of belief. This world of yours--”
“-is dull, yeah. I heard you the first time. Just because most people here don’t believe in real magic doesn’t mean this world is dull. There are plenty of other things in this world…and people can be imaginative without really believing in magic.”
“Well, now you have no choice but to believe it. You would be a fool not to.”
“Yes, fine. Magic is real. Is there anything else about the compass I should know?”
The other Arthur nodded. “The compass has strong security features. No one can steal the compass from you, but you’re the only one who can use it once you’ve touched it anyway. You can’t misplace it and the compass can’t break.”
“An indestructible compass. Great,” said Merlin wryly, sighing afterwards.
The other Arthur smiled at him tightly. “That it is. On that note, I’ll be on my way. Good night.”
“Wait, don’t--” Merlin said.
But it was too late as the dark-eyed Arthur had already vanished along with his black wolf pet.
At first, Merlin wondered if this was all a dream, but he still held the obsidian box with the diamantine compass inside.
No. He hadn’t imagined this. He really had just met another version of Arthur who had given him a magical device.
Merlin looked up at the notoriously bewitched tree and he shivered reflexively. Did that other Arthur have anything to do with the curse on the tree? Had the other Arthur been indirectly responsible for the girl’s fall from the tree and subsequent death? Merlin could believe that this other version of Arthur could place such a curse on a tree. The dark-eyed Arthur possessed magic after all, so he had the ability to enact curses. Also, his apparent status as emperor of a world undoubtedly gave him power to do whatever he wished.
But what did that even mean: to be emperor of a world? What did he do as a part of his job? Order his subordinates around all day while he basked in his superiority? The thought of it sounded ridiculous.
All that in mind, should he really trust the other man and keep this compass?
Despite the trust issue, Merlin liked the idea of the compass providing him with answers to the questions he had. He couldn’t stand the mysteries of his life, and he just had to take this chance. Life was about risks, and he wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass him by.
So with trepidation, Merlin took the compass out of the box. He wasn’t expecting the device to suddenly come alive and jump. The device landed on top of his inside right forearm, just below his wrist, and stayed there defying gravity when Merlin put his arm down.
Well, the other Arthur had indicated that the compass was magically powered. The compass seemed to disappear and then when it was completely gone, it reappeared again a moment later. Merlin bit back a gasp. The compass had become a part of him, like an animated tattoo on his forearm. Frankly, he was surprised that he hadn’t felt any pain at the change. He watched as the moving mist hid the clockworks ticking underneath.
Biting his lip, he poked at the compass now seemingly a permanent fixture on his forearm. The compass glowed for a fleeting moment as if to show it was activated, then the glow subsided to reveal the words:
I am activated. Strength of power source: optimal. Ready for use.
Maybe he should ask a question?
Or he could head back home since it was late and Arthur was probably waiting up for him.
Yet he couldn’t resist asking just one question.
But before he could do that, an unfamiliar female voice spoke inside his head.
“Hello. I’m your magic.”
“You’re my what?”
“This diamantine compass is powered by magic. Weren’t you told that? Of course that means only someone who is so magically powerful like you could use such a compass.”
“I didn’t think it meant my own magic. I didn’t even know I had any. How are you here now?”
“I’ve been asleep all this time. I’ve always been with you, but now you need me to power the compass. So here I am, awake.”
“All right. But do you have anything to do with the answers the compass gives me?”
“No. I’m just the power source. I have no control over what answers the diamantine compass chooses to give you.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and you can call me Athena.”
“You have a name,” Merlin said dryly in surprise.
Athena sounded quite headstrong as she said, “Well, of course I do. Why must you have a name, but I don’t?” she argued.
“That’s the name of a goddess though.”
“Yes, but it is fitting. I am very powerful after all.”
“You mean I’m powerful.”
“By association,” Athena quipped back.
“I don’t know if you’re going to help me or frustrate me.”
“Of course I’m going to help you. I’m your magic after all.”
Merlin relented. He conceded, “All right. I believe you. I just have to get used to you being inside me, or yeah…” he trailed off.
He was tempted to ask why in the world his magic spoke in a woman’s voice. But he had to deal with one thing at a time. Just discovering he had actual magic was enough for now. Maybe magic was the opposite gender of the possessor? He wondered how that ended up happening, but for now, he decided to just accept his magic having a feminine identity, a rather assertive one at that.
“I think it’s best to leave the backyard,” Athena suggested. “I’m almost positive that cursed tree has eyes and it’s watching us. It’s creepy.”
Merlin walked out of the backyard. He couldn’t help but agree with his magic’s assessment. The tree did feel rather eerie. He went to sit on the front lawn, near the street. “I’ve been wondering if that other Arthur had cursed the tree. He probably did, didn’t he?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. You should ask the compass.”
Merlin nodded, feeling slightly weird as his magic wasn’t in front of him and he probably looked like he was nodding to himself. He had to be careful, he realized, when he talked to his magic so he wouldn’t look mad talking to himself. He had to make sure to speak silently.
So he did as Athena suggested. He quietly inquired of the compass if the other Arthur he’d just met had placed the curse on the tree.
In a simple, sans serif typeface, the word - “No” - appeared upon the diamantine compass.
Merlin guessed that the “no” most likely meant he had given someone else the task.
“But he is responsible for the curse being on the tree, right?”
Yes.
“Was the girl who was killed by falling from the tree the intended target?”
No.
“Then who is the target?”
Restricted information.
Merlin frowned. He didn’t like that the compass could deny him answers, but he supposed that everyone was still entitled to their secrets. Far be it for him to unravel all of them.
“It could be a child,” his magic guessed.
“Is another child the planned target?” Merlin asked the device.
“Yes.” Merlin read on the compass, but as soon as he read it, the word, “No” came up on the screen.
Then it said “yes” again then “no”, alternating between the two. That left him to believe the answer wasn’t as simple as the target being a child or an adult.
“Could you tell me about that other Arthur? What is his history?”
He is notoriously known as the Prince of Darkness. He is immortal, currently 1,504 years old.
Merlin knew it didn’t bode well that his name had darkness in the title. Wasn’t there a Prince of Darkness in the bible? As another name for the devil itself? And if the other Arthur was immortal too, that meant he was hard to stop as well.
“How did he become immortal?”
In his mind’s eye, the compass answered him:
Long ago, the Prince acquired immortality by following a spell granting eternal life. The spell called for great pain in exchange for the reward of immortality. To enact the spell, he willingly locked himself in a room, and then set himself on fire. He was burned alive. Out of the ashes, he was reborn as an immortal being.
“He must be mad,” Merlin remarked. “To want immortality that badly he was willing to endure unimaginable pain.”
Then Merlin decided to ask one last question before he returned home. There was the matter of that “affliction” that he heard about in his vision, but he wasn’t sure what it meant in the context of that vision.
He asked the compass about the meaning of this affliction when connected to the Prince of Darkness. That was who the King had been pinning the affliction on after all.
The words appeared in his mind’s eye as the compass answered:
This affliction is a strong bond between an Arthur and a Merlin. The bond is seen as negative to the Prince of Darkness and King Merlin, most notably, giving way to describing it as an affliction. So wronged by King Merlin, the Prince abhors the idea of a friendship with the King. Some may speculate the potential love he could have had with the King was converted into fatherly affection for his adopted son.
“Gwydion? The one who King Merlin kidnapped?”
Yes.
“And Gwydion is another world’s Merlin then?”
Yes.
“Can this affliction evolve? Does it have to be between an Arthur and a Merlin?”
No. An example is Gwydion and a boy who is not an Arthur at all.
“And what’s the boy’s name?”
Restricted information.
A yawn escaped him, signaling that it was time that he really should return home to Arthur.
“How should I explain this to Arthur? About the diamantine compass and his other self and, well, everything that I had thought was meant for sci-fi and fantasy stories is actually true.” Merlin asked Athena.
“Simple. Don’t tell him. Things will be much easier that way.”
“I hate lying to him…”
“But you haven’t even told him about the vision you had before.”
“You know about that? Did you have anything to do with it?”
“Of course not. I don’t know why you’re seeing phoenixes or why you had that vision. I’m as clueless as you in regards to all of that.”
“Right,” said Merlin despondently.
And the mysteries continued, but hopefully they would be solved soon for his sake.
“Was the tree that fascinating?” Arthur joked with him after his return.
Merlin rolled his eyes at him. “I was being thorough.”
“Did you climb it?”
“I’m twenty-eight, Arthur,” Merlin told him in mild exasperation. “I’m too old to climb trees. Seriously.”
Merlin playfully punched him on the shoulder. He noticed that Arthur seemed not to see the compass on his forearm. What if it was invisible to others now?
“And you still look like you should be in uni. It must be your magical genes,” Arthur quipped.
Merlin was startled when he heard Athena speak inside his head, “I think he has a solid point,” she added to the conversation.
Merlin rubbed the back of his head, asking Athena if she had any proof.
“The proof is in my existence,” said Athena matter-of-factly.
How he was going to live the rest of his life with his ‘charming’ magic talking back to him, Merlin would have liked to know.
For now, Merlin settled for tackling Arthur down on the bed and challenging him, “Why don’t you magick this then?” he said with a devious grin.
“Isn’t it a little late for role-play?”
“Oh shut up,” Merlin said as he restrained Arthur’s wrists to keep him from moving his hands. “Last time you played the dark sorcerer, it didn’t go so well.”
“That’s because my name’s not Merlin, you idiot,” Arthur argued reasonably.
But then Merlin regretted discussing role-plays as he couldn’t help but think of that other Arthur. The Prince of Darkness who probably played the part of dark sorcerer better than Arthur ever could.
His pitch-black eyes flashed inside his mind, and Merlin suddenly lost all interest in doing anything but sleeping.
Merlin let go of Arthur and lay down beside him, gazing pensively up at the ceiling.
“Merlin, what is it? Your face just fell.”
“Sorry, love… I just. I changed my mind. Let’s just go to sleep, all right?” Merlin suggested lightly.
“All right…” Arthur agreed, still sounding understandably confused. He kissed Merlin on the lips.
“Love you, Arthur,” Merlin said quietly.
“Yeah, love you too,” Arthur replied easily.
The two of them fell asleep.
“Would you not eat in front of me?” King Merlin asked of him, though he was resigned to the Prince not bothering to respect his request.
The Prince looked up at him. “Just because you haven’t eaten in centuries doesn’t mean I should be denied. You chose to die like a human instead of immortality. If you’re not happy with being a ghost, then you shouldn’t have chosen to be one.”
“Always seeing humanity as a weakness,” the King said.
“Oh fuck off. You still think you’re a saint after all these years. It’s pathetic. You don’t even have the courage to see that daemon world version of you. Or what he used to be. Now he’s misplaced in a dull world. How terrible.” he said quite unsympathetically.
The King knew why the other man was so uncaring. After all, the Prince had insured that some people, including Arthur and Merlin of the Daemon World, wouldn’t be reincarnated in their home world. That they’d be prevented from doing so. And the Prince now had supreme control of the Daemon World with neither Arthur nor Merlin in his way.
A lot had changed over the centuries. At least for now the Prince was satisfied ruling a world. And, oddly enough, the Daemon World wasn’t a wasteland. But King Merlin wasn’t fooled. The Prince wasn’t one to be underestimated.
“I didn’t want to startle him. It’s too soon for him to see me.”
“I know you were watching. Don’t deny it. You were amused by the whole thing, you bastard.”
“Well of course he would be unsettled by your horrid black eyes. I was more occupied with other things myself.”
“Still working on item-collecting?”
The King gave him a look, not deigning to give him an answer.
“Do you have any idea what Gwydion’s birth father is up to?” the Prince asked casually.
The King was sure that the Prince had realized that he wouldn’t tell him a thing about anyone. He wasn’t about to hand information to his enemy.
“Nevermind,” decided the Prince. “I know you won’t tell me. I bet it has something to do with those daemon world versions of Merlin and Arthur. I think I managed to get Merlin to believe in real magic.”
“Whatever you think of Gwydion’s birth father, it’d be foolish to challenge him. He’s more powerful than you could ever be.”
“I would never let anything like that deter me.”
“Colour me unsurprised.”
Silence fell as the Prince focused on eating the food on his plate and the King continued to read his Lord of the Rings book.
“You do realize your plan involving Mordred will not be without flaws. Any child you father will be a monster. Not even you could control him,” King Merlin warned him.
The Prince viciously glared at him. “Of course you’d believe anything that could be an advantage to your army of ‘angelic saints.’ But you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course I don’t,” remarked the King softly. He could tell that the mention of Mordred set the Prince on edge as always.
It was only time…
The Prince practically growled and intentionally knocked his glass of red wine off the table. Some wine touched the ghostly King but, since he was transparent, the crimson liquid went right through his hand leaving no stain.
“We’re done here,” the Prince declared.
And then he promptly disappeared via his magic.
“Peace and quiet,” the King murmured to himself. He smiled.
Merlin dreamed that night. He found himself in a long, shadowed corridor. Palm-sized floating flames flickered along the grey walls, giving off just enough light and warmth to not leave one wanting.
He couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like he was inside a manor or castle judging by the paintings on the wall and how the hallway seemed to stretch on forever.
Ahead of him, a raven-masked man approached. He was wearing in dark clothing to go along with his black raven mask, presumably. His outfit was one that was most fashionable in the 16th century. Merlin wondered if a masquerade was in progress as he heard echoes of laughter and general gaiety from a distance. Not stepping aside in time, Merlin was too late to avoid the man passing him. But he soon found he hadn’t needed to worry. The raven-masked man hadn’t seen him and walked straight through him as if Merlin was an invisible ghost.
The man removed his mask and Merlin was rather startled to come face-to-face with his look-a-like. Another version of himself from a different world, perhaps? It was one thing to have a vision of that King, but another matter to be right there in front of this other world’s version of him.
A pretty young woman in a deep blue gown appeared by magical means. Her hair was a very light shade of blonde, almost white, and her eyes were blue. A diamond necklace graced her neck and matched the diamonds on her tiara headpiece.
She smiled at the man who looked like Merlin. “There’s a dark sorceress in your chambers, Gwydion. She wishes to see you,” she informed him.
Then she commented on the raven mask he held in his hand, saying how she thought ravens were beautiful birds and how unfortunate that they were so misunderstood.
Meanwhile, Merlin’s mind was reeling. This was Gwydion then? That kidnapped boy? If this was Gwydion’s memory, then Merlin didn’t doubt that there was a big gap of missing time. A gap that would explain how Gwydion came to be at a masquerade at some point in the 16th century.
Merlin returned his attention to their conversation. He would gain more information that way.
“What were you doing in my chambers, Brigit?” Gwydion asked her.
She looked down, and shrugged. She patted down the front of her big skirt in a nervous gesture. “I was just checking to make sure no one had stolen anything,” she told him, though Merlin thought she was lying through her teeth. A moderately convincing lie, but still a lie nevertheless. “I am your half-sister after all. I was only looking after you,” Brigit said rather sincerely.
So this woman was Gwydion’s half-sister? And the mystery continues to unravel, Merlin thought.
“I’m lucky to have you then,” said Gwydion, though he sounded like he didn’t take her words for the truth. “And was this sorceress Morgaine?” he asked her.
“Yes, that’s who she said she was. The Prince’s beloved half-sister. She’s very pretty, I thought. I know she’s not your type though.”
“I’ve been expecting her,” he said. “And I have what you want to manage your condition,” he assured her. An opaque bottle appeared in his hand.
Brigit reached out to take the bottle from him.
Gwydion held the bottle away from her. “Did you keep your promise not to hurt anyone?”
“I’ve been an angel, Gwydion. Truly I have,” she said all too sweetly.
Gwydion gave her a discerning look. “All right. It has been a while. I’ll help you now, and this potion should last you a year.”
“Thank you,” Brigit told him graciously.
Brigit’s eyes turned red, and when she opened her mouth, she revealed grown fangs.
She was a vampire.
In shock, Merlin stepped back in an unconscious move to get away from danger. Magic was real, there were other worlds, and now vampires were real too. Great.
Gwydion just stood there, unconcerned, as Brigit bit into his neck and drank his blood.
The scene faded away on that moment and Merlin was soon placed into another scene not long afterwards.
Now a paler-looking Gwydion was in his chambers with an undeniably beautiful dark-haired woman. She was sitting at the dining table, treating herself to some grapes in the fruit bowl.
“You don’t look well,” the woman remarked conversationally.
“I don’t care how I look to you, Morgaine,” he shot back as he sat down across from her. He pressed his palms upon his brow as if to relieve a headache. “I just want you to give me what you came here for. I’ve lived for over one thousand years and I’m tired.”
“Tired of your conditional immortality?”
Gwydion glared at her. “You may have chosen immortality, but I didn’t ask for it. I was one hundred years old. I was still mourning…well,” he paused, unable to say anymore. He cleared his throat. “Anyway. I woke up one morning to find out, inexplicably, that seventy years of age had been wiped away. I was a young man again. I wanted my birth father to change me back, to leave me to die of old age, but it wasn’t possible. So I decided to travel here, the world of my birth. I have had to live through hundreds of years. I’m tired of it.”
“You’re so amusing,” Morgaine commented, twisting her lips. “Anyone would love to be in your position. And at least your world believes in real magic. Better than a dull world.”
“Give me the information about where to hide my Raven Knife,” he ordered her. “And if that prophecy is true, then I can finally die as I should have centuries ago.”
“You have to find it first,” she challenged in amusement.
Gwydion gave her a sharp look. He stood up and asked her, “Stand up.”
Morgaine did so. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her toward him, and then he stuck his other hand down her bodice, retrieving a small piece of paper.
“Predictable, My Lady.”
“I couldn’t resist,” she said silkily, smiling at him. “The paper is blank. Only you can read it. At least according to the Prince. It’s such a peculiar prophecy that the Prince must find the best place to hide your cherished Raven Knife. He is far from fond of the Knife’s true wielder as you know.”
“Regardless, he is forced to follow the prophecy,” Gwydion said as he read the paper.
“And what is the location?” she asked curiously.
“You’re the last person I’d tell,” he said to her in a distrusting voice.
“Of course. How bold of me,” Morgaine said carelessly. “You know, maybe you won’t be a human next time. I’ve heard rumours.”
“Good,” Gwydion said firmly. “Living this long now as a human is enough for me. But don’t think not being a human will slow me down, Morgaine.”
“No. No. I’d never think that.”
And then the scene faded away. Merlin’s dream shifted again. He couldn’t help but wonder what this Raven Knife was and its importance, to have to be hidden according to a prophecy.
The next scene he came upon was much different than the others. Arthur was before him, dressed in medieval clothing, and he was pleading with him. Pleading for Merlin to forgive him. It was an odd sensation as he wasn’t an observer, but actually a part of this dream. Yet he couldn’t control his movements - he was trapped in this body and he was certain this time that this man was him. Or used to be him.
He found himself being cold with Arthur and walking away from him. Something unconscionable must have happened for Merlin not to forgive Arthur.
The dream ended abruptly, the feelings of intense frustration with Arthur still affecting him. He woke up in a cold sweat.
It was only when he woke up that he remembered that a white wolf with silver eyes had been beside Arthur. The creature had looked exactly the same as the one Cavall had mysteriously shape-shifted into.
Luckily, he hadn’t woken up Arthur. Merlin breathed out a sigh of relief. He heard the sound of small paws entering the room. Of course his little dog couldn’t resist taking a late night stroll.
Merlin climbed out of bed, and he took Lux into his arms. “What are you doing up? Do you ever sleep?” he whispered to the dog.
Lux only snuggled up to him, butting his head to cajole Merlin to pet him on the head, which Merlin did.
He smiled at his dog, and then he decided to consult the Diamantine Compass.
Upon silently asking it what Arthur had been seeking forgiveness for, Merlin didn’t gain an answer.
The Compass only had a picture of the night sky with a boy sleeping on the curve of a silver crescent moon. A fluffed pillow cradled the boy’s head and white stars twinkled in the miniature display of the evening sky.
“Maybe even the Compass needs to sleep,” Athena suggested.
Merlin rolled his eyes. This Compass was ridiculous, honestly. But then he decided that maybe he didn’t want to know what that last bit of his dream was about. Maybe it was too soon.
So he left that inquiry for another day. After settling Lux down in his doggy bed downstairs, Merlin went back to sleep.
He had work in the morning after all.
Part 2 -->