Merthur - The Blue Butterfly

Prologue: The Death of a Dragonlord

The boy squeaks and immediately the bucket and water all drop to the ground. Merlin peers out from around the corner, looking guilty as his father walks over and crouches down beside him. "What have I said about using magic?" he demands with a stern glare. 

Merlin looks down at his feet. "No magic when it's not lesson time."

"That's right. Now I don't want to catch you doing that again, especially not outside. Are we clear?" 

Merlin nods, keeping his head down. 

Balinor gives a gentle smile then pats the boy's head. "Good, now come on. Let's eat." He leads his son back to the table, who still looks glum from being scolded, and they sit down as Hunith joins them. She purses her lips at her son when she notices the disappointment on his face. She knows he wants to use magic, wants to be able to do the things his father can, but he's still much too young. Still too young to be able to control his magic properly. He's talented, even Balinor has admitted that, and he even has the makings of a powerful warlock, but she doesn't want anything to happen to him. If the others in the village find out they'd kill him. 

"I've told you, Merlin. You can only use magic when your father is giving you lessons. You can use it more freely when you learn more," she chides. 

Merlin pouts and doesn't reply. Instead, he grabs the spoon and starts stirring the contents of his bowl. Hunith sighs, looking to Balinor who only shakes his head and begins to eat. Hopefully, one day Merlin will understand why. "Now don't be like that," she says more softly than before, "how about I prepare some of the apples you brought as a snack after dinner?" 

Merlin perks up, "I can have apples after?" 

"Of course, but you have to finish everything in your bowl."

The little boy gives a wide smile. "Yay! Mum's the best!" he says, starting to gobble down large spoonfuls of stew.

Balinor chuckles before turning to his son with a mock expression of sadness. "What about Papa? Is Papa not the best?"

Merlin looks between his mother and father, looking conflicted as he tries to come up with an answer. "Papa's good too."

"Only good? Not best?"

"Mum's already the best! You can't both be best!"

Hunith giggles at her son's words and her husband's dejected expression. Balinor turns back to his bowl, picking at his stew as he mutters to himself about how Merlin doesn't love him anymore. 

"Papa! I still love you!" Merlin says as he tugs on his father's tunic, hoping to get him to smile again and to his delight his father does. Balinor bends down, scooping his son up in his arms as he snuggles against him until his son is giggling from the light scruff scratching against his face.  

The room seems to glow in front of Hunith as she watches the two people she loves the most in her life laughing and smiling with one another. She watches them contently, having long forgotten about the food in front of her as she giggles to herself at their shenanigans. The candle light flickers warmly on the table in front of her, casting a soothing light that seems to shut them all away in their own little world. 

But the illusion of peace is soon shattered. Never to be put back together again. A loud banging begins at the door, and at first there's only a few hard pound, no immediate cause for alarm, but soon the sound intensifies, growing in volume until the entire door is bending at the force. The hinges creak with each successive hit, allowing more and more of the darkness outside to enter the little house as the weakened metal gives way. A gust of wind blows through the crack, snuffing out the candle without difficulty and plunging the room into a silent darkness.