𝐁𝐎𝐊 𝐈, 𝐊𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐋 II
destiny arise
FIRE BLED AWAY INTO morning, fear evanesced with birdsong from the window ajar, and the comfort of her home replaced the landscape of thorns alight; a dreamland maze from which her subconscious could not flee, no matter how desperately she tried. Sleep, once a thing of sanctuary, was now well on its way to becoming a thing of torment instead. For someone who craved sleep as much as she, the monstrous shift was one Aurora Tyndale despised from the bottom of her heart, but it certainly gifted her a newfound appreciation for the vapidity of her daily life.
Once upon a time her soul hungered for the life of a worldwide wanderess; waking morning after morning to another day in the same place had been a seemingly perpetual disappointment. All she had ever known dwelt within the borders of the great Camelot and the wanderess she so desired to emulate often found it rather dull. It was the reason she would spent endless hours lost in the written word and any form of art she could reach, bringing about the color her monochrome reality lacked through volumes of myths, legends, maps and fairytales. Aurora had grown up since then and as the disappointment faded with the passage of time, she came to find peace and contentment with her life's simplicity.
A gentle knock disrupted the silence, and as a head of tawny curls peaked through the doorway, those lingering thoughts were fleetingly shadowed. "Just waking up, are we?"
"Tragically."
Their bond marveled many, for though she and Francis Tyndale were no more than cousins by law, they regarded one another as blood siblings would. It was all fun and games, done completely in love when they would bicker and torment the other as brothers and sisters were born to do. Occasionally, much to the annoyance of those around them, they may have gone a little far beyond the scope than most siblings dared, but that was simply who they were and who they would always be.
The floor creaked under his weight as he stepped into the dimly lit room, and if his hair alone wasn't enough basis for an assumption, his nightclothes-clad body helped her to gather that he'd just risen for the day as well. Her brows furrowed at the sight, for he was usually gone long before her. "What are you still doing here? Don't you have a forge to run?"
"It's Wednesday, Aurora. Shop doesn't open until midday."
Wednesday already, her inner voice huffed in disbelief. What is time?
"Since I've nowhere to be for hours, I thought I might walk you to work this morning."
"Lucky me." Her freckled features twisted into a grimace of annoyance as he ruffled her sleep-tousled hair, slapping his hand away instantly. "Why today?"
"Why do you never just do as I ask without question?"
"Because the last time I did so, you fractured my arm."
As telluric eyes drew to a close and a galled sigh freely heaved, a pleased grin spread across her face, only serving to provoke him more. "Heaven Almighty, Aurora, just get ready before I break your other arm."
Though he began to retreat from her room, the titian-haired menace sought to irritate him once more, and she knew just the thing to make him tick. "Instead of throwing empty threats my way, Francis, perhaps you should spend your time planning an engagement ring for the love of your life!"
"Shut up!"
With that cheeky grin lingering, the teenaged girl rose from the warm sheets to do as she was told, and in the twinkling of an eye, dressed in fabrics of sunshine and snow for the day ahead. Together, the two shared a quick breakfast before making their leave and the exchanges between them chased away residual nightmare thoughts into oblivion. As they stepped beyond the threshold of their home and into the bustling city, Aurora was met with the familiar simplicity she welcomed with open arms after the night she just had.
She truly loved the life she spent eighteen years building here. It was proving to be one of great fortune and love that prevailed through even the cruelest tragedies.
After the loss of her parents to a house fire during her infancy, she was taken in by her aunt and uncle, who had more love in a single touch than many would know in a lifetime. For many years, Leonidas Tyndale—a retired knight from Gimlé's glaive in the north—had been the kingdom's most revered jeweler, building and opening the forge with his bare hands after their migration south. Those of high and low estate, from the king himself to the simple peasant folk of the lower town, turned to him for whatever desires they had and he would always deliver far beyond expectations. He poured all he had into his work and that passion was something many remembered about him still, even years after his passing.
Upon the death of his father, the responsibility of the city's goldsmith had been Francis's inheritance. He chose to take up rather than following his father's path of knighthood (as he informed her in secret many a time, knighthood was a future he would only ever consider under the reign of Arthur)—much to the disappointment of many, for he was skilled in his craft. Like Leonidas before him, the work of a goldsmith was one he excelled in, praised highly by all who came to his door. The passion and devotion he held in every aspect of life, from his work to his longstanding courtship, motivated her to be the best version of herself every day. Though she loved to see him take after his father's success in molding metal into treasure, she couldn't deny that she hoped to one day see him don those gold-threaded, crimson vestments of knighthood; Francis was a rare man and Camelot needed more like him.
Her favorite family success story, however, would always be the one that centered around her beloved aunt. Upon their arrival to Camelot and the years that followed, Diane Skau-Tyndale served her family as a woman often did—taking care of the house and Aurora truly believed that if it weren't for her, that house would have never been made into a home. Though her role as the family's caregiver was one that she cherished wholeheartedly, she eventually came to learn that it was not where destiny intended for her to be forever.
During the final days of the former court scribe, as his sight began to deteriorate and his health began to decline, Diane took it upon herself to help him in any way she could and the kindness she carried in spades left a deep impression on the dying man's heart. As his final breath drew near, his one request was that no one other than Lady Tyndale would take his place and to the surprise of many, it was done. With the king's blessing, Diane overcame the barriers of gender in society to acquire a job most traditionally given to men of nobility alone. Though it angered many noble men (which Diane thought to be the best part of her ascension), Aurora couldn't have been prouder of her aunt for defying the odds and setting a shining example for young girls and women throughout the land.
The faint smile that always came at the thought of the only parents she'd ever known vanished in the blink of an eye, erased with the sound of thunderous percussion and the growing swarm in the courtyard, knowing well enough from years of experience that such an omen meant only that yet another execution was nigh. The two exchanged a knowing glance of dread as they made their way into the sea of people. The man they hardly recognized as Thomas Collins was led up the wooden platform, roughly forced onto his knees before the chopping block, stained with the blood of the many souls that came before him.
Above, a window of stained glass opened near the top of the citadel's western tower, and Aurora took notice of the ebon-haired young woman within, surveying the crowded square below with dolorous eyes. Morgana le Fay peered out from her open window, watching as something that had become a sickening familiarity took place on a day where the sun dared to shine. Aurora knew the melancholia her friend carried was far greater than her own, for she knew just how deeply Morgana felt all things. Both a blessing and a curse, as the lady herself once called it.
"Let this serve as a lesson to all: this man, Thomas James Collins, is adjudged guilty of conspiring to use enchantments and magic." Their stone-hearted king's voice carried like thunder and it often felt the people of the land had seldom known it any other way. "And pursuant to the laws of Camelot, I, Uther Pendragon, have decreed that such practices are banned on penalty of death. I pride myself as a fair and just king, but for the crime of sorcery, there is but one sentence I can pass."
Uther Pendragon's heart had hardened towards magic long before the Tyndale family even set foot in Camelot and the reason why was something completely unknown to her. It was never spoken of, as if the mere topic were poison and to utter a word meant certain death. Perhaps the truth was horrible enough to be considered just that—she did not know. All she knew was that the trigger must have been something unimaginable; even so, she couldn't imagine anything that might excuse the man's vicious war against magic and unrelenting genocide.
With a heart of stone, Aurora watched as the king gave way to the masked carnifex and the guards that held his latest victim prisoner. The earthquake tremble of the accused's body was proof enough of the fear he felt. Eyes of peridot fire followed the newly sharpened blade of the ax as it lifted skyward, transfixed in the worst possible imprisonment of the mind that rendered her unable to look away as it was brought back down—once, twice, thrice. Fresh blood mingled with the stains of those past and Thomas Collins was damned to roam among those troubled ghosts forevermore.
"When I came to this land, this kingdom was mired in chaos, but with the people's help, magic was driven from the realm." Her eyes fell to a close, but even still, she could feel and hear everything around her. "So, I declare a festival to celebrate twenty years since the Great Dragon was captured and Camelot was freed from the evil of sorcery. Let the celebrations begin!"
As the gathering began to disperse, the familiar lump of endless emotions began to form in her chest. Aurora took in a deep breath in an attempt to steady herself, beginning to turn away from the outside and head for the citadel with Francis at her side. Their movements ceased upon hearing an agonized wail echo throughout the crowd of familiar faces. Their curiosity gave them pause. People began to scatter, making it easier to take notice of the long-since-greying woman with grieving eyes, burdened with more pain than one could ever imagine without feeling it themselves.
"There is only one evil in this land, and it is not magic! It is you! With your hatred and your ignorance... you took my son!" Every bit of anguish could be heard in every stressed syllable, and the mere thought of losing a child left an unfathomable ache in the young girl's heart. As quickly as the weather could turn, the mother's sadness began to burn away into a thirst for vengeance. Hatred burned in her eyes as she glared upon the man she thought deserved nothing less than the raging fires of damnation. "I promise you, before these celebrations are over, you will share my tears. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a son for a son!"
The breath was stolen from the King's lungs with the threat on his son's life, but that faltered state didn't last for long, quickly replacing the flash of vulnerability with a heated anger that mirrored her own. His arm raised as he pointed a gloved finger in her direction, his voice as sharp as the blade that had stolen away her child's life. "Seize her!"
As the guards began their advancement, Mary Collins grasped the pendant chained around her neck and hissed a forbidden incantation of the Old Religion. The wind gained near tornadic speed as it surrounded her, whipping up stray dirt and dust from all around, and she blinked away within her self-made dust devil. Her disappearance left the tumultuous crowd both stunned and afraid for their own lives. Before that day, for many years, magic had been but a whisper among many of Camelot's people rather than something witnessed with the eye.
Up above, Morgana's window shut in a panic. Aurora knew she would have to stop by the lady's chambers to make sure she would be alright for the day. The eighteen-year-old sighed in tiresome disappointment over how the morning had so quickly progressed, wishing she'd just stayed in bed and cast all else away. But, like many around them, the Tyndale cousins chose to keep silent and return to their daily routines.
For a few months shy of three autumns, she'd worked under Camelot's court physician as the keeper of patient records, the assembler and recorder of recipes, the tracker of prescriptions and to whom they belonged and the translator of medical texts written in foreign tongue. While those were tasks he was certainly capable of doing himself, she knew that being the only source of healing in the entire city, with every daunting labor such a title entailed, would drain him to a zero. One day, out of the blue, she offered to work alongside him to share some of those burdens and she'd helped to shoulder them ever since.
She wandered the path to Gaius's chambers with Francis at her side, every step taking blindly by memory and habit alone; after spending so many hours here, she could have found the way in her sleep. Though the action was unnecessary at this point in time, Aurora always knocked before entering a room as a sign of respect, even if said door was wide open. After three taps and a welcome of entry, she pushed the creaking door to an open, revealing Gaius in the midst of taking a daily count of their herb supply.
"Child, how many times must I tell you there is no reason to knock?" He asked of her, wearing a teasing smile that didn't go unnoticed. "Oh, a very good morning to you, Francis."
"'Morning, Gaius." The young man grinned in greeting, happy to see a friendly face after what they'd just witnessed.
"You'll have to tell me so at least once more," she teased, smiling in return. "How's your morning been, Gaius?"
"Well enough. Yours?"
She shrugged, letting down the books she carried onto the table before her. "All was well until we stumbled upon yet another execution our king insisted on making a spectacle out of, where the life of his son was threatened as a result."
Francis clicked his tongue. "What she said."
The physician hummed in understanding. "Seems you should have taken the scenic route."
Aurora laughed, always grateful for the little comments he often made. "I'll keep that in mind for the inevitability of next time." Grabbing a leather-bound book in particular, she handed it to the physician. "Gerard Miller's prescriptions records are updated, as are Rowenna Fraiser's and Izak Bach's. Anything you need of me?"
"Thank you." He took the book from her hand. "If you would start with finishing the counting of our herbal collection and take the sleeping draft up to Morgana, that would be most appreciated."
"Of course."
With Francis offering his help for the first task, Gaius left them to it and made his way to the second level of his chambers—a rather claustrophobic overlook lined with endless shelves of books—to return the missing patient records with the rest. She couldn't lie, it always left her a little nervous whenever he (or anyone else for that matter) went up there due to the instability from years of wear. One little slip and they could come tumbling down like a mountain's avalanche.
A few moments of comfortable silence passed the chambers by before the sound of timid knocks chased it away, but the cousins were the only two to hear, and Aurora and Francis instantaneously turned to see the first unfamiliar face of the day. A boy with eyes like summer skies and fine crystal, fair skin mired in dirt from his weary travels from afar, looking as lost as any newcomer to the kingdom would.
Abandoning her task for the moment, she walked to the lost boy with a friendly smile on her face. "Hello. Can I help you with something?"
He had met plenty of beautiful women in his short time, but none quite like her. Each strand of hair was wrapped in the novel shade of a fiery sunset, irises as glittering and vibrant as jade, skin dusted with freckles like stars, and her lips truly shamed the red rose—all traits shared with many women in the realm and yet there was something about her which made her appear to be an angel walking amongst mortals. What that something was, he hadn't a clue, but it was enough to leave him embarrassingly flustered.
"I was just—I—" Clearing his throat, he wished away the nervous tremble his voice held since his arrival. "Is Gaius around?"
In the midst of turning to look over his shoulder, Gaius managed to lose his balance atop the small overlook and came crashing down through the railing. Panic swept through the chamber like a windstorm. Though it was a meaningless effort and done in vain, the cousins immediately leapt into action and rushed to his aid. Before they could get very far, Merlin's eyes scintillated magic's brilliant gold and time slowed to a near freeze, for all except him.
The stranger used that power to move the bed from its usual position across the room and underneath the falling Gaius, ready to catch him before he could collide with the hard floor and spare him from a number of shattered bones. Even once the frozen could fully move again, it took a few moments for their minds to clear from the magic-induced haze. Once it had, in perfect unison, the three gazed his way with horrified expressions; the only difference between them and most others was that they didn't appear to be scared of him, but scared for him. To be one like him in a land like theirs was a risky existence and they thought him to either be a boy of great valor or one of even greater idiocy.
"I—What did you just do?" Gaius demanded, though certain as could be that he already knew the answer. The boy stumbled over his words like an incoherent fool, unable to come up with a plausible lie on the spot. "Tell me!"
"Well, I—I have no idea what happened," he dumbly stuttered,and the shield he pathetically fought to keep up was failing even more by the second.
Aurora helped Gaius back to his wobbling feet. "If anyone else had seen that—"
The stranger was quick to cut her sentence short before it really began. "Oh no, that had nothing to do with me. That—that was—"
"We know exactly what that was." Francis gazed at him with an arched brow. "Just curious as to where you learned how to do it."
"Nowhere."
"So how is it you know magic?" Gaius asked.
"I don't!" His blatant lie would've been easy enough for Aurora to detect, even if the three of them hadn't just witnessed his power with their own eyes just seconds before. He was caught in its web, but still he persisted. She supposed she couldn't blame him, living in a world of hated for and persecution against those with magic. She'd be fighting to keep her secret in the shadows too.
"Where did you study?" Gaius insisted, refusing to back down by reason of what she assumed to be the boy's safety; the more the physician knew, the more he could help. The stranger paused for a moment and the time it took for him to respond wasn't quick enough for the old man. "Answer me!"
"I've never studied magic or been taught." The blue eyed boy finally answered, knowing there was no climbing his way out of the hole he'd dug himself. Given they had seen his powers with their own eyes, he couldn't dismiss visual evidence even if he wanted to.
"Are you lying to me, boy?"
Aurora's eyes narrowed curiously, staring the strange boy over as she studied his mannerisms in an attempt to determine whether or not he was withholding any truths. Nothing about him, from the way he carried himself to the way he spoke his words, gave her the sense of a liar. "I don't think he is, Gaius..."
Knowing when it came to detecting lies, his young apprentice proved to be right more often than wrong, Gaius considered the boy's words. "How? If you've never studied or practiced it, then how exactly do you know how to use it?"
"I was born like this."
"That's impossible!" There was a time Gaius would've wholeheartedly believed his own words, but now, with this stranger in their midst, he was starting to second guess things with doubts of his own. Instead of pondering, he finally asked the question that had been eating away at him since the moment he laid eyes on the unknown: "Who are you?"
"Oh, I have this letter." The boy's eyes lit up in remembrance, reaching into his bag to fetch a folded up letter before handing it off. "There."
"I—I don't have my glasses." Nevertheless, the physician took the letter from his hands.
"I'm Merlin. Merlin Wyllt."
A coruscation of recognition and confusion twined within the physician's eyes, not expecting the arrival of his visiting nephew just yet. "Hunith's son? But you're not meant to be here until Wednesday."
Aurora couldn't help but chuckle, relieved to know that it wasn't just her sense of time that was lost. Perhaps Gaius had rubbed off on her over the years. "It is Wednesday, apparently."
"Ah, right then." How time always managed to elude him was far beyond the physician's understanding, under the impression they were still living a Monday morning. Setting the confusion aside, he gestured back to the room behind him. "You better put your bag in there."
Though Merlin moved to do as instructed, his screaming anxieties brought his steps to a pause. With a nervous twinkling in his eye, he glanced their way once more. "You—You won't say anything about..."
"Your secret is safe with us," Aurora promised without delay, to which her cousin concurred with a sunny smile, quelling whatever fears the young boy had and replaced them with gratitude.
"Although, Merlin..." Faintly, Gaius smiled at him for the first time. "I should say thank you."
The trio watched as he disappeared into his new dwelling place and Aurora turned to face the physician with a slightly dazed, slightly horrified look on her face once he was no longer visible. "Well, this day just becomes more and more eventful by the minute, doesn't it?"
Gaius nodded, mind gone awry. "Indeed."
"I pray this is as eventful as it gets. Not sure I can take any more surprises." Francis sighed. "Are you alright, Gaius? That was quite the fall."
"I'm alright, yes. No harm done," the physician miraculously assured. "Would you mind fixing that up whenever you have the chance?"
"Of course," he confirmed without missing a beat. "Just allow me to retrieve my implements and I'll get right to it."
The physician and his apprentice watched as the young man left the room in a brisk departure, the elder of the two letting out a curious hum. "He's become rather good at fixing things, hasn't he?"
"Almost as good as he is when it comes to breaking things. Like bones." At her words, Gaius couldn't help but chuckle at the memory, knowing young Francis Tyndale would never live breaking his cousin's arm down for as long as he lived.
Once she finished taking count of their herb supplies, which took not even ten minutes longer, Aurora grasped the sleeping draft vial in the palm of her hand and made way to Morgana's chambers. As she wandered through the bustling halls of the stone castle she'd grown to know so well, her thoughts were traveling at a speed she didn't believe to be humanly possible and she worried that if her mind didn't slow down, it would be cast to the darkness between stars. From her own night terrors, Mary Collins's threat of retribution upon the prince of the land and finding out Gaius's nephew had magic, she couldn't bring her thoughts to cease. Not until she met the caring eyes of her two best friends.
During her younger years, Aurora had been far too overcome with an irrational fear of people (one she was lucky enough to escape as she got older, for the most part), making it difficult for her to build bonds and friendships with those around her. Despite this, there were few that she was lucky enough to befriend. Given her aunt's work, Aurora spent much time at the citadel over the years and so it wasn't a surprise that she eventually crossed paths with Morgana le Fay hiding away in an alcove. She had known the dark-haired beauty first as the daughter of the king's most trusted warrior, Gorlois le Fay, and as the king's ward, taken into his care after her father and mother both had passed on. As they were the only young girls, close enough in age and in certain personality traits, they had gotten on immediately. Over the course of fourteen years, their friendship had grown into a bond of sisterhood they shared with only one other person.
Between the two of them, Aurora was the first to meet Guinevere Smith, the daughter of the lower town's blacksmith who would go on later to become the Lady Morgana's maidservant during her fifteenth spring. At a young age, Francis had taken a particular liking to the curly-haired beauty, with whom he would rouse chaos and run about endlessly in the Darkling Wood beyond the city's walls. Eventually a courtship between the son of a retired knight and a common girl blossomed, frowned upon by many due to their differences in station, but he did not care; he loved her with all his heart and nothing else mattered. Aurora was drawn in by Guinevere's genuine soul and kind smile that she retained into womanhood. They would always say that no bond of friendship could be greater than the one destiny had blessed them with.
Both girls held a beauty unmatched, mirroring the luminaries of night, as Aurora often compared them to. Guinevere's eyes were a smoky brown, but if you were to get close enough, it would be easy to notice the little flecks of amber-gold. Her skin was a beautiful shade of brown, with unique freckles dusting across her cheeks and nose like constellations, framed by a beautiful head of tight curls she usually had pulled up in a bun, but not even the bun could withhold every rebellious strand. Morgana was the polar opposite, but just as beautiful. Her eyes were unlike any Aurora had ever seen before—a fusion of sea green and aqua framed by midnight lashes. Raven hair cascaded in waves down to her waist, bearing great contrast against her pale skin. Much of her charm came from the way she carried herself with such grace, dignity and kindness; those characteristics put her superficial appearance to shame.
Their beauty was like the moon and the stars, while they often compared her to the sun.
"Aurora, hello." Guinevere smiled in greeting and it was one the girl couldn't help but return.
Morgana was soon to follow. "I wasn't expecting to see you so early."
"Sorry to disappoint," the ginger teased. "Gaius asked me to bring you your sleeping draft... and I wanted to make sure you were okay."
The Lady's smile faded into a grim expression, one that did not become one so beautiful. "Did you see...?"
"Yes," Aurora confirmed.
Curls shimmering in the sunlight tumbled over Morgana's shoulder as she shook her head, but Aurora wasn't entirely sure if that was a direct answer or not. "Do you believe she'll go through with it? That she'll carry out her threat on Arthur's life?"
Aurora and Guinevere exchanged a glance. Though they wished to say otherwise, they couldn't. The hate in Mary Collins's eyes left no room for even a shadow of a doubt—whether or not she would succeed, she would attempt. "I fear she will, yes. She wouldn't be the first to try forcing Prince Arthur to death's door."
The mention of life's end and Arthur Pendragon in the same breath left Morgana with yet another weight on her heart, alongside the misery of seeing a mother lose a child before her very eyes. "Despite her threat against him, I can't help but feel for her. Is that wrong to admit?"
"Of course not." Guinevere shook her head, giving Morgana's hand a gentle squeeze. "I pity her, too. To lose a child... the pain is unimaginable. I can't even fathom..."
"Losing a child is one thing, but having the man who ordered his death decree a celebration right after is another," Aurora added, taking a temporary seat beside them. "I don't understand how he can sleep at night after all he's done... I wouldn't even be able to breathe..."
"Nor I," Morgana agreed, shaking her head in disbelief. "No parent should have to endure that kind of suffering... and her suffering is no cause for celebration. I just... I don't understand why he keeps punishing sorcerers for what was done decades ago."
Guinevere limply shrugged her shoulders. "He is a stubborn man. I fear these meaningless executions will never end."
None among them could disagree.
A heavy silence fell upon them as the gravity of truth made itself known—though they might wish it, they might never live in a world where magic and humanity would coexist in harmony. If they spoke their own truths, the three of them were beginning to challenge whether or not such a thing was even possible at all. Perhaps the world would always be the way it was now: war-torn, hateful, deadly. Perhaps it was the only world they and their children would ever know and what a heartbreaking reality it was.
Merlin...
Merlin...
Merlin...
THE YOUNG BOY'S EYES shot open upon hearing a voice calling out his name, the comfort of a good night's sleep immediately leaving his bones. His eyes flickered about the room in search of the voice's host, but no one was there. Nothing but shadows untouched by morning light lingered there. Merlin pondered the voice, eventually casting it aside as nothing but a figment of his imagination—a remnant of whatever dream immersed him before waking. What kind of dream had it been? He didn't know.
Reluctantly, he left the comfort of his bed (a major upgrade from the floor he'd been granted in Ealdor) and readied himself for the day ahead, unsure of what it would bring. Merlin hoped to take some time to explore the city, but as a newcomer in a place so colossal, he hadn't a clue where to begin nor a doubt in the world that he'd wind up lost before midday.
Slinging his jacket over his shoulders, he walked down the small set of stairs and into the physician's main chambers, where he noticed Gaius preparing what appeared to be breakfast and the one he recalled as Aurora putting remedies unknown together. To see them so awake and alert while he had just risen for the day left him both wondering what time it was and feeling rather lazy.
"I got you water," Gaius informed. "You didn't wash last night."
Merlin smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you."
Gaius then set a bowl upon the table. "Help yourself to breakfast."
The young sorcerer gazed down at the bowl of what appeared to be porridge, quite heavy on the water, as it appeared. He couldn't deny that the sight itself wasn't all that appetizing, but it looked much more appealing than many things he'd eaten before in his lifetime. As a child, he and a friend named William were notorious for making mud-pies after a rainstorm and for a while, he mistook the pie in the name as it being edible. In comparison to things of the past, the liquid porridge was almost a meal fit for a king.
Before he could take a bite, the bucket of water at his side began to fall as a result of Gaius not so subtly pushing it over in a test of sorts. Instinctively, his eyes glowed and his arm reached out, causing the bucket and its content to freeze in midair. From where she stood, the sight caused Aurora's eyes to widen in awe, wonder, and fascination. Once Merlin met Gaius's gaze, the bond between his magic and the bucket was broken and it fell to the ground, spilling and creating a mess everywhere.
Gaius paid little mind. "How did you do that? Did you incant a spell in your mind?"
Merlin shook his head. "I don't know any spells."
"So what did you do? There must be something."
"It just happens." That was the only answer he could give, and it drove him mad. There was nothing Merlin wished for than to know why he had these powers, what the extent of them was and why he was chosen. He had so many questions, but the answers never seemed to come. Always, much to his dismay, he was left hanging in oblivion.
The physician was utterly fascinated by the young boy before him, having never seen anything like him in all his years. Given how much time he'd spent in the world of magic in the past, stumbling upon something so new at such an old age was something unexpected and the boy under his care was a mystery he wished to solve.
But until they could dig deeper together...
"Well, we better keep you out of trouble. You can help us out until I find some paid work for you." Gaius's eyes flickered over to his apprentice. "Aurora, do you mind if he accompanies you on deliveries this morning?"
"Not at all," she confirmed, the smile she sent in his direction leaving him momentarily flustered for the second time since his arrival. "Perhaps we can kill two birds with one stone here and I can show you a bit of the kingdom while we're at it."
"Y-Yeah, that'd be great."
"Here." Gaius set two different prescriptions on the table, both enclosed in either a small bag or vial, holding one up before the other. "Hollyhock and Feverfew for Lady Percival, and this is for Sir Olwin. He's blind as a weevil, so as always, warn him not to take it all at once."
Aurora nodded in confirmation of understanding, handing off Sir Olwin's potion to Merlin while she kept Lady Percival's prescription. "In all his years taking this medicine, you'd think that instruction would've stuck with him by now."
"If he were many years younger, perhaps it would. Off you go." He first sent them off, but held them back for one more second once a particular thought came to mind. "And Merlin, I need hardly tell you that the practice of any form of enchantments will get you killed."
Bidding their elder a temporary farewell, the pair left the physician's chambers in the dust and began their way to the respective noble households. Merlin followed her like a sheep would follow after its shepherd, careful not to get lost on the path he didn't know; he hoped to memorize at least some of Camelot by day's end.
"So, Merlin," she broke the silence between them, "how are you settling in so far? I'm sure Gaius is treating you well."
"Very well on both counts, thank you." He smiled lightly, blue eyes glancing about the towering castle surrounding them at all ends. "I think I'm going to like it here."
Aurora returned his smile. "Glad to hear it. Just let me know if there's anything I can do to help you get settled."
"You're doing it now," he said. "Thank you for offering to show me around. This place is... slightly intimidating when you haven't a clue where you're going."
"Only slightly?" She inquired. "I figured this place would terrify you given how it treats people of certain talents, such as yourself."
"Yes... There's also that."
"Worry not. Your secret is safe with the three of us and so long as you hide your talents from the public eye, no threat will reach you. Gaius will make certain of that, as will Francis and I."
"Really?"
"Well, Gaius might have better luck as he's more familiar with your world, but the two of us will certainly try."
"Thank you." Just knowing that, Merlin could finally say he felt at peace, wholeheartedly and undoubtedly.
While the visit to Lady Percival went without consequence, Aurora shouldn't have been surprised when Sir Olwin drank the entirety of his potion in one sitting. He'd inhaled every drop the moment it touched his fingers, far before Aurora or Merlin could caution him against doing just that. Lucky for the old man, the effect of taking it all at once would only grant him an afternoon of sleeping like the dead, rather than anything of a serious nature; knowing this, the two could laugh it off.
As promised, Aurora had taken some time out of her day to give him a tour around the city and she made certain to leave no stone unturned. Going into this, Merlin hadn't expected to receive a history lesson every time they passed certain landmarks (like the monastery or the cathedral, for example), but he found the stories of Camelot's past rather fascinating, especially being spoken by one who harbored such passion. How strange it was to be in such a large city, built upon centuries of history and legend alike; the immensity was far greater than a mere villager could ever hope to fathom.
As Aurora led him throughout the city alive with Camelot's people, he couldn't miss the sea of eyes that caught sight of him. When he questioned it, his guide merely said that the townspeople always took a slight interest in newcomers, especially when they were there to stay. Merlin was nervous when she started introducing him to people that she knew so well, but nevertheless, he sent a smile and greeted them, unable to deny that he was thrown off by their warmth. Kindness radiated from every glance, every word and every smile. It was almost overwhelming, but in the best possible way.
It wasn't until the two of them reached the training grounds, across the drawbridge at the castle's towering walls, that Merlin had witnessed the first act of unkindness of the day.
While Merlin hadn't a clue in the world who those men were, Aurora knew them all by name. Three knights-in-training—Alistair, Jude, and Isaiah—along with the prince of the land, Arthur. The first three had once been bearers of kind hearts, but they'd grown into bullies over the years and she'd witnessed before just how rotten to the core they could be. More often than not, it seemed, Arthur continued to follow them down that path.
The servant she also recognized as poor Morris Grimsby positioned himself differently, still trying so hard to avoid the prince's gaze for too long out of fear. "There, Sir?"
Arthur squinted against the light of day. "It's in the sun."
"But, it's not that bright."
"A bit like you, then?" Those she couldn't even call Arthur's friends shared a laugh at the servant boy's expense, but Morris continued to remain as civil as always, which was something she never understood. How he remained calm and collected when treated in such a manner was unfathomable to her.
"I'll put the target on the other end, shall I, Sir?" Morris's voice came out in a stammer, almost panicked, as he moved towards the wall in hopes of keeping it from the blinding daystar.
Arthur didn't wait for him to stop. Retrieving a dagger from the belt around his hops, he effortlessly threw it towards the wooden target, etching itself into the red dot in the middle. An easily made bullseye, but one so unexpected for poor Morris.
It continued on like that, with Camelot's future defenders and their ringleader tormenting a serving boy, who nearly tripped over his own two feet with ever step he took. Aurora recalled how the Knights of Camelot were supposed to be the paragon of integrity and virtue, but the sight she and Merlin were around to witness proved those words to be false. Men of integrity and virtue would not act so unrefined and ill-mannered to those so undeserving.
Merlin leaned closer to Aurora, a look of repugnance upon his visage as he gazed at the windswept blond yards away. "Who is that boorish prat?"
Her response was lost before she could even breathe as Morris tripped and fell onto the cobblestone below, losing the target from his grasp on the way down. As he scrambled to retrieve it, a foot pressed it against the ground. The humiliated servant looked up to see the unfamiliar face of Merlin coming to his aid and soon enough, all eyes in the vicinity followed.
Aurora's eyes widened as the young sorcerer stepped forward, without hesitation, taking notice to the fire in his eyes as he kept his own gaze upon the prince. "Hey, come on. That's enough."
From where he stood, Arthur was momentarily stunned that someone had the audacity to speak out against him. "What?"
"You've had your fun, my friend."
Given his infamous sense of pride, Aurora knew Camelot's prince wouldn't take kindly to someone standing up against him in such a public setting, but she was far too amazed by what she was witnessing to spend much time worrying about what he would do in the end. Truth be told, it was nice to see someone put him in his place when all others were often too afraid to do just that.
That sense of nonchalance didn't last for long. From the spot Merlin had left her, Aurora watched on nervously as the prince closed the distance between himself and the brunet boy. "Do I know you?"
"I'm Merlin." He reached out his hand for the prince to shake, but the gesture was ignored.
"So, I don't know you." He concluded.
"No."
"Yet you called me friend?"
"That was my mistake." With every word Merlin spoke, Aurora grew to not like his worn expression even more, fearing he would do something stupid before she could stop him.
"Yes, I think so."
"Yeah, I'd never have a friend who could be such an ass." Merlin sassed, making his friend's emerald eyes widen in disbelief.
The sorcerer turned to walk back to the waiting Aurora, but Arthur's words stopped him in his tracks. "Or I one who could be so stupid. Tell me, Merlin, do you know how to walk on your knees?"
"No."
"Would you like me to help you?"
"I wouldn't if I were you." Merlin always seemed to keep the same face that screamed a certainty and secrecy that intrigued her. Most cowered in fear at the very thought of going up against Arthur, but he didn't seem afraid for even a moment.
"Why? What are you going to do to me?"
The brunet boy chuckled dryly, ignoring the small crowd that had begun to gather around them. "You have no idea."
"Be my guest!" A pompous laugh escaped Arthur's lips as he held his hands up in mock surrender. "Come on! Come on! Come ooon!"
Just when she believed Merlin's judgement couldn't possibly become more clouded, he locked his fist and took a swing at the Prince of Camelot, as if he were some drunkard met in a bar. His attempt proved not to matter. Speed was one of Arthur's greatest strengths—the chance of that punch so much as grazing him was almost nonexistent and Aurora cringed when he managed to cage the boy's arm, twisting it behind his back.
Whatever was said remained unknown to her, but Aurora knew that in the midst of those harsh words and by the expression dawning upon his face, her newest friend finally found out just who he was dealing with. She thought that would change a great deal, but it didn't. Even as he was being pulled away by armed guards and likely thrown in the cells, he didn't show any sign of regret.
Aurora knew many who would say that standing up for another against injustice would be worth a thousand years spent under lock and key, but when such instances arose, they failed to follow through with their word out of fear. Never before had she come across someone who would not only be willing, but without regret once the consequences came forth. She was impressed by the heart Merlin possessed and she commended him for it.
Once her eyes landed upon Arthur's form, however, her emotions came to a boil beneath her skin, blood echoing sun-fire heat. Vexation illuminated every inch of her features as she watched he returned to his friends, whooping and hollering along with them as if what just transpired was something to be proud of. She couldn't imagine what kind of person could enjoy tearing down and humiliating another living soul. Before she could stop herself, Aurora marched forward.
"You really can't help yourself, can you?" The tone of her voice was malicious as poison and while the heat it bore wasn't enough to stop the guards from taking her new friend away, they were enough to get the brutes' attention.
The group of young men all but glued to the prince's side were thrown by how yet another dared to speak out against the Heir of Camelot in any way, especially in such a bold and temerarious manner... until they saw who it was. Dignified as she held her head high, faultless in her stare, they were reminded that to whom she spoke was truly of no consequence, just as it had always been in the past.
"He was out of line and needed to be put in his place," one of Arthur's companions, Isaiah, said, speaking as if there was nothing unjust about what just occurred. To him, perhaps not a thing was unjust in the least, but to those carrying actual human souls, everything was.
"Helping the boy you were tormenting for no reason whatsoever was out of line? Reason enough to be thrown in jail?" Her eyes narrowed at the audacity, scoffing out a breath of disbelief. "Lands far and wide have always learned that the Knights of Camelot were masters in the art of integrity and virtue alike... How disappointed they'll be to hear the truth behind those whispers is slipping further away with each generation. What I just beheld proved that beyond a doubt."
Aurora did not answer him. Instead, her eyes held Arthur's gaze—eyes she'd grown up knowing, but with each passing day, she feared they would soon become the eyes of a stranger. Whatever malice and anger she once held had faded, but he could clearly hear the fierce sting of disappointment in her words, and he could visibly see it in her stare. There was nothing worse than disappointment, Arthur thought, especially when it spawned from the one he'd always considered a best friend:
"I know this isn't who you are, but if this is the kind of person you're choosing to become, then I truly fear for the future of Camelot. No one wants a feckless boy as king."
My favorite part about Maleficent's curse is even though she cursed her to essentially burn alive from the inside out, she also decided to let this girl be outrageously beautiful and intelligent during her living years.
I just love her.