Mykonos 5/16
| Masterpost| Part Four|
It was clear what Gaius was referring to as soon as Merlin stepped clear of the fence. While there were mounds of land, easy to jump from one to the other if you took care, the rest of the space between the fence boundary and the tower rising up above them and arching away was dominated by water.
Occasionally, ruins poked through the surface, like the church spire over to their left. The stone was crumbled, but the shape unmistakeable, ruins like those back on Ealdor, sending a jolt of pain through Merlin’s chest as he thought of his Island, his home.
Those thoughts were soon banished though as Merlin saw the slightly withered form ahead of him. It was a tree, something he’d only ever seen in story books, and while they were far greener and bushier in the pictures, this was still a real-life, living tree.
“It’s a tree,” Merlin said stupidly, causing both Gaius and Eigyr to turn around in amusement.
“The drowned world is fortunate enough to have its own sorts of plants. Some we get food from and others we can make our clothes from, though without the waste from the Sky City we’d never be able to sustain ourselves,” Gaius said simply, continuing to lead their path through the boggy land.
“Camelot gives you things?” Merlin asked, slipping slightly through a thick patch of mud. He looked up to see where Gaius was headed, trying not to stray too far from him, when he noticed Eigyr’s wide eyes staring at him. There was something in her look, but Merlin couldn’t place it and dismissed it.
“It depends on your definition of ‘give’ I suppose,” Gaius muttered. “But whatever they do not need, they’ll dump down in the wastes they rose from.”
He stopped suddenly, turning thoughtfully to look at Merlin, again. “Not many people call it Camelot anymore,” he said casually. “At least not since they shut their gates against the refugees, and that was around twenty years ago now.”
Merlin didn’t miss the look Gaius shot Eigyr, but he had no idea what it meant. There was something deeper here, but Merlin had his own problems to deal with.
“When you say ‘shut’ I suppose there aren’t any ways to get into Camelot then?” Desperately hoping for Gaius to shake his head, Merlin held his breath, sucking in his bottom lip as he waited for an answer.
“The only ones who get into Camelot are the police and the ones they take from the Pickings. Otherwise it’s an impenetrable fortress,” Gaius said matter-of-factly, taking a few careful steps forward and holding his hand out to help Eigyr across a small channel of water.
The water in here was, oddly enough, still. It wasn’t as though Merlin had never seen ponds or patches of still water, but it had never been this big, this encompassing. There weren’t any waves, blocked by the fence, and even though there was clearly a current in the water, it was smooth and unlike what Merlin was used to. These druids didn’t have to fear the water like everyone else down here, instead it seemed that they thrived off of it.
The druid camp was nested on the same side of the island as the refugee camp. The first thing Merlin noticed though, between the tower jutting upwards and the camp just coming into view, was another fence, this one controlled by loch gates and clearly manned. It was still a way off, easily a four hour or so walk, but the shapes of the police boats were clear, milling in the wide, obviously human-dug waterway that clearly led from the gate at the refugee camp.
“They come through with the Pickings,” Gaius said, having stopped to wait for Merlin to catch up. “Drive them through here and straight up to the gates, never to be seen again.”
The subject was brushed off, Gaius squaring his shoulders and gesturing for Merlin to follow Eigyr as she picked an obviously familiar route, drawing closer and closer to the campsite.
It was the kind of place Merlin had read about in books, with crooked tents and trees bent so that they provided the main source of shelter. They were protected from the wind thanks to the fences in the drowned lands, but the rain still fell from above and there was a hand-made tarpaulin tacked to some of the tent roofs where the trees couldn’t provide shelter, made from old plastics and shopping bags.
Merlin smiled slightly. It was surreal to see objects and materials he had only read about or seen pictures. While they were once commonplace objects, no one after the floods needed shopping bags, at least not plastic ones that could break easily. Most objects of the Old World were forgotten, lost in photographs and books only, only to be used in such strange ways in the last place you would even expect life.
There wasn’t anyone out in the open when Gaius and Eigyr stepped into the camp, but it didn’t seem to bother them. For a terrible moment, Merlin wondered if they were the only two left, until a tall man in a long robe stepped out, mud caked to the lower half of his clothing.
“Gaius,” he greeted warmly, clasping the old man’s arm before smiling to Eigyr and greeting her also. “I trust your visit to the wild children was well?”
Merlin watched as Gaius nodded, drawing the man aside a little.
“I fear they’ve increased patrols.” Gaius looked tired and he shifted the medical pack in his hands a little. “There’s less children and it fits with the increased boats moving out to take their Pickings.”
The tall man shook his head, a frown creasing his forehead, only to be replaced as he noticed Merlin.
“We thought you were bringing Mordred back?” he asked, looking sharply at Gaius.
“Mordred refused, as usual. He’ll come back in his own time, I’m sure. The argument they had was over something delicate and while I know he’s hardly safest out there, you’d have more luck trying to drain the ocean itself than drag him back unwilling.” Gaius gave a snort of laughter and the man he was talking to tilted his head, conceding to the point just made.
“True,” he said, deep voice dipping into amusement. “But that still doesn’t explain him.”
“Merlin Emrys,” Merlin said, mostly because he doubted Gaius remembered his name, but partly because he was sick of not saying anything. “From the Island of Ealdor.”
The reaction he got from that wasn’t what he’d expected. The three druids drew in sharp, identical breaths and both men’s eyes flickered over to Eigyr. She was even paler than she had been before, blue eyes wide and cheeks hollowed as he mouth was open in shock.
Not knowing why, after all he hadn’t said anything more than he had before to just Gaius and Eigyr, Merlin looked between them all at their reaction.
“What is it?” he asked, nervousness settling in.
No one spoke for a moment, the rustling of hidden people behind nearby tent walls the only sound aside from the slosh of the waters around them, and Merlin almost asked his question again when he received a surprising answer.
“Emrys?” was whispered, only just audible. Merlin turned, shocked, to look at Eigyr and nodded.
She spoke again. “Of the Ocean,” she said softly, eyes darting over to Gaius.
A memory spiked in Merlin’s brain, from weeks - months even - ago. The dragon had called him the same name, but what did it mean?
“I’ve heard those words before,” he said hurriedly, trying to catch the gaze of any of the druids, but they were masters of avoiding him. Maybe they knew the dragon, maybe the dragon was free to roam where it pleased and maybe, oh just maybe, they could show him to the dragon.
And through that, solve Merlin’s problems and get his life back.
“And you’ll no doubt hear them again,” the unnamed man said with a furrowed brow, inspecting Merlin as though he was some great curiosity that had been gifted to them from their gods. “But that will have to wait.” He clapped his hands, sending a weighted look to Gaius and Eigyr. “No doubt you’re hungry and you’d want to clean up properly and change clothes.”
His tone indicated no room for argument, so Merlin obeyed, his need for food overwhelming his curiosity. Plus, it was as the man had said; he wasn’t denying the information outright, stating they’d talk later when Merlin could be more focused.
It didn’t take long for the man - Aglain he introduced himself a few moments later - to hand Merlin’s responsibility to Gaius and leave. The elderly man nodded, speaking in a low tone to Eigyr before she walked off, leaving just the two of them behind.
“Right then,” Gaius muttered. “Until we have a proper use for you, I’ll have you as an apprentice or helper, or whatever you want to be called.” He offered Merlin a genuine smile before picking through the tents, swaths of colour bright in the gloom and so different to the refugee camp, though they were, in essence, identical.
While the camp outside had been smelly, full of noise and desperation, the druid camp was calm, almost peaceful. Occasionally people peered out of their tents to smile at Gaius and eye Merlin curiously, but for the most part, they were left alone. The almost-solitude was welcoming after so many days crushed with so many strangers.
“There’s a small tent on the back of mine. I usually use it to store big supplies if they ever wash up, or house the particularly grievously injured… but it’ll do well for you.” Gaius bustles under a sheet of strange fabric, clearly hand woven and yet dyed as though it belonged to the Old World.
“How..?” Merlin begun, but stopped as he saw the glint in Gaius’ eye and the slight curve on his lips.
“You might not believe me, but there are some amongst the druids who are gifted. They use these talents to ensure our survival and that includes providing food and materials so we can live.” Merlin’s breath hitched as he realised what Gaius was talking about, that while he also had a gift, he wasn’t alone.
“Of course it’s very little magic can provide. The power of the Old Religion was buried long ago, centuries before the Floods even, but we do what little we can to survive,” Gaius finished, placing his medical kit down onto a table he had in the tent, shuffling through it and putting the assorted equipment away.
When he’d finished, picking through the organised chaos that Gaius called his home, the man clasped Merlin’s shoulder, leading him over to a large basin, a yellow-stained bath.
“Here’s the bath,” Gaius said simply, as though Merlin was raised like the wild children and bathed in the dirty sea rather than in civilisation. “And if you’d give me a moment, I’ll have it filled for you.”
Merlin was about to ask how when he realised that the people with ‘talents’, as Gaius had said, included the man himself.
In amazement, Merlin watched as Gaius muttered some words and the bath filled with water. The words were familiar, soothing, and they settled under Merlin’s skin, warm and comforting. Steam rose off of the murky water until Gaius drew in a deep breath, his body shuddering and he lay a hand on Merlin’s arm to steady himself.
“Sorry,” he began apologising, before his eyes widened and he looked down to where they were touching.
Merlin already knew why Gaius was looking at him in such a manner. He could feel his magic, clearer than he ever had before, and it was flowing. It poured into Gaius, strengthening the man where he had become weaker through drawing the bath.
“Merlin?” he muttered, voice pitched higher and incredulous. “You’re a sorcerer?”
Automatically, Merlin shook his head. “No, I mean… you can obviously feel it, but I’ve never been able to control it. Sometimes my magic was there, but mostly it wasn’t.” It was a relief to finally be able to tell someone about his gifts and while Hunith had listened intently, she’d already known and had hidden it from Merlin.
“My mother said I could move things before I could walk, but I can’t anymore. I didn’t even know I had magic until I found the stone-“
Gaius suddenly span Merlin around, gripping both of his shoulders and peering into his eyes as if he was trying to see through Merlin’s very soul.
“What stone boy?” he asked sharply and Merlin’s hands scrambled at his thigh, digging down into his pocket to remove the stone.
It looked smaller than before, fitted to Merlin’s palm and dark, pulling Merlin’s magic to itself. Gaius clutched Merlin’s hand underneath, staring at the stone in shock.
“Where did you…” Gaius trailed off, looking at Merlin with something akin to horror in his eyes.
“It washed up on the shore,” Merlin replied quickly, unsure what Gaius was thinking. He knew it wasn’t too late for the druids to turn him away and retract their hospitality and, for a strange reason, he wanted Gaius to like him.
Who else was there? His family and friends were gone and Mordred clearly only looked out for himself. The druids were his only chance now and Merlin resolved that he couldn’t waste this chance.
“What do you mean? Ealdor has to be miles away, how could it have just washed up on the shore?” Merlin shook his head, searching Gaius’ eyes.
“What do you want me to say? I’ve told you the truth,” he barrelled on, desperately. “It washed up on the shore and I took it home. I didn’t know it was magical until later.”
Gaius looked at him considering something yet entirely silent. Merlin found himself holding his breath under the weight of Gaius’ look, until the man drew himself up, nodding to the bath.
“I think we need to discuss some things together before we join the others. Bathe,” he ordered and Merlin couldn’t find any part of him that wanted to argue with that idea. “And I will fetch you some clean clothes.”
After Gaius had left the tent, Merlin moved to the edge of the bathtub, dipping a hand into the water. While it wasn’t the cleanest, Merlin had never bathed in anything completely clear and the heat of the water was enough to discard any thoughts he may have had before all of this. At this moment in time, Merlin would have been happy to bathe in used bathwater if it had meant he’d be fresher and warm.
Placing the stone on a nearby table, Merlin grimaced as he removed his clothes. They were crusted and made strange noises as he tried to pull the fabric away from his body. He was caked in dirt and just removing the clothes was a relief, one that was soon overwhelmed as he sunk into the hot water, sighing loudly.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a bath. Back in Ealdor it took a long time to heat water on the stove and then carry it to the bath, but occasionally it had been worth all the effort.
There was only one problem now; Merlin was drawing on his memories of Ealdor with nothing else to distract him. It was something he didn’t want to get into right now and so he cast his gaze around the room, looking for a bar of soap to scrub at his skin. He found one on the floor beside the bath and wondered if he’d be able to use his magic to bring it upwards.
Merlin could still feel his magic, as though it had burst from the container in his chest and run through his body. It was settling all over, under his skin and in his bones, permeating every single cell in Merlin’s body.
“Right,” he muttered though his teeth, “Okay.”
He looked at the soap bar, focusing on it entirely. He felt the magic build inside of himself, rising to his will, and he wished for the soap to come to him with everything he could muster.
It remained stubbornly on the ground though and Merlin clenched his jaw, trying again. When that failed, he brought a hand out of the water, moving it upwards as though the movement would help the soap and his magic.
Merlin was unsure how many times he tried to move the soap, but none of them succeeded and he, eventually, gave up, picking the bar up with his fingers and dipping it into the water.
Even now, when his magic had reacted to Gaius’ and he could use it to help people, it refused to cooperate. What use was his magic when he couldn’t access it, couldn’t do anything with it?
Maybe Gaius would know or, failing that, then any of the other druids. They had acted strangely before around Merlin so maybe there was a reason for it, that they had felt his magic and knew it was different to theirs or… just something, anything. There had to be a reason or else he’d condemned his people to leaving their Island for no other reason than testing his magic, toying with it.
“Merlin?” a voice called from outside, Gaius evidently having returned with clothing. “I’m coming in.”
Scrubbing harder at his skin, Merlin shot Gaius a smile and sloshed slightly in the bath.
“Thank you,” he said before standing, hardly caring that Gaius would see him naked. Merlin had never been a prude before and it was impossible to remain one when you had lived in the harshest of conditions before, where some winters were so bad that you had to huddle up with the livestock and villagers you barely knew just to remain alive.
Besides, he and Will had been running around the beaches of Ealdor naked since they were small children. Just because that particular habit may have stopped hadn’t suddenly brought down waves of embarrassment on Merlin’s part, and he knew just by looking at Gaius that the old man didn’t care either.
Merlin was handed a towel and Gaius made a show of placing the clothes down, letting Merlin know where they were before he moved off to one of the desks, taking seat on one of the benches, pouring out a drink and organising something on the table.
The clothes provided were simple; a blue tunic and brown trousers, clearly made with the help of magic. They were softer than any other clothes Merlin had ever worn and his magic prickled as it recognised the magic that had spun the clothes, causing Merlin to shift a little uncomfortably.
“Here,” Gaius said, gesturing to the bench opposite him and a plate of food next to the cup of water he’d set down.
Merlin tucked into the bread eagerly before looking at the slices of ham in slight reverence.
“Where did you get this?” he asked, looking up at Gaius. Even back on Ealdor meat had been scarce as livestock dwindled.
“We keep animals,” was the simple reply and Merlin wondered if he should just expect the druids to be fully functioning and capable in just about every aspect of life.
“I think we need to talk about you though,” Gaius said seriously. “You were born on Ealdor?”
Merlin swallowed the mouthful of food, eagerly tearing back into the bread before he spoke. “Never left the Island until I came here. That’s what life for us is like,” he added, in case Gaius doubted that he had come from an Island.
Gaius nodded, looking away from Merlin to the tent wall.
“And your parents?” he prompted, turning his gaze onto Merlin and making him feel like a five year old who had been caught sneaking food for a secret picnic.
“My mother was born on Ealdor. Her whole family had been, for generations, and she was all I had left.” Merlin wasn’t going to say anything about his father unless Gaius needed to know.
Even if Gaius had known him, as far-fetched as that was, Balinor was still just a secret Merlin could hold in his chest and not have to talk to anyone about. No one had known Balinor, and neither did Merlin save for the fact his father had passed his magic down to him, their hidden, secret connection.
“I don’t want to pry,” Gaius began slowly. “But your father?”
“Dead. He died a long time ago,” Merlin was quick to say. He avoided Gaius’ eyes, as if that could stop the man from continuing his questions.
“I know we hardly know each other,” Gaius said softly, “But there’s something that you need to know, something that could change everything for you. I cannot tell you, however, unless you tell me who your father was.”
He didn’t know why he was uneasy to tell Gaius about his father, not really. He could already tell that Gaius knew the answer - why else would he be so pushy? - and that his answer would, as Gaius had said, change everything for Merlin. Still, there was a part of him that wanted to keep the answer hidden, keep everything simple.
Merlin knew that, whatever it was Gaius wanted to hear and whatever he was going to say after, would make things more complex. It was something larger than just Merlin alone, something that was terrifying, something Merlin didn’t want to think about. He was only there to find his family; he didn’t need to hear what the druids wanted.
“My father wasn’t born on Ealdor,” Merlin admitted slowly, ignoring the breath Gaius sucked in. “His name was Balinor and my mother said he fled Camelot.”
He turned his gaze to look at Gaius, noting the shock in the old man’s eyes and wondering what was so special about his father, what was so special about Merlin himself for that matter.
“My boy,” Gaius said quietly, shaking his head slightly. “I knew your father.”
Although he’d guessed as much, it was still a shock to hear Gaius say such a thing. Merlin looked at him before turning away.
“I didn’t,” he said. “I never knew him and my mother never spoke of him until she found out my magic had returned. And even then…” Merlin cut himself off, trying not to think of all the things he’d never had, possibly never would. “But why does my father change everything? He left Camelot, he’s dead.”
Gaius nodded slowly. “That much is true,” he said, taking a sip from his own goblet and sighing. “Your father was a trusted member of King Uther’s court.”
Whatever Merlin had been expecting to hear about his father, it hadn’t been this. Balinor was supposed to be just a man, perhaps a noble one, for Hunith had mentioned he knew Queen Ygraine, but never a trusted man. A trusted man wouldn’t turn his back on a kingdom and flee without reason, after all.
“Obviously you know nothing of Camelot’s history, but around twenty years ago, Queen Ygraine vanished.” There was something more, something Gaius didn’t want to say, but it was hardly Merlin’s place to pry. “King Uther was furious, hoping to pin the blame on the people the queen had trusted in hope they’d come forward and tell him where she was, but none of them took the bait.”
Barely processing what Gaius was saying, Merlin nodded quickly, wanting to hear more.
“Nobody knows the true circumstances of what happened to Ygraine, but her friends were either cast out of the Court or exiled from Camelot itself. Your father was one of the exiled and he chose to set out over the oceans rather than remain with us.” Gaius’ voice was weary and it was just then that another thought hit Merlin.
“You’re speaking as if you were there,” he pointed out, already guessing that Gaius had been there.
“I was,” Gaius acknowledged, bowing his head a little. “I was appointed Court Physician at a young age and I lived to serve my King and Queen. When…” Gaius paused, brow furrowing. “After everything that had happened, it was too dangerous to remain in Camelot.”
Merlin wanted to ask why, push Gaius further, but he knew he had no right to. He might never know the full story behind the Queen’s disappearance, or why Gaius had chosen to flee when he had mentioned being the king’s man as much as the queen’s, but Merlin wasn’t on Ealdor anymore and he had to content himself with what he did know, rather than what he wanted to know.
“I can’t tell you everything,” Gaius said and Merlin nodded. “Given time, I might have to - though I hope it doesn’t come to that. But you have to be told about the prophecy, which was why I needed to know who your father was.”
Sucking in a breath, Gaius began again. “Magic was once great and prosperous across the land. Even when the Floods rose and the Sky Cities were built, magic helped forge kingdoms. Only small acts, the main power of the land was lost years ago, but it was still an integral part of the New World.”
Merlin watched as Gaius clutched his goblet, clearly thinking about how he could phrase the rest of what he needed to say.
“Most of the natural magic, such as the creatures and the places of ancient wonder, were lost to the water. The first rulers sent an expedition to hone out a cave buried under the water, a place that was rumoured to be the beginning of all magic.” Gaius looked over to where Merlin had placed his Obsidian on a table by the bath, nodding to it.
“That crystal comes from that cave. It is a device of prophecy, one that even the most powerful sorcerers feared.” He paused, darting a look over to Merlin. “Before they were locked away, a prophecy was made that a man would rise up to save his people. The name they gave to that man,” Gaius said, eyes meeting Merlin’s, “Was Emrys of the Ocean.”
Looking away, Merlin wanted to deny it. Sure his magic was meant for something, but not that. Nothing great as saving people, nothing as big as having a prophecy hanging over his head. He was just a simple boy from an Island, nothing more. He wasn’t destined to do anything except find the dragon, tell him he’d lied and…
Oh.
The dragon hadn’t lied, had it? It had called him Emrys of the Ocean and told him to save his people. Only Merlin had assumed he’d meant the people of Ealdor, but it was much, much too big for that.
“Only those with great power could even dream of wielding the stones,” Gaius continued, ignoring the fact that Merlin wasn’t sure he could take much more. “And even then it takes a considerable amount of training to even sustain a connection with the stones, let alone use them.”
Merlin looked over to the Obsidian, dark and mysterious where it lay.
“But I saw Camelot in it. I was in Queen Ygraine’s garden, talking to a dragon. I know it was real, he called me Emrys of the Ocean Gaius!” Merlin was aware that his voice had risen, but he was too tired to care.
Gaius knew all the answers, or at least it felt that way. He’d be able to tell Merlin what to do, without this nonsense of a prophecy or whatever. He’d be able to tell Merlin how to find the dragon, how to find his family and ignore everything that he was being told he had to do.
Almost afraid to look at Gaius, unsure what expression the man might be wearing, Merlin closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. It was too much, far too much to take in. He wanted to sleep, and when he woke, he’d discover this was all just a twisted dream, a product of his imagination and nothing more.
“I believe you,” the old man said quietly, the words rushing through Merlin like a fast current, cold under his skin. “I knew your father well and I’ve seen what he was capable of.”
Merlin opened his eyes. “He had magic?” he asked slowly, not even trying to wrap his head around the huge complication his life had just become. It was hard to fathom that Gaius knew his father, let alone knew him so well.
If Merlin was less tired, he might have thought more about the fact that everything was too big a coincidence, everything fit too nicely together. But he was tired, only just able to listen to what Gaius was saying, and so he stored it in his mind amongst the many other questions to ask.
“We all thought that your father was the man in the prophecy. When… when the queen vanished and we were exiled, we thought that your father would do something, that he would save us all.” Gaius’ face was weary and Merlin wondered how much he had sacrificed all for the hope of a prophecy that might never come true.
“He kept telling us that he wasn’t the one the prophecy meant.” Another frown and Merlin knew that Gaius was thinking how to edit his next words, to keep his own secrets or those of Balinor, Merlin wondered.
“Your father had a certain type of magic that allowed him to know of the future. He couldn’t use the power himself fully, but he was gifted with certain bits of knowledge, and he said that he’d seen who the prophecy spoke of and that he’d bring him back when they were ready.” Gaius fixed Merlin with a pointed look, waiting for his answer.
“You think he saw me?” Merlin shook his head, “I mean, that he knew it was me?”
Although he didn’t look at Merlin, choosing instead to refill his goblet from the jug on the table, Gaius looked thoughtful and nodded.
“There’s something…” he trailed off, glancing up at Merlin. “I would have to talk to… but I’m sure…”
Merlin finished the food on his plate, the slight interest that had risen in his chest bubbling away as a wave of tiredness swept through him. He yawned and Gaius stood from the table, gathering a few blankets from around the room.
“Aglain will want to speak with you later as well, but I think it’s best that you sleep for now. I’ll wake you up when you’re needed, and if there’s anything I can get for you, just ask.” Gaius looked sympathetic, clearly understanding everything that Merlin had been through the past few days.
He left Merlin to walk over to his part of the tent, pulling back the extra flap and falling down onto the bed. It was confortable, with a wooden frame and padded mattress, and Merlin couldn’t quite remember the last time he’d slept on a proper bed.
“Thank you,” he called out, hoping Gaius would hear him, before closing his eyes and falling asleep, swathed in blankets and head tucked tight against the thin pillow.
.
Merlin woke hazily, eyes thick with sleep and sight blurred. He rubbed a hand over his eyelids and wondered what the time was, and whether he had to help around the house that day, when everything rushed back. He wasn’t in Ealdor, but at the druid camp and Gaius’ home.
He got up, legs a little shaky, and moved into the main part of the tent. Though he was barefoot, the floor was made of smooth stone and, albeit cold, he walked comfortably over to where a jug lay, pouring himself a glass of water.
The tent flap leading to the rest of the camp was pulled back and Gaius stepped through, Eigyr in tow. Her eyes, if possible, were even wider and she clutched something to her chest.
“Ah, Merlin. Good, you’re already up.” Gaius smiled and Merlin returned the gesture. Even though Gaius was clearly keeping secrets, his father had trusted these people and spent a good part of his life with them. It meant that Merlin could trust them too, and besides, he couldn’t sense anything malicious inside of Gaius and his magic had liked the old man well enough.
It wasn’t Gaius who approached him though, but Eigyr, and she came to stand before Merlin, something like concern in her eyes.
“Here,” she said quietly, almost too quietly for Merlin to hear.
She’d held out a book, one that Merlin almost snatched as he recognised it. Eigyr moved back at the sudden movement and Merlin looked at her, an apologetic look on his face.
“Sorry,” he said, “It’s just… I’ve seen this book before.”
Eigyr nodded. “Your father gave it to me before he left.”
Looking at her, Merlin wondered where Eigyr fit into this. Had she been a woman Balinor had loved and left just because he knew a prophecy wouldn’t be fulfilled? Had he left her alone without a word or had Merlin’s father owned up to what he had to do, giving her a book so that she could remember him?
“He was a good friend of mine, and of my husband. He would have wanted me to give it to you, said that there would be a time when I’d know what to do with the book and, well, you’re here.” She smiled slightly before inching forwards, Merlin holding himself still.
Now that she was closer, cupping his cheek tenderly, Merlin could see she was hardly that much older than his own mother, probably around the same age in fact. She was young and yet she had a heavy weight bearing down on her shoulders, pushing her to the edge of weariness.
She stroked his cheek for a moment, lost in her own thoughts, and Merlin wondered if she had once been a mother. She was alone here, apart from Gaius, but maybe once, up in Camelot, she’d had a family, a husband and a child perhaps.
Where were they now? Back in Camelot? Laid to rest in the water? Left the druid camp like Balinor had, except without the thought of a prophecy in the back of their minds?
As if she suddenly realised what she was doing, Eigyr pulled back her hand and looked away, taking a few steps back.
“I managed to convince Aglain not to question you tonight. Both Eigyr and I thought that you needed to know more about Camelot and what everyone expects from you.” Gaius spoke up clearly, gesturing for Merlin and Eigyr to sit at the table. Food was laid down across the surface and Merlin tucked in eagerly, after receiving a nod from Gaius that he could.
“There’s a lot to get through,” Gaius began. “And most of it will be an edited, condensed version, but you need to know it all.”
Eigyr rolled a ball of dough between her fingers, nodding absently and Gaius began, filling Merlin’s head with knowledge he had only gleaned from crumpled magazines and old stories.
Gaius told him how the Sky Cities were first thought up, centuries ago. Governments had started building the massive towers before the floods had hit, seeing a need for them in the future. Only they hadn’t been ready when the first floods had hit and so, desperate, magic users had been called in to help fortify what had been built.
“They played a crucial role,” Gaius stressed and Merlin wondered why he’d never heard of it. Through all the magazines and the stories, there had never been a whisper of magic, but now it was playing a crucial role?
“It was kept quiet,” Gaius continued, “As people didn’t understand magic, preferring sciences and rational explanations to myth and wonder.”
He went on then to explain how sorcerers had helped craft the towers, using the basic elements of their trade. The seeing stones had played important roles in the early days of the Sky Cities, used to bolster the electrical connections between different Cities.
Eventually though, magic across the land lessened and the Floods drowned the rest of the world. Magic had fallen back into mystery and forgotten largely by the general public. The connections with other Sky Cities had fallen too and, Gaius added, and for all they knew, Camelot could be the only one standing.
“Magic was still used in the Court though,” Gaius said. “The people went on with their day not needing it, but they never knew how much the Court relied on it.”
Not many people had magic at all and even few were capable of the easiest spells, but they had all channelled their powers together when they were needed. Again, though, over time, the practice had fallen and magic was no longer a skilled gift, resorting to parlour tricks as the monarchy brought up alternatives to magic, boosting electricity and the cyber connections all through the City.
“Traditionally the Seeing Stones were looked after by the King and Queen of Camelot, but by the time the current king - King Uther - took the throne, even that had died out largely, leaving the Stones to the queens of Camelot.” Gaius’ gaze flickered to Eigyr for a moment before he continued.
“Ygraine tended to the garden like the queens before her, allowing those who believed they had talent to use the garden. No one could harness the stones’ powers, not even your father who was commended for being a strong magician alongside his other talents.”
Each time Gaius flippantly mentioned that his father had had magic, Merlin felt a swirl of butterflies in his stomach. He had so much more than a leather-bound book now or a brief conversation of his father, a legacy that had been passed on and it was one that was practically living, an entity itself.
“You need to understand that the Sky Cities have been unchanged in their principles for years now. Without… without what they have now, the Cities would never have been able to be built and millions of people would have died.” Gaius’ face was drawn sharp, sadness radiating from him.
Suddenly, Merlin didn’t want to know what he had to say. Whatever the next words were going to be, they weren’t going to be nice ones.
“There is a secret Camelot holds close. Only the most trusted in the Court are aware of it and the people are completely clueless.” He looked over to Eigyr once more as she shifted uncomfortably.
“The Pickings,” Gaius continued, “Aren’t what they seem. I still don’t know how they choose the individuals, but the fate that awaits them in the Tower is a far cry from what their families wish for them.”
Merlin was about to ask what was so terrible when Eigyr answered the question simply.
“They never get to the city itself.” Her voice was strong and disgusted, and Merlin could see her in that moment as a woman of the Court. “Instead they are taken down to the base of the main Tower and placed into what the Police like to call Sleeping Chambers.”
She closed her eyes before continuing. “It’s true they are sedated, but they are the sole force Camelot can survive with its electrical spheres and cyber-network.”
She faltered and Gaius nodded, laying a hand over hers affectionately.
“Everyone, no matter who you are, is born with a trace of magic. It’s dormant and would never be able to give the person powers, however weak, but a team of sorcerers have managed to harness the power. They drain the magic from these people using the stones, though I’m still not completely sure how they use them.”
Merlin looked between them, trying to wrap his head around what was going on.
Camelot was part of the New World. It was supposed to be a utopia, beautiful and shining as it rose into the sky. It was a beacon of hope for those stranded, proof that humans had survived the worst and could continue on, no matter what.
And what was it all built on? Exploitation of hopeful refugees wanting the best for their children. Merlin could remember the rumours running through the camp, mothers huddling close to their children as the Pickings took place. Their eyes had been distrustful and wary, unsure why exactly their children were wanted but not trusting the ‘better life’ idea that others held.
“If they’re providing the city with power and its glamour, why are there still refugees camped out on its doorstep? And this tower can’t be the only one they’ve clustered around… thousands of people are out here and they’re just, what, waiting until they can be picked off to be drained of their lives?” Merlin’s voice had risen furiously. Camelot was supposed to be his salvation and yet now he was learning that it would have been better to stay on Ealdor, to die an honest death than come to this place.
“How many people do you think Camelot can hold?” Gaius asked, voice sad. “And how many people do you think are there already? The supporting towers are useless, they simply reinforce the one Camelot is built upon. People can’t live in the darkness of the Tower either, and most of that is blocked in to support the main city’s bulk.”
He had a point, Merlin realised. When the world had flooded, people had to have run somewhere. At first the doors to the Sky Cities may have been thrown open, but realistically that couldn’t have lasted. How many people were there to sustain? How many people could live in the clouds without the Tower crumbling? Gaius had mentioned that magic had helped to build the tower, what if the absence of magic was making the tower weaker?
Evidently Gaius knew what he was thinking, for he nodded miserably.
“It was how they tried to sell it to us when we found out. Let a few be taken and sedated or allow millions to die? It’s not a choice we could make, if such a choice was ever allowed, and so we were cast out of Camelot.” Gaius’ voice was hollow, the weight of the words carrying their own impact.
So that was it then. A shining world built upon thousands of children sleeping at the base of the tower. Did they all survive? How many died? And even though they protected the rest of Camelot, how could a king sleep at night knowing what he had hidden inside of his Tower?
“Is it worth it?” Merlin said instead, tired of everything. What was the point anymore? Was Camelot even worth all the grief it had caused? Merlin was beginning to doubt the safety Camelot was rumoured to provide.
“You mean is it worth practically killing hundreds to sustain thousands? No, but there isn’t any other way at the moment. Or at least there wasn’t.” With this, Gaius settled a look on Merlin.
“The prophecy,” Merlin said, his voice flat. Both Eigyr and Gaius nodded eagerly, smiling at Merlin.
“It’s what Aglain wants to speak to you about. Now that you’re here, he’ll probably tell you that you need to save the people at the refugee camp.” Gaius shook his head as Merlin opened his mouth. “Only we know the complete truth and it has to stay that way. The balance of magic is too precarious as it is; throwing panic through the refugee camps isn’t going to help anyone.”
Merlin wanted to ask Gaius how much he really knew, how much he knew about helping people. He wanted to know what Gaius had done before he’d come down here, the same of Eigyr, and why they hadn’t trusted the druids. Surely a revolution from down here would echo up to Camelot, or at least be noted by the Police running the Pickings.
Instead, he nodded, running a thumb over the book in his lap.
“I think… well I’d like to be alone.” Gaius nodded, eager to let Merlin alone with his thoughts.
“We’ll let you rest. We just thought… that you ought to know what Aglain expects from you. He doesn’t know the full truth, almost no one does any more, but you need to know it.” There was a flicker of muted hope in the back of Gaius’ eyes, as if Merlin wanting to think things over meant that he’d reach one conclusion; that he’d save them all.
He spared a glance for Eigyr as he stood, her face pale as usual and eyes wide. She was an oddity to Merlin, but she didn’t spare the same hope for him and he was thankful. She, at least, realised that Merlin was still just a person and wouldn’t be able to do anything. Even if Gaius had told her of the power he’d seen in Merlin’s magic, she was realistic.
He pulled back his tent flap and let the heavy material fall back, blocking out whatever Gaius and Eigyr were doing. They could have been whispering about him, about his destiny, about anything in the world and Merlin couldn’t have brought himself to care.
Tomorrow he’d think about it, but for now all he wanted to do was fall back into bed and enter a world where he wasn’t a hero. Nothing had to change tonight and he could pretend, most likely for the last time, that he was just a normal Islander, locked up against a raging storm that had been threatening to break for days and was finally shattering over them all.
.
Waking from dreams he couldn’t remember, Merlin opened his eyes slowly, information filtering into his consciousness slowly. He remembered the gruelling journey through the camp, following Mordred and then entering the life of the druids in the Drowned World, the Wastelands of the Sky Cities.
The main tent was empty, something for which Merlin was thankful, and he sat down at the benched table, noticing Gaius had left out food for him. Simple, just bread and cheese, but Merlin was deeply grateful for it.
He wouldn’t be able to ignore what was going to be said today. Aglain would no doubt want him to prove his worth as the prophesised saviour and the other druids (assuming this was an open meeting) would also want proof. And, yes, Merlin knew that he could use the Obsidian stones where no sorcerer for hundreds of years had been able to without help, but what use was that when he had a whole city to save?
Merlin didn’t even want to think of what he’d do in the event that he did save them. The refugees out here were kept away from Camelot as there was no room, where would they all go if Merlin freed the slaves?
Gaius reappeared some time later, entering the tent briskly and nodding to Merlin.
“Aglain’s called a circle. He wants to speak with you now.”
They left the tent, passing rows of similar tents, grubby children and tired adults smiling as they passed. Although they had the same world-weary look as the refugees, no one in the Wastelands was unhappy. They smiled and laughed, sure signs that they were content to live here, sustained partially by magic that almost no one remembered.
Although it was most likely day time, the area that the druid camp lay was in the shadows of the Tower and there was only a little light in the air, giving it an appearance as though it was early morning or late evening.
Aglain wasn’t the only person present for the meeting. Other druids, all cloaked and tucking into various bowls of food, were seated down too, all huddled around a stoked fire. The warmth was appreciated and Merlin took a seat beside Gaius on an old sofa, the material stained by its stint in the Wastelands, but it was still comfortable enough.
“Emrys,” Aglain greeted warmly, smiling widely and turning around to the others. “We’re honoured to have you in our presence at long last.” The words were overly showy, most likely to try and appeal to Merlin’s better side.
It was strange to have someone clearly trying to suck up to you, to be clearly willing to do anything you’d command of them. Merlin knew that if he demanded twenty of the toxic fish to be brought out of the water, a handful of druids would run to fulfil his orders, all because of a prophecy made years ago.
“Gaius had probably told you about the prophecy and your role in it?” At Merlin’s nod, he continued. “Do you know how you’ll achieve it?”
While it was an innocent enough question, probably one that Merlin should have seen coming after all, he simply froze, eyes widening. It was one thing to know that you were part of a prophecy, but another entirely when people actually expected you to be able to carry out the prophecy, to actually do something and end the suffering of thousands.
Even though it had named him, how could Merlin do something like that? He didn’t know the first thing about saving people or using his magic, let alone using his magic to save people. He had power, that much was simple to see, but what use was it when he couldn’t control it?
“I don’t know,” he admitted. Gaius patted his hand gently, his presence reassuring when so many pairs of eyes were pinned to Merlin’s frame.
A few mutters broke out at that, but Aglain himself didn’t seem so concerned.
“We can test your magical talents,” he said calmly, offering Merlin a wide smile. “And we can build on what your magic is, bring it out from its latent phase.”
Gaius shuffled where he sat and Merlin looked at him briefly, noticing the frown on his brow.
“We have devised meditation techniques,” Aglain added, also shooting Gaius a look. It was clear the old man wasn’t happy with what the druid leader had said, but Aglain was working hard to fix the slight error in his words. “Which will be able to help you find your focus and draw on your power.”
Thankfully, Gaius didn’t mention that Merlin wouldn’t exactly need much to draw on the power, it was just to control and use it that he needed the directional help in. From what Merlin had heard of magic, it wasn’t exactly a power store in anyone else but him and he wanted to keep this fact hidden for as long as he could. These people (and how many more?) already looked at him in slight reverence and they knew nothing about him. What would happen when they found out that he’d made himself glow in the middle of the sea, that he could use the Obsidians where no one had for decades?
Merlin turned his attention back to Aglain, who was looking at him openly, face warm.
If they had met in any other circumstances, Merlin was sure he’d like Aglain a lot. He seemed like a nice man, one who would do whatever he could for his people, but he expected hope to fall and their salvation to run free just because Merlin was here now. He expected too much, Merlin could see it weighted in his eyes.
Even so, Merlin knew he had to reply and, most importantly, stay on all of the druids’ good side. They had been good to him, were good people in general, and was it so terrible they clung to hope? Back in Ealdor their hope had been the Sky Cities, so why should these people be any different when they thought they could all have a better life?
“I’d appreciate any help I can get,” Merlin said, meaning the words. Even if he couldn’t do anything to save them, he could at least do something with his magic. It was there for something and if that something could help him to reach the dragon (at the very least), then he’d be happy.
A few people murmured amongst themselves. Merlin couldn’t hear the individual responses, the general tone was positive, save for a group directly to Merlin’s right. The people there were huddled together, sharing dark looks and it wasn’t long before they made themselves heard.
“He’s just a boy!” someone called out, and Merlin looked over to where a rugged man stood, anger clear on his face.
Aglain frowned in obvious disapproval. “While your input it appreciated, now is not the time-“
“No,” the man interrupted again. “I’ve told you; we need Mordred. He’s the only one with the power to be able to master one of the Stones. He’s the one we need to look to as a saviour, not this boy.”
His words were accompanied with a sneer and Merlin placed the name after he’d mentioned Mordred; this had to be Alvarr.
“That’s enough,” another druid said, rolling their eyes. “Even if the wild child did have the power to be able to wield a stone, where are we going to get one from?”
The druids shook their head, laughing as Alvarr’s face contorted into something ugly and bitter. He didn’t take his seat though, instead challenging everyone else seated with defiance.
“You know I’m right Gaius,” he said, looking directly at the old man.
In the short time he had spent with the druids, Merlin knew Gaius was a respected man in their community. He was vastly knowledgeable about many things, and what little he didn’t know, he was able to apply logic and research from the few books he possessed. It made him valuable to men like Alvarr, when they were so convince that they were right and needed the proof to be confirmed in front of everyone else.
“If you had asked me a few days ago, my answer would have been affirmative.” Alvarr looked smug at the answer, but Gaius wasn’t done. “However, Mordred would have to spend time aligning his power with the stone and build up his magic. That could take years in itself, and even then there’s no guarantee it would work, or his magic would be strong enough to channel into the Obsidian stones.”
He looked at Merlin then, gaze firm. “Merlin, on the other hand, has already used the Obsidian. On multiple occasions, he has been inside of Camelot, to Queen Ygraine’s gardens and the place where the Stones were harmonised.”
Gaius’ words drew shocked gasps from around the camp and a thunderous look from Alvarr. Although he might not have liked the attention, Merlin understood why Gaius had told Alvarr about his magical pursuits. The man was aggressive and while he’d only known him for a short while, Merlin could tell he was the sort who would prefer to turn to violence and have things done his way quickly.
Camelot didn’t need someone like Alvarr. It was people like Alvarr who had caused the problems in the first place, most likely, thinking that stealing magic to power the city was the easiest way to solve the problem.
“Him? He’s just an outsider, a boy. He doesn’t have power to wield a stone, even if you all think he’s this Emrys.” Alvarr’s face was contorted in a sneer, his eyes challenging as they bored into Merlin’s.
There was nothing Merlin could do to challenge the accusation either. While he had the power to use the Obsidian, he couldn’t exactly show that to the druids. As far as Merlin knew, he simply went to sleep - looked like he was asleep rather - when using the stone. That wouldn’t prove anything to Alvarr, and there wasn’t any other trick he could perform that would be able to show his abilities.
“So the alternative is to manipulate a child?” Gaius spoke firmly, eyes fixed on Alvarr as he rose to stand, making sure they were level across the camp.
The few people who had been tittering amongst themselves quietened at the sudden and direct challenge Gaius had laid before Alvarr. The other man drew himself up, a slightly curl of a smile on his lips as he accepted the challenge.
“He was born as one of the Urchin children. I’d be providing a better life for him,” Alvarr said easily, shifting his weight onto one side and relaxing slightly.
“Do you know what the power of the Stones can do if you do not have the power to wield the correctly?” Gaius’ voice was harsh and reprimanding, as if Alvarr was a child who had touched something they’d been told not to. “Did you know, for example, that if the person using the stones doesn’t connect with the ancient magic quickly enough, their own magic will be sucked from their body and they will die?”
Alvarr’s look was thunderous, but Gaius wasn’t finished just yet.
“It took the ancient sorcerers decades to master how to use the stones for small tasks, such as divining minor prophecies. Only a few in history were ever able to use them as communication channels on their own and unsupported by a team of sorcerers.” Gaius held out an arm, hand waving in Merlin’s direction.
“This boy, as you called him,” Gaius said, spitting out the word ‘boy’ as if it was an offensive curse, “Used the communication channels of the ancient stones. Such channels haven’t existed for almost two decades now and yet Merlin was able to use the shadow of a connection and move through the Stones.”
Gaius paused, letting the word sink in for everyone around. Even Merlin himself was waiting to hear more, hardly believing what Gaius was telling them. It couldn’t be possible that he’d done something so powerful so easily. The stone had called to him, that was all, yet everyone was acting as though Merlin had achieved a miracle.
To them, maybe he had. Maybe it was their way of knowing he was their Emrys without any reserves. Even Alvarr looked as if he was backing down, shooting Merlin a few hollow glances, frown appearing on his face.
“If you honestly believe that Mordred will be able to do that then, by all means, train him up.” Gaius rolled his eyes. “But why do you think the child’s still out there? He’s smart enough to know that you won’t leave him alone and that leaving us was the only chance he had not to have his magic pulled from him.”
Aglain coughed lightly then and Gaius looked to the druid leader, bowing his head slightly and taking his seat. The argument was clearly over now and Gaius had said his piece, both to Alvarr and Merlin.
.
| Part Six|
It was clear what Gaius was referring to as soon as Merlin stepped clear of the fence. While there were mounds of land, easy to jump from one to the other if you took care, the rest of the space between the fence boundary and the tower rising up above them and arching away was dominated by water.
Occasionally, ruins poked through the surface, like the church spire over to their left. The stone was crumbled, but the shape unmistakeable, ruins like those back on Ealdor, sending a jolt of pain through Merlin’s chest as he thought of his Island, his home.
Those thoughts were soon banished though as Merlin saw the slightly withered form ahead of him. It was a tree, something he’d only ever seen in story books, and while they were far greener and bushier in the pictures, this was still a real-life, living tree.
“It’s a tree,” Merlin said stupidly, causing both Gaius and Eigyr to turn around in amusement.
“The drowned world is fortunate enough to have its own sorts of plants. Some we get food from and others we can make our clothes from, though without the waste from the Sky City we’d never be able to sustain ourselves,” Gaius said simply, continuing to lead their path through the boggy land.
“Camelot gives you things?” Merlin asked, slipping slightly through a thick patch of mud. He looked up to see where Gaius was headed, trying not to stray too far from him, when he noticed Eigyr’s wide eyes staring at him. There was something in her look, but Merlin couldn’t place it and dismissed it.
“It depends on your definition of ‘give’ I suppose,” Gaius muttered. “But whatever they do not need, they’ll dump down in the wastes they rose from.”
He stopped suddenly, turning thoughtfully to look at Merlin, again. “Not many people call it Camelot anymore,” he said casually. “At least not since they shut their gates against the refugees, and that was around twenty years ago now.”
Merlin didn’t miss the look Gaius shot Eigyr, but he had no idea what it meant. There was something deeper here, but Merlin had his own problems to deal with.
“When you say ‘shut’ I suppose there aren’t any ways to get into Camelot then?” Desperately hoping for Gaius to shake his head, Merlin held his breath, sucking in his bottom lip as he waited for an answer.
“The only ones who get into Camelot are the police and the ones they take from the Pickings. Otherwise it’s an impenetrable fortress,” Gaius said matter-of-factly, taking a few careful steps forward and holding his hand out to help Eigyr across a small channel of water.
The water in here was, oddly enough, still. It wasn’t as though Merlin had never seen ponds or patches of still water, but it had never been this big, this encompassing. There weren’t any waves, blocked by the fence, and even though there was clearly a current in the water, it was smooth and unlike what Merlin was used to. These druids didn’t have to fear the water like everyone else down here, instead it seemed that they thrived off of it.
The druid camp was nested on the same side of the island as the refugee camp. The first thing Merlin noticed though, between the tower jutting upwards and the camp just coming into view, was another fence, this one controlled by loch gates and clearly manned. It was still a way off, easily a four hour or so walk, but the shapes of the police boats were clear, milling in the wide, obviously human-dug waterway that clearly led from the gate at the refugee camp.
“They come through with the Pickings,” Gaius said, having stopped to wait for Merlin to catch up. “Drive them through here and straight up to the gates, never to be seen again.”
The subject was brushed off, Gaius squaring his shoulders and gesturing for Merlin to follow Eigyr as she picked an obviously familiar route, drawing closer and closer to the campsite.
It was the kind of place Merlin had read about in books, with crooked tents and trees bent so that they provided the main source of shelter. They were protected from the wind thanks to the fences in the drowned lands, but the rain still fell from above and there was a hand-made tarpaulin tacked to some of the tent roofs where the trees couldn’t provide shelter, made from old plastics and shopping bags.
Merlin smiled slightly. It was surreal to see objects and materials he had only read about or seen pictures. While they were once commonplace objects, no one after the floods needed shopping bags, at least not plastic ones that could break easily. Most objects of the Old World were forgotten, lost in photographs and books only, only to be used in such strange ways in the last place you would even expect life.
There wasn’t anyone out in the open when Gaius and Eigyr stepped into the camp, but it didn’t seem to bother them. For a terrible moment, Merlin wondered if they were the only two left, until a tall man in a long robe stepped out, mud caked to the lower half of his clothing.
“Gaius,” he greeted warmly, clasping the old man’s arm before smiling to Eigyr and greeting her also. “I trust your visit to the wild children was well?”
Merlin watched as Gaius nodded, drawing the man aside a little.
“I fear they’ve increased patrols.” Gaius looked tired and he shifted the medical pack in his hands a little. “There’s less children and it fits with the increased boats moving out to take their Pickings.”
The tall man shook his head, a frown creasing his forehead, only to be replaced as he noticed Merlin.
“We thought you were bringing Mordred back?” he asked, looking sharply at Gaius.
“Mordred refused, as usual. He’ll come back in his own time, I’m sure. The argument they had was over something delicate and while I know he’s hardly safest out there, you’d have more luck trying to drain the ocean itself than drag him back unwilling.” Gaius gave a snort of laughter and the man he was talking to tilted his head, conceding to the point just made.
“True,” he said, deep voice dipping into amusement. “But that still doesn’t explain him.”
“Merlin Emrys,” Merlin said, mostly because he doubted Gaius remembered his name, but partly because he was sick of not saying anything. “From the Island of Ealdor.”
The reaction he got from that wasn’t what he’d expected. The three druids drew in sharp, identical breaths and both men’s eyes flickered over to Eigyr. She was even paler than she had been before, blue eyes wide and cheeks hollowed as he mouth was open in shock.
Not knowing why, after all he hadn’t said anything more than he had before to just Gaius and Eigyr, Merlin looked between them all at their reaction.
“What is it?” he asked, nervousness settling in.
No one spoke for a moment, the rustling of hidden people behind nearby tent walls the only sound aside from the slosh of the waters around them, and Merlin almost asked his question again when he received a surprising answer.
“Emrys?” was whispered, only just audible. Merlin turned, shocked, to look at Eigyr and nodded.
She spoke again. “Of the Ocean,” she said softly, eyes darting over to Gaius.
A memory spiked in Merlin’s brain, from weeks - months even - ago. The dragon had called him the same name, but what did it mean?
“I’ve heard those words before,” he said hurriedly, trying to catch the gaze of any of the druids, but they were masters of avoiding him. Maybe they knew the dragon, maybe the dragon was free to roam where it pleased and maybe, oh just maybe, they could show him to the dragon.
And through that, solve Merlin’s problems and get his life back.
“And you’ll no doubt hear them again,” the unnamed man said with a furrowed brow, inspecting Merlin as though he was some great curiosity that had been gifted to them from their gods. “But that will have to wait.” He clapped his hands, sending a weighted look to Gaius and Eigyr. “No doubt you’re hungry and you’d want to clean up properly and change clothes.”
His tone indicated no room for argument, so Merlin obeyed, his need for food overwhelming his curiosity. Plus, it was as the man had said; he wasn’t denying the information outright, stating they’d talk later when Merlin could be more focused.
It didn’t take long for the man - Aglain he introduced himself a few moments later - to hand Merlin’s responsibility to Gaius and leave. The elderly man nodded, speaking in a low tone to Eigyr before she walked off, leaving just the two of them behind.
“Right then,” Gaius muttered. “Until we have a proper use for you, I’ll have you as an apprentice or helper, or whatever you want to be called.” He offered Merlin a genuine smile before picking through the tents, swaths of colour bright in the gloom and so different to the refugee camp, though they were, in essence, identical.
While the camp outside had been smelly, full of noise and desperation, the druid camp was calm, almost peaceful. Occasionally people peered out of their tents to smile at Gaius and eye Merlin curiously, but for the most part, they were left alone. The almost-solitude was welcoming after so many days crushed with so many strangers.
“There’s a small tent on the back of mine. I usually use it to store big supplies if they ever wash up, or house the particularly grievously injured… but it’ll do well for you.” Gaius bustles under a sheet of strange fabric, clearly hand woven and yet dyed as though it belonged to the Old World.
“How..?” Merlin begun, but stopped as he saw the glint in Gaius’ eye and the slight curve on his lips.
“You might not believe me, but there are some amongst the druids who are gifted. They use these talents to ensure our survival and that includes providing food and materials so we can live.” Merlin’s breath hitched as he realised what Gaius was talking about, that while he also had a gift, he wasn’t alone.
“Of course it’s very little magic can provide. The power of the Old Religion was buried long ago, centuries before the Floods even, but we do what little we can to survive,” Gaius finished, placing his medical kit down onto a table he had in the tent, shuffling through it and putting the assorted equipment away.
When he’d finished, picking through the organised chaos that Gaius called his home, the man clasped Merlin’s shoulder, leading him over to a large basin, a yellow-stained bath.
“Here’s the bath,” Gaius said simply, as though Merlin was raised like the wild children and bathed in the dirty sea rather than in civilisation. “And if you’d give me a moment, I’ll have it filled for you.”
Merlin was about to ask how when he realised that the people with ‘talents’, as Gaius had said, included the man himself.
In amazement, Merlin watched as Gaius muttered some words and the bath filled with water. The words were familiar, soothing, and they settled under Merlin’s skin, warm and comforting. Steam rose off of the murky water until Gaius drew in a deep breath, his body shuddering and he lay a hand on Merlin’s arm to steady himself.
“Sorry,” he began apologising, before his eyes widened and he looked down to where they were touching.
Merlin already knew why Gaius was looking at him in such a manner. He could feel his magic, clearer than he ever had before, and it was flowing. It poured into Gaius, strengthening the man where he had become weaker through drawing the bath.
“Merlin?” he muttered, voice pitched higher and incredulous. “You’re a sorcerer?”
Automatically, Merlin shook his head. “No, I mean… you can obviously feel it, but I’ve never been able to control it. Sometimes my magic was there, but mostly it wasn’t.” It was a relief to finally be able to tell someone about his gifts and while Hunith had listened intently, she’d already known and had hidden it from Merlin.
“My mother said I could move things before I could walk, but I can’t anymore. I didn’t even know I had magic until I found the stone-“
Gaius suddenly span Merlin around, gripping both of his shoulders and peering into his eyes as if he was trying to see through Merlin’s very soul.
“What stone boy?” he asked sharply and Merlin’s hands scrambled at his thigh, digging down into his pocket to remove the stone.
It looked smaller than before, fitted to Merlin’s palm and dark, pulling Merlin’s magic to itself. Gaius clutched Merlin’s hand underneath, staring at the stone in shock.
“Where did you…” Gaius trailed off, looking at Merlin with something akin to horror in his eyes.
“It washed up on the shore,” Merlin replied quickly, unsure what Gaius was thinking. He knew it wasn’t too late for the druids to turn him away and retract their hospitality and, for a strange reason, he wanted Gaius to like him.
Who else was there? His family and friends were gone and Mordred clearly only looked out for himself. The druids were his only chance now and Merlin resolved that he couldn’t waste this chance.
“What do you mean? Ealdor has to be miles away, how could it have just washed up on the shore?” Merlin shook his head, searching Gaius’ eyes.
“What do you want me to say? I’ve told you the truth,” he barrelled on, desperately. “It washed up on the shore and I took it home. I didn’t know it was magical until later.”
Gaius looked at him considering something yet entirely silent. Merlin found himself holding his breath under the weight of Gaius’ look, until the man drew himself up, nodding to the bath.
“I think we need to discuss some things together before we join the others. Bathe,” he ordered and Merlin couldn’t find any part of him that wanted to argue with that idea. “And I will fetch you some clean clothes.”
After Gaius had left the tent, Merlin moved to the edge of the bathtub, dipping a hand into the water. While it wasn’t the cleanest, Merlin had never bathed in anything completely clear and the heat of the water was enough to discard any thoughts he may have had before all of this. At this moment in time, Merlin would have been happy to bathe in used bathwater if it had meant he’d be fresher and warm.
Placing the stone on a nearby table, Merlin grimaced as he removed his clothes. They were crusted and made strange noises as he tried to pull the fabric away from his body. He was caked in dirt and just removing the clothes was a relief, one that was soon overwhelmed as he sunk into the hot water, sighing loudly.
He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a bath. Back in Ealdor it took a long time to heat water on the stove and then carry it to the bath, but occasionally it had been worth all the effort.
There was only one problem now; Merlin was drawing on his memories of Ealdor with nothing else to distract him. It was something he didn’t want to get into right now and so he cast his gaze around the room, looking for a bar of soap to scrub at his skin. He found one on the floor beside the bath and wondered if he’d be able to use his magic to bring it upwards.
Merlin could still feel his magic, as though it had burst from the container in his chest and run through his body. It was settling all over, under his skin and in his bones, permeating every single cell in Merlin’s body.
“Right,” he muttered though his teeth, “Okay.”
He looked at the soap bar, focusing on it entirely. He felt the magic build inside of himself, rising to his will, and he wished for the soap to come to him with everything he could muster.
It remained stubbornly on the ground though and Merlin clenched his jaw, trying again. When that failed, he brought a hand out of the water, moving it upwards as though the movement would help the soap and his magic.
Merlin was unsure how many times he tried to move the soap, but none of them succeeded and he, eventually, gave up, picking the bar up with his fingers and dipping it into the water.
Even now, when his magic had reacted to Gaius’ and he could use it to help people, it refused to cooperate. What use was his magic when he couldn’t access it, couldn’t do anything with it?
Maybe Gaius would know or, failing that, then any of the other druids. They had acted strangely before around Merlin so maybe there was a reason for it, that they had felt his magic and knew it was different to theirs or… just something, anything. There had to be a reason or else he’d condemned his people to leaving their Island for no other reason than testing his magic, toying with it.
“Merlin?” a voice called from outside, Gaius evidently having returned with clothing. “I’m coming in.”
Scrubbing harder at his skin, Merlin shot Gaius a smile and sloshed slightly in the bath.
“Thank you,” he said before standing, hardly caring that Gaius would see him naked. Merlin had never been a prude before and it was impossible to remain one when you had lived in the harshest of conditions before, where some winters were so bad that you had to huddle up with the livestock and villagers you barely knew just to remain alive.
Besides, he and Will had been running around the beaches of Ealdor naked since they were small children. Just because that particular habit may have stopped hadn’t suddenly brought down waves of embarrassment on Merlin’s part, and he knew just by looking at Gaius that the old man didn’t care either.
Merlin was handed a towel and Gaius made a show of placing the clothes down, letting Merlin know where they were before he moved off to one of the desks, taking seat on one of the benches, pouring out a drink and organising something on the table.
The clothes provided were simple; a blue tunic and brown trousers, clearly made with the help of magic. They were softer than any other clothes Merlin had ever worn and his magic prickled as it recognised the magic that had spun the clothes, causing Merlin to shift a little uncomfortably.
“Here,” Gaius said, gesturing to the bench opposite him and a plate of food next to the cup of water he’d set down.
Merlin tucked into the bread eagerly before looking at the slices of ham in slight reverence.
“Where did you get this?” he asked, looking up at Gaius. Even back on Ealdor meat had been scarce as livestock dwindled.
“We keep animals,” was the simple reply and Merlin wondered if he should just expect the druids to be fully functioning and capable in just about every aspect of life.
“I think we need to talk about you though,” Gaius said seriously. “You were born on Ealdor?”
Merlin swallowed the mouthful of food, eagerly tearing back into the bread before he spoke. “Never left the Island until I came here. That’s what life for us is like,” he added, in case Gaius doubted that he had come from an Island.
Gaius nodded, looking away from Merlin to the tent wall.
“And your parents?” he prompted, turning his gaze onto Merlin and making him feel like a five year old who had been caught sneaking food for a secret picnic.
“My mother was born on Ealdor. Her whole family had been, for generations, and she was all I had left.” Merlin wasn’t going to say anything about his father unless Gaius needed to know.
Even if Gaius had known him, as far-fetched as that was, Balinor was still just a secret Merlin could hold in his chest and not have to talk to anyone about. No one had known Balinor, and neither did Merlin save for the fact his father had passed his magic down to him, their hidden, secret connection.
“I don’t want to pry,” Gaius began slowly. “But your father?”
“Dead. He died a long time ago,” Merlin was quick to say. He avoided Gaius’ eyes, as if that could stop the man from continuing his questions.
“I know we hardly know each other,” Gaius said softly, “But there’s something that you need to know, something that could change everything for you. I cannot tell you, however, unless you tell me who your father was.”
He didn’t know why he was uneasy to tell Gaius about his father, not really. He could already tell that Gaius knew the answer - why else would he be so pushy? - and that his answer would, as Gaius had said, change everything for Merlin. Still, there was a part of him that wanted to keep the answer hidden, keep everything simple.
Merlin knew that, whatever it was Gaius wanted to hear and whatever he was going to say after, would make things more complex. It was something larger than just Merlin alone, something that was terrifying, something Merlin didn’t want to think about. He was only there to find his family; he didn’t need to hear what the druids wanted.
“My father wasn’t born on Ealdor,” Merlin admitted slowly, ignoring the breath Gaius sucked in. “His name was Balinor and my mother said he fled Camelot.”
He turned his gaze to look at Gaius, noting the shock in the old man’s eyes and wondering what was so special about his father, what was so special about Merlin himself for that matter.
“My boy,” Gaius said quietly, shaking his head slightly. “I knew your father.”
Although he’d guessed as much, it was still a shock to hear Gaius say such a thing. Merlin looked at him before turning away.
“I didn’t,” he said. “I never knew him and my mother never spoke of him until she found out my magic had returned. And even then…” Merlin cut himself off, trying not to think of all the things he’d never had, possibly never would. “But why does my father change everything? He left Camelot, he’s dead.”
Gaius nodded slowly. “That much is true,” he said, taking a sip from his own goblet and sighing. “Your father was a trusted member of King Uther’s court.”
Whatever Merlin had been expecting to hear about his father, it hadn’t been this. Balinor was supposed to be just a man, perhaps a noble one, for Hunith had mentioned he knew Queen Ygraine, but never a trusted man. A trusted man wouldn’t turn his back on a kingdom and flee without reason, after all.
“Obviously you know nothing of Camelot’s history, but around twenty years ago, Queen Ygraine vanished.” There was something more, something Gaius didn’t want to say, but it was hardly Merlin’s place to pry. “King Uther was furious, hoping to pin the blame on the people the queen had trusted in hope they’d come forward and tell him where she was, but none of them took the bait.”
Barely processing what Gaius was saying, Merlin nodded quickly, wanting to hear more.
“Nobody knows the true circumstances of what happened to Ygraine, but her friends were either cast out of the Court or exiled from Camelot itself. Your father was one of the exiled and he chose to set out over the oceans rather than remain with us.” Gaius’ voice was weary and it was just then that another thought hit Merlin.
“You’re speaking as if you were there,” he pointed out, already guessing that Gaius had been there.
“I was,” Gaius acknowledged, bowing his head a little. “I was appointed Court Physician at a young age and I lived to serve my King and Queen. When…” Gaius paused, brow furrowing. “After everything that had happened, it was too dangerous to remain in Camelot.”
Merlin wanted to ask why, push Gaius further, but he knew he had no right to. He might never know the full story behind the Queen’s disappearance, or why Gaius had chosen to flee when he had mentioned being the king’s man as much as the queen’s, but Merlin wasn’t on Ealdor anymore and he had to content himself with what he did know, rather than what he wanted to know.
“I can’t tell you everything,” Gaius said and Merlin nodded. “Given time, I might have to - though I hope it doesn’t come to that. But you have to be told about the prophecy, which was why I needed to know who your father was.”
Sucking in a breath, Gaius began again. “Magic was once great and prosperous across the land. Even when the Floods rose and the Sky Cities were built, magic helped forge kingdoms. Only small acts, the main power of the land was lost years ago, but it was still an integral part of the New World.”
Merlin watched as Gaius clutched his goblet, clearly thinking about how he could phrase the rest of what he needed to say.
“Most of the natural magic, such as the creatures and the places of ancient wonder, were lost to the water. The first rulers sent an expedition to hone out a cave buried under the water, a place that was rumoured to be the beginning of all magic.” Gaius looked over to where Merlin had placed his Obsidian on a table by the bath, nodding to it.
“That crystal comes from that cave. It is a device of prophecy, one that even the most powerful sorcerers feared.” He paused, darting a look over to Merlin. “Before they were locked away, a prophecy was made that a man would rise up to save his people. The name they gave to that man,” Gaius said, eyes meeting Merlin’s, “Was Emrys of the Ocean.”
Looking away, Merlin wanted to deny it. Sure his magic was meant for something, but not that. Nothing great as saving people, nothing as big as having a prophecy hanging over his head. He was just a simple boy from an Island, nothing more. He wasn’t destined to do anything except find the dragon, tell him he’d lied and…
Oh.
The dragon hadn’t lied, had it? It had called him Emrys of the Ocean and told him to save his people. Only Merlin had assumed he’d meant the people of Ealdor, but it was much, much too big for that.
“Only those with great power could even dream of wielding the stones,” Gaius continued, ignoring the fact that Merlin wasn’t sure he could take much more. “And even then it takes a considerable amount of training to even sustain a connection with the stones, let alone use them.”
Merlin looked over to the Obsidian, dark and mysterious where it lay.
“But I saw Camelot in it. I was in Queen Ygraine’s garden, talking to a dragon. I know it was real, he called me Emrys of the Ocean Gaius!” Merlin was aware that his voice had risen, but he was too tired to care.
Gaius knew all the answers, or at least it felt that way. He’d be able to tell Merlin what to do, without this nonsense of a prophecy or whatever. He’d be able to tell Merlin how to find the dragon, how to find his family and ignore everything that he was being told he had to do.
Almost afraid to look at Gaius, unsure what expression the man might be wearing, Merlin closed his eyes, taking deep breaths. It was too much, far too much to take in. He wanted to sleep, and when he woke, he’d discover this was all just a twisted dream, a product of his imagination and nothing more.
“I believe you,” the old man said quietly, the words rushing through Merlin like a fast current, cold under his skin. “I knew your father well and I’ve seen what he was capable of.”
Merlin opened his eyes. “He had magic?” he asked slowly, not even trying to wrap his head around the huge complication his life had just become. It was hard to fathom that Gaius knew his father, let alone knew him so well.
If Merlin was less tired, he might have thought more about the fact that everything was too big a coincidence, everything fit too nicely together. But he was tired, only just able to listen to what Gaius was saying, and so he stored it in his mind amongst the many other questions to ask.
“We all thought that your father was the man in the prophecy. When… when the queen vanished and we were exiled, we thought that your father would do something, that he would save us all.” Gaius’ face was weary and Merlin wondered how much he had sacrificed all for the hope of a prophecy that might never come true.
“He kept telling us that he wasn’t the one the prophecy meant.” Another frown and Merlin knew that Gaius was thinking how to edit his next words, to keep his own secrets or those of Balinor, Merlin wondered.
“Your father had a certain type of magic that allowed him to know of the future. He couldn’t use the power himself fully, but he was gifted with certain bits of knowledge, and he said that he’d seen who the prophecy spoke of and that he’d bring him back when they were ready.” Gaius fixed Merlin with a pointed look, waiting for his answer.
“You think he saw me?” Merlin shook his head, “I mean, that he knew it was me?”
Although he didn’t look at Merlin, choosing instead to refill his goblet from the jug on the table, Gaius looked thoughtful and nodded.
“There’s something…” he trailed off, glancing up at Merlin. “I would have to talk to… but I’m sure…”
Merlin finished the food on his plate, the slight interest that had risen in his chest bubbling away as a wave of tiredness swept through him. He yawned and Gaius stood from the table, gathering a few blankets from around the room.
“Aglain will want to speak with you later as well, but I think it’s best that you sleep for now. I’ll wake you up when you’re needed, and if there’s anything I can get for you, just ask.” Gaius looked sympathetic, clearly understanding everything that Merlin had been through the past few days.
He left Merlin to walk over to his part of the tent, pulling back the extra flap and falling down onto the bed. It was confortable, with a wooden frame and padded mattress, and Merlin couldn’t quite remember the last time he’d slept on a proper bed.
“Thank you,” he called out, hoping Gaius would hear him, before closing his eyes and falling asleep, swathed in blankets and head tucked tight against the thin pillow.
.
Merlin woke hazily, eyes thick with sleep and sight blurred. He rubbed a hand over his eyelids and wondered what the time was, and whether he had to help around the house that day, when everything rushed back. He wasn’t in Ealdor, but at the druid camp and Gaius’ home.
He got up, legs a little shaky, and moved into the main part of the tent. Though he was barefoot, the floor was made of smooth stone and, albeit cold, he walked comfortably over to where a jug lay, pouring himself a glass of water.
The tent flap leading to the rest of the camp was pulled back and Gaius stepped through, Eigyr in tow. Her eyes, if possible, were even wider and she clutched something to her chest.
“Ah, Merlin. Good, you’re already up.” Gaius smiled and Merlin returned the gesture. Even though Gaius was clearly keeping secrets, his father had trusted these people and spent a good part of his life with them. It meant that Merlin could trust them too, and besides, he couldn’t sense anything malicious inside of Gaius and his magic had liked the old man well enough.
It wasn’t Gaius who approached him though, but Eigyr, and she came to stand before Merlin, something like concern in her eyes.
“Here,” she said quietly, almost too quietly for Merlin to hear.
She’d held out a book, one that Merlin almost snatched as he recognised it. Eigyr moved back at the sudden movement and Merlin looked at her, an apologetic look on his face.
“Sorry,” he said, “It’s just… I’ve seen this book before.”
Eigyr nodded. “Your father gave it to me before he left.”
Looking at her, Merlin wondered where Eigyr fit into this. Had she been a woman Balinor had loved and left just because he knew a prophecy wouldn’t be fulfilled? Had he left her alone without a word or had Merlin’s father owned up to what he had to do, giving her a book so that she could remember him?
“He was a good friend of mine, and of my husband. He would have wanted me to give it to you, said that there would be a time when I’d know what to do with the book and, well, you’re here.” She smiled slightly before inching forwards, Merlin holding himself still.
Now that she was closer, cupping his cheek tenderly, Merlin could see she was hardly that much older than his own mother, probably around the same age in fact. She was young and yet she had a heavy weight bearing down on her shoulders, pushing her to the edge of weariness.
She stroked his cheek for a moment, lost in her own thoughts, and Merlin wondered if she had once been a mother. She was alone here, apart from Gaius, but maybe once, up in Camelot, she’d had a family, a husband and a child perhaps.
Where were they now? Back in Camelot? Laid to rest in the water? Left the druid camp like Balinor had, except without the thought of a prophecy in the back of their minds?
As if she suddenly realised what she was doing, Eigyr pulled back her hand and looked away, taking a few steps back.
“I managed to convince Aglain not to question you tonight. Both Eigyr and I thought that you needed to know more about Camelot and what everyone expects from you.” Gaius spoke up clearly, gesturing for Merlin and Eigyr to sit at the table. Food was laid down across the surface and Merlin tucked in eagerly, after receiving a nod from Gaius that he could.
“There’s a lot to get through,” Gaius began. “And most of it will be an edited, condensed version, but you need to know it all.”
Eigyr rolled a ball of dough between her fingers, nodding absently and Gaius began, filling Merlin’s head with knowledge he had only gleaned from crumpled magazines and old stories.
Gaius told him how the Sky Cities were first thought up, centuries ago. Governments had started building the massive towers before the floods had hit, seeing a need for them in the future. Only they hadn’t been ready when the first floods had hit and so, desperate, magic users had been called in to help fortify what had been built.
“They played a crucial role,” Gaius stressed and Merlin wondered why he’d never heard of it. Through all the magazines and the stories, there had never been a whisper of magic, but now it was playing a crucial role?
“It was kept quiet,” Gaius continued, “As people didn’t understand magic, preferring sciences and rational explanations to myth and wonder.”
He went on then to explain how sorcerers had helped craft the towers, using the basic elements of their trade. The seeing stones had played important roles in the early days of the Sky Cities, used to bolster the electrical connections between different Cities.
Eventually though, magic across the land lessened and the Floods drowned the rest of the world. Magic had fallen back into mystery and forgotten largely by the general public. The connections with other Sky Cities had fallen too and, Gaius added, and for all they knew, Camelot could be the only one standing.
“Magic was still used in the Court though,” Gaius said. “The people went on with their day not needing it, but they never knew how much the Court relied on it.”
Not many people had magic at all and even few were capable of the easiest spells, but they had all channelled their powers together when they were needed. Again, though, over time, the practice had fallen and magic was no longer a skilled gift, resorting to parlour tricks as the monarchy brought up alternatives to magic, boosting electricity and the cyber connections all through the City.
“Traditionally the Seeing Stones were looked after by the King and Queen of Camelot, but by the time the current king - King Uther - took the throne, even that had died out largely, leaving the Stones to the queens of Camelot.” Gaius’ gaze flickered to Eigyr for a moment before he continued.
“Ygraine tended to the garden like the queens before her, allowing those who believed they had talent to use the garden. No one could harness the stones’ powers, not even your father who was commended for being a strong magician alongside his other talents.”
Each time Gaius flippantly mentioned that his father had had magic, Merlin felt a swirl of butterflies in his stomach. He had so much more than a leather-bound book now or a brief conversation of his father, a legacy that had been passed on and it was one that was practically living, an entity itself.
“You need to understand that the Sky Cities have been unchanged in their principles for years now. Without… without what they have now, the Cities would never have been able to be built and millions of people would have died.” Gaius’ face was drawn sharp, sadness radiating from him.
Suddenly, Merlin didn’t want to know what he had to say. Whatever the next words were going to be, they weren’t going to be nice ones.
“There is a secret Camelot holds close. Only the most trusted in the Court are aware of it and the people are completely clueless.” He looked over to Eigyr once more as she shifted uncomfortably.
“The Pickings,” Gaius continued, “Aren’t what they seem. I still don’t know how they choose the individuals, but the fate that awaits them in the Tower is a far cry from what their families wish for them.”
Merlin was about to ask what was so terrible when Eigyr answered the question simply.
“They never get to the city itself.” Her voice was strong and disgusted, and Merlin could see her in that moment as a woman of the Court. “Instead they are taken down to the base of the main Tower and placed into what the Police like to call Sleeping Chambers.”
She closed her eyes before continuing. “It’s true they are sedated, but they are the sole force Camelot can survive with its electrical spheres and cyber-network.”
She faltered and Gaius nodded, laying a hand over hers affectionately.
“Everyone, no matter who you are, is born with a trace of magic. It’s dormant and would never be able to give the person powers, however weak, but a team of sorcerers have managed to harness the power. They drain the magic from these people using the stones, though I’m still not completely sure how they use them.”
Merlin looked between them, trying to wrap his head around what was going on.
Camelot was part of the New World. It was supposed to be a utopia, beautiful and shining as it rose into the sky. It was a beacon of hope for those stranded, proof that humans had survived the worst and could continue on, no matter what.
And what was it all built on? Exploitation of hopeful refugees wanting the best for their children. Merlin could remember the rumours running through the camp, mothers huddling close to their children as the Pickings took place. Their eyes had been distrustful and wary, unsure why exactly their children were wanted but not trusting the ‘better life’ idea that others held.
“If they’re providing the city with power and its glamour, why are there still refugees camped out on its doorstep? And this tower can’t be the only one they’ve clustered around… thousands of people are out here and they’re just, what, waiting until they can be picked off to be drained of their lives?” Merlin’s voice had risen furiously. Camelot was supposed to be his salvation and yet now he was learning that it would have been better to stay on Ealdor, to die an honest death than come to this place.
“How many people do you think Camelot can hold?” Gaius asked, voice sad. “And how many people do you think are there already? The supporting towers are useless, they simply reinforce the one Camelot is built upon. People can’t live in the darkness of the Tower either, and most of that is blocked in to support the main city’s bulk.”
He had a point, Merlin realised. When the world had flooded, people had to have run somewhere. At first the doors to the Sky Cities may have been thrown open, but realistically that couldn’t have lasted. How many people were there to sustain? How many people could live in the clouds without the Tower crumbling? Gaius had mentioned that magic had helped to build the tower, what if the absence of magic was making the tower weaker?
Evidently Gaius knew what he was thinking, for he nodded miserably.
“It was how they tried to sell it to us when we found out. Let a few be taken and sedated or allow millions to die? It’s not a choice we could make, if such a choice was ever allowed, and so we were cast out of Camelot.” Gaius’ voice was hollow, the weight of the words carrying their own impact.
So that was it then. A shining world built upon thousands of children sleeping at the base of the tower. Did they all survive? How many died? And even though they protected the rest of Camelot, how could a king sleep at night knowing what he had hidden inside of his Tower?
“Is it worth it?” Merlin said instead, tired of everything. What was the point anymore? Was Camelot even worth all the grief it had caused? Merlin was beginning to doubt the safety Camelot was rumoured to provide.
“You mean is it worth practically killing hundreds to sustain thousands? No, but there isn’t any other way at the moment. Or at least there wasn’t.” With this, Gaius settled a look on Merlin.
“The prophecy,” Merlin said, his voice flat. Both Eigyr and Gaius nodded eagerly, smiling at Merlin.
“It’s what Aglain wants to speak to you about. Now that you’re here, he’ll probably tell you that you need to save the people at the refugee camp.” Gaius shook his head as Merlin opened his mouth. “Only we know the complete truth and it has to stay that way. The balance of magic is too precarious as it is; throwing panic through the refugee camps isn’t going to help anyone.”
Merlin wanted to ask Gaius how much he really knew, how much he knew about helping people. He wanted to know what Gaius had done before he’d come down here, the same of Eigyr, and why they hadn’t trusted the druids. Surely a revolution from down here would echo up to Camelot, or at least be noted by the Police running the Pickings.
Instead, he nodded, running a thumb over the book in his lap.
“I think… well I’d like to be alone.” Gaius nodded, eager to let Merlin alone with his thoughts.
“We’ll let you rest. We just thought… that you ought to know what Aglain expects from you. He doesn’t know the full truth, almost no one does any more, but you need to know it.” There was a flicker of muted hope in the back of Gaius’ eyes, as if Merlin wanting to think things over meant that he’d reach one conclusion; that he’d save them all.
He spared a glance for Eigyr as he stood, her face pale as usual and eyes wide. She was an oddity to Merlin, but she didn’t spare the same hope for him and he was thankful. She, at least, realised that Merlin was still just a person and wouldn’t be able to do anything. Even if Gaius had told her of the power he’d seen in Merlin’s magic, she was realistic.
He pulled back his tent flap and let the heavy material fall back, blocking out whatever Gaius and Eigyr were doing. They could have been whispering about him, about his destiny, about anything in the world and Merlin couldn’t have brought himself to care.
Tomorrow he’d think about it, but for now all he wanted to do was fall back into bed and enter a world where he wasn’t a hero. Nothing had to change tonight and he could pretend, most likely for the last time, that he was just a normal Islander, locked up against a raging storm that had been threatening to break for days and was finally shattering over them all.
.
Waking from dreams he couldn’t remember, Merlin opened his eyes slowly, information filtering into his consciousness slowly. He remembered the gruelling journey through the camp, following Mordred and then entering the life of the druids in the Drowned World, the Wastelands of the Sky Cities.
The main tent was empty, something for which Merlin was thankful, and he sat down at the benched table, noticing Gaius had left out food for him. Simple, just bread and cheese, but Merlin was deeply grateful for it.
He wouldn’t be able to ignore what was going to be said today. Aglain would no doubt want him to prove his worth as the prophesised saviour and the other druids (assuming this was an open meeting) would also want proof. And, yes, Merlin knew that he could use the Obsidian stones where no sorcerer for hundreds of years had been able to without help, but what use was that when he had a whole city to save?
Merlin didn’t even want to think of what he’d do in the event that he did save them. The refugees out here were kept away from Camelot as there was no room, where would they all go if Merlin freed the slaves?
Gaius reappeared some time later, entering the tent briskly and nodding to Merlin.
“Aglain’s called a circle. He wants to speak with you now.”
They left the tent, passing rows of similar tents, grubby children and tired adults smiling as they passed. Although they had the same world-weary look as the refugees, no one in the Wastelands was unhappy. They smiled and laughed, sure signs that they were content to live here, sustained partially by magic that almost no one remembered.
Although it was most likely day time, the area that the druid camp lay was in the shadows of the Tower and there was only a little light in the air, giving it an appearance as though it was early morning or late evening.
Aglain wasn’t the only person present for the meeting. Other druids, all cloaked and tucking into various bowls of food, were seated down too, all huddled around a stoked fire. The warmth was appreciated and Merlin took a seat beside Gaius on an old sofa, the material stained by its stint in the Wastelands, but it was still comfortable enough.
“Emrys,” Aglain greeted warmly, smiling widely and turning around to the others. “We’re honoured to have you in our presence at long last.” The words were overly showy, most likely to try and appeal to Merlin’s better side.
It was strange to have someone clearly trying to suck up to you, to be clearly willing to do anything you’d command of them. Merlin knew that if he demanded twenty of the toxic fish to be brought out of the water, a handful of druids would run to fulfil his orders, all because of a prophecy made years ago.
“Gaius had probably told you about the prophecy and your role in it?” At Merlin’s nod, he continued. “Do you know how you’ll achieve it?”
While it was an innocent enough question, probably one that Merlin should have seen coming after all, he simply froze, eyes widening. It was one thing to know that you were part of a prophecy, but another entirely when people actually expected you to be able to carry out the prophecy, to actually do something and end the suffering of thousands.
Even though it had named him, how could Merlin do something like that? He didn’t know the first thing about saving people or using his magic, let alone using his magic to save people. He had power, that much was simple to see, but what use was it when he couldn’t control it?
“I don’t know,” he admitted. Gaius patted his hand gently, his presence reassuring when so many pairs of eyes were pinned to Merlin’s frame.
A few mutters broke out at that, but Aglain himself didn’t seem so concerned.
“We can test your magical talents,” he said calmly, offering Merlin a wide smile. “And we can build on what your magic is, bring it out from its latent phase.”
Gaius shuffled where he sat and Merlin looked at him briefly, noticing the frown on his brow.
“We have devised meditation techniques,” Aglain added, also shooting Gaius a look. It was clear the old man wasn’t happy with what the druid leader had said, but Aglain was working hard to fix the slight error in his words. “Which will be able to help you find your focus and draw on your power.”
Thankfully, Gaius didn’t mention that Merlin wouldn’t exactly need much to draw on the power, it was just to control and use it that he needed the directional help in. From what Merlin had heard of magic, it wasn’t exactly a power store in anyone else but him and he wanted to keep this fact hidden for as long as he could. These people (and how many more?) already looked at him in slight reverence and they knew nothing about him. What would happen when they found out that he’d made himself glow in the middle of the sea, that he could use the Obsidians where no one had for decades?
Merlin turned his attention back to Aglain, who was looking at him openly, face warm.
If they had met in any other circumstances, Merlin was sure he’d like Aglain a lot. He seemed like a nice man, one who would do whatever he could for his people, but he expected hope to fall and their salvation to run free just because Merlin was here now. He expected too much, Merlin could see it weighted in his eyes.
Even so, Merlin knew he had to reply and, most importantly, stay on all of the druids’ good side. They had been good to him, were good people in general, and was it so terrible they clung to hope? Back in Ealdor their hope had been the Sky Cities, so why should these people be any different when they thought they could all have a better life?
“I’d appreciate any help I can get,” Merlin said, meaning the words. Even if he couldn’t do anything to save them, he could at least do something with his magic. It was there for something and if that something could help him to reach the dragon (at the very least), then he’d be happy.
A few people murmured amongst themselves. Merlin couldn’t hear the individual responses, the general tone was positive, save for a group directly to Merlin’s right. The people there were huddled together, sharing dark looks and it wasn’t long before they made themselves heard.
“He’s just a boy!” someone called out, and Merlin looked over to where a rugged man stood, anger clear on his face.
Aglain frowned in obvious disapproval. “While your input it appreciated, now is not the time-“
“No,” the man interrupted again. “I’ve told you; we need Mordred. He’s the only one with the power to be able to master one of the Stones. He’s the one we need to look to as a saviour, not this boy.”
His words were accompanied with a sneer and Merlin placed the name after he’d mentioned Mordred; this had to be Alvarr.
“That’s enough,” another druid said, rolling their eyes. “Even if the wild child did have the power to be able to wield a stone, where are we going to get one from?”
The druids shook their head, laughing as Alvarr’s face contorted into something ugly and bitter. He didn’t take his seat though, instead challenging everyone else seated with defiance.
“You know I’m right Gaius,” he said, looking directly at the old man.
In the short time he had spent with the druids, Merlin knew Gaius was a respected man in their community. He was vastly knowledgeable about many things, and what little he didn’t know, he was able to apply logic and research from the few books he possessed. It made him valuable to men like Alvarr, when they were so convince that they were right and needed the proof to be confirmed in front of everyone else.
“If you had asked me a few days ago, my answer would have been affirmative.” Alvarr looked smug at the answer, but Gaius wasn’t done. “However, Mordred would have to spend time aligning his power with the stone and build up his magic. That could take years in itself, and even then there’s no guarantee it would work, or his magic would be strong enough to channel into the Obsidian stones.”
He looked at Merlin then, gaze firm. “Merlin, on the other hand, has already used the Obsidian. On multiple occasions, he has been inside of Camelot, to Queen Ygraine’s gardens and the place where the Stones were harmonised.”
Gaius’ words drew shocked gasps from around the camp and a thunderous look from Alvarr. Although he might not have liked the attention, Merlin understood why Gaius had told Alvarr about his magical pursuits. The man was aggressive and while he’d only known him for a short while, Merlin could tell he was the sort who would prefer to turn to violence and have things done his way quickly.
Camelot didn’t need someone like Alvarr. It was people like Alvarr who had caused the problems in the first place, most likely, thinking that stealing magic to power the city was the easiest way to solve the problem.
“Him? He’s just an outsider, a boy. He doesn’t have power to wield a stone, even if you all think he’s this Emrys.” Alvarr’s face was contorted in a sneer, his eyes challenging as they bored into Merlin’s.
There was nothing Merlin could do to challenge the accusation either. While he had the power to use the Obsidian, he couldn’t exactly show that to the druids. As far as Merlin knew, he simply went to sleep - looked like he was asleep rather - when using the stone. That wouldn’t prove anything to Alvarr, and there wasn’t any other trick he could perform that would be able to show his abilities.
“So the alternative is to manipulate a child?” Gaius spoke firmly, eyes fixed on Alvarr as he rose to stand, making sure they were level across the camp.
The few people who had been tittering amongst themselves quietened at the sudden and direct challenge Gaius had laid before Alvarr. The other man drew himself up, a slightly curl of a smile on his lips as he accepted the challenge.
“He was born as one of the Urchin children. I’d be providing a better life for him,” Alvarr said easily, shifting his weight onto one side and relaxing slightly.
“Do you know what the power of the Stones can do if you do not have the power to wield the correctly?” Gaius’ voice was harsh and reprimanding, as if Alvarr was a child who had touched something they’d been told not to. “Did you know, for example, that if the person using the stones doesn’t connect with the ancient magic quickly enough, their own magic will be sucked from their body and they will die?”
Alvarr’s look was thunderous, but Gaius wasn’t finished just yet.
“It took the ancient sorcerers decades to master how to use the stones for small tasks, such as divining minor prophecies. Only a few in history were ever able to use them as communication channels on their own and unsupported by a team of sorcerers.” Gaius held out an arm, hand waving in Merlin’s direction.
“This boy, as you called him,” Gaius said, spitting out the word ‘boy’ as if it was an offensive curse, “Used the communication channels of the ancient stones. Such channels haven’t existed for almost two decades now and yet Merlin was able to use the shadow of a connection and move through the Stones.”
Gaius paused, letting the word sink in for everyone around. Even Merlin himself was waiting to hear more, hardly believing what Gaius was telling them. It couldn’t be possible that he’d done something so powerful so easily. The stone had called to him, that was all, yet everyone was acting as though Merlin had achieved a miracle.
To them, maybe he had. Maybe it was their way of knowing he was their Emrys without any reserves. Even Alvarr looked as if he was backing down, shooting Merlin a few hollow glances, frown appearing on his face.
“If you honestly believe that Mordred will be able to do that then, by all means, train him up.” Gaius rolled his eyes. “But why do you think the child’s still out there? He’s smart enough to know that you won’t leave him alone and that leaving us was the only chance he had not to have his magic pulled from him.”
Aglain coughed lightly then and Gaius looked to the druid leader, bowing his head slightly and taking his seat. The argument was clearly over now and Gaius had said his piece, both to Alvarr and Merlin.
.
| Part Six|