Written Destinies (Arthur Pendragon)

The Beginning of the End 2: Magic Chooses You

Merlin's POV:

            To say I had slept well would be a lie. Most of the night I spent lying in my bed staring at the ceiling. My mind would not let me rest, repeatedly playing the young druid boy's scared face over and over in my head. It was morning now, the kingdom was swarming with guards. All still searching for the young boy. I sat on the far end of the dining table in the physician's quarters, the slimy porridge before me looking absolutely dreadful. Gaius stood on the opposite side, hunched over the table while he flipped through the pages of a book.

"Do you know much about the druids," I asked gently.

"Very little. They're very secretive people. Especially now that they're being hunted by Uther," the physician replied, pausing his page flipping to make note of something in his notebook. "Merlin, please tell me you haven't gotten yourself mixed up in this."

"Me," I asked. "No. Mixed up in what?"

Gaius rolled his eyes, closing the book. "For someone with such a big secret, you are a terrible liar."

"Well, I haven't done anything," I stated. Gaius has always been able to see through my lies, so when his eyebrow raises and his face grows stern I know that he is on to me.

"Merlin," He stated sternly, waiting for me to speak the truth.

I sigh in defeat. "I heard the boy calling out. He was nowhere to be seen. But I could hear him like he was inside my mind."

"Yes, I've heard of this ability," Gaius nodded. "The druids look for children with such gifts to serve as apprentices. While they're searching for this boy, you must be especially careful. Otherwise, it will be your head on the chopping block."

Even though I am frightened by his words, I smile. "I'm always careful. You know me."

"Yes, Merlin, unfortunately, I do," Gaius stated. He reopens his book, returning to flipping the pages. With a heavy sigh, I rise from my seat, leaving my uneaten bowl of porridge on the table as I leave the room.

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            I knocked on the large wooden door of Morgana's chambers, my ears picking up the hushed whispers and hurried footsteps coming from the other side. The door opens partially, leaving enough space for Morgana to poke her head out. At the sight of me, her stiff body relaxes, the stern look on her face softening. She opens the door, allowing me to enter before closing it behind me.

"How is he," I asked, referring to the young druid boy.

"He's sleeping," she spoke, making her way into her room with me following behind her. "He's very pale. I worry he may have lost a lot of blood." 

            We make our way to the back of the room, the curtains I hid behind yesterday now closed again, hiding what lay on the other side. She drew back the curtains, allowing me to see the boy. There he slept peacefully, his skin pale and his forehead drenched in sweat. He was lying on what appeared to be a makeshift bed. Made up of pillows and thick covers. His bleeding side was now dressed in bandages. A thin sheet covers his legs.

"Has he said anything at all," I asked in a hushed tone, not wanting to wake the boy. 

"Nothing. He won't even tell me his name," Morgana stated, shaking her head. I nodded along, my focus returning to the sleeping boy. He looked so peaceful lying there. So relaxed as if there was nothing wrong with the world. And yet, just outside those chamber doors danger lurks. No child, whether they possess magic or not, should ever have to fear their lives being in danger.