Merlin Part 1
`Merlin sobbed as he made his way through the woods. He didn’t know where his magic had taken him. He had been running away from Arthur, and then the next step he had taken he was in a thick cluster of trees.
Everything hurt, it hurt so much. All the wounds that had opened as his magic had left him for that brief moment hurt as if they were still bleeding.
Merlin had to find Kilgarrah. Kilgarrah would fix it. He had to. Merlin was tempted to go to the druids at first, but he had no clue where they were and if he said something was wrong with his magic? He’d start a mass panic.
So Kilgarrah it was.
Merlin’s magic was fighting him every step of the way. It begged him to go back to Arthur. Didn’t it understand that he couldn’t?
Goddess, Arthur must hate him. Merlin had lied to him. What if he put all magic users in Camelot in danger, because he had been selfish?
His magic burned now, just like it had with Arthur. Wouldn’t the damn thing make up its mind? First it fought him when he was with Arthur, and now when he had left?
No. No this was safest for everyone. He didn’t care what his magic said. Merlin wouldn’t go back. He’d find Kilgarrah, fix whatever was going on, and then go live with the druids. They’d finally have the god they were so convinced he was.
Merlin wasn’t sure how long he had been walking. He wasn’t sure if he was going in the right direction. Something was stopping Merlin from reaching out to Kilgarrah.
Merlin was ready to give up. He was dying, literally. The boy that had finally put on some weight in the warmth of Camelot’s castle had lost it. He was starving, paranoid, and was slowly losing his sanity.
Merlin sank to the ground, screaming in pain as it felt like his own head was ripping apart.
The last thing the boy heard before his mind sank into a peaceful blank slate was the flapping of wings. Merlin woke up in a Druid camp, in clothes much different than his own. The blood he had been caked in was gone. His hair had been washed, and his arm was in a splint.
When the boy first woke up, his magic lashed out at the people around him. The medical tent burned to the ground, leaving only Merlin safe.
Luckily all of the druids got out before they could be killed.
They were careful around him from that day, but Merlin wasn’t let leave the (now covered in fire proof wards and every other protection ward the Druids could think of) medical tent without someone with him.
He was treated like a king. Merlin hated it. He was not a king. That was Arthur’s job. Merlin knew the prophecy. He was destined to be in the background. Merlin was never supposed to get what he wanted. He was a freak of nature. A reincarnation of a god long since dead, filled with the magic the Earth had absorbed during The Purge.
Merlin shouldn’t be here. He had made a mistake.
Then Kilgarrah returned. Merlin heard the dragon in his mind before the Druids noticed the beast.
Boy! The Druids have healed you. Kilgarrah’s voice boomed in his head, making Merlin wince. Kilgarrah landed in front of Merlin, and Merlin had forgotten how large the dragon was. It would’ve been terrifying if Merlin didn’t have complete control of Kilgarrah. Well…not complete. It was difficult for Merlin to command Kilgarrah, not like a true dragon lord.
The Druids said it was because Merlin had never been trained; that it took practice.
“Kilgarrah! I need your help!” Merlin began, before the dragon cut him off. Pretentious and arrogant, just like before Merlin had sent him away.
“Yes boy, I know. Do you not remember the trip here? I found you in my woods, half dead. There’s something wrong with you isn’t there?” Kilgarrah boomed. Merlin lowered his voice,” My magic. Something is wrong with my magic.”
Kilgarrah had a look of understand, and almost relief. Definitely not what Merlin had expected.
“Ah. It’s begun then.” Kilgarrah muttered to himself. Merlin froze.
“What?” Merlin didn’t recognize his own voice. There was venom within every word, bitterness. He said it louder than he meant to. The Druid behind him flinched.
“Your godhood, young Emrys.” Kilgarrah announced. The Druid camp froze. Merlin felt panic flare in his chest. His what?
“I’m not a god. And I’m tired of all this Emrys shit, Kilgarrah. Tell me how to fix my magic, and I’ll go on my merry way.” Merlin hissed.
He jumped as he felt a hand on his back. It was the Druid meant to supervise Merlin.
“Em—Merlin. What do you know of the Old Religion’s gods?”
Merlin was sat down in a large stone building, a library he realized. Merlin had never seen it before. It had not been close. Kilgarrah had flown him, and the Druid Chieftain, Iseldir, hours before they reached the library.
For such a long trip, the library seemed really dingy. But Kilgarrah and Iseldir seemed very solemn, so Merlin kept the thought to himself.
“Emrys—“
“Merlin.” Merlin hissed, cutting Iseldir off. The older man’s jaw tensed, and Merlin could tell his thoughts were something along the lines of: Of course this bratty little kid is part of a prophecy. Good. Merlin lived to annoy.
“Merlin. This is the Library of Taliesin. It has all the knowledge you could wish for. You’ll find the solution to your dilemma here, with the Library Keeper.” Iseldir said gravely.
Merlin took a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
“And who, pray tell, is the Library Keeper? Because Iseldir, I swear, if you brought me here to fight some shitty little monster so I can learn something I already know, I’m going to tie you to Kilgarrah’s foot and make him fly you around upside down.” Merlin threatened, and Kilgarrah let out an offended snort. The dragon didn’t argue though. Good.
Ever since Merlin had been with the Druids, he had felts his temper getting shorter. His magic was ripping him apart, and in Merlin’s opinion, he was owed this. He had been harassed by the Druids for years, they could deal with a pissy Merlin.
“The Library Keeper was once a man, much like you. A wizard though, not a warlock. He had a talent for magic, even if he had not been born with it. Hundreds of years ago he prayed to Taliesin for more power, and his wish was granted. He became the Library Keeper, guarding over the knowledge of the gods. Not many know the library exists, and most do not know the location. It survived Uther’s Purge this way.” Iseldir said. Merlin relented with his threats, and made his way to the door.
Iseldir stopped a few feet away from the door.
“Well? Are you just gonna stand there Iseldir?” Merlin asked, trying to figure out why the man had suddenly stopped.
“This is the knowledge of the gods Emr— Merlin. A Druid cannot enter, no mortal can.” Iseldir said, and Merlin didn’t like what he was implying.
Why are they so convinced he’s a god. Merlin is just…Merlin.
Despite his solitude, Merlin entered. He shuddered as a sudden cold washed over him.
Merlin looked away, trying to blink away the strange fuzz that had settled over his eyes.
“Emrys, welcome to the Library of Taliesin.” A loud voice announced from somewhere in the room. Merlin couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but he automatically screamed out,
“My name is Merlin!”
“Of course, Merlin. Why do you seek out the knowledge of the gods, boy?” Merlin whipped around as he felt a hand on his shoulder.
The Library Keeper. Iseldir was right, the Library Keeper was very similar to Merlin. About the same height, the same build, and the Library Keeper had the same hair and eyes as Merlin. Merlin was almost reminded of his father, Balinor. For the brief time Merlin had known him, the Library Keeper seemed to fit the description.
“Something is wrong with my magic. Kilgarrah brought me here, he said something about godhood.” Merlin admitted, feeling awkward around the man. Merlin had met many people who believed themselves to be gods. He’d never actually met one. The Library Keeper seemed as close as Merlin would ever get.
“The dragon is not wrong boy. I’m surprised he remembers the old stories, not many do.” The Keeper said, not really speaking to Merlin, just stating things out loud. He seemed used to being alone.
“No, this has to be wrong. I’m not a god, or whatever you want me to be. I’m not. I’m a warlock, a strangely powerful one, but that is it! Maybe I have a cold or something. But I am not. A. God.” Merlin snapped. He wouldn’t believe it. He wouldn’t.
“Merlin. If you hadn’t been a god, you would’ve been incinerated when you stepped through that door. However you have not quite ascended to godhood yet, so I’ll make the assumption you don’t have much time here.” The Keeper said, turning away before Merlin could ask a question. The Keeper was wrong. He had to be. Merlin. Wasn’t. A. God. Was he?
Merlin watched in wonder as the Library Keeper performed magic. It wasn’t anything Merlin could do himself, just retrieving books from shelves. But he was so comfortable in himself. The way the Library Keeper carried himself, his magic belonged to him.
It wasn’t like Merlin’s magic, which even now, was pushing and pulling within Merlin.
The Keeper returned with a large stack of books, setting them down in front of Merlin with a loud crash as they hit the ground.
“I trust you know the Old Religion, yes?” The Keeper asked, moving on before Merlin could answer. The book flipped open with a snap of the Keeper’s fingers, to a page with an intricate drawing on it.
“This is my patron, Taliesin. God of magic, wisdom, bards, and much more. Beside him, you see a smaller boy, yes?” The Keeper asked, and Merlin nodded.
“That is the original Emrys. The brother of Taliesin. While his older brother was the god of magic, Emrys was the god of the people of magic. He was the reason magic spread to us. He made magic a possibility for those born without it. He was also the god of mischief.” The Keeper said, and Merlin was horribly confused. So if that was Emrys, why were the Druids always calling Merlin Emrys?
“Not all the gods liked the fact he had given us mere mortals magic. He was killed. Taliesin, in a desperate attempt to save his kid brother, hid Emrys’ soul in a crystal cave. But when the purge sent so much wild magic back into the Earth it awoke Emrys, who had long been at rest. His soul became yours. He saw an opportunity in you. Emrys made you infinitely more powerful than any mortal could be.”
Merlin felt sick to his stomach. This was wrong. It had to be.
“You are destined to replace Emrys. You will bring magic back to Albion. A Golden Age. Merlin, I know you always thought you would do this from the background, never enjoying the fruits of your labor. But that’s untrue. You will bring the gods of the Old Religion back with you. Your brother has wept for you for so long Emrys. You must bring magic back to Albion.” The Keeper said gravely. Merlin didn’t know what to do. How to respond to this. How could he? But Merlin thought of Will, Freya, Balinor, Lancelot, all the people who had been killed in Uther’s purge. He had to do it. Merlin knew he did.
“I…how do I do it?” Merlin asked, and he saw relief etch its way across the Keeper’s features.
“Good, this is good Merlin. I promise you, this will work.” The Keeper said, reaching out to Merlin.
Merlin’s mind went blank for all of three seconds, before he was in a room of blinding light with a group of people surrounding him.
“Emrys.” A booming voice announced, and Merlin wanted to snarl and correct it, but some little bit of him that wanted to survive told him it was a bad idea.
“Lugh, there is something wrong with him.” Another voice announced. Lugh? That’s…holy shit. Did the Library Keeper send Merlin to the Tuatha Dé Danaan?
The gods of the Old Religion?
Merlin looked around, trying to identify some of the gods.
He recognized Lugh, the god of law, justice, light, and a trickster god. He had a glint of mischief in his eyes that reminded Merlin of Will.
The voice that had declared something was wrong with Merlin(rude) was a woman. Ceridwen. She was an enchantress.
Merlin looked all around him, finding different members of the Tuatha Dé Danaan.
He couldn’t look the Morrigan in the eye when he saw her. Her entire presence was shrouded in darkness.
Then there was Daghda. The chieftain of the gods, that father of many of them. He was welcoming, terrifying, warm, cold. Merlin couldn’t describe it.
And then he found Taliesin. The Library Keeper had been right; Taliesin had been crying for a long time. His eyes were red, and dried tears stained his face.
“Brother?” Taliesin whispered, reaching out to Merlin, before Lugh pulling him back.
“Hush Taliesin. Ceridwen is right. Something is wrong with Emrys.” As Merlin watched the gods squabble, he was unaware of the Morrigan slowly approaching him, until once again his mind went blank.
This time Merlin was pulled into the same council room, but it was now empty. It was much darker, shrouded in shadows. None of the natural sunlight that had been there before.
“I see my brethren are right then. Merlin is it? Strange name.” The Morrigan announced from behind him. Merlin yelped. Couldn’t people ever approach him from where he could see them?
“My mother gave it to me, I don’t find it strange.” Merlin asserted. His mother was an honorable woman, he would not let any decision of hers be disrespected. She kept him safe when she could’ve handed him off to Uther to be killed, or Cenred to be groomed into a warmage.
“Good boy. Respectful of your mother. Motherhood is more difficult than you could imagine child.” The Morrigan praised, and Merlin felt a blush rise on his face. He shook it off before the embarrassment could set in.
“Great Queen, I’m honored to meet the gods, truly. But I don’t understand, why am I here? The Library Keeper—“
“Oh that fumbling idiot! He claims to care for sweet Taliesin but he doesn’t, not truly. He just likes the power it gives him. For someone so wise, Taliesin grows easily attached. That’s why he’s so attached to your predecessor.”
Merlin flinched at the sudden outburst from the Queen of the Phantoms.
“My lady, I still don’t understand why I am here. My magic has been strange recently, and I—“ Merlin was cut off once again by the Morrigan.
“I already know, boy. I am a goddess, I know quite a bit. Sadly enough for you, the Druid and the dragon are correct. Do me a favor, humor Taliesin. Listen to his ramblings.” The Morrigan asked, much gentler than Merlin had ever imagined the goddess could be.
Before he could blink, Merlin had been returned to the much brighter room, filled with arguing gods. It seemed like time hadn’t passed for them.
“Enough! Let the boy speak!” The Morrigan interrupted the argument. Merlin flinched again, her voice seemed to echo around itself. It was terrifying.
All heads turned towards Merlin, including Taliesin, who looked at the Morrigan suspiciously.
“I-um-I’m Merlin?” Merlin said nervously. The Morrigan shook her head, and Merlin gulped before more confidently saying,
“I am Merlin, known by the Druids as Emrys. Multiple occasions have led me to believe something is wrong with my magic. I was sent to your council by the Library Keeper of the Library of Taliesin.”
Taliesin’s head popped up at his name. He seemed to have gotten over whatever emotion-led state had taken over him when Merlin first arrived.
“Taliesin! You must stop your Library Keeper from sending whatever mortal he wishes our way! He’s done in thirty times in the past hundred years!” Another god snarled, pointing a finger at Taliesin.
Merlin(in some bout of insanity) defended the god,” It is not Taliesin’s fault the Library Keeper sent me here. This is a grave matter! Uther Pendragon’s purge killed most magic folk, the only ones who survived had to go into hiding. It is prophesied I am supposed to bring magic back to the five kingdoms, and I don’t know how to do that if my magic will not obey my will! I was born with near complete control over it, and now I can barely do the simplest spell without ripping open old magic wounds.”
Merlin wanted to collapse in on himself after he finished. Aengus(who Merlin recognized after his outburst at the god, he looked incredibly similar to Arthur when Merlin first met him) rolled his eyes,
“We cannot seriously be listening to this child! How old is he? 12?” Merlin felt offended. He knew he had never really grown out of that boy-ish gangliness and the teenage features, but damn. He thought he at least looked to be eighteen. Not according to the god of youth though.
“Shush Aengus! The child is right, something has been wrong with the magic on Earth. My priestesses have noticed it as well. If he truly is the man the druids speak of, and something has gone wrong with his magic, it could be catastrophic.” Ceridwen said, and even though she was defending him, Merlin still didn’t enjoy being called a child. He was 27! There’s no way they weren’t just being mean.
“But-“
“This is not your area of expertise Aengus! There is a reason we called for Ceridwen in a meeting of the council.” Daghda said, stopping Aengus. The entire room went still. This was the first time the chief god had spoken.
“What about you Taliesin, what do you think? Magic falls under your domain as well, even if the magic folk were your brother’s specialty.” Daghda asked. Taliesin flinched at the mention of his brother. Merlin felt a slight twinge of guilt.
“I think…we trust the boy. Magic has been off since Emrys died, and the Pendragon king did nothing to help it.” Taliesin said after a moment of consideration.
“Daghda, please! Taliesin had been whining about his baby brother’s death for centuries! Can we truly trust him to see past his emotions of this?” Aengus argued, and the room went cold as the gods sat quietly, in consideration.
“Aengus, you can’t be serious! My brother rejected you and you’ve had a personal vendetta against him since then! I am being logical, it is you all that are not! When two gods of magic tell you something is wrong, you should be much more inclined to listen!” Taliesin shouted, causing the entire room to flinch. Lugh spoke up after a long silence,
“Taliesin, my friend, Aengus has a point. You have been known to let your-“
“You too, Lugh? Really?” Taliesin asked, betrayal clear in his voice.
“You were not the only person who lost someone close to you when Emrys died Taliesin! He was my best friend!” Lugh said, emotion clear in his voice for the first time. Merlin didn’t know how to react.
“Yet no one else made an attempt to save him! And now we have a chance to help the people he gave up his life to protect, and n one will even do that!” Taliesin argued, venom clear in his voice. Merlin felt incredibly out of place, like he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to.
“The humans gave up on us Taliesin. For someone so wise, you struggle to accept that.” Lugh said quietly, almost disappointedly.
“And for someone so keen on justice, you seem rather against actually achieving it. What happened to truth, Lugh?” Taliesin spat.
“That is enough, all of you. Taliesin is correct, we will not turn our backs on humankind. They may have forced us out, but there are many who still worship, the boy is proof of this. We will help him.” Daghda declared, and there was no arguing with the god. Merlin knew any hope he had of the Library Keeper being wrong about his “godhood” was gone now.
It felt like weeks passed before Merlin got to go home. Merlin was given a room much nicer than he could ever dream of, and he knew he would miss terribly if he went back to Camelot.
If? When. Yeah. When.
“Merlin!” Taliesin demanded, causing the boy to jump. Merlin had always thought of himself as a tall person, he was taller than Arthur after all, but with how long he had been surrounded by gods who rarely ever shifted down to his size, he was beginning to feel like a baby.
Not like the gods did anything to stop that. They all treated him as if he was a baby, he woke up to Ceridwen rocking him back and forth as if he was an infant for gods’ sakes!
“Yes Taliesin?” Merlin asked, trying to be as nice as possible. Taliesin was acting like how Arthur had for so long before Merlin had left. Clingy.
Merlin couldn’t go five seconds without Taliesin scooping him up and taking him somewhere. “Come see the gardens” this. “Try some fae food—wait never mind I forgot you’re human” that.
That was another thing. He was here to become a god, yet all Merlin had done while he was here was eat food and be babied.
“Come with me brother! I have something to show you!” Taliesin called out, pulling Merlin to his feet from the bed. Merlin groaned, he really didn’t feel like going on a trip with Taliesin today.
But they went somewhere different today. A garden, like usual, but Merlin had never seen this one. The moment Merlin stepped inside, it felt…different.
“I’m incredibly sorry brother, but this is for the sake of our people.” Taliesin apologized, stepping away from Merlin. Merlin whipped around. What the hell?
When he tried to follow Taliesin out, Merlin was stopped by some invisible wall. Fuck.
“What is this?” Merlin shouted, but no sound came out.
The Trials of Badurn, the Father of the Daghda’s gift to the Tuatha de Danaan.
Merlin shrieked as the voices rang out in his head. It was official. He was crazy. Done for.
You will ascend.
That was the last thing Merlin remembered before there was blinding pain. It was all pain. He was only pain. Nothing else. There were occasional….flashes. Memories that Merlin was sure weren’t his.
Then he was there. It was horrifying. A battle larger than anything he had ever seen. Merlin didn’t know what to do. Everything was blood. The pain that had once encompassed Merlin’s entire body now focused on his arm and leg, which were both bent at strange angles.
Merlin crawled through the bodies, trying to find someone, anyone, who was living. Who could tell him what was happening.
Finally, he came across someone. A group of someone’s. Merlin couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they seemed panicked.
Finally, they flipped his body over. Merlin had tried, really, but he couldn’t. His body wasn’t functioning, and his vision kept going in and out.
Merlin could kinda tell what they were saying. Something about failure, but he was absolutely sure they were calling him Emrys.
They might’ve been Druids, but certainly none Merlin had met before. So could these be….no.
When the excruciating pain returned for the fourth memory, Merlin was sure. He was reliving the memories of the real Emrys. The god-boy, who had died so the people of magic could survive.
This memory was…different. Merlin felt in control. Like he was making the decisions, not following the story of something that had already happened.
In fact, Merlin wasn’t sure this was a memory at all. The people around Merlin seemed to acknowledge him in a way that was reminiscent of how most of the knights looked at Merlin.
He was important, sure. If any of the knights directly said something, Arthur would have them in the stocks. But he was still nothing.
The people seemed like druids, but Merlin could not be sure. His memories were spilling over into the memories he had witnessed, and now everything he knew kept flickering in and out of what he had just learned. Merlin could not remember what the druid’s of his time wore, and how it was different from the druids before the purge, he just knew it was. It was a strange feeling, and Merlin disliked it very much.
“So you are my successor?” A voice boomed from behind Merlin. He flinched, Goddess, what was wrong with these gods? There’s this thing called talking to people from where they can see you, and none of the gods seemed to understand the concept. Merlin spun on his heel, trying to settle his rapidly beating heart. Merlin was sure that after all the memories he had witnessed, and all the excruciating pain and trauma his brain had been subjected to in such a short period of time, his heart needed a minute. Of course he dd not get one, because even though Merlin was a guest of the Tuatha De Danaan, he did not get to lounge about. No it felt exactly the same as being a servant in Camelot. Fifty million things to do and Merlin still needed to stop and save Arthur’s ass.
The similarities really hadn’t helped Merlin’s first night there, where he had managed to convince himself he was hallucinating and was still in the castle. It had been mortifying when he all but confessed his feeling for Arthur to Aengus.
“You could say that, I guess. I’ve been thinking of you as my predecessor recently.” Merlin said, mostly to himself. He was calm, he was! This was simply another god, one that was supposed to be dead.
“Good, good. Yes, I…how has my big brother been? He was always quite…clingy, yes that’s the word, for someone so intelligent. He cares greatly, and I hope he has not been causing you trouble.” Emrys laughed, taking in Merlin’s bewildered expression. For Merlin, it felt like looking in a mirror. A mirror of an older, battle-hardened version of him. Something about Emrys seemed wrong, like he had seen too much far too young. Just a few of Emrys’ memories did make Merlin believe that was very true.
“He seems to be well, I guess.” Merlin muttered, not sure how to address the man before him. Should he be more formal? He always tried to be formal with the Tuatha De Danaan and whatever other gods showed up to visit “the boy.” But Emrys was technically him, and Merlin would not appreciate it if some strange kid walked up to him and started acting all strange.
“That’s good.” An awkward silence proceeded them. Merlin did not know what to say, and it seems, neither did Emrys. Emrys took a deep breath, wringing his fingers together, “Well kid, I think it’s time we discuss what you were sent here for. Are you ready to become a god?”