AU Merlin fic: The Powerless Prince

[dk323]

Title: The Powerless Prince
Author: dk323
Rating: R
Pairings/Characters: Merlin/Arthur, Ygraine, Morgana, Mordred, Lancelot
Word Count: 26K (total)
Content/Warnings: Character death
Summary: Not long after being born, Prince Arthur Pendragon is kidnapped. When he’s older, Arthur learns he’s destined to save his poisoned land with the help of a First Order wizard named Merlin. During their time together, Arthur soon discovers that not possessing magic like his mother makes him far from powerless.
Author's Notes: This fic was written for fluffyllama as a part of the merlin_holidays fic exchange.

Prompts/kinks/tropes fulfilled: amnesia, two against the world, journey, characters dropped into dangerous situations, nightmare, huddling for warmth, winter, insanity
Much thanks to my beta red_cortina for looking over this fic and catching the errors as well as helping me improve the story. I really appreciate it. :)
Happy Holidays, fluffyllama! I hope you enjoy this story.
Disclaimer: The characters depicted herein belong to Shine and BBC. The show Legend of the Seeker is property of ABC studios (some ideas from the show are in the story, no knowledge of show needed). There are some elements inspired by Disney’s Tangled. I make no profit from this endeavor.

The Powerless Prince @ AO3: Here

~ * ~

PART ONE

~ * ~

And they say when confronted by a Pristinely Ungifted one, a wizard will fall to his knees, powerless.

~ * ~

“Arthur?” Merlin said, but Arthur had stopped breathing. “Arthur! No. You can’t die!”

“You can’t leave me so soon,” he whispered quietly, hugging Arthur’s body to him.

Silent tears fell down his face but Merlin didn’t have the energy to wipe them away.

Merlin barely knew Arthur yet it was still painful to watch any man die, bleeding out before him, and as a Wizard of the First Order he could do nothing.

~ * ~

Eighteen years earlier:

Queen Ygraine of Camelot thought the worst day of her life was the day she lost her sight completely. Her blindness was the price she had to endure from the magic-poisoned land. Then she reconsidered that assessment the day her son was born and she couldn’t even see him.

The Court Physician, Taliesin, told her that Arthur had golden hair and blue eyes just like her.

Ygraine was glad for it, as Arthur’s late father was a man she did not care to think about now. Uther had always been uneasy about her magical ability and her friendship with Nimueh.

“Your Majesty,” Taliesin spoke up. “I believe Arthur is unlike any other child in the land,” he told her.

“What do you mean? Has the magic of the land affected him already?” Ygraine asked him. As she leaned back against the pillows, Ygraine cradled Arthur close to her, kissing him softly on top of the head. “Mother loves you, my little one,” she whispered in a tone of deep affection.

She hoped Arthur would be older before the poisoned land forced an affliction on him. These afflictions were burdens both magic and non-magic folk couldn’t escape from.

“No, that’s not it. The opposite I believe. I’ve never seen this sort of condition before,” Taliesin admitted.

Suddenly Ygraine heard the telltale sound of Nimueh magically appearing in the room, followed by a thud and a sigh. Had that been Nimueh? She again wished she could see, but she felt she was getting better at strengthening her other senses. She didn’t doubt that it had been Nimueh collapsing.

“Taliesin?” Ygraine asked him. She heard the older man walk away from her.

“It’s not good, My Queen,” Taliesin informed her. “I believe Nimueh is dead. The poisoned land has claimed her life.”

“No. No. It can’t be true.” Ygraine uttered in disbelief.

The shock of her dear friend’s death had taken the breath out of her, the pain of such a loss making her heart ache. But as she felt the comforting weight of her son in her arms, she knew she had to stay strong and be there for him. He was her priority now.

When Arthur started to cry, Ygraine murmured soothing words to him. He quieted to her relief.

“She came with a message she couldn’t deliver,” Taliesin continued quietly.

Ygraine heard the sound of paper being unfolded.

“What does it say, Taliesin?” Ygraine asked him.

“It’s about Arthur. Nimueh said that Arthur is the Pristinely Ungifted one we’ve all been waiting for. She Saw this truth just before she composed this message. And well… the words are raised, Your Highness. I think you can read them by touch.”

Ygraine took the piece of parchment he placed in her hand. She felt the raised marks upon the parchment and sombrely read with her fingers.

“I can feel my final moments descend upon me. I will die soon, and nothing can be done. But do not mourn me, my dear friend and kindred spirit.

I will always love you, My Beloved Ygraine. Be happy that your golden son, your Arthur, will be safe from the nightmare of our poisoned land. A nightmare that I believe he will rescue us all from with your steady guidance.

Fare well, my love.

Nimueh”

Ygraine felt tears fall down her cheeks and she hugged Arthur closer to her.

“My Lady, I need to look Arthur over,” Taliesin told her not unkindly. “To understand his nature as a Pristinely Ungifted one better.”

“Tomorrow, Taliesin. That can wait, old friend.”

“Of course, Your Highness. I understand.”

Ygraine felt Arthur be an anchor for her, keeping her from falling apart under the sudden loss of Nimueh. While Nimueh had told her that she feared the poison of the land would kill her one day, Ygraine had refused to believe it. Refused to believe that her closest friend wouldn’t even live to see Arthur growing up.

But now she had to accept that Nimueh was gone, and she had to live for Arthur’s sake. That’s what Nimueh would have wanted.

~ * ~

That night:

Before Ygraine put her son to sleep, she gave him a stuffed Merlin falcon toy she conjured with her own magic. The feathers were a bright blue with glints of gold, and she was especially pleased that the feathers felt like real feathers, soft and light. Though she could not see the finished result of her work, by her touch alone she could imagine how the toy falcon looked in her mind’s eye. That was good enough for her.

After pressing a kiss on to his brow, Ygraine set Arthur gently down in the crib. She placed the special toy beside him. Barely a day old, her son wouldn’t recognize what it even was, but Ygraine felt a sense of rightness that the toy would be with him on the day of his birth.

“The falcon will protect you, my sweetheart. And in your dreams, you will soar like a bird, and nothing will trouble you because you will be safe and free. Rest well, Arthur.”

She reached out her hand to brush aside some of her son’s blond hair. Taliesin had described Arthur’s appearance to her in great detail and she had carefully touched her son’s face to solidify the picture of him inside her mind. It wasn’t perfect, but for now, she was satisfied. At least she had the peace of mind that due to Arthur’s unique condition, he would be spared the fate everyone else in the land dealt with whether they wanted to or not. Gaining an often frustrating affliction was a fact of life in this magic poisoned land.

Queen Ygraine sighed.

She left the nursery with a restless and grieving heart, thinking about the terrible loss of Nimueh. If her son was truly the prophesized Pristinely Ungifted one, then she dearly hoped he’d end the plague of afflictions before their magic poisoned land was destroyed by growing discontent and war.

~ * ~

Morgana knew it was wrong, but she was a member of the First Order. She was outside the bloody law, and if this was the way to get rid of her nasty affliction then she would do it. For seven years, since her sixteenth birthday, the magic poisoned land aged her beyond her years so that she was a wrinkled old witch that people avoided.

But then Mystra, the supreme power to the wizards and witches of the First Order, had given her a solution. At the time, the saving hope for Morgana seemed impossible. After all, it had been centuries since there was a person born Pristinely Ungifted.

Yet Mystra had told her to be vigilant. That though the exact identity of this unique individual was unknown in the prophecies, on the day of the person’s birth, Morgana would know.

And then she could act. Of course, before this auspicious day, she had made preparations for getting the child and setting up a place where they would live.

So that when Morgana came into Arthur’s room in the middle of the night, the first night of the child’s life, she was ready.

She was quiet, walking slowly due to her cursed old age. She approached the crib. In her hand, she held the special necklace with her family emblem of the hazel tree as a pendant.

Looking down into the crib, she saw him, barely a day old, and a white glow surrounding him if she focused her sight upon him. The white glow was outside proof that his blood was a powerful magic neutralizer. The child could never use magic or be affected by magic despite his mother, Queen Ygraine, being a sorceress – not one that was a part of the First Order – but still a magic user of respectable standing.

Knowing delay was not an option, Morgana reached into the crib to grab the child, cradling him into her arms. Regret came over her as she thought of her son she gave up almost a year ago.

About two years ago, she had found a spell to make her appear young for a day, and sought revenge on King Lot. He had treated her appallingly when he’d seen her as an old woman.

So in her bespelled younger form, she was intimate with him and vowed that the son the act would create would kill his kingly father one day. Mystra had offered to care for her son, and it was an offer Morgana couldn’t refuse. If Mystra wanted something, then her orders had to be followed. There were other children of First Order bloodlines in Mystra’s service, so her son wouldn’t be alone. That was a small comfort. Morgana hoped that under Mystra’s guidance, her son would thrive and grow powerful enough to kill King Lot.

Fortunately now, with Arthur in her care, she would finally have the chance to be a mother.

As she held him, the effects Mystra had said would happen did. Age fell away from her and she grew taller, her grey hair now returned to raven black and her skin smooth and unweathered. She was her true age of twenty-three, and she hoped that now she would age normally. She smiled, pleased.

She was about to place the hazel tree necklace around the baby’s neck when he began to cry in her arms.

“What is wrong?” Morgana whispered, feeling anxious because the baby’s cries could be heard and her scheme would fall apart.

She tried to hush him, singing a soft lullaby to him. She didn’t believe he was hungry or needed changing, no, it was something else.

“I wonder…” she mused.

She looked back into the crib and saw a stuffed Merlin falcon toy, likely magicked by Ygraine. What if that was it? Strange that a baby not even a day old would be attached to a toy already.

Morgana removed the toy from the crib and put it into the baby’s hands. She shot a quick glance at the door.

To her relief, Arthur quieted now that his favored toy was in his grasp. Morgana went to sit down in a nearby chair and she finally clasped the specially made necklace around the baby’s neck. The power was focused in the hazel tree pendant. She just had to make sure that Arthur wore the necklace at all times.

Thanks to the necklace, she could make a quick escape with the baby. Not even bothering to stand up, she magically transported them away from the nursery, the toy still clutched in the little Arthur’s arms.

~ * ~

“My son is gone.” Ygraine said quietly.

Early that morning, when she had discovered the crib empty, her son and his toy vanished, she had fainted.

The First Knight of Camelot, Sir Lancelot, had roused her. Now he was here with Taliesin in a small set of private chambers to discuss her son’s abduction. Thinking of it left a hole in her heart. First Nimueh had passed away suddenly and now her son had been taken. Ygraine hoped he was still alive. He just had to be. She could feel it.

“A member of the First Order must have taken him.” Taliesin voiced what Ygraine had already guessed.

“Those of the First Order believe themselves to be invincible, the most powerful beings in the land,” Sir Lancelot said with a nod.

“If that’s true, as I believe it is, then how are we to find my son? A First Order member – if they want something, they will get it and make sure no one will thwart them. Unless one favors death,” Queen Ygraine said in frustration.

“I will do what I can with the knights, Your Highness,” Sir Lancelot promised dutifully as always.

Ygraine felt bad for Lancelot due to his painful condition of the hands, his affliction caused by the poisoned land. It made wielding a sword hard on him. No matter how much he assured her he was fine, Ygraine could see through him. He had to wear leather gloves because when his hands were exposed, he had to seek Taliesin for a magic ointment. A chronic irritating affliction he may have, but Lancelot was her best knight despite that. No one matched him in his leadership ability and his steady command of the knights of Camelot.

“Thank you, Lancelot. I can only hope that since the toy was taken along with my son, then the culprit was not a heartless soul.”

“A good thought to have, My Lady. I can see if any friends of mine who are of the First Order have information about the young prince,” Taliesin suggested.

She gave each of them a small smile. Queen Ygraine was heartened by the support of her confidantes.

She would see her son again one day. To spare her heart breaking completely, Ygraine simply had to believe that.

~ * ~

Five years later:

“Mother, I don’t feel well,” said a five-year old Arthur.

Morgana beckoned him to her and she placed her hand over his brow. “Just a little fever, I can – wait, Arthur, where is your necklace?” she inquired of him when she realized the hazel tree pendant necklace was not on his neck.

Arthur bowed his head, looking sheepish. “I took it off…Falcon didn’t like it,” he told her. He didn’t meet her eyes and instead gazed at the floor.

Falcon was the name Arthur had chosen for the stuffed Merlin falcon toy because he thought it sounded impressive. It was a concern for her that sometimes Arthur treated the toy as an imaginary friend. Being so careful not to get caught, Morgana had kept Arthur sheltered and he didn’t have friends his own age as a result. So Morgana knew she could only blame herself, but if the wrong people got their hands on Arthur, he could be in terrible danger. The properties of his blood could lead some ruthless people to bleed him out completely and use his blood for protection against magic.

Then there was the ridiculous prophecy that he would solve the problem of the land being poisoned by magic, putting an end to the afflictions. That was hard to conceive for Morgana because the problem was a very big one and one person just couldn’t simply solve it. Not that she personally cared too much since her affliction had been lifted.

Soon after she had kidnapped him, she’d settled him in a cottage within the outskirts of a sleepy village and bordering an expansive forest. She had picked out the exact cottage months before Arthur was born. Morgana wouldn’t even let her fellow First Order friends know about what she was doing. Only Mystra knew, but then again she was a goddess and nothing got past her.

“My little one, you know that it’s important to wear the necklace. Otherwise I can’t heal you with my magic so you feel better.”

Arthur nodded. “Yes, Mother.”

He went off to retrieve the necklace.

And so with the necklace on, Morgana knelt down before him and healed him with her magic. “There you are. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Arthur said with a small smile.

Morgana returned the smile, and hugged him to her, ruffling his hair. “Now maybe you could convince Falcon to like the necklace.”

Arthur shrugged. “I don’t know. I think he’s angry with me.”

“Maybe a night’s rest will help him. Don’t lose hope, my love.”

Arthur nodded. “Okay, Mother.”

She kissed him on the head. “Go on then. Choose what you’d like me to read to you before bed,” Morgana suggested.

“I like it when you tell one of your stories…please, Mother?” He asked her earnestly. “One with Falcon?”

“Very well. I will do that.”

Arthur grinned at her. “I love you,” he said to her easily.

“I love you too,” Morgana replied with a fond smile.

~ * ~

Arthur was seventeen when his interest was piqued by the appearance of another cottage some feet away from his home. How odd that a dwelling could appear out of thin air like that. It must have been magically conjured. Maybe the resident of the neighbouring cottage was a magic user like his mother?

He sat in a chair beside the window that gave a direct view to this mystery cottage. Rubbing the hazel tree pendant on the chain he wore around his neck, Arthur thoughtfully considered the other dwelling and what sort of magic person lived there. Was the person a part of the First Order like his mother? Or another kind of wielder of magic?

“What do you think, Falcon? Man or woman?” Arthur asked out loud to his stuffed Merlin toy.

He knew he was too old to still keep a toy, but Falcon was different. There was something so comforting about him that Arthur couldn’t see himself getting rid of him any time soon.

Falcon just stared back at him from his place on the small round table in front of Arthur.

“You’re right. Must be a man.” Arthur said with a nod.

He rubbed his brow, sighing. He wished he could have a friend his age to talk to. Mother was protective of him, but at least these last few years, she allowed him to venture out into the forest alone. But Arthur never met anyone, only forest creatures. Though admittedly, it was nice to go for swim in the lake nestled pleasantly within the forest; practise with his sword (since he was determined to defend himself somehow if he couldn’t use magic) or less exciting, study books as a part of his educational studies.

Still his feeling of loneliness plagued him.

When his mother came home, Arthur brought up the intriguing appearance of the cottage.

His mother looked in the direction Arthur was pointing to. He saw her blink in confusion.

“I can’t see it, dear. There’s no cottage there.”

“But then why can I?” Arthur wondered.

His mother smiled lightly. “Well I suppose it’s because of your special gift. The house must be magically cloaked. You can see through that.”

“Of course,” Arthur said.

He knew about being ‘Pristinely Ungifted’, but he didn’t find it all that special or impressive. He couldn’t do magic like his mother because of this gift or more like curse. What good was it? So what if he could see something that was otherwise magically hidden?

How boring.

“I want to know who lives there,” Arthur told her, curiosity gripping him. “The person is a magic user like you if the cottage is magically concealed.”

Morgana frowned slightly. “Yes, you’re right. Yet this newcomer could be dangerous. It would be wise to keep away from that house.”

“But Mother…” Arthur protested. He was a bit excited about the prospect of heading into danger.

“Arthur. I’m doing this for your safety,” she said firmly.

“I’m seventeen!” Arthur raised his voice, almost yelling. He wouldn’t back down this time. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions about where I want to go.”

His mother was still holding her ground. “And I’m your guardian and your elder. I’m only trying to keep you alive. You should be grateful you have someone who loves you like I do.”

“Yes I know, Mother. I understand. But you said magic that’s not yours can’t affect me, didn’t you? Then I’ll be safe from whoever this magic user is. They can’t use magic against me,” Arthur reasoned.

“Very well, then,” his mother relented, to Arthur’s surprise. “Go. Since you can see it, you might as well satisfy your curiosity. Take your sword though.”

Arthur grinned, thanking her. He went to grab his sword and headed out of the cottage.

“Don’t rush, sweetheart!” His mother called after him.

“I’ll be back soon,” Arthur said back to her.

With his sword in its sheath at his hip, Arthur went to the mystery dwelling.

~ * ~

There were two windows on either side of the door. Vivid blue, purple and red flowers were planted in front of the house. The flowers made Arthur wonder if a witch who was skilled gardener lived here.

Cautiously, Arthur knocked on the door. He didn’t hear anyone come to answer. After knocking a second time with no answer and no noise coming from within, Arthur took a deep breath and let himself in. Fortunately the door just needed to be pushed open. Maybe it could have been magically locked, a security maneuver Arthur could overcome. Sometimes, he thought, being Pristinely Ungifted had its advantages.

Even if it was wrong to intrude like this, Arthur wouldn’t let this opportunity pass him by. What if he returned home and his mother had a change of heart and forbid him to investigate who lived here?

No. It was now or never.

“Hello? I mean no harm… I’m Arthur. I live next door,” Arthur said out loud, wondering if he was just speaking to the empty air.

Someone had to live here. They simply had to be away from home at the moment.

In the cottage, the kitchen area complete with a big hearth was opposite the door, overtaking the whole far side of the dwelling. There was a door to his right which he believed led to private bedchambers since he saw a bit of the bed inside the room. A beautiful ornately-designed round table was positioned next to a side window on the home’s left side. On the table, there was a piece of parchment, but though it had writing on it, Arthur stopped himself from giving it a closer look. He was intruding enough.

Focusing on the dark wooden table itself, he peered at the carving of a dragon breathing out a fiery phoenix gracing its top. Arthur soon realized the significance of this dragon and phoenix design upon seeing a small tapestry hanging on the wall near the table. The wall-hanging gave him proof that a member of the First Order, like his mother, lived here.

The tapestry had the same dragon breathing out a phoenix design, and the family name, ‘Emrys’ in big letters below it.

He remembered his mother telling him that only certain magic users and their descending bloodlines could achieve an official First Order status. That status was granted upon successful completion of high-level magic tests. When man began to first walk the land, some humans were blessed with great magical power from the gods while others gained lesser magic or no magic at all. The ones granted great powers were then collectively known as the First Order of wizards and witches.

Dismally, Arthur knew that he’d never be considered for the First Order despite his mother. He couldn’t wield magic after all so his magic potential was zero. And he didn’t think there was anyone else like him in the land. His mother had told him that being Pristinely Ungifted was a very rare condition.

That always made Arthur feel more alone.

He shook his head, getting those sad thoughts out of his mind. On the positive, he had to say this person’s family emblem was very striking with the dragon and phoenix. More impressive than his mother’s hazel tree family emblem. Not that there was anything wrong with the hazel tree…it just didn’t make Arthur think of power and strength as he did when he looked at the dragon-phoenix symbol.

His eyes betraying him, he glanced at the parchment lying upon the table so innocuously. Looking at it closer, Arthur was concerned to see what looked like tear stains on the parchment. Or could it just be water?

It looked to be a letter, an old one judging by the yellowing.

Against his better judgment and no help from his curiosity, he read the letter,

“My little bird,

I love you so much, my child. But I cannot help you now. Mystra will, she will save you. Be a good boy, okay? Listen to her and be good and kind, and you will be happy. I will always be with you in your heart.

I know you are sad about your sister, but do not mourn Freya, my love. Do not worry. She is in a better place full of light and love. She’s an angel now, sweetheart. She’s your guardian angel, and don’t doubt that she’s watching over you.

Good bye, my son.

I love you.

Mother”

Arthur felt sorry for this family. The tragedy this letter conveyed made him hope that this son found peace after such loss. Arthur couldn’t imagine losing his family, meaning his mother – the only family he knew. He found this letter strange and wondered why the mother was saying goodbye. Why was she giving her son up to this Mystra? And where was the boy’s father during all this?

One thing was for certain. This son had to be the one living in this cottage, and this had to be an old letter that he still kept. The son must be an adult now.

“Excuse me,” said a masculine voice from behind him. He sounded angry. “Who are you and how did you get in here?”

Arthur swore. He turned around, raising his hands to show he wasn’t going to reach for his sword.

The man before him looked only a few years older than Arthur. In his early twenties at the most. He had dark hair like his mother yet his mother’s hair was graying now due to age. His eyes were blue like Arthur’s, but it was a different sort of blue. Like looking a bright blue glowing light with hints of gold mixed in. The colouring reminded him of Falcon and how his feathers were bright blue with some gold. Idly he contemplated if that similarity meant he was destined to meet this man. He was grateful at least that the other man seemed to be close to his age if a little older.

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said immediately. “My name is Arthur… I know I entered without your permission. I’m sorry. Honestly.”

The man’s brilliant blue eyes narrowed. “I see. And how did you get in?”

“I’m uh, I’m Pristinely Ungifted,” Arthur said.

The man peered at him as if looking him over more carefully. “Magic neutralizer. What a nightmare,” he muttered under his breath.

“Sorry? I could leave…sorry again for trespassing. What’s your name though if I may ask?”

“Emrys,” the man answered, still appearing suspicious of Arthur.

“But I saw the tapestry. Isn’t that your family name?” Arthur pointed out, nodding at the tapestry.

“You came in without being invited, Arthur, so why should I give you my name?” Emrys retorted harshly.

“I understand. Nevermind. I’ll go.” Arthur turned to leave.

“Good,” said Emrys.

Arthur wanted to ask him why he was so angry about the intrusion, but knew that wasn’t his place. Yes, he was in the wrong for abusing his Pristinely Ungifted ability and entering a home that had to be magically hidden for a reason. But the way Emrys was acting made Arthur wonder whether whatever this wizard was hiding from was serious. Serious enough to get annoyed with Arthur who was a stranger and not threatening him.

Before Arthur opened the door, he couldn’t resist bringing up the letter – to show his sympathy of the loss Emrys had suffered.

He turned around, stance cautious. “I wanted to say I’m sorry about the loss of your sister. I read the letter. I know I shouldn’t have, but it was just lying there.”

Arthur regretted saying anything when Emrys looked at him darkly then at the letter on the table.

Emrys groaned. “I had spelled the letter so only I could read it. But yet here you are. A thorn in my side. Just leave.”

“Fine,” Arthur said curtly.

His Pristinely Ungifted ability was getting him into trouble here. It was best to not make the situation worse than it already was.

He left feeling unhappy, but still curiosity kept him intrigued. Emrys was around his age, and a First Order member like his mother. Arthur wanted to know about Emrys even if the wizard clearly had problems and was, well, cold with him which Arthur felt he deserved after the trespassing. Yet still… something drew him to the wizard. The man with blue eyes that reminded him of Falcon.

~ * ~

Merlin sat at his table, covering his face in his hands and feeling so tired all of a sudden. He felt awful for acting that way toward that man, Arthur. But he was trying to avoid meeting new people now. It was just easier and less painful.

And it was just his luck that this Arthur happened to be Pristinely Ungifted. There was only one person known in the land to be Pristinely Ungifted – the Lost Prince of Camelot. So they had to be one and the same.

He sighed as he took the letter in his hand, reading it over again like he had over the past ten years. Merlin had memorized the letter yet it still made his heart ache each time he read it.

My little bird,

I love you so much, my child. But I cannot help you now. Mystra will, she will save you.

He remembered.

Ten years ago:

“No! I want to stay with my mum,” A ten-year old Merlin exclaimed.

He clutched his mother’s dead body. She was the last family he had left and he couldn’t leave her. He couldn’t.

Mystra kept trying to pull him away. “Merlin, there’s nothing you can do for her. Your mother loved you. She would want you to be safe. We live in a dangerous world and I’m only seeking to protect you. Please, my child.” She finished gently.

Merlin wiped his tears, choking back a sob. He let Mystra pull him away and embrace him in her arms.

“I don’t want to be like my father,” Merlin said quietly.

“Your father was afflicted. He was not himself. He loved all of you – you, your mother and Freya – very much. That never changed. But I promise you that you won’t have the same…ailment your poor father had.”

Merlin nodded sullenly. “Okay,” he said softly. “Thank you, My Lady.”

He took her hand and allowed Mystra to lead him away from his mother, the letter his mother wrote to him clutched in Merlin’s hand. The letter was stained with his tears and he was torn between ripping it apart in unhappiness at losing his mother and keeping it forever.

*

In Mystra’s magically protected territory, Merlin feared he would be alone during his time under Mystra’s care.

But his concerns were left unfounded when an eight-year old dark-haired boy approached him. The boy had piercing green eyes that captured Merlin’s attention.

“Hello, I’m Mordred,” the boy said with a smile. “My mother is of the Le Fay family, but she gave me up so I have never met her,” the boy explained, sounding not too bothered by his mother’s actions. Or maybe he just hid it very well. “What’s your name?” Mordred asked as he sat down on the grass beside Merlin.

“Hi, my name is Merlin,” he told him. He paused a long moment, thoughts of his father pained him. “My father is of the Emrys family,” Merlin informed him with a shrug.

“Oh! You have that dragon-phoenix family emblem? That’s one of my favorites,” Mordred said.

Merlin nodded. He didn’t feel too excited about his family symbol. Anything to do with his family was hard to think about. He wished he still had his family and wasn’t so alone in the world now.

“Your symbol is the hazel tree, isn’t it?” Merlin brought up, deliberately moving the conversation away from his own family.

Mordred nodded. “Do you want to be friends?” He asked him, sounding uncertain like Merlin would reject his offer.

“Okay,” Merlin said easily.

He could use at least one friend. Mordred was his best hope.

~ * ~

Now:

“Merlin?”

Merlin looked up to find Mordred before him.

“I can’t stay hidden forever,” Merlin said. “They’ll find me, and kill me. And then with my affliction…”

Merlin looked down to find his hands shaking.

Mordred rested his hands over Merlin’s to still them. Merlin felt only slightly better at the touch. “I know your affliction is a new development, but I think you can still work around it.” Mordred said optimistically.

Merlin huffed. “I almost wish I had your affliction instead.”

“You’d hate it,” Mordred said lightly.

Merlin didn’t feel like answering that. Mordred was right anyway.

Mordred told him to get up then, that it wasn’t helping to sit there feeling miserable. Merlin let himself be pulled up by Mordred.

He idly wondered if that Arthur would return to visit him. Despite him being Pristinely Ungifted and making Merlin look like an idiot as he easily got past all his magical spells, Merlin had to admit he was attracted to the blond man. Arthur appeared to be a few years younger than him, and maybe a bit naïve, but Mystra help him, Merlin wanted to see more of that man.

Even if his affliction would make a mess of things. Merlin knew he had to be grateful for not having a worse affliction like his father had. Sometimes feeling that gratitude was hard, but he hoped that with time he would come to make peace with his predicament.

~ * ~

Arthur didn’t want to tell his mother about his time at the other cottage. He felt he’d made a mess of the situation enough by intruding when Emrys clearly wanted him to go.

But…

What if he visited tomorrow? Maybe today the wizard had been in a bad mood. If Arthur tried again, making sure to only come in if Emrys allowed him, then their second meeting could make up for the near disaster of today.

“How was it, Arthur?” Morgana asked him as they ate dinner.

Arthur shrugged. “All right, I suppose. He’s a part of the First Order like you. But he’s a private person. Told me he’d prefer to be left alone.”

“Did he tell you his name?” she asked him.

Arthur shook his head. “He didn’t.” And technically it was true since Emrys hadn’t given him his first name.

“Okay, well, we can only respect his wishes. It’s best you don’t visit him again,” his mother advised.

Arthur nodded, though inside, he knew he would be unable to resist seeing the man again. There was something about Emrys, and Arthur wouldn’t ignore that gut feeling. He had to see him again, it was that simple.

Even if Emrys might force him to leave again, Arthur wouldn’t be deterred.

~ * ~

Late in the night, Morgana was deep in the forest before she found him. All around her was quiet, too quiet, with only the odd hoot of an owl and the crinkling of leaves as she walked.

Her son was sitting before a big fire, and he didn’t look back even though he must have heard her approach.

“Mordred,” she said in a near whisper.

“Leave me alone, please,” he said, still not directing his gaze at her.

Morgana noticed how intensely Mordred was looking into the fire – as if staring at it hard enough would will the flames to reveal their secrets.

“I just want to talk to you, look at you,” Morgana said earnestly. “I have not seen you since you were small enough to hold in my arms. And I thought I would never see you again, but here you are. I heard there’s another member of the First Order living outside the forest, not far from where I live. Imagine my surprise when I sensed my own son nearby.”

Mordred didn’t say anything.

“Now I would guess that member is your friend? I would have sensed you sooner if you’d been living there. So I would assume you were visiting and live elsewhere.”

“I’m on my way home, and I don’t want to talk to you,” Mordred said, his tone firm.

Finally Mordred looked at her. Morgana saw that he had inherited her green eyes, eyes that flared like green fire as he looked upon her.

Morgana sat down beside him. She reached out her hand to touch his cheek. Mordred flinched and shifted away from her.

“Sweetheart…”

“Don’t,” Mordred said. “You’re not my mother, you’re just the woman who gave birth to me. And Mystra told me, don’t think she didn’t. How you wanted me to be a weapon, to kill my father. A King I don’t even know. Don’t lie to me now. I know I’m a weapon to you, not your son. Just go.”

“Mordred, that’s not true,” she defended, but paused when Mordred shot a disbelieving glare at her. “I was younger then,” Morgana changed tact. “I was very unhappy with my affliction, and I wanted Lot to pay for treating me terribly just because I looked old. I loved you from the moment you were born… you were never just a weapon. You are my son, my only trueborn son.”

“Go away, or I’ll make you leave,” Mordred said, not moved by her words.

Morgana was sad to know her son hated her so. Maybe if she had fought Mystra on the point of keeping her son, getting the chance to raise him, then Mordred would care for her as she cared for him. But to go against Mystra had been unthinkable. Morgana had felt like she had no choice then.

“Do you have an affliction?” Morgana asked.

She hoped he didn’t, but no one could escape the curse of the affliction unless he was Pristinely Ungifted like Arthur.

“Yes.”

“Well you look all right.” Morgana pointed out, grateful at least that her son hadn’t been given a physical deformity or been prematurely aged as she had. The magic poisoned land could be particularly unforgiving to some with the afflictions it forced upon them.

“It’s not one easily seen. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember. I’ve become used to it,” Mordred said nonchalantly, shrugging it off.

“I’m sorry you’ve had it for so long…if there was anything I could have done to spare you from the pain,” Morgana said.

“Please, I’d like to be alone,” Mordred said.

Morgana couldn’t leave without embracing him. He let her take him into her arms, and he relaxed only a little upon the contact.

She kissed him on top of the head, happy and relieved that her son resembled her more than his wretched father. It was a blessing to look at him, and to see her green eyes in her own child.

“Take care of yourself,” Morgana told her son as she pulled out of the embrace.

He only glanced at her, nodding slightly. “Goodbye.”

Morgana left her son with a heavy heart. She knew that he’d probably never call her Mother, but at least this meeting was a start.

~ * ~

Arthur knew he had an opportunity to see Emrys again the next day after breakfast. That was when his mother usually went to the market.

He decided not to take his sword, thinking it’d look better if he wasn’t so obviously armed. Instead, he took two daggers, one up his sleeve, sheathed and in a holster, and another on his leg.

After saying goodbye to Falcon, Arthur left home and headed to Emrys’s cottage.

He knocked on the door, feeling anxious as he waited for a response.

A few moments later, but what felt like an eternity, the door opened.

Emrys stood before him. But what puzzled Arthur was the lack of recognition on the wizard’s face as if he didn’t remember him.

“How did you see this place?” Emrys first asked, looking as confused as Arthur. And very concerned as well. That was odd, Arthur thought. Should he remember Arthur telling him about his ability? “I thought I had done a strong enough invisibility charm.”

“Hi…it’s me. Arthur. I visited yesterday?” Arthur told him. “Magic doesn’t affect me.”

Emrys’s eyes widened. “Oh I see now. You’re Arthur, the one who is Pristinely Ungifted. Sorry. I hit my head yesterday after you left. Memories are all a mess. Come in, Arthur,” he said graciously.

What Arthur didn’t miss was the lack of recognition still present on Emrys’s face, as if he was missing his memories of the day before, which was crazy to Arthur. How did a wizard of the First Order have memory problems? They were supposed to hold great power after all like his mother did.

“I’m sorry again about intruding yesterday,” Arthur brought up.

Emrys nodded absentmindedly. “Oh yes. Well no harm done…”

He went to the same round table Arthur had seen the letter at. The old letter was now gone and there was a journal on the table.

Arthur looked over and saw the journal said, “My memories.” He didn’t want to ask Emrys about it because if there was a chance the journal title had been magically concealed, then it would be like yesterday. And he didn’t want to Emrys to get annoyed with him again. Arthur wanted to be friends with this man no matter how strangely he acted.

Arthur also suspected that based on the journal title, Emrys was lying to him about hitting his head. It was something bigger than that and more concerning.

“Sit down, why don’t you? I was just writing in my journal…should have put it away. Very dull, but it’s good to write down your thoughts. To reflect sometimes.”

Emrys took the journal and made it magically disappear, to a place for safe-keeping Arthur guessed.

Arthur nodded as he sat down. He was suspecting another little lie though. But it wasn’t his place to intrude on Emrys’s private business. “Yeah, I understand.”

Emrys smiled. “Thank you. Would you like something to drink?” He asked as he moved to the hearth, and filled two cups with hot water from a pot he took from above the fire. He put a few herbs into the tea and set the cups down upon the table, sitting down himself across from Arthur.

“I’d like that.” Arthur said. “I was wondering what your name is? You only told me your name was Emrys, but that’s your family name, isn’t it?”

“My name is Merlin. Why didn’t I tell you that the other day?”

Arthur thought it just couldn’t be a coincidence that Falcon was a Merlin bird, and now this wizard went by Merlin. What if he was destined to meet this man?

“I think you were having a bad day,” Arthur told him. “I know I wasn’t helping when I’d come in when you’d have rather been without company.”

Arthur sipped the tea then, finding the tea pleasantly sweet, as if sweet berries put into the tea. He wondered just what sort of herbs Merlin used, and if they were magically enhanced.

Merlin shrugged. “That’s a shame then. As you can see, I’m feeling better today. Though I should tell you I’ll be leaving tomorrow. In case you decide to visit again.”

“You’re leaving? Why? You just arrived here yesterday? That’s sudden.”

“I suppose even one day here by myself isn’t working for me. I don’t like being alone. I thought it’d be better to stay with a good friend of mine. He’s like a brother to me and he’s agreed to letting me stay with him. I don’t know what possessed me to come here…anyway…” Merlin trailed off.

“I was hoping to spend more time with you,” Arthur told him. “I wish you weren’t leaving.”

Merlin was somewhat of a mystery Arthur wished to solve, but now he would be unable to if he wouldn’t see him again.

Merlin smiled. “I can tell you that I may return in a few months’ time in the autumn. That’s five months away. Not long at all.”

“My birthday will be around that time, in the autumn. I’ll be eighteen.”

“I’ll try to be back by then.” Merlin told him.

“I hope you do. Thanks for telling me you were leaving at least,” Arthur said.

Arthur hated this now. He had hoped he could see more of Merlin, but now the strange wizard was leaving the very next day after Arthur first met him. It was disappointing and frustrating. But Arthur couldn’t convince him to stay. Merlin would be better off with this close friend of his over Arthur whom he had just met.

Barely knowing the man, he had little to persuade Merlin to stay. He only had a desperate plea that he had no friends and that he saw the potential in striking up a friendship with Merlin.

Arthur said his goodbyes, and Merlin gave him early birthday wishes. It left Arthur both happy to have him as a friend and confused about the memory loss that Merlin appeared to have.

~ * ~

That night Arthur had a strange dream. He was in a small brightly-lit circular room. A beautiful woman with long white hair and pale blue eyes approached him, a warm smile reaching her eyes. Her silken blue gown flowed as she walked. Arthur didn’t fail to notice the big rose-coloured stone ring upon her finger, the stone as round as marble.

“Arthur Pendragon, my child, it’s so good to meet you finally. I am Mystra, leader of the First Order.”

“I was wondering who you were since I saw your name. But I don’t understand. My mother is of the same Order, and she never mentioned you.”

“I asked her not to… I knew one day I would see you and I could formally introduce myself. Your time is coming, Arthur, so I’m here to speak to you in this dream.”

“My time? Does this have to do with me being Pristinely Ungifted?” he guessed, knowing how rare the condition was.

Mystra nodded. “Yes, my dear. You are not aware of the afflictions plaguing the land, I assume? Your gift has protected you from such a curse.”

Arthur shook his head. “I’ve never heard of them. What are they?”

“Many centuries ago, a misguided wizard of the First Order believed that putting more magic into the land would benefit all humankind. Unfortunately he did not realize that over time, the magic would poison the land and turn on humans… forcing afflictions on everyone. No one can predict when they will gain an affliction; just that it is inevitable, making the waiting a terrible affair. Some may simply die before their time. I knew a witch who was untouched by an affliction for years. Yet her untimely demise was what the poisoned land cursed her with.”

“So the problem is magic?”

“No,” she told him gently. “The problem is there is too much magic saturating the land. The magic levels are too high. What needs to be done is to return the magic to healthier levels. We still need magic to keep the land thriving. We still need my kind, of the First Order, to remain guardians of magic. Only you can heal the land and cure those with afflictions. And for children yet to be born, they can be spared the pain of afflictions plaguing their parents.”

“Wait…these afflictions; do they affect those of the First Order too?” Arthur asked.

He thought of Merlin and his memory loss.

“Yes. No one is safe except for a Pristinely Ungifted one like you. A wizard is just as subject to the affliction as a person who does not possess magic.”

“These afflictions… what can they be? Could one of them be memory loss?” Arthur wondered.

Mystra looked at him knowingly, like she was aware of why he had brought up memory loss. Did she know he had met Merlin?

“Yes, memory loss is an affliction one could receive from the land. Afflictions can be a range of different conditions. While some are problems of the mind like memory loss, there are also physical deformities and ailments. Some deal with painful conditions for the rest of their lives. No one can rightly predict what affliction they will get, if it will be one they could live with or one that would drive them to end their lives.”

Arthur thought that was horrible and to imagine all the children not even born yet, who hadn’t done anything to deserve such a curse, would be afflicted. He had to do something to stop this. If Mystra said that he could help, then Arthur would do his best to rid the land of these afflictions.

“What must I do?” Arthur wanted to know.

“You need to gain a special key, a key freely given to you by its keeper.”

“Okay. Could you tell me where to find this keeper?”

Mystra gave him a small smile. “All I can tell you is that key is in the possession of an innocent soul. Someone you know will lead you to where you must go. His name is Merlin, of the Emrys family.”

“He told me he was leaving tomorrow though,” Arthur pointed out.

“That is not a problem. It won’t be until your eighteenth year that you can undertake the finding of the key. There is power in age, and for you, this is no exception. Merlin told you he will return. You can trust that he will come back when the time is right. You and he are meant to be by each other’s side. It is fated, a bond unlike any other. Now I shall leave you, Arthur. Fare well.”

With those last words from her, Mystra faded away from Arthur’s view. The dream ended leaving Arthur with a peaceful dreamless sleep for the rest of the night.

~ * ~

The next morning, Arthur decided to ask his mother if she had an affliction or if she hadn’t gained one yet. Arthur had never noticed anything peculiar about his mother to be deemed as one of these dreaded afflictions. So maybe she had been spared for now?

“I spoke with Mystra in my dreams last night. She told me about these afflictions. Do you know anything about them? Do you have one?” Arthur asked her, seeing how his mother froze and looked rather uneasy when he brought up the afflictions.

“Mother?” Arthur spoke again in concern when she didn’t respond.

She smiled weakly and sat down across from him.

“I’m glad that Mystra has spoken to you. I’ll be honest with you, my son; unfortunately I did have an affliction.”

“But how did it go away? Mystra told me the afflictions lasted until you died.”

“I was lucky,” his mother explained simply. Then she continued when Arthur nodded for her to speak further, “When I turned sixteen, I was aged beyond my years. I feared I would die from the affliction, from the pains of old age. It hurt to know that I should have had decades yet to live, and yet all those years were forcibly taken from me.”

“But you were able to find a cure?”

His mother nodded. “I learned that you would help me, simply by your presence, to reverse my condition and return me to my rightful age. Your birth saved my life. I was able to age normally once again.”

“If I was able to help you, then could I do the same with others who have these afflictions?”

“I do not know, sweetheart. I was lucky that my affliction was solved because of you, but other afflictions may require a different remedy.”

“I wish I could help somehow,” Arthur voiced with a sigh. While he knew from Mystra that when he was eighteen, he would be able to make things better, it was a shame he couldn’t do it now.

His mother smiled at him lightly. “I know, my dear. But you shouldn’t trouble yourself with matters that don’t affect you. Worrying too much will make you ill.”

Arthur nodded. “Thank you for…you know, telling me about your affliction.”

“Yes, of course.”

He spent most of the day outside. Though he saw Merlin’s dwelling still there, Arthur didn’t dare go inside. Merlin was gone by now, he was sure, and if he went and checked then he’d have it confirmed.

Five months until he would see the mysterious wizard again.

When everything would change, Arthur didn’t doubt that.

~ * ~

Part two