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1
I am Merlin, called enchanter, wizard, sorcerer, Master of Nature, Maker of Knights, Anointer of Kings.
I am Merlin, who has lasted through the ages, who has made a peace forged through loyalty and blood, who all fear and bow to in mortal respect.
I am Merlin, and I am. . .afraid.
Of what, it is difficult to say. One does not know the mind of God and why he chooses things to happen as they do.
I, who has stood in the face of the enemy and smirked, who has laughed in the face of Death for more than a hundred years, am afraid of a shadow.
No ordinary shade, mind you, it was, and IS, the essence of evil itself. Not even Morgian, for all her deceits and charms, could ever wish to obtain this level of darkness. It, He, has come to destroy all I have wrought on the Isle of the Mighty.
I know this. And more. I have seen it all with my own eyes. Death, deceit, destruction all loom on the edge of the horizon of the future.
And I know not what to do.
He has not dared to show himself, not yet, even still, his evil permeates the air I breath and the gay atmosphere of Camelot.
How can they, the noble people who populate this place, not feel it?
I, Merlin, greatest of all sorcerers who have been and will be, am afraid of what I can but cannot see.
I have decided to write in this volume in order that should I fail in the impossible task God has set before me, another may happen upon this, in my few personal belongings, learning from my mistakes, will perhaps see a way to destroy this poison.
I realize I must regain control of my mind, shaken from this new and terribly painful feeling of fear, as I have a session in Arthur's court in a few hours. I cannot allow the courtiers to see the great Merlin knows real fear after all.
I shall come to terms with this evil, yes, that I shall do. I have defeated time, that is said to be the killer of even the greatest of mortal men, so why should I not be able to accomplish the same feat against a mere mortal manifestation of something that resides beyond the fiery gates of Hell?
But is my enemy mortal?
This most perplexing question I have pondered on while my quill scrawls my thoughts on to the parchment in its smooth, methodical manner. The parchment is very fine, having being brought by merchants from the orient. I believe a courser version of this parchment was called papyrus by the ancient Egyptians, whose writings I do so adore. Ptolemy, what a man, had I been born of another time, his time, there to mentor him...but I stray from this chronicle.
I hear Gawain calling for me at the bottom of the steps leading to my tower room. Court has nearly started and why am I not already there? he calls in his loud but gentle voice. Ah, fair knight, can you not feel the doom that has settled over Camelot like the black mists in foul Morgian's heart?
2
I regret that I had not the time to continue writing after court last night, due to the dire circumstances that kept me there long after the appointed hour.
The first group of petitioners had already gone by when a foreign knight, dressed in full armor and visor down, stepped into the hall. When asked by Arthur that business had he in Castle Camelot, he claimed he an issue to resolve with Sir Gaheris. At that point, Gaheris stepped forth, as a noble knight should, and asked to know what issue was that.
Said the foreign knight, "I have come to this most noble of courts to settle an issue for my Lady, who claims that Sir Gaheris has despoiled her."
This pronouncement sent the court into an uproar, and many good knight's hands, including Gawain's and Lancelot's, to their sword hilts. Some courtiers looked at Linet, who was wed to Sir Gaheris only a few fortnights ago. Her face was ashen, but otherwise her countenance remained smooth.
"Who is your Lady?" demanded Gaheris in a remarkably restrained tone, considering the circumstances.
"She has asked that her name remain silent in this court." replied the foreign knight in an even voice.
"Then," said Gaheris, seeming somewhat relieved, "I may not fight you. I will not draw my sword until I know who speaks such outrageous words against me."
Then the foreign knight drew his sword (in the midst of the court!) and lunged himself at Gaheris, who wore no armor other than his sword, and stopped himself right in front of the gentle knight.
"You have insulted my Lady, once in her one abode, and now in this court, reason enough to kill you here and now!" he spat through his visor, "Prepare to die!"
At this point, when Gaheris drew his sword in self-defense, I stepped in.
"Knights, hold your blows. We are in court. Do you wish to harm some fair damsel by mischance?" At this, Gaheris lowered his sword, but only slightly. I turned to the foreign knight. "Sir, if you were to kill Gaheris when he was unarmed while you yourself were in full armor, forever would you be dishonored in the eyes of men and God alike."
When he still did not lower his sword, I proposed that they should hold off their feud until they could reach the jousting area, and the issue could be settled fairly in the eyes of God and men. The sword of the foreign knight still did not waver.
"Then will you strike me!?" I asked him in rage and frustration, "I am Merlin, and I say for you to stay your sword until proper combat by the laws of chivalry are insured!
"My lady warned me of you," he said slowly, "and she said not to fear you. Yet no man is foolish enough to strike at a sorcerer. Especially you, my lord Merlin. I will fight as you command." As he concluded his words, he sheathed his sword and offered his apologies to the court, though not to Sir Gaheris.
The battle ensued in earnest only a short while later. There was never any real contest. Sir Gaheris brought the foreign knight to his mercy at ease. At that point, the knight gave up, took off his helmet, and begged for the forgiveness of all the court, as his Lady had been Morgian. He declared that he had fallen for her lies and trickery. He then left, clearly ashamed of being tricked by such a woman.
The court was no very surprised that Morgian was the unnamed Lady. She often tries to dissolve the round table with such petty plots.
Ah! Look at me! Here I have written about a petty court issue late into night and not even touched the real problem. All I can say of that is I have not felt the presence nearly as much as yesterday, but that does not mean it is not still lurking in the darkness of night, awaiting its prey.
I will write more on the morrow.
3
Here I am, back at my desk with little to say. The evil has sensed me, and is now taunting me around every corner. Except when I am in here. It cannot get in here for some reason. Maybe one of those spells I did ages ago is actually working.
I am glad it has decided to bother me. It is helping me overcome my fear and turn my mind to other things, such as killing this evil. Perhaps a knife in the throat...but that is too messy.
I like to refrain from using my power whenever possible, but I see no other alternative. I will lay a trap for the fiend, and that will be the end of it. I must go now to make preparations.
The trap is laid. I have but to wait for it to be sprung. Though the purpose of this chronicle is nearly finished, I think I will continue to write. It might be interesting to read it in maybe a hundred years, when I decide to retire.
The trap has been sprung! I can feel it. I must go, but I will return soon enough.
4
Of all the miserable, dishonorable things to do, why did it have to get Guinevere?
I should explain. The trap I set was a simple snare, magical snare. All it was to do was apprehend the perpetrator long enough for me to come and deal with it. Only one could have sprung the trap. I did not realize that it had the cunning to set the trap off and catch another. The fiend waited until the Queen, fair Guinevere, was in the right place, then it set the trap off, paralyzing her.
It was by very good luck that I was the first through that hall after her, had one of the knights come through and found her in that position, frozen as one dead---well---it is best not to think that of that.
I was able to convince her that she had swooned in the hall, for lack of sleep, and she accepted this and allowed me to escort her back to her quarters. She never suspected the evil that had caught her in my trap, and I would rather die before the day I must tell her of the evil that has taken residence in Camelot.
Thank goodness the trap I set was not harmful, for if she had been hurt...if she had been hurt and I was to blame I would have had to end my life for damaging such a beautiful one as hers.
I must now try again to think of a way to destroy this evil, it having shown itself as a more than formidable enemy.
I must never show the foolishness that led me to believe that this task would be an easy one.
5
I have consulted book after book, searching for a way to combat this creature that I cannot see, but I have found very little that provides any help to my task. All that they say is that often these creatures come because a mortal has offended them in some way. I cannot think of any demon I have personally offended of late.
They also say that an enemy who works in the dark side of sorcery might have the power to call a demon to cause harm to another. This is what I think may be the case. But does Morgian have that power? I know she does have power, but I have never seen any demonstration from her on this magnitude. She has never dared to attack me, or Arthur through such dangerous means. I know that if one calls a demon that is too powerful for you to control, that the demon could turn around and take control of you, or anything else it desires, depending on the demon.
I will continue assuming that it is Morgian who has called this evil to Camelot.
Since this is the assumption, I can think of only one way to deal with it: A confrontation with Morgian herself. The idea of the confrontation does not scare me, but I do not like of meeting with her on her own terms, in her own castle.
Maybe I can send one of the knights to deal with her...no, that would not be fair to send a knight against odds such as that. Although all the knights in the court of King Arthur are great warriors, none of them have the protection against her wiles, as was seen with the foreign knight who came a-calling yesterday.
I must think on this more.
6
Too much has been happening of late. Arthur and one of the minor kings have gotten in a dispute over authority. I suppose I saw it coming, but I lost track of time trying to deal with Him. I am quite sure it is a he, not an it, but It is easier to say when one is in a rage. I will make a note to call it Him from now on.
Back to the king.
He is the cousin of Lot, and his lands border Lot's. His name is Othes. Anyway, Othes has been quiet for some time, as he took many grievous wounds during the Succession Wars, but he has now had the time to accumulate a rather large army once more. He never really liked Arthur, though I think he does not like the idea of a High King. Othes is the type who will admit obedience to God only, if even that.
Unfortunately, his kinship to Lot and his sons is tearing the court apart. Gawain, Gaheris, and Gareth will side will Arthur until they draw their last breath. Agravaine and Mordred, however, feel allegiance to their father and uncle is above that to their High King. The other knights have for the most part shown that they will support Arthur, with few exceptions.
Now for the knife that has caused these divisions. King Othes has come to Arthur's court to break ties with the British kingdoms. I must say that Othes is an outright person: he got straight to the point without stalling.
His announcement has rocked Camelot and the twelve kingdoms. I have advised Arthur that he cannot let Othes have what he wishes. Even though he has a kingdom that is hard to protect, being on the very edge of the vague border between the twelve kingdoms and the barbarian lands, if he is allowed to secede without a fight, others may follow and Arthur could left a throne without a kingdom. He agreed.
King Othes has not yet been informed of Arthur's decision. I must be with Arthur when he tells Othes, otherwise, blood might be shed.
Not that I think Othes will withdraw his request peacefully. There will be war, though I will do my best to stall as long as I can. Maybe my presence will keep unnecessary words at bay. With luck, the scale of this war can be kept to a minimum; personal insults would take it beyond what I could control.
My visit to Morgian will have to wait. I do not like the idea of that---whatever---running loose in Camelot, but I have little choice. I do still worry---fear---that He may hurt someone, but I can do little until He shows himself. My place is with Arthur.
7
It has begun.
The war, I mean. King Othes took the answer civilly, if not coldly. He informed Arthur that he regretted that he would be forced into a war with a man he had no real quarrel with. Then he left. He departed from Camelot with his retainers within the hour.
After he had left, Arthur turned to me and said in despair, "Merlin, when will it end?" He looked around him at the swords hanging on the wall. "When will the fighting end? The killing?" He was expecting an answer, but I knew none to give him.
"Arthur..." I said, "I do not know the answer to your questions. I know only that if any sort of peace is to reign Britain in the future, we must fight now."
"Why us? Why me?"
"You were chosen for this task because of your purity, your piousness..."
"What of it, Merlin? Who will care twenty years from now? A hundred years? A thousand? Who will care of all the blood we spilt for a word? Who will sing our tales when our bones are dust? Our swords rust?" He had worked himself into a fury and there was no sense in trying to speak to him at this point. No use trying to explain of all the songs that would be sung of him and his knights, if the legends that would surround the Round Table, all that I had seen that he was working toward.
I walked from his chamber, shaking my head.
"Where are your promises now, seer?" he called after me in a taunting voice, "Where are your words that have always lifted me and mine so when we were so melancholy? Why do you not answer me, mage? Have you lost your power? Has the great Merlin lost his power?" That was pushing my patience just a little too far.
I stopped and walked back to him slowly, watching his face seethe with his rage. I looked him in the eye and said nothing.
Arthur trembled, waiting for the rebuttal he knew should be getting. He was ready, tense, for my indignant outburst to his accusations. But I said nothing.
Sometimes, I have found, you can drive someone quite mad by doing utterly nothing. I refrained from smiling, as I did not want to give him nightmares of a smiling demon, but I got my point across.
"For-forgive me, Merlin." he stuttered at last, "I spoke in haste. I did not mean to sound so..."
"Ungrateful? Disrespectful? Insolent?" I supplied. Arthur shook visibly, and was not ashamed of it. He knelt before me.
"All that I am I owe to you." he said in a tone that was so pitiful that it was ludicrous.
"Oh, get up, Arthur." I told him, giving up on the vehement sorcerer role, "You have already made enough of a fool of yourself for one night. You and I have spent enough time together that you know I would never hold your tongue against you, though sometimes I think it should be cut out."
Arthur smiled like a young child who has just been let off the easy way. He stood up, embraced in a fierce hug, and retired for the night.
I think I will never, never, never again take up the task of raising a king, God allowing. It is just too much of a draining experience.
