Sometimes, when I stroll through the fields of tall grass and breathe in the thick air flowing from the morning sun rise, I begin to think. I think about my friends, my family, my love. I think about my knights and my comrades. Today, though, I think about the lies. My father, everything I had known, is all a lie. The fraud story of my mother's death that had haunted my childhood is a lie. The stories behind each layer of crimson blood spread from the innocent sorcerers is a lie. I cannot undo the pain that he has brought upon this dreadful land, but I will avenge them, if it's the last thing I do.
The sun begins to lower as I search for some kind of shelter that will support me for the night. I would light a fire, but I can't risk the knights of Camelot to find me. No doubt my father, that tyrant, has already sent out several search parties to find his only son and aire to the throne. I'm edging past the border of Camelot into Cenred's kingdom, towards a small village called Ealdor. I can only hope what I seek is there.
I almost consider settling down for the night when the glimpse of familiar houses and huts come into few. I nearly break into a sprint, glad that my unforgiving journey is coming to an end. While I have never believed in any type of god or holy spirit, I find myself praying that he'll be here, praying that my long travel was not for nothing.
I knock, quite profusely, on the wooden door of the house I somehow find myself in front of. I'm sure the loud pounding could be considered annoying, but I can't seem to find it in myself to care. The door opens at last, revealing an older woman I had come to know as Hunith, a kind, caring woman. The basket locked in her arm drops onto the ground upon her seeing me, spilling the loose wheat rolls. Her face contorting into one of fear, eyes going wide.
I reach down, carefully putting the vittles back into the basket, handing it to her gently. She takes it hesitantly, eyebrows scrunching together in fright and confusion. "My- My lord, w-what brings you here?" Hunith forces out, scared, not for herself, but for her only son. No doubt she thinks I am here to arrest him for sorcerer and treason against the throne.
"Hunith, I'm not going to hurt anyone. I need your help, or rather, I need your son's help."
The woman's eyes go wide again. "H-He isn't here." It's an obvious lie, but I'm going to point that out.
"I have not come to arrest him. Look, no sword." I raise my hands above my head to show off my lack of weaponry and protection. "No armour, nothing. I came to make peace and for his help."
Hunith hesitates before letting me pass into her home. I can see her watching me warily out of the corner of my eye, but it's only natural, I suppose. A young, raven haired boy walks in through the back door, remaining oddly quietly. He has yet to notice me leaning against the far wall, so I take the time to study my ex-manservant. His hair is slightly shorter with a messy, almost spiked texture to it. He had definitely grown in the last two years. The childish innocence was gone, replaced with maturity and some level of 'darkness'. A long scar travels across his forehead, mostly covered by hair.
I cough into my hand, alerting him of my presence. He turns quickly, much quicker than I would of thought possible for someone as clumsy as himself. The boy's eyes go wide with fear in seeing me. He reaches into his pocket, pulling out what looked like a small dagger. He points it at me threateningly from across the room, waving it in front of him, as if pretending he did in fact have training when it was obvious that he had not. Even if he did, I know he would never use it against me. He's much to loyal for that.
"Put the knife down Merlin, you look ridiculous." I walk over to him, ripping the sharp utensil from him hand. "You could cut yourself with this." I set it down on the table a few feet away, turning to look at the long lost boy.
"H-How'd you get in here?" Merlin stutters.
"I asked nicely. You should try it sometime." Pulling out one of the wooden chairs circling said table, I sit down, facing the startled sorcerer. "Oh calm down Merlin, I'm not here to kill you. Not like I could even if I wanted to. You could just mumble some words and kick my ass all the way back to Camelot, couldn't you?"
Merlin shrugs slightly, never taking his eyes off of me. "Why are you here though, if you're not here to kill me?"
I sigh. "Perhaps we should sit down. There is quite a lot we need to talk about."