Selective Blindness

"Two kinds of blindness are easily combined so that those who do not see really appear to see what is not."

Tertullian

Chapter One

The book was plain brown worn leather with a tie string to hold it closed. Arthur found it in a stack of books that Merlin had brought from the archive for their research into the five kingdoms. They were preparing the peace talks they were going to hold, or rather hoped to hold in the next several months.

This book stood out, from its fellows because it was smaller, about a hand's width across, and it wasn't one of those fancy gilded histories that Geoffrey liked to run his fingers over with authority and reverence. This was a handwritten journal, a first hand account of someone from Camelot's past. It might prove invaluable in finding common ground with the other noble families, the only problem was there was no book plate on the inside cover and the author chose not to date or sign his words. He turned to the first page and started reading:

"I'm not sure who might read this, but my mother told me to take this book to practice my penmanship, and to record all my adventures. Adventures, I'd just as soon have a quiet life. My mother is afraid for me, I know that's why she's sending me away, she found out someone knew about me and next thing I know she's writing her friend to see if he'll take me in. I know she wants me safe, but I just feel like a piece of luggage, or worse an untamed horse that can't be kept in the stable with the other horses.

Sometimes I wonder if I've been cursed, to be like this is to be feared and I wish that I didn't have to hide the best part of who I am to fit in. I'll get to the city tomorrow morning. I should get some sleep."

The writer sounds like a child or a young man, thought Arthur, he wondered why he was sent away and where was he sent? Was he going to Camelot or was he being sent away from it?

Arthur turned to the next entry.

"It occurs to me that this city isn't friendly my kind so I won't reveal any information that might identify me here should anyone find this book they will likely think I'm a crazy person."

Arthur frowned at this, and wondered of what kind he was, perhaps a Celt or a Druid, their kind weren't well liked within the city limits, though Arthur was trying to change that. He continued to read.

"I've only been here two days and already I've witnessed what they do to my kind; I've pissed off the noblemen's son, and exposed my secret by accident, not necessarily in that order. Let me explain.

"When I walked into the courtyard on my first day here, they were executing a man for using magic, they beheaded him and the Noble calls it a time of celebration. I felt ill, and worse when the poor man's mother came out of the crowd crying in grief for her son. She's got power; I could feel it when she cast her disappearing spell. I went to find my new Guardian feeling that I might be better off running for the hills than living in this place that would celebrate such carnage.

I saved my Guardian when he fell off his upper tier it was completely on instinct. So he now knows I have magic, and warned me against doing it. He seemed surprised I didn't know any spells."

Arthur dropped the book, this was a sorcerer's diary, and a powerful one, if he could do magic without casting spells. He felt strangely guilty reading it now, like just knowing that a sorcerer had done magic was wrong, but he had to know what happened next.

"On the bright side I have my own room and a real bed, okay it's a straw cot, but it's a damn sight better than sleeping on the floor at home."

Definitely not from a noble family, thought Arthur.

"I didn't sleep well, too much on my mind I guess, I kept feeling this presence and a voice kept calling to me.

So yesterday morning I went out and G wants me to run errands, he provoked another magical save from me, he knocked over a bucket I stopped it from falling. He's afraid for me I can tell.

'Why wouldn't this guardian just stop him from using magic?' Arthur thought frowning. He turned back to the page.

"So I went out and, some git was abusing this poor kid, using him for target practice, I stepped in, but then I couldn't really use my magic and as it turns out the git is son and heir to the magic hating Noble, fan-bloody-tastic. I'm going to call him A for Ass, because he is a big one."

Arthur snorted in amusement.

"So, I got tossed in the dungeons overnight then G pulled some strings, so I only had to spend the rest of the day in the stocks, thanks for that G. When I was in the cell though I felt that presence again, and heard it calling to me, I think it's underneath the palace.

I met a girl while I was getting pelted with vegetables in the stocks; she seems nice. I'll call her L because even though she's a maid she's still a lady. She said standing up to A was very brave. It wasn't really; it was stupid, I could have taken his head off without even touching him, but I don't want to kill anyone, and if I even threw a straw at him with magic they'd be taking my head off before I could blink. Am going to steer clear of the Noble prat."

Arthur frowned at the last phrase, a thought tickled his brain, but refused to come to the forefront.

"Arthur!"

Arthur jumped and looked up, Merlin was grinning at him.

"Good book?" asked Merlin.

"It's a diary," said Arthur marking his page for later, "it's nothing."

"Are you ready?" asked Merlin.

"Ready for what?" asked Arthur.

Merlin rolled his eyes, "You said you wanted to go hunting, take a break from all the research." He gestured to the books covering Arthur's desk. "I've got everything ready except you, but hey if you don't want to go that's fine I'll just go tell the stable hands to take the horses back."

"No, no," said Arthur standing up, "A hunt sounds good."

"To you maybe," Merlin muttered pulling clothes out of Arthur's wardrobe.

Arthur grinned at him, "You still hate it after all these years?" he asked.

"I'll hunt for food, Arthur," said Merlin, "but killing something for fun was never my idea of a good time. I'll wait for you downstairs," he shrugged and left.

Arthur thought Merlin looked exhausted, and when he thought more he realized how busy the last few months had been, surviving the last attack, rebuilding the city, getting the fields ready to plant before winter, not to mention Arthur's determination to push on with the peace talks.

Merlin had been by his side every second of the day and helping everyone. It seemed, every time Arthur turned around Merlin was carrying water for an old lady in the square, or patching up an injury at one of the repair sites, or making faces and entertaining the children while their parents worked at the reconstruction. That wasn't even mentioning all the stuff he did for Arthur, including getting ready for this hunt, an activity he loathed, but refused to sit out on. Arthur liked to joke about how useless Merlin was as a servant, but it wasn't true anymore, he was a good servant and so much more, Merlin was his friend, his advisor, and for all intents he was the brother that Arthur never had.

Arthur was still thinking about that when they rode into the forest together.

"I didn't steer clear, he provoked me, the noble ass, I was able to use my powers to keep my distance without anyone noticing, and G stepped in before it got too far, but damn, I really need to rethink being here if all I'm going to get is beaten up and lectured on the dangers of magic. I can't not do magic, it's a part of me, I'm nothing if I can't do magic, I really am just the idiot that everyone sees when they look at me. I'll tell G tomorrow, I can't stay there's no reason for me to risk dying simply for having been born."

Arthur frowned reading those words, he'd always thought that magic was a choice, that children with magic were taught by their parents and adults learned it from books. If this writer was to be believed he was born with magic and didn't have a choice. For the first time, Arthur wondered how many innocent people his father had executed simply for being born.

Arthur looked across the campfire at Merlin sleeping soundly in his bedroll it had been a good day, they'd hunted some small game and cooked most of it over the campfire. Okay, so Merlin cooked, but Arthur had stopped hunting when they had enough for the night and the morning, which seemed to make him happy and they'd both eaten their fill. Arthur had watched as Merlin slowly relaxed and unwound himself from the stress of the last few months, and he smiled when he finally dropped down and off to sleep, with a softly yawned goodnight.

He didn't know how the journal had gotten packed with his things, but Arthur was glad of the distraction though the day had been good exercise he was still full of nervous energy, so when he found the book he was grateful for the distraction it created.

"I heard the voice again tonight, it was louder and this time, I followed it. There is a magical creature, chained up in the caverns beneath the palace. G told me about it, but I never expected to see it, let alone have it speak to me! He said I have a great destiny that having these powers has purpose. I was kind of happy that he would say that, despite being a large scary monster, he was really well spoken. Then he told me something I did not want to hear, he said that my destiny was to help A be a good leader. A the noble ass who tortures his own servant for fun, who picks fights with people who are smaller and to his mind weaker than him. This is the spoiled brat that I'm supposed to help be Leader, he's already going to be Noble, if I start throwing magic around here, the only thing I'll be is dead."

Arthur had begun to suspect the journal was a work of fiction, seriously though what kind of city kept a magical creature in the dungeons? Still it was a good story, even if the writer was trying to make it sound like the sorcerer was a good guy.

"So I guess I'm not leaving, more fool me. G wanted my help with his deliveries today so I did that, I almost saw the Noble's ward in her all together that was embarrassing thankfully L came and the lady, M, was none the wiser. Apparently she suffers from nightmares. I know what that's like every time a group of soldiers came through the village looking for young boys to recruit to C's army, I had nightmares of being found and dragged off. Me and my friend both were terrified. C didn't care about his men; he sent them into battle like cattle to the slaughter. I didn't want to be taken away from my mother, and thrown into a sword ring. I've never even touched a sword, how could I go into battle with soldiers and watch them die knowing I could fell everyone around with just a scream?

Arthur was startled by this revelation, he thought that all sorcerers wanted to kill, that was why they studied magic to begin with.

I remember the first time that happened, I was alone in the woods and a wolf had found me, I was only seven or eight summers old. I climbed a tree, but the wolf was waiting me out, I screamed for my mother, I screamed in terror as the creature nipped at my heels and my power punched out of me with the scream, the wolf was knocked back against another tree and any wildlife in a three stride area just dropped around me. I was so afraid at what I had done that I stayed in the tree for hours until my mother found me, and took me home.

I didn't speak for a month, because I thought any sound could cause that terrible power to come out of me, and I never wanted to hurt anyone. I had a nightmare about hurting her and the others in my village, I tried to run away, but she followed me, I told her in the smallest whisper what had happened. When I realized how badly I could hurt someone if I lost control, I felt like a monster.

Arthur sat for a long time considering this, how must it feel to be a child and know such power. How terrifying to know that just your voice not even a spell could do so much damage. This sorcerer if he existed must have been a strong one, to have that sort of power at such a young age and to know that no matter what you do you'll always been the one who's different, who could do something if only you knew what it was.

As Crown Prince Arthur knew that feeling all too well, he knew that it wasn't enough to have power, you had to know how to use it and what for, otherwise the power controlled you made you irresponsible and careless. He'd always had the power of his station, it just took him a while to learn the right things to do with it. One thing he'd never been was afraid of it, his father had taught him to respect the power that came with his position and the responsibility that came with it. The second part he was slow to understand, but the first, well he'd always been proud of his position as prince, but that was a position he was born with, his standing as Camelot's greatest warrior was hard won, so he treasured it more closely than his birthright.

The witch did something similar except she used a song, she crashed the feast and tried to sing everyone into an enchanted sleep; so she could avenge her son. He was the boy they beheaded the day I arrived. I could feel the magic coming at me in waves so I covered my ears. I made something fall on her, it broke the sleeping spell and her disguise and then she still tried to attack A. I slowed time and push him out of the way, I half expected the Noble to call for the guards when they realized the distance I had covered, but they must still have been addled because of the enchantment. The Noble actually thanked me, and get this; he's made me a servant in the noble's palace. I saved A's life and now I get to be his new punching bag, if what he was doing to his other servant is any indication of what to expect. I don't know how that's a fair reward, but it's something to do. G now agrees with the creature that my magic is meant to save A; I just hope he's worth it.

G gave me a spell book, real magic that can be controlled with words and thoughts. I've always wanted to know if I could really control what I can do and use it for good, instead of suppressing it, maybe I will stick around for a while.

Arthur closed the book and lay down to sleep. The sorcerer had saved a life, with magic. Not only that he'd saved a man he barely knew and didn't really like that much. Sorcerers weren't selfless, at least not in his experience, they always had an angle to play. This one though had no reason to lie, it was his personal journal after all. He ruminated again on who this sorcerer was it had to be a long time ago, the book wasn't new looking, and the author used a cheap ink that had faded over time. The person was clearly important since his journal had been collected by the archive, perhaps upon his death. Arthur flipped to the end, the book was filled cover to cover, so it may not even contain the fate of the sorcerer. Still he was interested perhaps reading more would give him some more clues. He yawned loudly, but that would have to wait for tomorrow, he thought as he drifted off to sleep.

A/N: So you guys want some more? :D

Later

Cynic