~Camelot~
Merlin frowned as he double-checked the potion recipe. According to the recipe, he needed to add the Witch Hazel and stir counterclockwise three time before adding the chamomile. He had made the potion several times before, but the last time he did was when again? He blinked, wondering when the last time he did. He dropped the chamomile leaf into the pot as close to the surface as he dared. He didn’t want to cause the potion to splash. The potion was a time-consuming process and called for rare ingredients that he didn’t want to waste any of it.
The potion was designed to help fight off the curse that haunted each king who took the crown of Camelot. Merlin had discovered the potion while he was researching for a way to break the curse a couple centuries ago and found it in an Ancient Atlantian potion book, stating it helped with the ill effect of the deadly curse. The only reason why Merlin was making the potion was simple. This year was the 10th Anniversary of Uther pulling the Holy Sword, the time limit that the Curse set for every King. So far, it had been the only clue to finding a cure for the curse.
Merlin let out a sigh as he stirred the ingredients into the mixture. The potion would only keep the majority of the curse ill effects at bay until last week. During the last week of the King’s life that was when the curse overcame the potion and would cause the King to be bedridden until his death.
The Potion Master hoped King Uther would not fall ill to the deadly curse. Not least for a year or two. However, recently, he had been recognizing the symptoms of the King shown as part of the curse. He had miscalculated. It wasn’t until the Queen Mother, Queen Clarine, announced a possible party to celebrate the King’s 10th anniversary on the throne. That was when Merlin and his former apprentice, Lady Morgana, realized King Uther has been on the throne for nearly 10 years.
The year before Uther pulled the Holy Sword from its scabbard was chaotic. Uther’s father, King Peter was killed by a highly skilled assassin. Prince Nathan managed to pull the Holy Sword out and became King. However, during the battle Cross Hill, King Nathan was killed by a stray arrow. When Prince Henry pulled the Holy Sword out, Camelot erupted into a civil war, Prince- now - King, Henry has been rumored to be a traitor and proved it when he announced that Camelot was going to be dissolved as a kingdom and be absorbed by the Frank Kingdom. Needless to say, nobody in the court liked it and he quickly disappeared before his body turned up several places in town. The Franks declared Camelot for going back on a treaty agreement. Uther tried to pull the Holy Sword out of its sheath, but he couldn’t. None of the knights were able to either.
Merlin went to the guards of the castle. They couldn’t either. Morgana approached the Lords of the Castle, and the Mage had no luck. Merlin went public about the Chosen Ceremony, leaving out the Secret Curse.
Men traveled far and wide within the Kingdom borders. They failed. Morgana proposed for the women to try. Merlin, while he saw how the various lords, knights, and princes would react, allowed it. None of the women were able to pull the Holy Sword out.
The Frank Army marched into Camelot’s borders. Prince Uther, acting as King for the time being, rallied Camelot’s force to meet King Louis on the battlefield. Merlin and Morgana traveled with the war band, swearing to protect Camelot. However, when the Mercy Army led by King William joined with the Frank Army, Prince Uther called for a retreat until they were safely behind the Castle walls.
Merlin remembered the screams of horror and pain as the two armies marched within the distance of the Outer Walls of Camelot. He remembered how small Camelot became as the court hid inside the castle, the villagers ran from the approaching army, and how his spy network failed to find the Camelot Assassin. Life went on like this for nearly three months as the enemy armies laid siege on Camelot until one day, the Holy Sword allowed Uther to pull it from the rock, in front of Camelot and her enemies. It was the longest six months Merlin ever experienced in his long-lived life.
Merlin shook his head, clearing it. He hoped they never experience another six months without a ruler. A lot of people died during those six months and they had lost territory they never managed to recover, yet. It took the Kingdom another three years after Uther pulled the Holy Sword out to recover the farms and the villages that was destroyed.
Nearly a year ago, Uther had talked about trying to re-gain the territories that Camelot lost, but Merlin and Morgana, at the time, felt uncomfortable with the idea. The older mage argued that they could lose more land to the Franks who felt sore over being pushed out of Camelot.
Merlin turned his attention to the potion. Now, it didn’t matter. King Uther will not survive to see the sesquimillennial celebration. That much was clear from the symptoms. His son and ‘heir’ Prince Arthur IX will. The question remained about the Holy Sword choosing him as the next king. Merlin feared another time of ‘The Kingless Time’ as the local historians called the era, during the six months the Holy Sword denied Uther. Still, the mage hadn’t figured out why.
Merlin still remembered the events, barely, what led to casting the ‘Choosing’ spell on the Holy Sword. The first King of the United Kingdoms of Camelot, Arthur I Pendragon, had ordered it before his death. Arthur’s Queen gave birth to a dark-haired boy a few years prior to Arthur’s death and the boy looked nothing like Arthur. The weeks leading up to Arthur’s death, his Queen confessed that the boy was not Arthur’s, but one of his knights who died on a battlefield and had not clue he had sired a son. Most of the court already knew the Queen’s unfaithfulness, even witnessing the interaction between the Queen and her favorite knight and her reaction when she heard news of his passing.
However, Arthur still took care of his Queen and her son, just like a dutiful husband. He had ordered Merlin to cast a spell on the Holy Sword to prevent his Queen and her son being victims of the Infamous Game of Thrones. Arthur knew, after his death, there would be a long line of men, trying to take his throne. The King could have announced a legitimate heir, but he had numerous nephews, thanks to his father’s harem and plotting to marry off Arthur’s many half-sisters, and half-brothers and their sons.
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Merlin knew Arthur’s oldest half-brother had tried to take the Throne from Arthur, shortly after Uther I’s death, but failed when Arthur proved to be the better swordsman and sentenced his older half-brother to spend the rest of his days in the dungeons.
Arthur never chose a legitimate heir. He didn’t think he could chose anyone himself to be his heir. As the result, Merlin had cast the ‘Choosing’ spell, over 1000 years ago. It amused him to no end that the Ruling Family thought they had a claim to the throne, instead of King after King after King had been chosen by the Holy Sword. They had the qualities that Arthur had thought a King should have.
He paused in his potion making, thinking. He might have to check the spell’s status. He knew there was a chance that the spell could be wearing off, given the last four to five Kings. Merlin thought, after seeing what they were doing with the non-humans, there couldn’t be what Arthur I had wanted for his kingdom. The last time he had checked on the spell was when the United Kingdom of Camelot was split up, thanks to a King who wanted to please his sons, but it was still strong and hummed with power.
A knock echoed through his workshop. Merlin jerked his head up as he twitched his hands. He had wanted to work in peace, but he knew he could be needed. He hoped he wasn’t. He needed to get through this portion of the brewing process before he could leave. It was the most important part of making the potion.
“Come in,” he called out, returning to the recipe and reading the next step in a low tone, “Simmer for the next three hours,” he heard the door open, the rustling of fabric along the ground, the door shutting, and silence. He went on, reading, “then add two leaves of campion flower and simmer again for 1 hour.”
Merlin muttered a soft curse. He had forgotten how time consuming making this potion was. He turned down the flame, manually, using a dial on the side of the table. He didn’t want to use magic around this potion.
“I heard that, Master,” a female voice ran out in a slight, scolding tone, “You know better than to use such language in front of a lady.”
Merlin’s lips twitched into a smirk as he replied, not looking up from the table, “What lady are you talking about?” He looked up to see his former student, “All I see is the most beautiful goddess that ever walked this Earth,” He walked around the table, heading to the ‘goddess’, “Now, what can this most unworthy soul do to please your goddess-ship?”
The woman had her dark as night hair flowing over her shoulders and only pinned the front and sides up to keep it from falling into her pale face. Her blue eyes twinkled in amusement as Merlin reached out and grabbed her hand before placing a kiss on her knuckles. The simple olive-green dress she wore framed her curves and flared out at her hips. She usually wore her black robe, signaling her station within the Court of Camelot, but also her mastery of Magic. He remembered fondly of the time she wore the white robe of a beginner mage, back when her brother was alive, along with their father, centuries ago.
“Oh, Merlin,” she purred, “There are many things you can do to please your goddess.”
“Oh, really,” Merlin dropped the woman’s hand and slipped an arm around her waist, pulling her close to him, “Please, name one, my sweet Morgana.”
“Stop acting like a womanizer,” Morgana slapped his shoulder. The slap didn’t hurt, but it made Merlin snort in amusement, “You already have people thinking we are involved,” Morgana protested, pouting.
“Oh! Then it’s all going to according to plan,” Merlin grinned, brightly, causing Morgana to roll her eyes at him, “But I don’t think that is why you have come to me, my dear, to complain about the court’s fascination about our long relationship.”
“It’s Uther,” Morgana started, “He had summoned us,” Her face lost all its playfulness, “I think it is nearly time.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing,” Merlin said, glancing at the table, “I already started working on the potion to help with the side-effects.” He turned his attention back to Morgana, “I started it, recently. It won’t be ready for another week or two.”
Morgana nodded, replying, “I figure it as much, Merl.” She saw something out of the corner of her eye. It was one of the candles lighting the room. The flame flickered in a dancing motion, twisting. The color parted. Morgana slowly turned her head, and a wave of heat washed over her.
The flame twisted around forming a female figure. To Morgana’s amazement, the orange and red parts of the flame formed a mane waving behind the figure as the yellow part formed the body. The female figure turned her head to reveal a pair of sad green eyes. In the center of her forehead was a design that Morgana could not make out. However, the figure turned fully to her, revealing a heart shaped hole in her chest with fire cracks. A woman with a broken heart? Morgana couldn’t help wondering what that meant. She tried to peer closer, but she blinked. The figure disappeared as the candle flame flickered.
Morgana snapped back to the present. She glanced around. She was in Merlin’s study. She squeezed her eyes shut then opened them wide. Why was she in Merlin’s study? The answer excluded her, just like it always did when she had questions after True Vision. She knew the answer. She knew it. There was a fog on her mind. It was a side effect of her True Visions. She took a deep breath. She smelt the potion brewing on the desk. The fog slowly cleared. It was not long before she remembered the reason why she stood in her former master’s study. The king summoned them to the Seasonal Throne Room.
Merlin waited until Morgana turned to him before he asked, “What did you see?”
He knew his former student was a true seer, just like her mother before her. Morgana could see parts of the future. Before she had started her training as a mage, her visions had nearly driven her insane. He had helped her build mental walls to keep her sane and keep most of the visions back. They learned that her most accurate visions were helped by an opened fire.
“A woman with a broken heart,” Morgana replied. Her eyes met his. “Maybe it was Queen Kalliope?”
“Possible,” Merlin mused, “Was there anything else you noticed about this woman in the fire?”
“Green eyes,” Morgana thought back to the image, “Sad green eyes.”
“Well,” Merlin frowned. None of the Queens of the Ruling Family had green eyes. “That rules out any of the Queens.”
Morgana nodded, absentmindedly and continued, “I saw there was a symbol on her forehead, but I couldn’t tell what is was.”
“We have time to figure it out,” Merlin said, shrugged, “This woman could be related to nothing.”
“Or she could be someone important,” Morgana argued, giving the other mage a level stare.
“Either way, we will figure it out if she does show up,” The mage said, “We have already caused the King to wait on us, long enough.”
“Oh, boy,” Morgana looked amused, “He’s going to be cross with us.”
Merlin allowed a smirk to cross his lower face and asked, sarcastically, “What he is going to do? Force us to get married? Bind our magic?”
“Throw you in the dungeon,” Morgana teased, “And put you in the stocks?” She opened the door and walked out into the midday sunshine.
“HEY!” Merlin squawked. He couldn’t believe she had remember that event from her childhood. He didn’t remember what happened to land him in the dungeons then the stocks. “That was one time!” He walked after the she-mage.
“I thought it was twice,” Morgana tossed over her shoulder with a smirk.
Merlin stared after her before he shook his head. That woman was something else, still after 1500 years.