Merlin was quietly impressed by the range of techniques this body had at its command.
In fact, after being stuck in Morgan's mind, it was rather refreshing to be connected to the spirit of someone who had clearly put a lot of time and even greater effort into building up their cultivation. Considering that most of this groundwork must have been undertaken when Merlin had been hoovering up the majority of the available Qi, this was no small feat for the Saxon to have achieved.
The self-discipline such a thing would have achieved . . . well, it was rather staggering.
Nodding appreciatively, Merlin's respect for Melehen ratcheted up quite a few notches. Entirely through his own diligent efforts, this man had easily surpassed the level of a Harry. Why, he was probably only a decade or two from crossing the threshold into Hermione . . .
At that thought, Merlin's nose - it was so good to have one of those again - wrinkled in distaste. When had he started to entertain such silliness? Cultivating was a serious process, not something that should be reduced to silly, simplified labels. He needed to get back to remembering that.
He would need to impress that on Morgan when he got her back.
Continuing his tour of the Saxon wizard's inner spiritual landscape, his initial appreciation increased. Visualising Qi as sand and then being able to command it to move was an almost masochistic endeavour. Morgan had been largely on the right track in choosing to view her Qi as paint. It was not as sensible as, say, conceptualising the whole process as water, but at least Morgan had made life relatively easy for herself by visualising a moveable liquid.
But sand? This wizard was hardcore. With that sort of willpower, imagine what he could have achieved with Merlin as his mentor!
Of course, there were innumerable improvements that a cultivator of his vast skill and millennia of experience could make to these foundations - he quietly redirected and refocused the flow of Saxon's channels to improve their long-term efficiency - but all in all, he was pretty satisfied with his new 'home'. He finally appeared to be in the body of an entirely satisfactory cultivator.
Why, if he had stumbled across this Melehan character a little earlier in things, he would not have needed to bother with Morgan at all . . .
Well, now.
Wasn't that an interesting thought?
"Archers!" Arthur shouted, suddenly ducking down behind the stone abutment of the bridge. Swearing, Bors barely hit the ground in time to avoid a flurry of arrows that would have put somewhat of a dent in his day.
The howls of humans committing to their role as wolves filled the woods as the two Britons took up defensive positions. "I've heard this song before," Bors said, spitting out a mouthful of dirt, "it didn't work out too well for us that time either."
"Forgive me if my memory of that confrontation is a little indistinct. I was a bit busy being burned alive. Fuck!" Arthur raised a hand to his forehead, which came away bloody. Some bright spark had found a sling and was adding a volley of stones to the wider bombardment. "We're not going to be able to hang around here. Let's get ourselves some distance and have another look."
Bors shook his head. "We can't. The Saxon said Guinevere is still somewhere over that side."
Arthur turned to glare at Melehan, whose eyes seemed oddly unfocused as if he was deep in contemplative thought. Then he took another look because, apparently, the man had eyes again.
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That was some quick healing.
In fact, considering the state they had found him in, the Saxon wizard looked pretty much to have pulled himself back into one piece."What's the story? Did you truly see my wife over that side of the river?"
The wizard smiled - but, in some indefinable way, the grin did not quite reach his eyes - "I did indeed, my dear. I mean, my lord. She was entirely well and gave a good accounting of herself. With a Saxon dead at her feet, she retreated over yonder to avoid further confrontation." He raised an arm and pointed haphazardly in any number of directions on the other side of the bridge. "I would anticipate, from what I saw, she will be very difficult for them to capture."
Bors grabbed hold of Melehan's tunic and pulled him in close. "And Morgan? What about her? How are we going to get her back? You said a great power stole her!"
Before answering, Merlin took a quick glance at Melehan's spirit. The Saxon had not moved from his previous position on the shore and seemed to be humming quietly to himself. All things considered - and even Merlin could sense he was probably reaching a little here - the man appeared quite content with his current lot.
In many ways, the wrong thing to do would be to disturb him, wouldn't it? After everything the poor man had been through, he deserved a break to gather his thoughts. Didn't he? Indeed, looking at this broken shell of a man, he was clearly in no shape to help Arthur and Bors right now. It would be cruel to put him in the position of needing to be an active player in the drama when what he really needed was a good rest.
In fact - now he thought about it properly - it went much further than that. Merlin would actually be in dereliction of his duty to the realm if he did not take the opportunity to step up and fill the void in the absence of the last remaining of Britain's mages.
That was a sound order of business. Once Arthur had Guinevere back, Merlin had made sure the Saxons were properly on the run, and he'd caught up on his correspondence, he'd turn this body back over to Melehan.
First chance he got.
Then, with all that settled, he'd look to track down Morgan and get back on with training her up to support Arthur's rise to power.
Absolutely.
No flaws in that plan at all.
His teeth cracked together as Bors shook him rather more roughly than was strictly necessary. "I asked you a question, wizard!"
Merlin pulsed out a small blast of lightning - nothing lethal, of course. He'd long ago learned that it was polite to give a warning first - and dropped to the floor when a shocked, in more ways than one, Bors let him go.
"Could you please remember that wizard is my title rather than my name, Sir Bors? It would be best if you addressed me as Mer . . . Melehan. I will also answer to M. Or, if you wish to be more informal, I do quite like being referred to as the Big M." He felt a little spike of residual sorrow at that, but quickly squashed it down. He'd be bringing her back as soon as everything else was under control. Then everything would go back to normal.
And not a minute sooner. No. That wasn't right. He meant 'later'.
Not a moment later.
However, first, the immediate issue. Merlin activated the strongest shield technique Melehan had learned.
"Now," Merlin continued, "I am afraid that I have no idea what has taken Morgan. There was a breach to the walls of reality, and someone reached through and pulled her to their side of that rip. The wound in space and time remains, so, given time, it should not be too difficult to trace her destination. Although, dealing with a cultivator strong enough to make that technique work will be extremely challenging and will need careful planning. However, to be able to save her, we need to get out of this little predicament alive first. I would also suggest that the Princess Guinevere, whilst no doubt spunkfilled, is probably more in need of our help right now than a reasonably powerful cultivator. . ."
He paused, aware that Bors and Arthur were staring at him. "What?"
Bors cleared his throat. "Spunky. I think you meant 'spunky."
"Why, what did I say?"
"Something quite different." Arthur could not help but flinch as another arrow pinged off the shield. "Okay, wizard . . . I mean, Melehan. We achieve our own safety first, then locate and secure Guinevere. Once those two things are achieved, we will discuss how best to help Morgan."
Bors growled at that but did not offer any further comments.
Arthur turned to face the wizard, who seemed an awful lot more confident in himself than the man the prince remembered. Perhaps he was the sort who grew into a crisis? "It seems as if we are in your hands. So, what's the plan?"
Merlin moved Melehan's lips into a smile.
He really had missed this.