“Merlin?” The tomato red boy panted. The old man stopped and turned to the hunched over Arthur. He swished his odd cloaks covering most of his body; they were a blazing sort of blue. Decorated in intricate knots that rolled over one another, forming patterns. Arthur had heard it was a great honor to bear the knots.
“Yes, small one?” Merlin asked, his soft expression giving Arthur a sense of comfort. He never quite knew why Merlin insisted on referring to him as a young one, as Merlin always seemed to be in his youth.
“How… much… longer…” The skinny thing looked as if he would soon pass out.
“Only a bit more. Would you like water?” The fortune teller said, patting the boy’s fluffy blonde hair.
“Yes sir… please.” Merlin dug in his cloak and pulled out a brown waterskin. Arthur hastily snatched it, tipped it back, as the warm water softened his throat, and reordered his body. He pulled it out and cleaned his mouth of spilled water.
“In the king’s name… That feels so much better,” Arthur sighs, and hands the skin back to Merlin. The fellow chuckles heftily, as a huge gust of wind blows by. As they walk, the trees grow more narrow and tall; simultaneously, the paved path they were walking fiddles out.
“You remind me of someone, Arthur.” Merlin cackled, waving his wooden stick around.
“Who?”
“Ah, a good man. Always seeked for the better of others, and was damn terrifying on the battlefield, made the Saxon raiders piss their pants. Was rather persistent on getting what he wanted as well.” This made Arthur smile. His true dream was to become a knight of the Pendragon Order, and drive those nasty Saxons out of the land. Hearing of all the legendary heroes Merlin had met, well… It was fascinating. What a wonderful life Merlin must have lived to have met so many folk in so little time. Especially now that Arthur would graduate his squireship in a year’s time, and be knighted by the queen herself. Arthur fastened the arming blade he kept on him, as it made clanging noises. The shrubbery seemed to grow greener and happier, as the path went up a sort of slope.
“Where are we even going?” Arthur questioned.
“Ah, well, where’s the fun in telling you?” Merlin smirked. Arthur rolled his eyes, but stopped when they came up next to a boulder that completely blocked out the path. It seemed like a flat circle, and the earth had grown around. As well, there was all sorts of weird Welsh writing on it, a language Arthur was familiar with, but could not read for his own life.
“What is this?!” Arthur gasps in shock.
“A tiny shortcut, my friend.” Merlin steps up and bangs his staff into the rock; the ground starts to rumble, throwing Arthur back. At Merlin’s command, they light up and split into twelve pieces, revealing a cylindrical path. Merlin shouts a cheer in Welsh; Arthur thought it meant, ‘good dragon’ or something of that sort. Arthur pushes himself up, brushing dirt off his red squire garb.
“Arthur, what is it I always tell you?”
“You tell me quite a lot, Merlin.” This makes the old man sigh.
“The world is yours. Take it with both hands and reel it in. You want to be the greatest knight to ever live, correct?”
“Indeed!”
“Then you need to get out of that estate Sir Ector has you in! Explore the world, learn about the people. All good knights can learn about chivalry, Arthur. But to be the greatest…You must become.” At this time, his words made no sense; how can one be chivalric? But those words would later come to mark the rise of Arthur.
Arthur stepped over to the pathway, as mystical light glowed from the end.
“Well? What are you waiting for? Go!” Arthur bucked up and dashed down the path. As he ran, light seemed to fill every vessel of his body- it boomed in him like drums, changing and forging himself. He came out on the other side, atop a large grassy cliff. A little ways out lay a mighty town, with wood and cobble homes, stone roads, rivers running about it, and lovely music wafting up to him.
“Well, boy, time for you to live; let us go,” Merlin muttered, walking down the hill, and Arthur ran in pursuit.