Dawn of the Merlin- The Final Quest

by Rory D Nelson

  Two circular balconies emblazoned in marble sheen protrude out, giving an eagle’s eye view of the festivities on the floor. The top balcony is reserved for him. Two of his elite Proteriat stand sentry to the doors. His advisor, Lucian, waits with him.

  Menelaeus looks on the proceedings with a deep-seated ambivalence. At last, the Merlin has been chosen. It is a new era, an era of peace, but trouble lurks in the shadows, bullying peace at every turn. Lucian, his most trusted confidant and advisor, seems to quell the approaching turmoil that threatens to boil over into all out calamity. Yet, dark forces wait and conspire, threatening iterations of a darker nature.

  The man is righteous, compassionate and seems to be omniscient, telepathic, much like Perronius himself. His loyalty is unquestionable and yet he knows really nothing of him. Where he came from, his family history, his work history, nothing that would negate or support his role as the second highest post in New Camelot. Something beneath his benevolent spirit lies a volcanic maelstrom, threatening to spill over at any moment, as if his very aura is restless and foreboding.

  Underneath his façade of righteousness lies a spirit of unrest. It vexes Menelaeus but there is little he can do. The man is as taciturn as Perronius. A cattle prod would do little more than induce a jibber in him.

  Menelaeus turns from these thoughts and smiles at his advisor. Lucian smiles back. “Truly a day of celebration, my Lord. Did I not tell you Perronius would come through?”

  “That you did,” says Menelaeus humbly. “A man for the impossible tasks. A legend. An inspiration.”

  “It will serve Gilleon well,” says Lucian. “Gilleon needs the Merlin now more than ever. It is good timing.”

  “It was good timing I found you, old friend. This is as much your celebration as it Gilleon’s.”

  “It is my country, now and forever. You ken?”

  Menelaeus nods. “It is, Lucian and it is your family’s as well. Would have liked to have had them here. Any reason you would not think to bring them? This is as much their celebration as it yours.”

  Lucian sighs. “The journey is a long, arduous one, my Lord.”

  "My offer still stands. You can move closer. They will be safe here, rest assured.”

  Lucian bows. “My, Lord, I do not doubt you would treat them as your own family and love them as such.”

  “Of course, I would.”

  “But with all due respect, I have seen too many souls corrupted when living in the midst of Court politics. I would not have my family tainted so.”

  “I would see to them myself.”

  Lucian bows. “But my Lord, I must decline.”

  Menelaeus sighs and accepts it with a wave of his hand. “I cry pardon for pressing, Lucian. Your family is yours to do with as you wish.”

  “Until they are mine no longer. Such are the ways of a cruel God.” He says despondently as he looks far off in the distance, as if he is looking off into another realm. For a split second, his normally blue eyes register a deep, preternatural orange, as if his human layer were peeled back for a moment, hinting at the creature beneath.

  The air around seems to chill, and a deep chill runs up his spine. Menelaeus finds it nearly impossible to swallow. With considerable force, he pushes his misgivings away.

  “There is another matter, my Lord.” That calm, unwavering, mellifluous voice brings him back from a split-second nightmare. But was it?

  “What is it Lucian?”

  Lucian casts his eyes towards the ground and sighs. “I will complete my duties for this ceremony, my Lord. I will swear in the Merlin, feast and celebrate with you, help you to usher in this new era of peace and prosperity with the Merlin at your side.”

  “And then?” asks Menelaeus.

  “Then I will take my leave.”

  “For holiday? Of course.” Lucian shakes his head.

  “Sabbatical for an undetermined length of time?” Lucian shakes his head.

  Menelaeus sighs heavily. “Let’s just call it a sabbatical for an undetermined length of time. If I should need your services in the interim for some emergency, then-”

  “I will heed your call, my Lord, set watch and warrant it.” Lucian hesitates. “Provided it is in my power to heed it. You ken?”

  Menelaeus nods his head and manages the slightest of smiles, which quickly runs away from his face. He pats Lucian on the back, a disheartened glean in his eyes. “It will suffice, old friend.”

  “It will have to,” says Lucian.

  A moment of uncomfortable silence ensues between the two. It is thankfully cut short when Queen Tyrene appears with Perronius’ equally ravishing wife, Chelsea. Perronius is close behind and looking handsome in a gold pantalones, starched so much they emit a sharp scuffling sound every time he walks. His emblazoned white tuxedo shirt is also just as crisp and tight-fitting, hinting at the substantial musculature beneath.

  They wave at Menelaeus, smile and walk over. Menelaeus embraces Perronius in their way, with forearms outstretched giving a partial hug. Menelaeus takes Chelsea’s hand in his and kisses it. She bows to him. “You look as beautiful as ever, Chelsea. Perronius is indeed a blessed man.”

  “We are all blessed,” she says.

  She turns to Lucian and bows to him. He takes hold of her hand and kisses it as well. “Charmed, my Lady,” he says.

  “Indebted to you, advisor,” she says. “Did you bring your family?” she asks.

  He shakes his head and smiles. “The recent floods have kept us away. They make for treacherous travel.”

  “I’m sure they do. Perhaps I will meet them another time.” She says graciously.

  He bows. “I would welcome it, my Lady.” Menelaeus gives him an admonishing glance for a split second.

  Lucian looks at Perronius curiously. “Lucian, I don’t believe you have had the pleasure, nor you Perronius. “This is my trusted advisor, Lucian. Lucian this is Perronius, my champion knight and soon to be Merlin, once he is properly sworn in.” The two shake hands vigorously and inwardly assess the other from the handshake. Perronius senses great strength from that handshake, abnormal strength, in-human strength and it vexes him. His aura is also disconcerting: a deep purple, tinged with a grey and on the outer edges a greenish black hue, the color associated with rebellion.

  Sensing Perronius discomfort, Menelaeus pulls out his watch and looks at the time. “It’s time for the ceremony to begin. Let’s get started. You ken?”

  The group nods vigorously. Chelsea beams at Perronius, giving him a finicky appraisal. She straightens up his silk bowtie with thinly restrained compulsion. She smiles at him. “I’m proud of you, Perronius. This is your day.” She beams.

  “The day God has given me for the betterment of Gilleon. It affects us all.”

  She kisses him sweetly on the mouth. “That it does, my love.”

  Chapter 17: Behold the Merlin

  The ceremony proceeds much like a wedding, with a cavalcade of knights being ushered in much like groomsman. They wear matching outfits: tight fitting gold pantalones, stark white shirts and either a black bow tie or gold emblazoned ascot. The pendant, a timber wolf, is symbolic of their pack mentality. Justinian, Domithicus, Germanicus, Ithicus, Syrus, Savelle, Atticus, Cotteroy and Jamison escort equally mesmerizing ladies, who wear tight fitting sequined dresses of dark red, topaz and bluish green. They walk down the left side of the aisle in perfect sequence, an exact five yards behind one another.

  On the other side of the aisle walk the knights of the northern territories: Trey, Kel, Filomedes, Kurt, Trevian, Seymour, Anthol-Ricter, Harper, Tristan and Vaxle Monty, the Phillistine.

  Standing in the spot of the would-be priest is King Menelaeus, adorned in a purple cape and suit, a burgundy bow tie topping it off.

  An instrumental song is sung in perfect harmony by a full orchestra, violinistas, percussion instruments and a harpsichord. When the cavalcade ends, and the participants are aligned horizontally along the raised platform, they face the enormous crowd. Menelae
us raises his hand to the conductor, who gives the signal for the song to end.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Knights of the Round Table, today is a momentous event. Is it not?”

  The crowd roars in loud cheer. Menelaeus puts up his hands and smiles. “Today, is the day that we give thanks to God on high, who has blessed us with the first Merlin in over two hundred years.” The crowd once again roars in approval. Menelaeus quiets them with a gesture.

  “Today, we usher in a new era of peace and prosperity and the beacon of that peace. He is a soothsayer, the lead knight, and the symbol of hope throughout a land that has seen its share of tumult and upheaval. I bring you the Merlin!” The crowd thunders in applause.

  Perronius approaches the top pulpit and stands before Menelaeus, who removes his sword from its scabbard and holds it horizontally. The knights turn to him and descend to one knee. Then Perronius does the same, resting it on the white and purple pillow placed before him.

  “Perronius, you have fulfilled the requirements for the esteemed title of Merlin by performing three distinct miracles, three impossible quests which could have only been completed by someone with preternatural gifts that have been bestowed on you by God. You are the chosen one, ordained and sanctified by Jesus Christ.” He pauses.

  “You and your knights have ended a decades long threat in the land of SeneGaulia, a country with a tyrant who had plans for our extermination. You and your men have ended this threat in a decisive and strategic plan, a plan that relied on your premonition and telepathy. Your latest quest was the last of the three.”

  Menelaeus motions to Lucian, who approaches the two and removes a thick gold chain with a silver pendant. A huge timber wolf sits in the middle of his wolf pack and his figure has a gold glow emanating from his aura. This is the sign of the divine shepherd, the chosen among his people to lead.

  Menelaeus nods to Lucian, who removes a set of sacred scrolls, written on ancient paper, a form of papyrus used for thousands of years before the thick parchment paper used in book printing and telegraph machines.

  “Perronius, you have performed the duties required for the title of Merlin. Do you accept these responsibilities?”

  “I do,” says Perronius.

  “Do you agree to use your powers of telepathy for the sole discretion of furthering this nation, protecting its borders and all within it, to eliminate threats from the outside and within its borders?”

  “I do,” says Perronius.

  “Perronius, do you agree to use your powers of premonition for the good of this nation, to disable threats, ensure the victory of our army, to thwart attacks from outside invaders, to sustain our great nation, to further the cause of democracy, to end the threat of tyranny, to eliminate tyrannical leaders, both domestically and abroad?”

  “I do,” says Perronius.

  “Do you agree to restrain your gifts from personal aggrandizement, political recompense, vengeance or unlawful and foul deeds which do not further the course of this nation?”

  “I do,” says Perronius.

  “Do you agree to uphold the Constitution of Gilleon, to ensure that Gilleon remains a nation under God, free from tyrannical rule, a nation that exists to ensure the lives of its citizens live in peace and prosperity? Do you agree to expand its borders when its borders are threatened by tyrannical rule?”

  “I do,” says Perronius.

  Lucian turns to Menelaeus. Menelaeus passes him his sword. Lucian takes the sword, touches his right shoulder with it and over his head to his left shoulder. Perronius kisses the sword.

  “By the power vested in me, I knight you the Merlin. Rise. Merlin turns to Menelaeus and Lucian. They both bow to him in acknowledgement. He turns to the crowd. The crowd thunders in unanimous approval. Menelaeus grabs his hand and raises it up to the crowd.

  “Behold the Merlin!” booms Menelaeus. The crowd applauses louder and begins to chant. “Merlin! Merlin! Merlin! For nearly five minutes, the crowd continues their clamorous approval. It continues well past the point where Merlin walks down the aisle. He reaches out and Chelsea runs to him, the tears streaming down her face.

  Chapter 18: The Humble Merlin

  Merlin takes his fastest horse, Dignity on the short journey to Privelene, a small township located just outside Lycenea. He rides up a meandering path, overgrown with thick vegetation and trees that eclipse the rambling ranch house that is situated near an orange grove. Beyond it, the dense vegetation continues, shrouding the structure in shadows for most of the day, except during summer hiatus.

  It is the perfect place to be lost for a spell. The property is owned by Pontius Selenius, friend and sponsor to the newly appointed Merlin.

  Merlin takes Dignity around to the stable area around the backside of the property, with Shadow in tow. As soon as he tethers her, Shadow emits a low level but menacing growl. He pats him on the head, assuaging him. “Heel boy.” Merlin feels the piercing eyes of Lespie and Gaeden Kai upon him. He walks a few yards out into the barn, while Shadow emits another warning growl. “I know boy,” says Merlin.

  Merlin feels his skin begin to tingle and the air take shape. He acts instinctively, as he always has, seamlessly reaching for his sword and ejecting the double-edged blade. He pivots and moves the blade slightly from side-to-side, parrying two lightning quick thrusts from Gaeden Kai and Lespie. Merlin kicks out with his front foot, connecting with Lespie in the stomach and knocking him back.

  Lespie gets up and coughs. His rock-hard stomach absorbed the power of the kick, but the air had been temporarily knocked out of him.

  “Impressive,” says Gaeden Kai. The whoosh registers in Merlin’s mind immediately. He moves around and swings his sword in a horizontal arc, severing the barrage of arrows that speed towards him with the force of a cannonball.

  Just as he finishes with the arc, Gaeden swings his own sword, connecting with Merlin’s and knocking it out from him. It flies off at least twenty yards and lands in the loft. In the next fraction of a second, Gaeden crouches slightly and sweeps his foot with the extreme precision of the most gifted acrobat. Merlin is caught unaware as his knees buckle and he falls to the ground.

  As he does, Gaeden Kai grabs him with his forearm around his neck and stops short of twisting his neck. Merlin holds up two fingers in submission. “I submit, Master.”

  Gaeden Kai releases him and smiles. “But not impressive enough.” He walks around, while Merlin gets up. “At least I know it will be nearly impossible for anyone to get the drop on you, initially. But, one day you will realize that attacks do not follow a linear progression. You are now the Merlin. Do you know what that means?”

  Merlin descends to his knees in deference. He nods. “Ai, Master. It means that I am a marked man.”

  “Not just a marked man, but the marked man. You are now one of the most sought-after man in CroAsia. You place a target on all your knights as well. You ken?”

  “Ai. It is part of our oath as Knights of the Round Table.”

  Gaeden walks around, assessing Merlin’s state of mind. “Would you humble yourself to me, knight?”

  “Ai,” says Merlin, without hesitation.

  “No matter what I ask of you?”

  “No matter what, Master,” says Merlin.

  “I know you will be bringing others here to train. The Shadow Warriors. The Dark Knights. They are as much a liability as me and my son. You ken?”

  Merlin nods, “Ai, Master.”

  “I will teach you everything I know, but not them. Part of what I will teach you will be forbidden. You ken?”

  Merlin nods, “Ai, Master.”

  Gaeden Kai takes his sword and places it in front of Merlin. “Swear your allegiance to me, knight, now and forevermore, until such time that your training is complete.”

  Merlin touches the sword and kisses it. “I swear, Master. From this day forward, I will follow you unerringly, without hesitation, until such time that my training is complete,” Merlin genuflects.

  “Then I accept
you as my pupil, Merlin. I am after all indebted to you. You have delivered me and my son from involuntary servitude. For this, I am most grateful. Rise, knight.” Merlin rises. “Before we begin, I would like to palaver with you.”

  “I would be honored,” says Merlin.

  Merlin and Shadow walk into the large ranch house. Since a group of large cypress trees partially shroud the home, it is much larger than it seems from the outside. The enormous vaulted ceilings immediately give a hint of its magnitude. Mahogany trellises crisscross the ceilings in an intertwining maze. The wood is stained a dark burgundy that is in stark contrast to the alabaster walls.

  Gaeden Kai and Lespie have done little in the way of personalizing the place. Four intricate paintings by Gaeden Kai are the only adornments he has allowed himself. The paintings are incredibly detailed and lifelike, adding depth and personality to the people in them. One of them is his deceased wife, Phylipides. She is breathtaking in the picture. She is smiling yet there is a despondent glean in her eyes, beautifully captured by the master artist, Gaeden Kai.

  The two other paintings are of his son and the last one is a landscape, detailing a mountain range with verdant vegetation and trees so lively it jumps at you. His remarkable gift is his ability to capture the very inner essence of his subjects, more so than a photograph could do.

  The details are sent to Merlin via telepathy from Shadow.

  “This place makes me feel lost in my thoughts,” says Gaeden. “Please join me in the servants’ kitchen.” He smiles. “Of course, there are no servants.”

  The servants’ kitchen is much smaller and cramped compared to the rest of the house. Gaeden prefers it that way. He has, after all, been confined most of his life. Lespie and Merlin sit at the table, while Gaeden finishes heating the tea on the stove.

  “Black currant tea,” says Lespie as he pours the tea. “Very soothing and yet mentally stimulating.” Merlin sips it but grimaces. “But it’s also very bitter. I’ve countered it with some honey, but unfortunately it only takes the edge off. If you can get past the taste, it will be well worth it.”