Chapter 18: Forging a Legend (430 AD)
London, 430 AD
POV ?
The boy was running.
He didn't care that the mud was ruining the shoes that he had stolen a few months ago. They were too large; the man he had stolen them from was almost twice his size but if living on the streets had taught him something it was to not be too picky. He missed the life he had with his mother, before she had kicked him out for having magic.
Unfortunately for him, his choice of shoes was biting him in the ass, as running was a lot harder with them moving around, and the mud, dirt and snow slowly entering in the cracks between his feet and the shoes.
He wasn't paying attention for the people around him, he had already accidentally tripped an old man and splashed a few women with muddy water. However, he didn't care. His life was at stake and he was attempting to escape his pursuers. He can see them running after him, it's been over an hour, don't they have a life or something better to do than to run after a fourteen-year-old boy? The three men didn't even care that there were people on the street, pushing them around as though they didn't matter. Normally, he would have escaped his pursuers, he had done so before when he was caught stealing food. Unfortunately, this time, he was being chased by wizards.
One of the men lifted his wand and the boy was suddenly lifted and thrown against the hard wall that surrounded the city of Londinium. Additionally, he was wet and dirty as he fell on the mud on the ground. The spell had resulted to him to hitting his head, causing him to feel sluggish. His clothes were pretty much ruined now, he had to remember to steal a new outfit later. He started to regret his actions that resulted in his situation. He was trying to steal food but had seen the men use a spell to move around his armor by making it float and he had looked around to admire the magic, hoping to learn how to do it by observing.
He was always very fascinated in magic, and his greatest wish was to have someone help him learn it. However, this was not the time to think about magic, he was in real trouble now.
"You gave us quite the trouble chasing you, runt" said one of the men. He was thin but he wore the clothes with the highest quality. The boy assumed he was the leader of the group. He was obviously a Saxon, since he spoke in Latin and was wearing a tunic made of linen which is common for men outside Britannia. As the man approached him, the boy noticed that he had a limp, he must have injured himself chasing him.
"Are shy now, boy? Now that you're not spying at us. Who do you work for?" asked the man.
"I don't work for anyone and I don't care enough about you to spy. I was trying to learn." He answered.
His answer seemed perplex his captors. "What do you mean you wanted to learn?"
"Magic! I wanted to learn magic. I saw you using it to move things around and I wanted to learn how."
The Saxons laughed at him. "Magic? You wanted to use Magic? A filthy muggle like you can't do magic, boy."
"I'm no muggle!" shouted the boy. He had learned the term before as wizards were using it for non-magical people but he kinda felt it was meant the demean them.
"Please! No wizard would be a homeless boy, and no wizard would need to spy on strangers to learn magic, his family would have taught him…"
The boy winced at that answer. His father had abandoned his mother after a night of passion. He had promised her riches and status but disappeared the day after. Since his mother didn't have magic, he couldn't learn from anyone. His mother grew to hate magic which is why she threw him out five years ago when he accidentally blew up a wall in a store.
The thought of his parents angered him and suddenly, something surged inside his chest and the Saxon was suddenly thrown away against the opposing wall, face first into the mud.
The man quickly gets back to his feet, wand drawn. He fires a spell at the boy, an he feels as if he was punched in the stomach. "He has a wand, look for it."
The shake him up and find no wand.
"Must be accidental magic then, guess he really wasn't a muggle." He kicks the boy in the chest. "Doesn't change a damn thing, in my opinion."
They laughed as they kept casting spell after spell at the boy. Each one making him feel as if someone was briefly burning him with a small boiling hot object. He kept screaming, begging for mercy as his tormentors laughed and cheered. Tears were streaming from his eyes, he was hoping and praying for his magic to defend him, to no avail. He knew that after these men got bored of him, they would kill him.
Suddenly, a glowing blue shield appeared around him protecting him. It reflected the latest spell back at the Saxons. Did he do that? No! he didn't feel his magic like he usually did when it was used.
"That's enough boys!"
Both the Saxons and himself looked towards the woman that spoke. She was young, had long wavy black hair and glowing emerald eyes. She was wearing a black woolen tunic and a green skirt. She was carrying a walking stick in her right hand and a basket in her left. And while her attire was dirty, her stick was sanded and smooth, the wood was clean despite the muddy day. It was pitch black, like it could absorb all light.
What was different about her was that she didn't look afraid of the Saxons which meant one thing: the woman was a witch. His captors didn't notice this and assumed she was a commoner of low breeding as her attire suggested.
"Leave, wench. This does not concern you."
"Three grown men against on boy. He must have done something very terrible to earn such a severe punishment. Did he steal your gold?"
"No."
"Kill someone you care about?"
"No."
"Did he sleep with your wife?"
"What! No!" the man spluttered.
"Huh, given how you look I wouldn't blame her. Ah, you don't have a wife. No surprise there. Then why have you been disciplining this young man?"
The man didn't even try to respond as he sent a spell her way. A spell that splashed against an invisible shield before it touched her.
"Was that supposed to be a Banishing charm? I guess you are as pathetic with a wand as hideous you look!"
The man was suddenly lifted of the ground and thrown heavily into the wall. The boy heard a loud cracking, there was no mistake, the man was dead. How had she done this without even moving? The boy decided that he had to learn from her.
Suddenly, the mud and snow came alive and climbed one of the Saxons, immobilizing him as he was mid casting. The remaining one was faster though and cast a spell. "Bombarda"
A yellow light came streaking from the wand and met the woman's magical shield with a loud banging noise. The shield held true, of course, and the man was disarmed and immediately thrown backwards.
"You should leave now. This is your only warning." But the man wasn't listening to her. He was eyeing his wand on the floor.
"Don't be a fool." But the boy was certain the Saxon was a fool, and the man proved it a moment later. A flash of light met him halfway. What arrived at the wand was a lifeless lump of flesh, blank eyes staring at the sky, with a hole the size of a fist where his heart should be.
The last Saxon remaining wasn't as foolish. The man put his wand away and kept walking away from her raised hand. He did not appear angry that his comrades' deaths. I guess there was no loyalty between them.
When the man was out of sight, the woman asked "Are you alright?"
He was fine of course; he had received worse beatings when he was caught stealing but he didn't care about that. He cared about the magic.
"You have magic!"
"Oh! What a smart boy you are. I guess you're okay then." The turned around to walk away.
The boy ran after her.
"Teach me!"
"So, demanding, is this how you ask a person to help you?"
"Can you please teach me?"
"I can."
The boy didn't know how to respond.
"Will you teach me?"
"No."
"But no one will teach me!"
She ignored him and walked away. "Please…"
He grabbed her arm to beg her to take him as a disciple. Suddenly, he felt as if his body was compressed, warped into a very thin tube. It lasted only for a second but it felt like an eternity. As the world came to normal, he fell to the ground.
They weren't in a city anymore but in a forest. It was full of trees as tall as buildings. He turned around a found a lake with a clearing. On the shore of the lake was a house with a small garden of what he was guessing was fruits and vegetables. It wasn't as big as a noble's but it looked comfortable and more like a home than the fancy building, he had broken into once for shelter. It was the last time he had made that mistake. If his magic hadn't saved him, he would have been dead.
Suddenly he just remembered that her magic had transported them from one place to another. He was so pestering her into teaching him this trick. Something that seemed very unlikely considering how angry she looked at him.
"You Idiot! What the hell were you thinking." Her hands roamed her body. "Is there anything hurting you?"
"This is not Londinium…"
"Are you missing a brain or something? You could have died. If someone touched me when I'm apparating he could be cut into two pieces."
"Is this what it's called, Apparating? I have never seen anyone do it before."
She just smiled at him.
"Where are we?"
"Pictland"
Pictland? This was on the other side of Brittania. We moved that much in just a few seconds.
"Please teach me."
"Enough nonsense, I'm taking you back to Londinium."
"To what? Why is Londinium better than here?"
She stared at him incredulously. "Surely you have a family…"
"My mother cast me out because I have magic. The Saxons hunt me for sport because I have magic and I don't know how to use it! Where am I supposed to go? The community in Londinium is very isolated and no one would help a street rat like me. Please Mistress!"
"Do not call me that!"
"Then what do I call you?"
"My name, if you must know, is Morgan."
"Pleased to meet you, Mistress Morgan. Please teach me."
She glared at him, her eyes a vibrant green even in the grey light of the winter's day. She cupped her face in her hands, sliding them up to pull on her hair. "You are such a pain in the ass!"
The comment, so baldly put, made him burst into laughter. He snorted and giggled, and she rolled her eyes at him, but he could see her fighting not to smile. "You're not the first to say so," he was finally able to say.
"I'm not surprised. Are you sure you want to be my apprentice? I will not tolerate any idiocy. If you cause me any problems, I have no problem tossing your ass out."
"I will work as hard as I can. I will learn anything you teach me without any problems. I promise Morgan, I need this."
"Alright fine. First thing, boy, what is your name?"
"My name is Myrddin, Myrddin Emrys."
Chapter 18: Forging a Legend (430 AD)
London, 430 AD
POV ?
The boy was running.
He didn't care that the mud was ruining the shoes that he had stolen a few months ago. They were too large; the man he had stolen them from was almost twice his size but if living on the streets had taught him something it was to not be too picky. He missed the life he had with his mother, before she had kicked him out for having magic.
Unfortunately for him, his choice of shoes was biting him in the ass, as running was a lot harder with them moving around, and the mud, dirt and snow slowly entering in the cracks between his feet and the shoes.
He wasn't paying attention for the people around him, he had already accidentally tripped an old man and splashed a few women with muddy water. However, he didn't care. His life was at stake and he was attempting to escape his pursuers. He can see them running after him, it's been over an hour, don't they have a life or something better to do than to run after a fourteen-year-old boy? The three men didn't even care that there were people on the street, pushing them around as though they didn't matter. Normally, he would have escaped his pursuers, he had done so before when he was caught stealing food. Unfortunately, this time, he was being chased by wizards.
One of the men lifted his wand and the boy was suddenly lifted and thrown against the hard wall that surrounded the city of Londinium. Additionally, he was wet and dirty as he fell on the mud on the ground. The spell had resulted to him to hitting his head, causing him to feel sluggish. His clothes were pretty much ruined now, he had to remember to steal a new outfit later. He started to regret his actions that resulted in his situation. He was trying to steal food but had seen the men use a spell to move around his armor by making it float and he had looked around to admire the magic, hoping to learn how to do it by observing.
He was always very fascinated in magic, and his greatest wish was to have someone help him learn it. However, this was not the time to think about magic, he was in real trouble now.
"You gave us quite the trouble chasing you, runt" said one of the men. He was thin but he wore the clothes with the highest quality. The boy assumed he was the leader of the group. He was obviously a Saxon, since he spoke in Latin and was wearing a tunic made of linen which is common for men outside Britannia. As the man approached him, the boy noticed that he had a limp, he must have injured himself chasing him.
"Are shy now, boy? Now that you're not spying at us. Who do you work for?" asked the man.
"I don't work for anyone and I don't care enough about you to spy. I was trying to learn." He answered.
His answer seemed perplex his captors. "What do you mean you wanted to learn?"
"Magic! I wanted to learn magic. I saw you using it to move things around and I wanted to learn how."
The Saxons laughed at him. "Magic? You wanted to use Magic? A filthy muggle like you can't do magic, boy."
"I'm no muggle!" shouted the boy. He had learned the term before as wizards were using it for non-magical people but he kinda felt it was meant the demean them.
"Please! No wizard would be a homeless boy, and no wizard would need to spy on strangers to learn magic, his family would have taught him…"
The boy winced at that answer. His father had abandoned his mother after a night of passion. He had promised her riches and status but disappeared the day after. Since his mother didn't have magic, he couldn't learn from anyone. His mother grew to hate magic which is why she threw him out five years ago when he accidentally blew up a wall in a store.
The thought of his parents angered him and suddenly, something surged inside his chest and the Saxon was suddenly thrown away against the opposing wall, face first into the mud.
The man quickly gets back to his feet, wand drawn. He fires a spell at the boy, an he feels as if he was punched in the stomach. "He has a wand, look for it."
The shake him up and find no wand.
"Must be accidental magic then, guess he really wasn't a muggle." He kicks the boy in the chest. "Doesn't change a damn thing, in my opinion."
They laughed as they kept casting spell after spell at the boy. Each one making him feel as if someone was briefly burning him with a small boiling hot object. He kept screaming, begging for mercy as his tormentors laughed and cheered. Tears were streaming from his eyes, he was hoping and praying for his magic to defend him, to no avail. He knew that after these men got bored of him, they would kill him.
Suddenly, a glowing blue shield appeared around him protecting him. It reflected the latest spell back at the Saxons. Did he do that? No! he didn't feel his magic like he usually did when it was used.
"That's enough boys!"
Both the Saxons and himself looked towards the woman that spoke. She was young, had long wavy black hair and glowing emerald eyes. She was wearing a black woolen tunic and a green skirt. She was carrying a walking stick in her right hand and a basket in her left. And while her attire was dirty, her stick was sanded and smooth, the wood was clean despite the muddy day. It was pitch black, like it could absorb all light.
What was different about her was that she didn't look afraid of the Saxons which meant one thing: the woman was a witch. His captors didn't notice this and assumed she was a commoner of low breeding as her attire suggested.
"Leave, wench. This does not concern you."
"Three grown men against on boy. He must have done something very terrible to earn such a severe punishment. Did he steal your gold?"
"No."
"Kill someone you care about?"
"No."
"Did he sleep with your wife?"
"What! No!" the man spluttered.
"Huh, given how you look I wouldn't blame her. Ah, you don't have a wife. No surprise there. Then why have you been disciplining this young man?"
The man didn't even try to respond as he sent a spell her way. A spell that splashed against an invisible shield before it touched her.
"Was that supposed to be a Banishing charm? I guess you are as pathetic with a wand as hideous you look!"
The man was suddenly lifted of the ground and thrown heavily into the wall. The boy heard a loud cracking, there was no mistake, the man was dead. How had she done this without even moving? The boy decided that he had to learn from her.
Suddenly, the mud and snow came alive and climbed one of the Saxons, immobilizing him as he was mid casting. The remaining one was faster though and cast a spell. "Bombarda"
A yellow light came streaking from the wand and met the woman's magical shield with a loud banging noise. The shield held true, of course, and the man was disarmed and immediately thrown backwards.
"You should leave now. This is your only warning." But the man wasn't listening to her. He was eyeing his wand on the floor.
"Don't be a fool." But the boy was certain the Saxon was a fool, and the man proved it a moment later. A flash of light met him halfway. What arrived at the wand was a lifeless lump of flesh, blank eyes staring at the sky, with a hole the size of a fist where his heart should be.
The last Saxon remaining wasn't as foolish. The man put his wand away and kept walking away from her raised hand. He did not appear angry that his comrades' deaths. I guess there was no loyalty between them.
When the man was out of sight, the woman asked "Are you alright?"
He was fine of course; he had received worse beatings when he was caught stealing but he didn't care about that. He cared about the magic.
"You have magic!"
"Oh! What a smart boy you are. I guess you're okay then." The turned around to walk away.
The boy ran after her.
"Teach me!"
"So, demanding, is this how you ask a person to help you?"
"Can you please teach me?"
"I can."
The boy didn't know how to respond.
"Will you teach me?"
"No."
"But no one will teach me!"
She ignored him and walked away. "Please…"
He grabbed her arm to beg her to take him as a disciple. Suddenly, he felt as if his body was compressed, warped into a very thin tube. It lasted only for a second but it felt like an eternity. As the world came to normal, he fell to the ground.
They weren't in a city anymore but in a forest. It was full of trees as tall as buildings. He turned around a found a lake with a clearing. On the shore of the lake was a house with a small garden of what he was guessing was fruits and vegetables. It wasn't as big as a noble's but it looked comfortable and more like a home than the fancy building, he had broken into once for shelter. It was the last time he had made that mistake. If his magic hadn't saved him, he would have been dead.
Suddenly he just remembered that her magic had transported them from one place to another. He was so pestering her into teaching him this trick. Something that seemed very unlikely considering how angry she looked at him.
"You Idiot! What the hell were you thinking." Her hands roamed her body. "Is there anything hurting you?"
"This is not Londinium…"
"Are you missing a brain or something? You could have died. If someone touched me when I'm apparating he could be cut into two pieces."
"Is this what it's called, Apparating? I have never seen anyone do it before."
She just smiled at him.
"Where are we?"
"Pictland"
Pictland? This was on the other side of Brittania. We moved that much in just a few seconds.
"Please teach me."
"Enough nonsense, I'm taking you back to Londinium."
"To what? Why is Londinium better than here?"
She stared at him incredulously. "Surely you have a family…"
"My mother cast me out because I have magic. The Saxons hunt me for sport because I have magic and I don't know how to use it! Where am I supposed to go? The community in Londinium is very isolated and no one would help a street rat like me. Please Mistress!"
"Do not call me that!"
"Then what do I call you?"
"My name, if you must know, is Morgan."
"Pleased to meet you, Mistress Morgan. Please teach me."
She glared at him, her eyes a vibrant green even in the grey light of the winter's day. She cupped her face in her hands, sliding them up to pull on her hair. "You are such a pain in the ass!"
The comment, so baldly put, made him burst into laughter. He snorted and giggled, and she rolled her eyes at him, but he could see her fighting not to smile. "You're not the first to say so," he was finally able to say.
"I'm not surprised. Are you sure you want to be my apprentice? I will not tolerate any idiocy. If you cause me any problems, I have no problem tossing your ass out."
"I will work as hard as I can. I will learn anything you teach me without any problems. I promise Morgan, I need this."
"Alright fine. First thing, boy, what is your name?"
"My name is Myrddin, Myrddin Emrys."
