The year: 2023

Lastshire: The Birthplace of Magic

[Marty's POV]

If I had to guess, I would say we were cooking for at least a few hours; when we finished, no one would have believed that the giggling, flour-doused young woman eating a red velvet cake with abandon was the ruler of Lastshire. In this instance, she was more like an excited child than a high priestess, the monarch of an entire realm. 

"Young one, if I knew that delicacies such as these are served in Albion now, I would have visited it often." She said, wrapping her lips around another big slice of the velvety soft goodness. 

Forgetting, for a moment, what Merlin had told me earlier, I asked, "Why did you leave?" Regretting my error, I braced myself for the unpleasantness that was sure to follow. It didn't. 

The once high priestess left a labored breath as if something had gotten stuck in her chest, "The lies and deceit were getting too much. Uther accused me of something I had not done. Magic has its own rules, Marty. Even I can't change them," she sighed, "Despite my efforts, my powers were manipulated and used as a tool to bring hate and misery into Albion. That's when I decided that it was time I left it. Moreover, someone needed to enforce the law and watch over Lastshire's residents; am I right?"

I nodded. The priestess was nothing like Merlin had made her out to be. "I wish Merlin wouldn't lie to me." I couldn't believe I had done it again: let my mouth run away with my thoughts. I kicked myself mentally. 

"Merlin only ever tells white lies." She snapped her fingers, and all the mess we had made while baking disappeared. 

"Cool!" I exclaimed, and the woman laughed, "I take it that you are impressed."

"I am, ma'am."

"Alas, it's not as easy as it looks. Even magic so small has a price." A small smile touched the corner of her eyes as they followed a red petal fall from her hairdo onto the ground. 

I recalled how the garden was littered with petals. Thousands, maybe millions of them. Were they a part of the priestess once? Was she losing herself a tiny bit at a time? That did not seem fair. 

"You see," Her words brought me out of my reprieve, "it draws from your body and soul. Magic done for the good of the nation's people or done with a pure heart will not affect it, but any other kind will drain it."

"What happens when it is drained completely?" 

"What do you think, Marty Wyllt?" She exhorted; leaning towards me, she rested her chin on the back of her hand. Her eyes followed me- as I paced back and forth, mapping the room in slow, aimless strides- like a hawk eyeing her next kill. 

Rubbing my chin, I guessed, "Well, if we talk in human terms, without a soul, the body will die. However, I don't think that's right in this case."

The priestess hummed, "Go on."

"You mentioned that magic drains the soul, so if I think of our body as a vessel that holds it, then when it empties, it will leave space for something else. We often refer to the soul as a human's conscience, then the lack of it would mean an absence of conscience," I paused to gather my thoughts, "that would mean-" I couldn't go on. 

Could it be that Nimueh was hinting at the existence of beings who had already used up their souls? 

But that would mean-

'I have been protecting you. Stopping your existence from being revealed.' Merlin's words rang in my ears. 

That would mean that everything Merlin had said was the literal truth, not a metaphor. 

"Marty Wyllt, I am waiting. Aren't you going to tell me what you have figured out?" The ruler of Lastshire asked; her bluish grays lit with curiosity. 

I shook my head, "No. That's not it. I just," I hesitated, "don't think the conclusion I have drawn is possible."

"Maybe, but I would still like to hear it."

My throat felt like sandpaper. "Okay." I squeaked. I felt no better than a mouse trapped in an iron cage. Hoping for my hypothesis to be wrong, I answered, "Evil; those who drain their souls turn evil."

"Well done, young one." Nimueh smiled. Impressed. "Now, can you tell me what would happen if you or the gateway to Lastshire were to fall into their hands?"

There was only one word I could think of, "Devastation."

The woman pursed her lips. "Even with the right spells, a sorcerer who has drained his soul would never be able to get into Lastshire. Can you guess why that might be?"

I concluded that Nimueh liked to challenge people to think and speak. In the time that I had spent here, I hadn't seen anyone other than us. Was it possible that she was perhaps the only one of her kind here? 

I thought hard about what Merlin had told me and what I had observed. Lastshire was a sacred place, yet, I hadn't noticed any security measures taken to guard it against intruders. 

'What kind of vault doesn't have a lock?' I contemplated, and the answer came to me instantly. "Only those with pure hearts can enter Lastshire."

"Close enough. Well done, young one. That's one reason; the other is that Lastshire's gateways are special. Only those who carry or have an intimate connection with the stone of Erer can see the passages. One can't try to open the door that they can't even see, can they?"

I had never felt the urge to protect a place more than this one. It was like Eden, possibly better, for Eden was a myth, but this wasn't, "What is the stone of Erer, ma'am?" I asked on an impulse, then shook my head. "You know what, don't tell me. The less people know about it, the better."

I didn't know what she found amusing, but the high priestess giggled like a teen who had discovered her parents' porn stash. 

"Silly child, that thing around your neck is the stone of Erer."

"Oh." I felt like I had entered an examination hall with my life at stake. 

"It's the only one of its kind, a gift I had given to Balinor, Merlin's father."

"Merlin's father… " I parroted. 

A sad smile graced her lips at the mention of Merlin's father. Her large doe eyes swam with unshed tears. They were not just any tears; I knew they were special, or they would have ventured out for everyone to see. These tears were a secret between her and the man named Balinor. 

"Yes, he was stubborn, just like Merlin. Sometimes I wish-"

"My Lady," Merlin called, interrupting our conversation. Smiling from ear to ear, he announced. "I found it." 

Walking towards us, he side-eyed me, reprimanding me for something he was sure I had done without investigating the situation. It was a very dad-like thing to do. 

"I am glad," Nimueh replied with a curt nod, looking nothing like the cheerful yet playfully mysterious woman she was mere moments ago. 

"I hope Marty did not offend you. He is rather crude and uncultured, but it's not his fault. It's like each generation is dumber than the one before. I will try my best-"

"He was lovely, and if I get even a whiff of you being unreasonable with him, you will have to answer to me."

Merlin looked like he had bitten into a lemon and jumped in a pool of vinegar. "Oh. Is that so… "

"Thank you for your kind words, ma'am. I don't deserve them." I went down on my knees, just to show Merlin how gentlemanly I could be when I wanted to, and wiggled my brows at the undoubtedly jealous man. 

"Young one, I will leave you for the day. I hope I can see you more often now that your training is about to start." She said fondly and left the room with Merlin following a few steps behind her, leaving me with my unasked, unanswered question.

Tired and with nothing to do, I found a log wedged in the corner of the kitchen. Hoping to rest my bottom, I plopped down on it.

"Get Off! Get off! Get off! You bloody pervert!" I heard the voice, followed by a blunt object digging into my butt. I may or may not have yelped and jumped a hundred feet off the bench. 

"I am sorry, whoever you are." I apologized, scanning the room. 

"Oh, it's you," the voice turned fond, "How have you been, Merlin?" the log of wood asked, two chocolate brown eyes appearing where my butt had been a few seconds ago. 

"You seem to be mistaken. I am Marty, not Merlin." I informed, leaning closer for it to see. 

"Ah. Yes. I should have known that Merlin would never disrespect me so." He sighed. His eyes turned into slits like he was observing me. "Is that a Heva that I smell?" He added, and a second later, a Pinocchio nose materialized below his eyes. "I wonder who the lady wants to give a mortal form to using Heva; deep magic it is, more ancient than The Lady herself."

What was this Heva thing? What did The Log mean by 'mortal form'? Every word out of his mouth was Greek and Latin to me, "Mister, can you elaborate?" I asked, but he ignored me.

"The cost is great. The priestess is already perishing. Who might be draining her power, I wonder? If she falls, Lastshire will too. Where will I go then?"

The words shocked me. Did the voices of wood mention what I think he meant? It wasn't possible, was it? Nimueh had survived for over a thousand years! Why would she die now? The Log was obviously spouting nonsense, right? 

My heart thundered in my chest. Fear took me in its hold. While I was thinking about protecting Lastshire, the woman on whom this place depended was- 

"The priestess doesn't care about living, but I do, and so do the woods and waters. It's all that stupid man's fault for dying! Only HE can save us." The Log lamented; snot ran down its nostrils.

So there was hope. We could still save Lastshire. Ignoring the disgusting sight, I asked, "Who can save us?" 

"The one who can pull out Excalibur, obviously. Merlin, you have grown senile, lad. It's time you retired." The Log suggested, trying to stifle a yawn and failing.

Frustrated at being called Merlin, I opened my mouth to correct him. I didn't get far. 

The Log huffed. The tip of its nose flared. "Didn't I tell you that staring is offensive, Merlin? Now quit idling around. The priestess has summoned you. Off you go! Chop chop!" Then, closing its chocolate eyes, it fell silent. 

I was confused all over again. My mind urged me to see logic. Was it wise to take words spoken by a log of wood seriously? Yet, somewhere deep down, I was sure there was truth to what he had said. 

Could I risk not heeding the words which- for all intents and purposes- sounded like a warning? Whatever the case, I had made peace with the fact that I had a lot to learn, and from the looks of it, I needed to do it fast. 

Not knowing what to expect but making up my mind to protect the place and its priestess, I took a deep breath readying myself for the perils that Merlin had mentioned not long ago.