The year: 892

Uther Pendragon's residence, Camelot,
Albion

A mighty storm raged outside, drowning the screams that left Queen Igraine's chamber. The labor was proving difficult for the soon-to-be first-time mother. Taliesen, the royal healer, barked instructions to the midwife to make the woman as comfortable as possible. The gentle-looking, wrinkly man with an unkempt mane of graying hair was one of the reigning King, Uther Pendragon's two most trusted advisors, and friends. 

"Your Majesty, please, I implore you to reconsider." Taliesen approached the woman drenched in sweat. Her usually bright golden tresses were stuck to her forehead and lined her oval face. "I can't save you both. Just say the word, and I can end your misery. You are young; I am sure Balinor will be able to find another way to beget Camelot a Prince. An heir-"

"-with eyes as blue as the ocean and hair as golden as the rising sun." The pale-looking woman finished between shallow breaths. Her brows creased.

The royal healer could tell the immense pain the woman was going through by how her hands shivered, clutching the quilt covering her modesty. 

"Child…" Taliesen's shoulders slumped, "I am aware that I am probably fighting a losing battle here but trust me, Uther needs you, and so does Camelot."

"No, Sir Taliesen," the blue-eyed woman held out her frail, trembling hands that the latter accepted and knelt on the gray floor, "everyone, including my husband, needs this child to be born. He needs to be born so Camelot can prosper."

"A child who will have to grow up without his mother, do you truly think it wise, Your Majesty?"

"Uther can remarry." Igraine turned her head away; she spoke more to herself than to the man who knew that prophecy aside, Uther Pentagon needed his wife.

"He loves you, child."

"Yes, he does, but not more than the one growing inside me. Sire, promise me that you will guard Arthur-" Igraine's eyes settled on her swollen belly; she smiled like she could see the prophesied boy alive and in front of her, "-my son, with your life. You owe it to me, and so does Sir Balinor," she spoke with resolution. Not moments later, a gut-wrenching scream tore out of her chest. She closed her cerulean eyes and fisted the sheets that had cradled her slowly withering body for months following her pregnancy.  

The conversation was over. Taliesen had lost, and Camelot would have to bear the price. Giving the royal woman's hand one last squeeze, he let it go. With no choice left, he hung his head and gave a command that he knew would destroy hundreds of innocent lives in the near future. 

Meanwhile, Uther Pendragon paced outside the closed doors, worried but confident in Taliesen's abilities. It appeared that The Queen's cries hadn't made it past her chamber. If they had, Camelot's fate would have been different, perhaps. 

Concern and apprehension danced on Uther's regal countenance as he waited for the good news: Congratulations, Your Majesty, it's a boy. 

Igraine was the love of Uther's life, but despite their best efforts, the couple had trouble conceiving. With the pressure for an heir mounting, in desperation, Uther had turned to his trusted friend and royal advisor, Balinor, a once revered sorcerer. However, after an unfortunate experience, the sorcerer had turned his back on magic. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. 

Uther had begged his friend and advisor for help. He reasoned that without an heir, the kingdom would be thrown into turmoil, and their hard-earned peace would be snatched away. "Think about it, my friend. If you help me now, we can secure Camelot's future. Without it, hundreds, maybe thousands, will die." Uther was relentless, and in the end, Balinor caved.

"This kind of magic  doesn't come without a cost, Your Majesty." The sorcerer warned, but the chance of becoming a father blinded Uther to the consequences.

The King of Camelot reassured that whatever the price, as long as Igraine could birth a healthy boy, he would pay it gladly.

"Where is Balinor!?" Uther demanded, "I want him here. Right now!" He yelled at the guard stationed outside Igraine's room.

The door, behind which Igraine twisted and turned in agony, opened a smidgen, letting out a long, slender shadow. A stomach-churning scream escaped the enchanted room a heartbeat later. It echoed through the castle's corridors, clearly heard over the thunder rattling the windows, threatening to pull them right off their hinges.

"Igraine!" Uther banged on the door, worried for his wife and yet-to-be-born prince: the future of Camelot. 

The door opened just enough for Gaius to step outside. In his hands, a small bundle cooed and gurgled. The tuft of blond curls peeked out of the carefully wrapped blanket and caught the light from a nearby torch, glimmering like the rising sun.

"Your Majesty, it's a boy," Gaius whispered like he was afraid that if he spoke any louder, it would disturb the infant's as-of-yet cheerful mood and make it cry. He carefully handed the infant to Uther, who missed the solemn look on the old physician's face. 

"Congratulations, your Majesty." The healer bowed. "Sire, there is something-"

"Later, Taliesen. First, let me look upon my son." Uther's pinky caught on the swaddle, and he pulled the fabric away from his son's cherub-like face. "He looks just like Igraine." Uther grinned and poked his head inside his wife's chamber. "Did Igraine look at him? What did she say?"

Taliesen lowered his gaze, "Yes, your Majesty. She was happy to have given you what you desired most."

"And?"

"She said she would like the prince to be called Arthur."

"Arthur... Arthur Pendragon. It rolls off the tongue with ease. What a fitting name my lovely wife has chosen." 

"Yes, your Majesty." The graying healer nodded in a small voice and fell silent with his head bowed low.

Uther finally caught on to the fact that something was wrong. "What's happened, Taliesen?" He asked, stepping over the threshold, but before he could see Igraine, the guard sent to summon Balinor returned. Empty-handed. 

"Your Majesty, Sir Balinor is not in his quarters. He left this note for you." The guard heaved. He handed over the neatly folded parchment with Camelot's sigil- a red serpent- embossed on it.

Uther broke the seal and read:

'My King, 

I will be long gone when you get this. I am not begging for forgiveness. I know I was in the wrong.

I need you to know the truth. I tried to bargain for The Queen's life in exchange for mine, but Nimueh didn't accept. She said that only blood can pay for blood. She made me choose. It was either you or Igraine. I did what I thought would be in the best interests of Camelot. 

I am sorry for your loss, Uther. Please, believe me, one day, I will make it up to you, my friend.

Balinor'

Uther crumpled the parchment and fed it to the flames. Then, throwing the door open, with his son cradled in his arms, he walked into his wife's chamber.

The scarlet sheets and the stench of iron that permeated the air inside the chamber made bile rise to his throat. Tears welled up in his steel gray eyes and dripped onto the infant's swaddle. 

"Everyone. Leave." He ordered, clutching at the straws of calmness slipping through his fingers. "Not you, Taliesen. You need to stay." Uther added, stopping the healer just before he stepped out of sight. 

Uther brushed his wife's golden, waist-length locks away from her pale, sweat-drenched face. "You, both of you, promised me a son, Taliesen." He stated, referring to his two friends: one a healer, and the other, his personal guard, Balinor. They were the ones who had stood beside him as he climbed the ranks from being a mere soldier serving under Vazeer Pendragon, a ruthless, unjust king, to first a commander and then to Vazeer's son-in-law. 

After the king's demise, Uther took the king's last name: Pendragon, and the reins of  Camelot in his hand. Those were dire times. As famines weakened Camelot from within, the neighboring kingdoms waged wars on it, trying to capture the once-prosperous nation. 

As a last resort, Malesa, Uther's then-wife, on Balinor's suggestion, had offered her life in exchange for peace to be returned to Camelot.

"No one told me that it could mean losing Igraine!" Uther's barely held composure crumbled. He laid the now-wailing infant close to his mother and turned to his friend. "It would seem that Balinor has absconded. Are you planning to do the same?"

Feigning ignorance, the healer looked at Uther with confusion. 

Uther laughed mirthlessly. "I take it that you didn't know that your best friend betrayed me." 

"I don't understand-"

"He exchanged Igraine's life for my son's!" The man looked at the royal healer, deranged. 

Taliesen said nothing. He had already guessed that that was the case as soon as Igraine had started bleeding immediately after her water broke. His fears were confirmed moments later when he received a letter from Balinor seeking help to take care of and protect his family, whom he had instructed to escape to Stoway. 

"I am sorry, your Majesty." The healer muttered, but Uther wasn't in any condition to listen to anyone. 

"What's done is done; I can't bring Igraine back even if I trade my life for hers." Picking up his son, he kissed his forehead. "Arthur, your birth has opened my eyes. I am sorry that I couldn't protect your mother. Rest assured, no one will ever lose a loved one at the hands of magic. All magic can ever do is bring pain. It's a vile thing that must be eliminated from the face of Camelot." With that, Uther left Igraine's chamber with Taliesen in tow. 

In silence, with a terrible storm raging outside the castle, Uther vowed to kill every last man, woman, and child with even a hint of magical blood running through their veins. Everyone except Taliesen. 

The morning after, as the sun rose over Camelot, royal guards rode out in all directions with a royal decree:

'Citizens of Camelot, 

From this day forward, anyone practicing magic or suspected of it will be executed without trial. 

It can bring us no good and corrupts whatever it touches. 

Those who report such evil acts will be handsomely rewarded for their services and earn The King's favor. 

Your King.
Uther Pendragon'

The embers of hate for magic and its practitioners that ignited in Uther's heart the day he lost Igraine never ebbed. If anything, as time passed, it burned brighter and stronger till he became the man he hated most: The King he had succeeded. He never loved or married another till he breathed his last more than two decades later.

Plagued with guilt for failing his friend and pushing the lives of his people into turmoil, Balinor decided that he had to turn his back on magic for good, but before that, there were things he needed to take care of. He paid a fleeting visit to his family and had a quiet meal with them. Confessing his crime to his young wife, he hugged his three-year-old son, Myrddin. He cried in their arms for being absent for most of their life and repented for the life of struggle his departure would push them into.

"I did you wrong by marrying you, Luella. After what I have done, if I stay with you, it will jeopardize your lives; I can't do that. Please leave here; go to Stoway. Taliesen has his extended family there. They will watch over you," Balinor ran his fingers over his son's dark wavy hair that fell to his forehead, almost hiding his ebony brows. "both of you." 

Luella nodded through her tears. She was heartbroken but knew what her husband suggested was for the best.

"When Myrddin turns sixteen," Balinor pulled an emerald amulet from around his neck and tied it around Luella, "go to Willsden." He fished out a sealed envelope from his satchel with a wild bear's sigil embossed on the wax seal. "The King of Willsden, Atherol the Fourth, owes me a favor."

Luella waited for her husband to go on. Balinor stared into the light of the flame that kept their cottage from falling into darkness. "I need Myrddin to study hard. The books he needs to hone his skills are hidden in the place I showed you. Do you remember it?"

"The tree you made me remember on our way here the day we got married?" 

Balinor nodded.

The quiet resolve in his eyes was lined with turmoil. It stung Luella's  heart, "You are not planning to return to us, are you?"

Balinor said nothing. His silence answered his wife.

Luella steadied her mind and calmed her restless soul; taking her husband's hand in hers, she spoke with confidence she did not feel. "Balinor, I promise to take care of us. Tell me everything you need me to know. Go without guilt. Do what you need to do. I don't blame you. I never have, never will."

Guilt raked his heart. There were many things he had kept from his wife. He had intended to come clean to her soon after the prince's birth, but Igraine's death had made it impossible for him to settle and grow his family. Another choice he had made that he regretted. 

Balinor gulped thickly, "Thank you, my love. For this, I shall be forever indebted to you."

Luella shook her head, "You are my husband. You are a good man. If anyone, it should be me who should be grateful, husband."

'Yes, it won't serve anyone to confess now,' Balinor decided and told Luella everything he had seen in his vision and what he planned to do to make it up to Camelot: The Kingdom he had helped build and destroy. 

As the meal ended, he lifted his son in his arms for one last time and instructed the little boy, "You have a great destiny, son. And your name is your most powerful weapon. As long as no one knows your true name, they can't manipulate you. That's the first rule of magic. Do you understand?"

The boy bobbed his head. Though he couldn't understand why his parents were sobbing, he knew enough to take his father's words seriously. 

Both Luella and Balinor were more or less orphans. As a young boy, Balinor was boisterous and overconfident. He had rubbed a lot of people the wrong way. To avoid attracting trouble for his wife, who he had wed after a whirlwind romance, he continued to keep his marital status a secret.

None except Taliesen was aware that Balinor was a husband and a father. 

"Myrddin, from today onwards, you are Merlin. That's what you will tell anyone who asks." The sorcerer instructed. Holding the boy to his chest, he whispered, "My son, you have magic, just like I do, but because of a mistake I made, you will have to hide the fact from everyone except Uncle Taliesen."

"Everyone?" The boy asked to confirm. His inquisitive dark eyes searched for the answer on his father's countenance. 

"Yes, my son. No one must know. If they do, your lives," Balinor's eyes traveled from his son to his wife before settling on the former, "will come under threat. Hide your gifts, but learn the art. When you come of age, another path will welcome you." Balinor glanced at his wife before returning to catch the toddler's inquisitive, dark pools. "I won't be there to teach you how to control your magic. But I believe that your ancestors will guide you. The trick to not stray from the path of righteousness is to listen to your heart but let your mind decide. Stay safe, Merlin, and take care of your mother for me." With those words, Balinor hugged Luella, kissed her lips, and disappeared into the night.

Uther didn't leave any stone unturned to search for the man he held responsible for his wife's death, but he never found him; it was like Balinor had dropped off the face of Earth.