Merlin was winding through the whirlpool of commerce, sin and decadence that was the bazaar, making his way toward the palace gates. "Here they are," a seller of swords was saying, "the finest steel in the land . .. You can't get respect in Qarth without a quality blade on your hip!"
Merlin ignored all such come-ons in the main square, where one could buy anything from damask to damsels; he strode single-mindedly toward the citadel that was Memnon's palace. Finally he stood, hands on his hips, looking up at the heavily armed red turbaned guards walking the ramparts, guarding the gates of this imposing structure, half castle, half fortress. And just as he was studying the lay of the land, a brood of street urchins manifested itself out of nowhere—the youngest ragamuffin might have been six, the oldest no more than ten, a blur of dirty faces and nimble feet, swirling around him, stirring dust. "Guide, sir?" one said. "You need a guide, sir," said another.
'To find your way in Qarth, sir," yet another bleated. Merlin knelt and summoned the leader of the smudged-faced flock with a curl of a finger. "You, lad—are you a smart enough guide to show me a way into the palace?"
Dark eyes glittered in the dirty, dark face. "A smart guide wouldn't, sir—or he'd get a tour ... of Lord Memnon's dungeon!" The little gaggle of urchins laughed like magpies, and Merlin was smiling at them when one alongside him sneaked in and, in a flash of steel, cut the pouch of rubies from the Merlin belt!
Merlin was nonchalantly followed and watched as the culprit sprinted off, and Mathayus raced right after him; but those urchins tagged along, laughing, running, catching up with the boy who'd snagged the pouch and—in a dazzling display of misdirection—began to hand the booty off between themselves, until it was impossible for people to tell which boy had wound up with the rubies.
Merlin chuckled and used pursued one of the little brigands, winding through stalls, upending carts and tables of fruit and vegetables.
As the small thief hid in an alley, clutching the stolen trinket in his trembling hand, a sudden ripple in the air caught his attention. Before he could react, there was a quick blur of motion, and it seemed as if the very fabric of reality itself was vibrating around him.
Then, in the blink of an eye, Merlin appeared before him.
Before the boy could react, he was is suddenly levitated off his feet and brought up to eye level with Merlin.
Merlin grins and wags a finger at the boy"Tch, tch, tch..."
The child smiled, sheepishly, and held out his hand... proferring the precious pouch, while saying"You can do magic?"
Merlin took his property back replied,"I can.",
Merlin's slowly put the boy down, while his hard gaze instructing him not to run. After Merlin had again tied the pouch to his belt, he gripped the urchin's jaw in one hand, prying it open, and reached the fingers of his other hand in ... to withdraw a ruby. The child shrugged and grinned. Couldn't blame a boy for trying, right?
Merlin grinned back at him and held up the glittering jewel, he already had an idea about how to get inside palace, but decided to give the boy a chance.
The Boy asked,"Can you teach me how use magic?"
Merlin can tell the boy had small level of magical blood flowing through his veins, she he smiled and replied,"I can teach you, but what is your name boy."
The boy nodded enthusiastically answered,"My name is Dastan."
Merlin glanced back tellingly at the looming palace. "Then I hope you're a ready for some adventure. We are going to enter Memnon's palace..."While Dastan was surprised, he nodded.
Merlin with the Dastan walked through the palace like nothing, none of the guards noticed there presence.
They soon ventured into a garden, the setting sun bouncing off the marble pathways leading to a small central arena. Where Memnon holds two quarter staff and faces off with an masters.
The Asian master also holds two staffs
Memnon charges at him, spinning the staffs in a remarkable display of martial skill. He disarms and strikes down the
man.the surrounding courtiers clap delightedly.
In archer pulls a bow from a large, ornately carved archery weapons cache -- a wooden box filled with various bows Memnon throws the staffs to the side where they are retrieved by two slaves.
The muscular, trim-bearded archer withdrew a formidable bow from a large, ornately carved wooden weapons box, in which numerous arrows and bows resided. Lord Memnon tossed away the two staffs, which were quickly retrieved and carried off by a pair of slaves, and walked to the center of the garden courtyard. He stretched his arms wide, as if welcoming a loved one. Then, slowly, he drew his hands together, arms stiff, until his open palms were separated by perhaps a foot, held out directly in front of his chest. The warlord's gaze locked with that of the archer.
The courtiers were gasping, murmuring among themselves, marveling, and fearful. The Great Teacher's outstretched arms formed a virtual pathway for the archer's arrow! Could Lord Memnon possibly intend to... He did so intend. The warlord held his position, just as his eyes held those of the archer, who drew back his bow.
The red-turbaned guards and the audience of courtiers were struck dumb, awed by the daring of their lord and master. Memnon nodded ... ... and the archer let fly!
Merlin was not surprised as be saw the unblinking Memnon snap his hands shut and catch the arrow, inches from a breastplate that would not have sufficiently shielded the warlord's heart. The Great Teacher nodded to the archer, who returned the gesture, but deeper, as the courtyard rang with applause.
Merlin muttered,"He is talented warlord, pity he is a bloodthirsty tyrant."
While he soon led Dastan away from the garden,he soon spotted a small entry in a tower at his path's dead end. In the corridor beyond, he hustled along, and the first door he came to, he shouldered open, and thrust himself inside. He shut the door and lowered the wooden beam— which had thankfully not been in place— that secured it. Then, breathing hard, he turned and took in his surroundings, and strange surroundings they were indeed.
Merlin dispelled the repelling magic and looked around. He had never seen the like of what he could not recognize as a primitive but prophetic laboratory, scattered with strange, imaginative inventions that centuries from now would have been worthy of da Vinci; the largest of these was a weapon Merlin did not recognize, because it had only recently been invented (by the chamber's occupant): a large wooden catapult. On rough wood-slab tables bubbled and burbled various potions and mixtures, brewing colorfully over a series of oil lamps. The chemical smells that permeated the modest chamber.
Merlin's keen eyes caught sight of a figure hunched over a cluttered workbench. It was Philos, the court magician of Memnon, shrouded in tattered yet dignified robes, his weathered face illuminated by the flickering light of an alchemical brazier.
As they entered, the air crackled with the energy of Philos' arcane experiment. With a sudden start, Philos turned towards them, his eyes wide with surprise, the wrinkles on his face deepening in concern, as he questioned,"Good Lord! Are you going to k*ll me?"
Merlin looking around shook his head and replied,"No, we are looking for the Sorcereress."
Philos hummed in understanding went back to his experiment and said,"Memnon's always threatened to have my head."
Philos could tell from from the man's white hair, he was Valyrian descendant or even a pure Valyrian. So he questioned,"Who are you?"
While looking around, Dastan answered,"He is famous wizard Merlin."
Philos looked at Merlin in awe and muttered,"I have heard tales of your deeds, Knowledge and skills, I wanted to meet you for a long time."
As Dastan's curiosity led his gaze to a small bowl with black sand, Alexander recognized as gun powder.
The bowl filled with gunpowder, with a central ladle that spins clockwise. This spinning action serves a dual purpose: it mixes the gunpowder to ensure an even consistency, and it also gradually pushes the powder down into a secondary bowl below.
The spinning ladle in the bowl serves as a sort of primitive centrifuge, separating the fine gunpowder particles from any potential impurities or larger granules that might be mixed in. By pushing the refined gunpowder into a secondary bowl, it ensures that only the purest powder is used.
As Dastan was about to touch it, Philos's hand swiftly intercepted, halting his advance with a stern warning. "Don't touch that," Philos admonished firmly.
Intrigued, Dastan persisted, his voice laden with curiosity. "What is that?"
Philos's response was cryptic yet laden with significance. "That's my special magic powder," he declared.
Dastan's confusion was palpable as he echoed the words, "Magic powder?"
With a solemn nod, Philos delved into an explanation, his words carrying the weight of both promise and peril. "Indeed, magic powder. It hails from a Yi Ti formula, obtained through considerable effort and expense. Mastered correctly, it has the potential to move mountains, clear pathways in an instant, and achieve wondrous feats." His expression darkened ominously. "Or, in the wrong hands, it could wreak havoc and devastation. Like all my creations, Memnon used for war."
Merlin observed the exchange with a knowing smile, acknowledging Philos's ingenuity despite the grave implications of his invention. Also, Yi Ti has been closely guarding the secrets of making gun powder since its discovery, also because of the demon invasion that attacks Yi Ti every 200 years, thus Yi Ti is mostly closed to other, only a small percent is able to gain access to Yi Ti and even they don't know the truth about everything that happens in Yi Ti.
[A/N:This is slight foreshadowing of The Great Wall movie plot, with Yi Ti replacing China.]
So Merlin questioned"What if you had the opportunity to escape?" he posed the question.
Without hesitation, Philos affirmed his decision. "I would seize it," he declared resolutely.
Merlin nodded solemnly, his eyes glinting with determination as he conjured a swirling vortex of magical energy, forming a portal to his castle where Melisandre awaited. "You can escape through this portal," he directed his gaze towards Philos, "if you explain the situation to the woman on the other side, she will provide you sanctuary."
Dastan's eyes widened with excitement and determination. "I want to go too! I want to learn magic!" he exclaimed eagerly.
A warm smile graced Merlin's lips as he regarded the young man's enthusiasm. "Very well," he agreed, his voice tinged with encouragement. "Go with Philos for now. We will meet once again, after I secure the Sorceress."
With a determined nod, Philos swiftly gathered his essential designs and gears, his movements purposeful and resolute. Dastan, brimming with anticipation, nodded in agreement as they stepped forward, crossing the threshold of the portal into an uncertain yet promising future.