Merlin rubbed his eyes in exhaustion. The conversation with Arctic Ink had drained him, each word echoing his own ignorance and self-doubt. With a resigned sigh, he stood to leave the Star! Barrel Disco, the weight of the evening pressing heavily upon him. As he exited through the pub's back door, the cool night air greeted him, bringing a moment of calm. There, leaning against the wall, was a familiar figure whose presence felt like a balm to his weary soul.
She wore a dark, elegant dress that hugged her figure, adorned with layered chains and intricate gothic details. A large ribbon tied around her waist added a touch of playful elegance, while her curly black hair, pulled back with a ribbon, framed her soft yet mysterious features. Her right eye was hidden beneath a heart-shaped eyepatch, adding a touch of that known enigma to her presence.
"Leaving so soon?" she asked, her voice cool yet serene. "Mr. Merlin?"
"Rose," he whispered, her name stirring memories he'd thought long buried. Her bright yellow eye met his, calm but distant, as a small, knowing smile curved her lips.
Once, they had been something close. But life, as it often does, had steered them down separate roads. Now, standing before him, she radiated an aura of quiet mystery that left Merlin at a loss for words. Yet, her presence, as always, softened the noise in his mind.
Merlin cleared his throat. "W-well, I mean, a party like this… it's no place for an old man like me these days," he chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "You know I'm not the type to be caught up in a crowd like that anymore."
Rose nodded slowly, turning her gaze back at the city lights in the distance. "No worries. I understand." There was a momentary pause between the both of them. The silence hung softly in the cool night air, weighted with old memories and unspoken words.
Shifting on his feet, Merlin felt uncertainty for a moment. He glanced at the street beyond where Rose's eye was fixated on, its quiet calmness offering some reprieve from the chaos inside the Star! Barrel Disco. His voice was hesitant when he spoke again.
"Well… since we're both out here," Merlin began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck again, "How about a stroll? Like old times?"
He offered her a small, uncertain smile, unsure how she'd respond. Part of Merlin had hoped she'd say yes, though another part worried it would bring up memories best left alone. But there was something in his heart, a flame that made him want to stay in her company, even if just for a while.
Rose turned her gaze back at Merlin, softened as with a hint of something unreadable flickering in her eye. She let the moment stretch before nodding once more, the corners of her lips curving just slightly.
"Alright," she said, her tone gentle but knowing. "A stroll does sounds nice."
Merlin, in a burst of excitement, pumped his fist and blurted, "Awesomesauce!" Immediately, he winced. That was definitely something he should've left unsaid. Bracing himself for an awkward reaction, he was instead met with a sound he hadn't heard in what felt like forever in his lifetime, a soft giggle.
He turns toward Rose, surprised to see her covering her mouth, holding in her laughter. "You said you were an old man," she teased, her voice light with amusement, "but you're still the same old you, idiot!"
Merlin chuckled awkwardly and shrugged. "Weeell, what can I say?" He then extended his hand towards her, a playful glint in his eyes. "Some things never change, right?"
Rose smiled and shook her head, collecting herself before slipping her hand into his. "Whatever you say, Merlin."
~
As they strolled through the city of Aldryean'ne, the nightscape enveloped them in a quiet embrace. Streetlights flickered with a soft amber glow, casting long shadows on the cobblestone streets. The distant hum of nightlife mixed with the occasional clatter of hooves and wheels, creating a serene contrast to the bustle of the pub.
For a while, neither of them spoke, content to let the gentle noise of the city fill the space between them. Merlin glanced at Rose from the corner of his eye, watching the way her gaze traced the familiar streets, her expression difficult to read but calm. Her presence, even after all these years, had a way of lighting up the darkest corners of the magus' mind.
"You ever just miss it?" Merlin asked, breaking the silence. His voice was softer now and almost reflective.
Rose glances at him, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. "Miss what?"
"Us. What we had. Or, what we almost had…" he trailed off awkwardly, regretting his words almost as soon as he said them.
She didn't respond right away, her steps slowing just a touch. The pause stretched between them, enough to make Merlin shift uncomfortably. But then, she let out a sigh—one not of frustration, but of a quiet understanding.
"Sometimes, I guess, but... as of now I don't actually know," she said, her voice calm but layered with a hint of sadness. "That was a long time ago, Merlin. And like you mentioned way back then, Leo'nux needed the Candleravens."
Merlin, as a knee jerk reaction, nodded, feeling a pang of guilt. "Y-yeah, I know I did," he muttered, stammering a little as he doesn't seem to quite remember saying that. Or so he thought? He then stuffed his hands into his pockets, glancing at the cobblestones beneath their feet. "Besides that, I mean, just to wonder, you know? What might've been."
Rose smiled faintly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's easy to get lost in those what-ifs, but there's really little to no point in dwelling on the past."
The simplicity of her words struck a chord in him. Merlin looked up at her, trying to read the emotions that played across her face. Despite what she said, there was something still a hint of something there, a distant connection, even if faint, that made him want to hold on a little longer.
His hands clenched into fists, but then he forced himself to relax, loosening his grip as his mind tried to piece together why she was saying all this. "Yeah… you're right," he said, his voice subdued, a hint of defeat creeping in. For now, he let it go, even though something inside him wasn't ready to.
They walked in silence again, this time a bit more distant than before. Merlin could feel the years between them slowly falling away, little by little. He pointed to an old, run-down bookstore that he thinks they used to frequent in the years back. "That place is still here?" he asked, a bit of awe in his voice.
Rose glanced at the building, "Still standing, somehow. Though I doubt it's as charming as it used to be."
Merlin chuckled softly. "Charming is one word for it. Remember how we'd sneak in there back then? You'd bury yourself in some obscure poetry while I tried to dig up a spell on resurrecting dragons?"
Rose hesitated for a moment, her brows knitting slightly. "I… don't remember ever going there with you, Merlin."
He blinked, startled by her words. "You don't?" His voice rose slightly, tinged with panic. "But I swear, we were holed up in there during that invasion—dodging blasts left and right, rain pouring down—wait…" He trailed off, suddenly slapping his forehead. "Oooooh, that must have been Charity helping us that day. Not you."
There was an awkward pause, with Merlin wincing visibly at his own mistake.
Rose let out a quiet sigh, her expression softening. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek, her touch light but comforting as she looked into his eyes with a warm, knowing smile. "It's alright, Merlin," she said, her voice as soothing as ever. "You've had a long day—probably just a little too much talking and reminiscing for one evening."
Merlin felt the guilt prick at his chest, her kindness only making it worse. "I'm really sorry, Rose," he muttered, his voice lowering. "It's not just that I'm tired, you see. Lately, my mind has been… slipping. Sometimes, it's like my memories are playing tricks on me."
Rose's gaze softened further, the warmth in her eyes shifting to something deeper—something sadder. She nodded, her voice quieter now. "I understand." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "You've been casting that spell for so long… maybe it's starting to wear on you. Maybe it's time to let it go, Merlin."
Merlin blinked, a flicker of uncertainty flashing across his face. He placed his hand over hers, holding it there as though her touch was keeping him grounded. "I don't…" He hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Rose gave him a knowing look, her smile tinged with both affection and concern. She didn't push, though. She held on to this moment for a bit, her hand still resting on his cheek, offering him the comfort he so desperately needed but wasn't ready to accept.
"But you do," she whispered, her voice almost too soft to hear. But Merlin heard her. He always did.
"You've got to let this go before it destroys you," she continued. "Please, Carrion."
Merlin's world paused for a bit. He was in a loss of words. Carrion. A word that describes a vile, rotting flesh? No. That wasn't it, not to him. That was a name. His name. The magus was feeling a bit foolish at the moment, his addled mind has been playing tricks on him for so long that he's even forgotten his real name.
Carrion. Carrion Slatter.
That's right. It was not Merlin, the Grand Magus of Time. Never.
Why was he still doing this? How long has this been going on? A thousand questions flooded Merlin's mind, his form slowly spiraling out of control from his panic. The magus' world suddenly seemed to convulse around him, his vision blurring into a whirlwind of chaotic colors and shapes.
The air crackled with erratic bursts of arcane energy, his once-stable magical aura now flickering like a dying flame. His hands trembled uncontrollably, prompting for Rose to immediately back away as well from him. The flow of Merlin's magic appeared to be breaking into jagged, unpredictable bursts. Each pulse of energy sent ripples through the air, distorting reality itself as if trying to escape his grasp.
His breathing grew ragged, each inhale sharp and desperate, as though he were trying to draw order from the tumultuous storm of his thoughts. His usually precise and controlled incantations devolved into a stuttering mess, the words escaping his lips in fragmented, incoherent bursts. The very essence of his magic, usually so graceful and harmonious, now writhed and twisted around him like a serpent trying to shed its skin.
He clenched his teeth, a grimace of determination etched into his features as he fought against the internal tempest. Each attempt to stabilize his magic was met with increased resistance, the forces within him rebelling like a tempestuous storm refusing to be quelled. His willpower, though strained, pressed forward, desperately clawing at the edges of sanity, striving to reassert control over the chaotic symphony of his magic.
In this volatile state, Merlin's mind battled against itself, struggling to tether his fractured identity and fractured magic back into semblance. His surroundings, once a familiar anchor, seemed to warp and dissolve under the influence of his disordered aura. Yet amidst the swirling chaos, the glimmer of his resolve flickered—a stubborn, unwavering light amidst the engulfing darkness.
After the dust has settled, the magus took a moment to catch his breath on what could've been a disastrous surge of wild magical energy, something that he's also been keeping at bay for so long. Assessing the situation before him, Merlin quickly scanned the vicinity for anything affected by his outburst. Everything in sight was evidently left untouched, that was until—
"Merlin..." Rose called out to him, her hand slightly scorched by Merlin's magical flames.
"By Saratoga," Merlin uttered urgently, rushing to Rose's side. He placed his hands over her injuries and began casting a potent healing spell, his fingers crackling with vibrant energy. An iridescent light erupted from his palms, enveloping her burnt hand in a warm, golden glow.
The light pulsed rhythmically, soothing the pain as it mended the injury. Intricate patterns of healing energy wove through the air, closing the burnt flesh with a gentle touch. As the golden light gradually faded, Rose's hand healed, leaving her skin smooth and restored. Merlin, breathing heavily but relieved, whispered, "I'm so sorry for this, Rose," Merlin said, his voice thick with regret as the last of his magic's glow faded. He held her hand tightly, his own trembling with the weight of his guilt.
"It's okay," Rose replied, avoiding his gaze, her voice barely above a whisper. "It was my fault anyway."
"No, don't say that," Merlin insisted, his voice cracking under the strain of his emotions. "You were only trying to help." He sank his head in shame, his grip on her hand tightening as if it could anchor him against the storm of his own making. "The fault is mine. I shouldn't have dragged you into this. It was a mistake."
Merlin paused tearfully, giving Rose one last look before verbalizing a component for one of his spells, "Transitus in Tenebris" he uttered in some ancient tongue. Instantly, the air around shimmered with an eerie, dark light. A ripple of shadows surged from his feet, expanding outward in a swirling vortex of darkness. In a heartbeat, the oppressive gloom engulfed the wizard, and with a sudden jolt, he vanished completely from sight, leaving no trace behind in the dimly lit world they had just left.
As the shadows receded, leaving the spot where Merlin had stood, Rose was left alone in the stillness once again. A profound emptiness settled in her chest, mingled with a gnawing sense of abandonment, a feeling she knows all too well. The sudden silence felt like a weight pressing down on her, amplifying the pain and confusion that swirled within her.
She let out a sigh, turning her gaze to the starless night above her with a single tear running down her eye.
"I'd take it all away," she sang by her lonesome, wiping the tear off her cheek, "I'd take it all away."
~
Back at his cottage, Merlin stumbled through his humble abode like a shadow of his former self, his movements erratic and clumsy. He knocked over books and trinkets, the chaos around him mirroring the turmoil within. His mind felt foggy, weighed down by an unbearable sadness. The thought of his moonlit walk with Rose now seemed a cruel irony; instead of a shared moment of nostalgia, it had only left her with a painful reminder of his failure—her hand still bearing the burn from his uncontrolled magic.
Memories of the evening churned in his mind like a toxic storm, each recollection twisting like a knife with the regret running deeper. As his emotions frayed, his magical aura flickered uncontrollably, his body trembling with the strain of holding his power at bay. Alone in his disarray, he let out a manic, hollow laugh, a sound that felt foreign coming from him. Finally succumbing to his fractured state, he unleashed a wave of violent magical energy, the raw, chaotic force tearing through the air with a feral intensity.
For a harrowing minute, Merlin's cottage was consumed by a tempest of raw magical energy, his suppressed power erupting like wildfire. Furniture, papers, and cherished trinkets were hurled through the air as the walls trembled under the strain. With a final, cataclysmic surge, Merlin unleashed a blinding wave of magic that seared through the room, leaving scorched air and shattered debris in its wake. Exhausted, he collapsed onto the floor, breath ragged, as the storm of his own making settled into a chaotic stillness.
As he lay on the floor, his mind began to clear, perhaps from the release of suppressed magical energy. Amidst the wreckage, he noticed a letter with the guild's raven emblem. With a labored effort, he crawled to it and sat back down, his weariness evident. He carefully inspected the letter, addressed to: Our Beloved Guild Meister.
Merlin buried his face in his hands, his voice muffled and filled with self-reproach. "I'm such an idiot."