Merlin: Running

In which very bad men arrive.

Merlin

The paltry trick with light did not so much involve insinuating new light into the ceiling as it did taking light that was already there and spreading out a bit, like buttering bread. The boy seemed impressed enough though, and I was certainly not going to explain my parlor tricks, lest I found myself in an outcome where he chose to run. 

I couldn’t have that, now could I? I have to guide him, lead him. Train him.

Show him.

Unfortunately, I still had no idea what he looked like. First, I met him in the dark, then I turned my back on him and led him out. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this, and it would be terrible if I turned around to study his face in mid-stride. So there we were, him plodding along behind me like the pup he is, and me, well, shuffling. I would say I have a decent shuffle. I knew it was him though. I could smell excalibur’s power, a raw musk of Avalos’ gift stretching out and away from us in every direction, raising hairs on the back of my neck and skull. I could sense its destiny slowly take hold of its master, the boy, and shape his world forever into the night. 

I led him out of the building where our means of conveyance awaited. 

“What is that? Is that a…That,” noted the boy, “is a taxi-bike.”

I replied, “They are called rickshaws, Arthur.” I would have given him a pointed stare, but that is when one of my runes, placed several blocks out, tripped. It told me that someone was coming, someone with the intention of killing the once and future king.

This perturbed me. I had been making the part about assassin’s coming up to coax him into the bleeding rickshaw. I breathed out a sigh.

“Get in, boy.” 

“Oh, now it’s boy again, is it?”

“Yes, now get in the cart or you will, in all likelihood, get shot while you tarry,” I remarked, climbing myself into the back. It only took one gunshot to convince him to get in. He put himself beside me, looking frightened. It was still too black for me to see him, which annoyed me. Then, the second shot blasted out and a moaning engine led by headlights came into view. 

“Go! Onward, you junk heap!” I shouted at the rickshaw. The rickshaw hurtled forward, my magic pounding away at its peddles faster than any pair of legs could hope to match. 

Reviews

[kersee9]

Hi there :) This is an interesting piece of lit and I enjoyed your wit. My only problem with it is the run-on sentences. If I were you, I'd look for ways to break those longer sentences up while preserving the witty banter quality of the writing. An Oxford comma here and there wouldn't hurt a thing. I hope this is positive feedback in your eyes. Keep writing, you are very talented!

[Coyote Poetry]

I learn a few new words in this chapter. Poor Arthur is on a wild trip. A short chapter. A very good chapter.
Coyote