His Mage

One

A new story to celebrate the new year! Happy 2022 everyone!

Thank you for taking a chance on a new story. I really hope you enjoy it!

Happy Reading!

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She had a name, but it had been over a decade since anyone had used it. The last person to speak it had been her mother, right before she died. There was power in that, and as a result she hadn't used her name since that day.

Shortly thereafter, the only other people in the world who knew her name had died as well. Leaving her and her current traveling companion as the only people in the entire world, the entirety of existence, who knew who she had once been. It stood to reason then, if no one knew her, was she even that person anymore?

It was a question she had considered often in the long years of seemingly endless travel. She would catch herself musing on it as she stared silently into a small roadside fire where they rested for the night. She would think on it as they wandered the lonely roads back and forth across the upper reaches of the Frankish empire and through the lands of the Saxons and even down into Gaul, fleeing the Mage purges of England.

Her traveling companion was also her teacher, a powerful Mage most people called Merlin. Although she very much doubted that was his real name. She had asked him once, when she was still a little girl. He had laughed off her question, but the hard look in his eyes had convinced her to never ask again.

Names had power and it was unlikely such a powerful Mage would allow his to be so freely given. It was the reason Merlin had called her Apprentice since the time he took her under his wing. As though he understood, he never once had he referred to her by her name since the night she lost her mother. Anyone they encountered over the years had referred to her as nothing but Mage, and so she embraced it as her entire identity. Her role as a Mage, and learning the craft from Merlin, consumed her until it became all she was.

Despite their nomadic lifestyle, she and Merlin were as much in hiding as the rest of the Mages. Originally from England, after the battle against Mordred and Vortigern's Mage purges, Merlin had taken to traveling the old Roman roads. Doing right in the world, as he liked to say, but there was little safety to be found even outside of England. Christianity was spreading and with it came a distrust of strangers and hatred of magic.

She followed her Master, learning all she could from him. They helped other Mages when they could be found, but it was quickly becoming painfully obvious there weren't that many left. Or if there were, they had taken to hiding from their own kind in addition to the strangers who threatened them. Not that she blamed them, her own family had been victims of Mordred's reign of terror. No one from her clan had survived the purges that followed.

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It was a cold spring night and they were sleeping beside another nameless road on their way south to Gaul. It had been hard going. The spring thaw had turned the road to mud and even their horses were struggling. Rumors had reached them of a small group of Mages settled near the city of Lyon. Merlin had been interested to find out if they were also refugees from England.

Merlin woke suddenly in the middle of the night, bolting upright on his bedroll. The old man had prophetic dreams often and after two decades on the road together, the Apprentice knew to allow her Master his space. He would speak of it only if, and when, he was ready. This one was different however. Rather than meditating on it as he usually did, Merlin shot to his feet and immediately began packing in the dim light from the smoldering fire.

"Master?" she asked, pushing herself up onto her elbows to peer across the fire. The night air was chill outside her blankets and she reached for her cloak. Nearby she could hear the quiet movements of their horses.

She raised her eyes to the trees above them. Resting on a large branch was her eagle companion. She had dutifully followed them on their travels the last ten years since The Apprentice found the eagle as a chick abandoned. She hand raised the large raptor and it had followed her ever since. She briefly connected with the bird, using it's eyesight to search for any possible threats nearby that may have cause Merlin's outburst. When she didn't seen any she pulled back from the bird and turned to the old man.

"We must leave," Merlin said urgently.

"Now?" The Apprentice asked.

Merlin blew out a sharp, impatient breath through his nose. As he often did when she wasn't listening particularly well. Recognizing it was best not to push him when his temper was so short, The Apprentice climbed to her feet and started packing her things with no further argument.

Deciding enough silence had passed she spoke up. "Where are we going?" she asked as she tied her bedroll to the back of her horse's saddle.

Merlin climbed aboard his small black mare, picking up the reins. "We must go North," he said.

"North?" she asked in disbelief. They had spent most of her life in the Frankish Empire. Occasionally, they would make small trips into other lands, but the Franks, despite the growing christianity, hadn't turned on the mages yet. "We've been traveling south for weeks to get to Lyon."

"Yes," Merlin agreed. "Lyon will have to wait." He groaned as he pulled his old body up on the small horse. He patted the mare and waited while his Apprentice swung gracefully up on her horse.

Her mount was younger and more spirited, but the Apprentice quieted the animal with a few whispered words. Her power was at its strongest with animals and she held a deep connection to the earth.

"It's time," Merlin told her cryptically.

"Time?" The Apprentice asked as she turned her horse to follow Merlin who led the way back to the road. "Time to go where?" she asked, still miffed she had been awakened in the middle of the night with no explanation just to retrace their steps. It had taken them weeks to get this far south.

Merlin turned back to his Apprentice. The moonlight glistened off his wild white hair and there was a knowing smile twisting his wizened face.

"To Camelot."

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