The Sorcerer Games

Chapter 6

The only terms that could describe what Merlin was feeling would be perturbed, distraught, troubled, and just generally worried. This "evaluation" was bothering Merlin more than he would of thought. The only thing he was good at was magic, and yet, he still didn't know all that he could do with his gift. He was supposedly the most powerful sorcerer to ever walk the earth, he heard that he could level mountains and destroy citadels but he couldn't help but think if that was really true. Was that just an over exaggeration? Will he grow up to be the almighty and powerful Emrys that Kilgharrah prophesied him to be?

Merlin rubbed circles on his temple with thin, pale fingers. Everything was just so overwhelming, especially this whole fight to the death thing. Now that he got some idea of what the King's motives were behind this game, even if it was just some rumor, he couldn't help but believe it just as much as Aiden did.

He thought about escaping, he really did. However, if what the King said was true than he wouldn't survive a day out there on his own unless he knew a teleportation spell, but that would involve a whole lot of sneaking and snooping around. He didn't think that he had any time to do that anyways, considering this place had plenty of powerful sorcerers who were so loyal to their king... According to Aiden.
But despite his soon to be attempts of escaping, he felt, deep down inside, that he actually wanted to stay. If it's true that only sorcerers from this kingdom win, then Merlin wanted to prove them wrong. He wanted to win. Another part of him thought it was actually a great opportunity to learn how to defend himself without magic. With Arthur always telling him how useless and pathetic he was, he longed to become better, to become stronger. It wasn't so bad here though, they were practically "nobleman" (another thing according to Aiden.) so that meant that he is going to be treated way better here than he was when he was a servant in Camelot right? Wait no. Not was, but is. He still is a servant, he still is Arthur's protector. Just because he wouldn't be around for eight months didn't mean that his job wasn't still in tact... he hoped.

The young warlock couldn't help but think about his manservant. He was so surprised to find out he was a Druid, but for some reason, he wasn't as surprised as he was about how the servant warmed up to him so fast. Too fast. It was, well, strange.

He snapped out of his thoughts when he bumped into something.

"Hey!" An angry looking guy screeched, his eyes burning holes in Merlin's skull. "Are you blind!"

"I- I apologize, I wasn't watching where I was going." Merlin answered back pathetically.

The young man scoffed. "No, you weren't, but I shouldn't really blame you. With someone as weak and pitiful as you, you were probably thinking about how your not going to last even a minute in the games. I pity you." His expression was sorrowful, but Merlin didn't miss the amused glint in his eyes.

He was just about to retort back when an even stronger, more commanding voice, beat him to it.

"Lord Convoy, control your sorcerer."

The warlock couldn't help but be relieved that Mason had stuck up for him, but he also couldn't help but feel that it sounded as if they were some sort of property.

The man apparently named Lord Convoy, turned a murderous glare onto his sorcerer.
"Zylen," he growled, causing the young man to abruptly turn around. "Do not talk unless spoken to."

Zylen gulped, "yes sir."

When that was taken care of, Merlin took the chance to observe his surroundings. They were in a long hallway, looking as normal as any other corridor in this forsaken underground part of the castle. There were about six sorcerers ahead of Merlin, with their trainers which stood beside them, in a long line behind a big steel door. It seemed as if all of them were nervously fidgeting. That seemed to make Merlin feel a little better knowing he wasn't the only one who felt this way.