Training

"Merlin! Wake up, yeh! I need to go run some errands for yeh uncle, and yeh need to come with me!" yelled Uther, tossing a tunic at Merlin. It had been almost a year since Merlin had arrived in Atlantis, and he had grown used to his uneventful life.

 

Groggily, Merlin turned around, burying his head under the covers. Seconds later, he was drying off with a towel, while Uther was laughing on the floor so hard, Merlin thought he might burst a kidney.

 

"It's not that funny!" Merlin said defiantly, albeit with a smile on his face.

 

Uther managed to get few words out in between the tears of laughter, those being, "You shoulda seen the look on yeh face!" followed by more laughter.

 

Merlin swung his tunic at Uther, then grudgingly put it on, gathered his things, and began to head out with a recovering Uther, and a grinning Shiroix. As Merlin found out upon his coming to Atlantis, Shiroix had become a part of the family, yet, no one knew how. It was almost as if he had been meant to be with Merlin, Aithne, and Blaise.

 

"You shut up," Merlin said to Shiroix, pointing a finger at him.

 

When Uther had finally managed to calm down sufficiently enough, he started to read the list.

 

"Alright, so Blaise wants me to go find him some books and animal parts, while yeh two work on something much more valuable.

 

"What is that?" Merlin and Shiroix asked simultaneously.

 

"Yeh two are gonna go to the training grounds."

 

Both of them complained, but when Uther bent down to scoop up some of the water from the ocean beside them in his bucket, their mouth magically stopped running.

 

Within twenty minutes, the trio was at the training grounds, and Uther was talking to someone.

 

"So Blaise told me that he wanted me to take these two to the training grounds for a couple of hours while I run his errands. He told me to put these two in the care of someone called Geoffrey. Do yeh know him?"

 

The man Uther was speaking to, a clean shaven man with red hair wearing full armor over a purple robe, replied to Uther slowly as he turned around to face Uther. "Yes, I think I might know him. How may I help you?"

 

It took a few minutes for Uther to register that this was the man he was looking for, and when he did, he violently grasped the man's small hand, and pumped it up and down quite rapidly.

 

"I'm Uther, third born son of King Constantine II of Britannia, brother to the true heir of the realm, Aurelianus Ambrosius," Uther introduced himself.

 

"Quite the name you have," said the small man, rubbing his arm, "I'm Geoffrey of Monmouth Shire, one of the three Council members."

 

"Council?" said Uther inquiringly.

 

Geoffrey put on a pained smile before answering. "The Council is the governing body of the political network that sustains the delicate structure of the Wizards of Atlantis."

 

Seeing the uncomprehending look on Uther's face, Geoffrey simplified his definition. "The three people who are the kings that the people choose."

 

Uther understood that much, as was clarified by his, "Ah."

 

"Well then," continued Geoffrey, "Since you two are here to train, I will show you each to your instructors. We will be seeing you, Uther."

 

Uther tried to persist, but lost quickly with a quick wave of Geoffrey's hand. Neither Merlin nor Shiroix know how Geoffrey did it.

 

Geoffrey began introductions. "Let's get to know one another, shall we? Indeed, let's. I am Geoffrey. And you two are…?" said Geoffrey, leaving Merlin and Shiroix to finish.

 

"Shiroix," said Shiroix.

 

"Merlin," said Merlin.

 

"Alright boys," said Geoffrey, placing a hand on each of the boys' backs, "Here in the training grounds we have several methods of training, which are swordplay, archery, axe throwing, and spell casting. You two are too young for spell casting, so you will be instructed in the other three, each with an expert in the craft."

 

"Who are the experts?" Merlin asked.

 

"You'll see," was Geoffrey's smiling reply. Merlin had a feeling he would regret this training.

 

After some walking, Geoffrey stopped with Merlin and Shiroix at the swordplay area of the training grounds. Then he picked up a sword and told Merlin and Shiroix to do likewise.

 

"You will both attack me," instructed Geoffrey, "and you will have no mercy. I am a Dark wizard, and you must slay me."

 

Without warning, Geoffrey struck at Merlin with lightning speed, who was able to successfully block the blow, paying for it with the loss of his balance. He toppled over, and was at Geoffrey's mercy.

 

"If I had been a Dark wizard, you would've been dead by now. Work on your swordsmanship. Now it's your turn Shiroix."

 

Shiroix did not waste any time. He immediately struck Geoffrey, who blocked the over hand blow, only to find it was a feint, and Shiroix was actually attacking his left side. Geoffrey quickly moved his sword to block Shiroix's blade, only to find that when Shiroix's sword struck his own, his went flying due to the angle of which it was hit.

 

"Impressive boy. Keep working and perhaps we'll have to send you to the military."

 

Shiroix sent Merlin a smug look. Before Merlin could reply, Geoffrey was up again and taking them to the next division of the training grounds, the archery range.

 

Waiting for them at the archery range was an elf. He stood tall, about six and a half feet, with his hands laced behind his back and a smile that said, "Welcome. I will crush you like a bug if you don't work hard."

 

"Hello, King Envok!" said Geoffrey, holding out his hand to the elf.

 

The elf took notice of the hand and gripped it firmly. He shook it up and down twice, and released his grasp.

 

Geoffrey pulled his hand away hastily and rubbed it gently. Then, noticing others were watching, he quit nursing himself and introduced Merlin and Shiroix to Envok.

 

"Sire, this is Merlin and this is Shiroix. They are here to learn from four masters, of which you are the second."

 

A mischievous gleam came into Envok's eyes. "Whom was the first master? Surely not you; you can barely withstand a handshake!"

 

Geoffrey's face turned a bright red, followed by stomping off and muttering to himself.

 

Envok laughed. "Ah, I always love to do that. I'm sure he'll try to come up with something tonight that I'll see right through and only embarrass himself further. Anyhow, I will be your archery instructor for the next few years, and if you do good enough we may even have one on one sessions and I may teach you in other arts as well. Come along now."

 

Envok waked hastily to an open target, and handed Merlin and Shiroix each a bow and a quiver of twenty arrows.

 

"Your goal," said Envok, "Is to get every last one of your arrows through any sign of danger. If there is none, you will aim for the centre of the target. Go."

 

Merlin barely had time to string his bow before seven wooden figures sprung up. He madly strung the bow and began aiming at each of the targets. He hit two in the head, which fell down, hit three where the heart would've been, and missed one. Of course, that still left one, which was shot down by Shiroix.

 

Merlin surveyed what Shiroix had accomplished with his targets. Every figure had been hit, right between the eyes just above the bridge of the nose. Shiroix had also hit a robber who had thought it would be safe enough to run past the entrance to the archery range, hit Merlin's last target, and shot the rest of his arrows into the centre of his target.

 

"Very good," said Envok, "You both did very well. Shiroix, you managed to hit all the targets and a few bonus. Merlin, you only managed to hit five, all in varying places. So overall, you did better."

 

"What?" asked Merlin and Shiroix simultaneously.

 

"Yes, Merlin did better," confirmed Envok, then explained, "You see, Shiroix, while you hit all the targets, you did not innovate, you only hit the targets. You also hit two objects which you were not instructed to do so, which more often loses a battle than wins it. Merlin, however, you shot two arrows into each target, slightly apart from each other, and you did not hit all the targets. Therefore, you have room for improvement, which is always a good thing."

 

Needless to say, both Merlin and Shiroix were surprised at Envok's answer.

 

"Moving on," shouted Envok, walking hastily away towards the ax-throwing range. Merlin and Shiroix had to run to keep up.

 

When Merlin and Shiroix saw Envok again, they noticed he was talking to a dwarf of small stature. Well, all dwarves have small stature, but this one was smaller than the rest. He had a red hair, and full beard, which was typical of a dwarf.

 

The dwarf threw his hands up in the air and stomped towards Merlin and Shiroix. "Never seek help from an elf," said the dwarf in a very deep voice, much the kind one would expect a dwarf to have, "Yer only will embarrass yer self."

 

Merlin and Shiroix looked at each other curiously, both knowing what the other was thinking. Then the dwarf spoke. "So yer two must be Merlin and Shiroix, no need to tell meh who's who, I alre'dy know. Now, I here am Prince Anthon II of th' Sev'nth Royal Dwarf Family."

 

"Um…" Merlin and Shiroix both mumbled simultaneously. They both found it very hard to understand the dwarf, who's accent was even thicker than Uther's.

 

Prince Anthon calmly explained. "Yer see here, there are sev'n dwarf families who cun ascend teh th' throne. I b'long teh one of them. Compendo?"

 

Both Merlin and Shiroix nodded their heads while they mentally deciphered what Anthon had just said.

 

"Ah'right now, so I'll beh teachin' yer how teh axe throw. Very usefel. So get teh it!"

 

"How do we do it?" asked Merlin.

 

"What? Yer don't know how to throw an axe?"

 

"No…" said Shiroix slowly.

 

"Well it's very simple. Yer hold the hand'l, yer bring it back, yer bring it for'd, and yer let 'er go. Now start throwin'!"

 

Hesitantly, Merlin and Shiroix started throwing axes at a square target several yards away, taking them from a rack on the wall. Meanwhile, Anthon leaned on his axe, watching Merlin and Shiroix. Once the rack was empty, he started laughing.

 

"What's so funny?" asked Shiroix, his face turning red.

 

"Yer two throw like elves!" said Anthon, quaking with laughter.

 

Calming down, Anthon explained further. "It's somethin' only a dwarf would u'derstand. Yer see, we dwarves and them elves has some riv'ry, and dwarves pride thems self on bein' better axe throwers."

 

"I see," said Shiroix, his arched eyebrows showing he really didn't.

 

"So an'how, yer two are done trainin' for the day, yer free to go, blah, blah, blah, no 'un cares, get a move on, I'll see yer two termorrow."

 

Merlin and Shiroix began walking hesitantly, then faster when Anthon picked up an axe.

 

Unsure where they should go, they started moving towards home. It was only midday, and Uther hadn't been given specific instructions by Blaise. At least, none that Uther had told Merlin and Shiroix.

 

"It's him!", "Merlin!", "The Victor!", were only a few of the things that Merlin and Shiroix heard as they walked down the streets. Usually the people shut their mouths when Merlin looked around, making him think he was hearing things.

 

"Shiroix?" started Merlin.

 

"Yes, I hear them too," Shiroix said as if he had read Merlin's mind. Sometimes Merlin wondered if Shiroix could. It most certainly would explain a great deal. "Perhaps if we ignore them they'll go away."

 

As Merlin and Shiroix soon found out, Shiroix's theory was flawed. Ignoring them only made them more aware of their presence, which was quite odd.

 

"Excuse me sire," said a little boy, tugging on Merlin's shirt, "How did you kill Vortigern?"

 

Merlin, naturally, was stunned. For years his life had been a solitary, quiet life. He and his mother had rarely spoken to one another, and there had been no one else to talk to. Now here he was as some sort of idol to these people.

 

"Um, well actually, I didn't kill Vortigern," confessed Merlin. The onlookers' expressions immediately changed to one of disbelief and disappointment.

 

"You didn't!" whined one boy, his eyes so believing and innocent.

 

"No, I didn't. I only fought him, and he got away," said Merlin, turning in a small circle to find to his surprise that he was encircled, not only by children, but also adults.

 

"Yes dearies, Vortigern got away, but Merlin will get him next time," said one of the mothers in the audience to her children.

 

"No, no, you don't understand," started Merlin.

 

"Tell us how you showed old Vortigern Merlin!" screamed a little girl in the outer audience.

 

The scream became a chant, and Merlin looked for Shiroix for help.

 

"Don't look at me," Shiroix said in a matter of fact tone, a grin spreading across his smug face, "I never get tired of this tale. How the great Merlin got himself locked in a dungeon for a night, and what's more, was nearly executed."

 

Merlin had no choice but to give in.

 

"Alright, alright, settle down. I'll tell you the story," Merlin said, his hands raised in surrender. The response was a cheer from the little ones.

 

"So here goes…"

 

***

 

Merlin's story took a while, as many questions were asked, but eventually he was through. By the time he was done, it was almost supper time.

 

"Since when did you single handedly kill a hundred men?" asked Shiroix casually on the walk home, "That's a part I haven't heard before."

 

"Oh like you wouldn't exaggerate it," replied a grinning Merlin.

 

Shiroix appeared to think about this one. "You know, you have a point."

 

Before too long, the twosome reached Blaise's house. Inside, a messenger was arguing with Blaise, who was sitting on his counter eating and apple. Beside him was Uther and on his other side was Aithne.

 

"No, he is not going, and that is final! Now be gone with you!" said Blaise, giving the messenger a face full of chewed apple.

 

"Who's not going where?" asked Merlin out of curiosity.