The thing was ..... the world hadn't always been like this.
Evil sorcerers, witches, warlocks – angry magical creatures, you get it...
It wasn't always like this.

Uther Pendragon was the cause of all this misery. That was not a secret.
The pyre had been lit so many times – the ashes of innocent people distributed farther and wider than food over the lands.
The wind whispered the names of the forsaken who had been hung. For only the air to bear witness to their demise.
The water wailed at every drunken song of drowning children and the night covered the bodies of those who rotted in their cells. Too starved to live long enough to hear their own death sentence.

Feasts were held in honor of the soldiers who murdered the creatures that were born to bring beauty and balance to the world. Prices covered the castle walls. Heads of mighty creatures that protected the weak and the poor.

Love and kindness was dying in the land. With Uther at the head of the regime – hope was lost.

It was then, that magic had decided it needed a conscience. A mind that could save them all. And so it was born in form of a child.
A child who had never asked for this burden. A child who loved and cared and radiated magic.
But something went wrong.
And suddenly magic was dying. And it kept dying, because the purge was not over yet.

And with time – while the child kept spreading love and peace and kindness – everything around him still died.
Everything he was connected to, everything he was bound to save, craving for him, like for water in the desert. That is how starved the world was for him.
What do you think happens, when you are the oases that could safe the world? What happens, when even YOU start to believe you're nothing but an illusion?

-------------------------------------------------

Arthur and Merlin were about a mile from Ealdor, when Merlin broke down.
Arthur would later curse himself that he didn't notice it earlier. That he didn't notice immediately how Merlin fell to the ground.
A slight dumping sound the only warning Arthur had. He didn't have time to catch his friend.

He was barely fast enough to see Merlin's eyes flicker golden, before completely dying out.
The blue of his irises rolled up behind their eyelids, when Arthur finally managed to get to him.
"Merlin? MERLIN!", Arthur shouted.
He fell to his knees and tried to shake Merlin awake again.

When that apparently didn't do anything, he slapped him in the face.
"MERLIN! God DAMN it! Can you hear me?"
Rapid breaths, panic and fear and adrenaline filled Arthur's mind and heart. It stopped him from thinking clearly. Every sound in his ear suddenly numb, as all he could focus on was how pale Merlin looked.

How on EARTH hadn't he noticed sooner?
Just an hour ago he had been wondering how often Merlin was stumbling over roots again. He had dismissed it as Merlin's usual clumsiness, but maybe it had been a sign?
Maybe Arthur had just been to ignorant to notice?

Arthur tried to calm down. What was it that he was supposed to do in a situation like this?
Right – right....

He held three fingers to Merlin's neck. Hoping and praying that the heartbeat he felt wasn't his own. Because the adrenaline pumping inside his head told him that HE was clearly alive.
But Arthur didn't care about that right now.
Cursing under his breath, Arthur drew his sword and held it over Merlin's open mouth. And let out a relieved breath, when he could see the blank metal fog up slightly.

Arthur was far away from being a physician. And his mind was running wild with the different lectures Gaius should have given him or that Arthur didn't listen to.
He should go and call for help. But he wasn't allowed to leave Merlin behind.
Was it okay to pick him up? Or would that make it worse?!
Was he supposed to wait until Merlin woke up or stopped breathing or -

In a way – Arthur was lucky that Merlin only broke down now. If he had done so two days ago – there was no way Arthur could have picked him up and run – run into the next village.
Who cares if Arthur was supposed to run with Merlin over his shoulder?
It was one mile he had to run. And this was faster than leaving Merlin behind to die.

Arthur doesn't think he had ever managed to run this fast for so long in his entire life. With such heavy weight on his back too!
Not that he got enough oxygen into his brain to think anything other than: "Help! Help Merlin!"
He faintly noticed his legs bending under the weight, his own lungs begging and craving for air.
His rips and heart feeling like they might burst and his side was killing him too.
But eventually, after an eternity, the village came into sight.
And he could see Hunith from afar. Surprised to see him, but even more surprised to see and sense the utter panic in Arthur's face.

Thank god, Hunith was the village's most experienced healer.

"Arthur? What happened?", she asked, but in her voice, panic was rising too.

Arthur, still wheezing instead of breathing, couldn't find it in him to answer.
She seemed to recognize the symptoms though, as she saw Merlin draped over Arthur's shoulder, face ashen and apparently lifeless.
"Oh my - Come on, hurry, follow me.", Hunith as well, paled noticeably.
Even through the ashes that covered her face from all the hard work on the fields.

She lead the way into the house that Arthur recognized from their previous visit. Back when Merlin had called a tornado to fight of a couple of bandits.
Of course Merlin had denied that he called the tornado. And Arthur did intend to ask Hunith then and there, what the fuck was wrong with her child.
But he never to to it. He forgot, because Will was dying and Merlin was completely broken from the experience.
Many other towns people had died or been missed and Arthur's head was constantly busy helping to fix things everywhere. So.... it hadn't been the best time to ask yet.
Destiny loved being a puzzle sometimes.

Right now... was also not exactly the perfect moment.
But while Arthur finally let his weight go gently onto the kitchen table, which Hunith rapidly cleared by throwing everything to the ground that ever dared to be on top of it, he finally managed to catch his breath.
After running for so long, he hadn't managed to check for Merlin's pulse again, but miraculously he was still breathing.

As if in trance, he watched Hunith do almost exactly what he had done earlier as well.
She listened on to his breathing, checked his eyes under the eyelids -
And that's when Arthur saw the rapid golden flashes.
As if someone was covering and uncovering a candle in rapid speed.
(You know, like a turning a flashlight on and off again and again. But these are medieval times. For once I didn't forget about that. :) )

"What the hell?", Arthur asked through heaving breaths and the disgusting feeling of being hot and wet from exercise.
"You can say that again.", Hunith's eyebrows were frowned into worry.

"What's- what does this mean? Is he sick? Is his magic acting up? Are there magical illnesses, or -.... you have to tell me SOMETHING! Is he dying? Will he be okay?"
Even after a mile of running, Arthur's panic had still not calmed down. His adrenaline wasn't subsiding, and Merlin's body seemed to be getting restless too.

"Something like that.", Hunith bit her lip, merely trying to make sure that Merlin wouldn't fall from the table or feel uncomfortable.

"What does THAT mean?", Arthur couldn't help it, he was getting louder.
"It's – it's hard to explain..."
"Then DO something!"
"There is nothing I CAN do!", Hunith turned back to him. Full blown guilt and fear on her face.

Arthur's heart stopped. "You mean – he's going to die?"
It was too sudden. This couldn't be it. She must be mistaken. She MUST be!

"No. NO!", Hunith held up both her hands to calm Arthur down.
"It's his magic acting up. It's – it's - urgh. How long has he been like this?"

Arthur searched for something in her eyes. Something – anything that may tell him what the fuck was going on. "I don't know? He passed out and I ran here as fast as possible. I didn't think about anything, I just -", he bit his lip, staring at Merlin.
It bothered him a lot, that they weren't doing anything for him. At all.

Hunith took a deep breath. "I think you should sit down."

Arthur blinked. For a moment, he just stood there. Then, slowly, he grabbed for a chair that had fallen to the ground in all the hectic and sat down on it.
Hunith did the same and folded her hands into her lap, before addressing Arthur again.

"He's not dying. He's Emrys. He's immortal, he's not going to die in a long, long time.", she finally said and Arthur took a deep breath of relief, but also sudden dread. 'What do you mean, immortal?' He could feel a cough coming up. His throat felt dry and burning from the exercise.
Hunith noticed and handed him a flask of water.
"Then what is happening to him?"

Hunith looked down. "It's complicated."

"It's not getting less complicated, by not telling me.", Arthur fidgeted in his position and looked back at his unconscious best friend.

"Merlin is magic.", she began, causing Arthur to blink. He knew that already. However, he had been wondering, if HUNITH knew that. He only noticed now, that this had been a concern of his before. But Merlin's state had redirected his mind to more important questions.
Like : will he live? Which apparently .... Merlin will.

"The thing is – it's more than that. Everything that is magic is also connected to Merlin. Magical creatures, sorcerers, everything.
They give him life and power. And he gives the same in return.
When Uther started the purge, he killed thousands of magical creatures and witches and warlocks.
Magic always needed a safe haven, where it could be collected and distributed to the world again. Like a filter. A heart, if you want to call it that. To pump it back into the world like blood. It's an important cycle. Magic IS kind of like blood to the world.
Merlin here, he IS the heart. He keeps the cycle alive. Or rather, he should.

Everything magic goes through him. When a sorcerer dies, Merlin is the one who collects the magic. Until he can spread it out to the world again.
That's what he's supposed to do."
Arthur's eyes widened.
Hunith took a deep breath.

"Merlin never had any friends as a child. They were scared of his powers. He forced himself not to use them, so they would talk to him. Play with him. He kept denying he had magic ever since. Eventually he started believing that magic was just something other people talked about as a joke. To explain the unexplainable. I've tried reasoning with him many times. So did Will, so did all of us. But he always deflects it. He doesn't want this destiny. He doesn't want to be special. He just wants normal friends, a normal – temporary life.

So he kept everything to himself as much as he could, while growing up. He's convinced that this is normal. He DOES use magic here and there. But compared to all the magic in the world that is DYING at the same time, his little parlor tricks are no relief for the sheer mass on magic drawn to him.

At some point, THIS happened for the first time.", she pointed at Merlin. Who was still fidgeting, like he was having some kind of seizure.
Maybe that's what it was. His movements were small, but frantic and Arthur feared that any moment, he may fall of the table and hit his head on the cold stone floor.

"Uther has killed many people. And all the magic is building up inside of him. Without an outlet, he's loosing control over himself. He once blew up half the village.", she sighed painfully.

Arthur's head snapped back to her. "So you mean – he's a time bomb?"
Hunith smiled humorlessly.
"Kind of. But that's not the worst of it.", she took a deep breath.

Arthur tilted his head. What could be worse than THAT?
"Has your father ever mentioned to you how the farmers have less and less crops every year? How water is getting shorter?
Have you ever noticed how the people around you get meaner? More illnesses spread and people start hating each other more and more?
How many sorcerer's do you think were actually sorcerers? How many were accused innocently?
How much less children are born? How many more people die sooner than they should?"

Arthur had no answer to this. He shook his head. He never really... focused on any of this. He had been too busy with his own destiny. But now that she said it ... death rates had gotten higher. Birth rates decreased steadily over the years. And his father told them to keep their food in check more and more often...

"Have you ever heard of the saying 'miracle of life'?"

Arthur nodded slowly. This saying did sound familiar. It was often used, when a child was born. Which – he couldn't remember happening in a long time.
Now that he thought about it.... there was an awful lack of children in the entire kingdom. Even here, in Ealdor... he hadn't seen a child younger than ten years old. If at all.
"Life is magic too, Arthur. And just like magic, it is channeled through Merlin. As is love, as is – literally anything that makes you feel wonder and kindness and beauty.
Merlin isn't channeling any of it. He's -", she shook her head in shame.

"He's bottling it up.", Arthur said quietly.

"Yes. He must have reached the limit now. That's why he's like this. He will wake up again. He always does. But he needs to accept that he has magic.
He NEEDS to understand it! And you are the only one who can make him see sense.
Merlin is not going to die. But if he keeps this up, everything else is."