“At least you had the decency to make coffee,” she said, as she poured herself a large cup, adding milk and hastily drinking it. She had learned that she didn’t often get the chance to finish a warm cup of coffee at the hospital unless she did this. And it had become somewhat of a ritual for her. She poured a second cup and sat across from Merlin at the kitchen table. As soon as she did, he clicked off his tablet and set it down in front of him.
“What do you know about magic?” he asked.
“That Voldemort is evil and must be defeated,” she smirked.
“How terribly funny,” Merlin said, in a well-practiced deadpan.
“I thought we had already established that I knew nothing,” Elaine took several gulps of coffee.
“I was hoping that after a day's reflection,” Merlin said, his eyes never leaving her, “that you had perhaps remembered something.” She shook her head. “Magic is…” he paused to think, his eyes drifted down to his tablet, “magic is like the internet.”
“Not following,” she shook her head.
“These days,” Merlin continued, “The internet is everywhere. In our homes, our coffee shops, hospitals, in our pockets,” he pulled his cell phone from his pocket, placing it next to the tablet on the table. “It’s always there, only waiting to be directed how we wish it to be.”
“Ok,” Elaine said, trying to keep her judgment out of her tone. She still didn’t believe it. She didn’t believe that after centuries of scientific study that ‘magic’ had never been discovered either by accident or design. She was certainly having a hard time with the idea that magic was real. “So, then like the internet, there is a proper way to word things.”
“Correct,” Merlin said, his eyes dancing in delight. “If you simply type in 'fire' to an internet search, you get millions of different possible results, none of which are correct. If you type in ‘how do I start a campfire’ you get the results you are looking for, much quicker. Words have power, the power to affect the world around you. Names have power, even more than words.”
“All right,” Elaine sighed. “That explains how it works, not how I make it work. I can’t just say, ‘slightly toast that bread’.” she said pointing at her bread in front of her. Merlin’s jaw tightened.
“What do they call what you do?” he asked.
“What?” she glared.
“As a doctor,” Merlin prompted. “You…” he trailed off waiting for her to finish his sentence.
“Practice medicine,” she offered.
“Precisely,” Merlin said. “The operative word, being practice. You will practice magic. Learn how to get in touch with that small part of you that can feel the magic, and we will work from there.” Merlin stood, his chair scraping as he did. “Outside.” He said as he left the kitchen. Elaine laid her head on the table.
“It’s going to be a really long day,” she said to the empty kitchen.
Chapter Seven
It had been hours.
Hours of failure.
“No, no,” Merlin said. “You need to focus on your power. You have to feel it coursing through you.”
“This is hopeless, Merlin,” Elaine shouted. She found the whole endeavor ridiculous. She didn’t ‘feel’ anything. Merlin kept insisting that she had to focus on what she felt was different about her, but she didn’t feel any different than she had before all of this. She was still the same old Elaine Lakeport.
“It’s not hopeless,” Merlin snapped. She appeared to have worn down his patience. “You are not trying. There is a difference. How is it that you brought Arthur here from Avalon, but you can’t summon the power to turn a doorknob?” Merlin stood there and clenched his jaw. “You can connect with the magic, you simply do not want too.”
“And why would I not want to access it,” Elaine said, “If by doing so I could make you stop talking?” Merlin’s gaze flickered over her shoulder, and she turned to see what had drawn his attention. Arthur stood there on the large porch watching them bicker, an amused smile lighting up his face. Elaine couldn’t help but laugh at the expression. When she looked back, Merlin was standing very close.
“The problem is,” he said quietly so that Arthur couldn’t hear him, “That you are unwilling to accept reality as it is.” Elaine stiffened. “You think that if you ignore all of this, that in time, it will go away. That is why you can’t access your powers. That is why you will not call Arthur by name.”
“What?” she looked at Merlin. He gave her a sad look before he walked away, leaving her stunned. Elaine ran a hand over her face, wondering. Was she ignoring reality? It was no secret that she had joked about waking up to find all of this was some bizarre dream. But was that really how she felt? The moment that all of this had happened, the instant that Merlin had turned up on her porch in the middle of the storm, she knew. Knew in the depths of her soul that this was all real, that everything Merlin had said was right. That what Merlin told her was true, that Arthur was…Arthur. At the time, she had compared it to a piece of a puzzle.
But she really was ignoring this, in a broader sense.
Even though she had accepted some of this, she didn’t want to play her part. She didn’t want to be the Lady of the Lake. She didn’t want to learn magic, even if she found the idea fascinating from a scientific perspective. She didn’t want to have to search for the knights, she just wanted her life to go back to normal…or about as normal as it ever got. Movement caught her eye, and she saw that Arthur was drawing closer to her. She shook her head and wondered if she had never really called Arthur by his name. She thought about what Merlin had said, about names having power and wondered if that was why. If she innately understood this and was resisting calling a spade a spade because she was scared of what would happen if she really accepted all of this.
“Don’t take what Merlin said too seriously,” he said with a sympathetic smile. “When Merlin thinks you capable of something, nothing on earth would stop him from making you prove him right.”
“I forgot that he was your teacher,” Elaine smiled distractedly, her thoughts still on Merlin’s words.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
“Yeah,” she waved a hand dismissively. “Just lost in thought.” She walked off, leaving a puzzled Arthur behind her.
Elaine spent most of the day in a fog, wandering around. Merlin’s words had really struck her. She got lost three times on her way to the massive library on the house’s first floor. She poked around for anything that Vivian may have had pertaining to magic but had no luck.
After dinner, she curled up on the couch with a cup of tea. She studied the search result on magic on her phone screen, but nothing was of any help. Elaine had resigned herself to the fact that Merlin was right. And if she was going to be able to adapt to her new reality, she was going to have to learn about magic. She sighed and tossed the phone across the couch. The internet was going to be of no use.
Nothing that she was going to find would prepare her for her new life.
“Are you going to tell me what is wrong?” Arthur asked, turning his gaze from the television to her. Elaine sat a little straighter, “I know we don’t know each other well, but…” he trailed off for a moment before turning to face her. “I don’t like seeing you so upset.”
“I’m sorry,” Elaine flushed, knowing that the man sitting there was no small part of the problem. She couldn’t tell him that, so she focused on the problem facing her. “It’s this whole magic thing. I just…I can’t figure out what it is that Merlin means. I had hoped that Vivian had kept some sort of journals or books on how to do it, but there was nothing in the library.”
“Of course, there wouldn’t be,” Arthur said as if this was the most obvious thing in the world. “No Lady would have kept books on actual magic where any ordinary person could stumble upon them.”
“Then, where are they?” Elaine challenged. “Between insurance agents, estate lawyers and my sister and I, we’ve been over every square inch of this place.” Arth
ur sighed heavily and just stared at her.
“I didn’t know your aunt,” he said, but his voice seemed distant. “But I did know her mother. She was Lady of the Lake before Vivian. Evelyn was her name.” He smiled fondly. “I met her in England during the war. She was married to an American infantryman, Jack Lakeport, who was our Gawain at the time. She told me once,” he paused briefly trying to remember the details, “that she kept everything important in a room that was sealed by magic so that no one but her could get in.”
“That really doesn’t help…” Elaine froze as she remembered. “Oh my god.” She shot up off the couch and sprinted to the little hall off the entryway, and down the stairs to the basement. She took the stairs quickly, almost tripping at the base, but Arthur caught her by the arm, keeping her on her feet as her hand roamed along the wall trying to find the light switch.
“Elaine,” Arthur said, his grip still firm on her upper arm. “What in the world are you doing?” She finally found what she was looking for and she flicked the switch, the basement lighting up to reveal the door that Lacy had found.
The locked door with no lock.
Arthur let go of her arm and stared at the door. “My sister found this the day that we moved me in,” Elaine said, watching him closely as he examined the door. “She couldn’t open it.”
“Did you try?” he asked, turning back to her. Elaine shook her head, remembering what a whirlwind that first day had been. It was only two days, but it already felt like a lifetime ago. Arthur stepped out of the way, gesturing for her to do so. She stepped in front of the door and placed her hand on the knob. Immediately it felt like she had touched a live wire.
She leapt back, shaking her hand “That hurt.” Arthur stepped forward and placed his hand on the doorknob. “Don’t,” she called in warning, but Arthur appeared unaffected by what had shocked her.
“I take it this is the door,” he smiled.
“Yeah,” Elaine’s excitement drained on the spot. “It still doesn’t change the fact that I can’t open it.” She rubbed her hand the pain of the shock still lingering.
“What did Merlin tell you about magic?” he asked. With a heavy sigh, Elaine reiterated what she had been told. Arthur chuckled, “The whole internet analogy is beyond me,” Elaine smiled with a shrug. “I never could do magic. But Merlin and I talked about it on more than one occasion. He always made it seem like it was like a duel.”
Elaine stared at him quizzically, “That,” Arthur said as he gently turned Elaine toward the door and stood directly behind her, “it was about using your strength, in this case magic, to make what you want happen. About visualizing what you want to do, and then doing it.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper as his breath puffed at her ear.
“Making what you want to happen,” she muttered to herself. Perhaps that was the problem. She didn’t want it. Didn’t want the magic to do what it was supposed to do. She’d had more than her share of practice making what she ‘wanted to happen’ occur, but it was always through her own force of will and a lot of blood, sweat, and tears.
If she wanted to use magic, she had to let herself want it. Had to approach it the same way she had medical school. Had to dedicate herself to it, had to want it, to want to learn. Elaine closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Did she want it? Could she dedicate herself to learning magic? She wanted to learn. She always wanted to learn more. What she needed to learn was just on the other side of that door.
Whether or not she wanted to learn magic was of little consequence now. She wanted the door open.
She reached forward and placed her hand on the knob, and twisted it, forcing it to turn enough that she could open the door. She heard a loud whine as the door opened. Her eyes shot open, and she squealed in delight, spinning around and hugging Arthur tightly. He stammered, not knowing what to do with her sudden outburst. She let him go just as quickly, and she rushed into the room.
Chapter Eight
Arthur had to stifle his laughter at Elaine’s expression of delight when she opened the room. She looked like…well…she looked like the old Elaine. He knew that they were not the same person, but the physical resemblance was uncanny. The old Elaine had been his best friend. Even after he was king, even after the knights, he could confide in Elaine in a way that he never could with Merlin, who was never able to stop being his teacher. She had been the only person who knew where all the bodies were buried, so to speak.
This Elaine was nothing like the old Elaine though. The old Elaine would bend over backwards to give Arthur what he wanted. She never objected to anything that he had done, even when she should have. Especially when his actions had brought about the deaths of everyone that they loved.
He sensed that this woman would never allow him to go that far.
Arthur watched as Elaine looked around the tidy room full of books and scrolls, watched her grab one and sit down at the desk, almost as if she had forgotten that he was there. He hated the feeling that he was being ignored. It was the reason that he had tried-successfully-to help her. Merlin had told him to simply let her be, but when she had spent all day in a trance-like state, he couldn’t take it anymore.
He had tried to tell himself that he wanted to help her, tried to tell himself that he did it for her. So that she would stop walking around not seeing anyone or anything, wrapped up in her own misery. But Arthur knew better. He was, at his core, a vain and selfish being. He never did anything altruistically, and he hated himself for it.
He watched Elaine push her long hair behind her ears as she squinted at the book before her, solely focused on deciphering the words on the page. He watched how she threw herself into study, and watched her eyes light up like a fire and prayed that she would be the one to finally end the curse. Finally, end the cycle that the old Elaine had begun more than 1500 years ago and set him free.
He quietly made his way up the stairs only to find Merlin standing in the entryway. “You just had to interfere, didn’t you?” he asked. Merlin looked tired, more tired now, than he had in any revival.
“Yes,” Arthur said. “I hated how lost she looked.” That was true. He hated that she had walked around all day in a fog. That she looked like she was upset with no one but herself.
“The point,” Merlin rubbed his temples, “was for her to come to magic on her own. To not have to rely on you or me or anyone else for it.” Arthur stared at the wizard. Merlin usually had a very good reason for doing the things that he did, but this time, Arthur just couldn’t see it. He didn’t understand why it was so easy for him to stand back and watch Elaine fail, to flounder. “Things are different this time,” Merlin sighed as he must have guessed Arthur’s thoughts. “Elaine knows nothing of what is going on, nothing about the revivals, nothing about the cycle. Perhaps if it was Vivian,” Merlin looked away. “I believe that Elaine has the power to break the cycle for good. But you cannot push her. She needs to get her feet under her before we throw her a curveball.”
“A curveball?” Arthur asked.
“Of course,” Merlin nodded. “Before we add something else to her plate.” Arthur glanced behind him, at the basement door that he had just come through. “She doesn’t even properly know about Morgan, and the danger that she is in. And I don’t want her too. At least not yet.” Elaine was still down there, still down in the hidden room.
Merlin was right, of course. Morgan was out there somewhere. And now that Arthur was back, she would be able to sense it too. She would be able to find Elaine. The first Lady of the Lake ever who would not know how to defend herself. Arthur hoped that he had done the right thing, hoped that by helping her unlock the door that Elaine could help him break the cycle.
He couldn’t stand to watch as he ruined the life of another friend.
Chapter Nine
Elaine managed to make it up the stairs, only bashing her shin on the steps once. With her she carried an old book. One written by one of her ancestors. She refused to look at or acknowledge the dates written on any
of the material. If she did, she knew she would have to panic at the age of the books and scrolls and likely not touch any of them. She found it odd that almost none of the items in the room showed any sign of age. “Considering some of these are ancient,” Elaine muttered, turning the leather-bound book over in her hands, “They’re amazingly well kept.”
“Magic,” she spun around, hearing Merlin’s voice behind her.
“You scared the hell out of me,” she said, clutching at her heart. She could hear her pulse slamming in her ears.
“I am sorry,” Merlin smiled. “To answer your question though,” Merlin closed the gap between them and stuck out a hand to look at the book. She passed it to him, and he turned it over in his hands. “The books have been spelled so that they won’t deteriorate.” He nodded at the book, seeming to approve of her choice before passing it back to her. “A fruitful night, I take it?”
“And then some,” Elaine said. She had lost all track of time in the basement. She had only just realized that she had been down there for hours and had come up to check her phone. “The problem is that even though it all makes a little more sense on a theoretical level…” she put the book down and picked up her phone.
“Still no real luck then?” Merlin finished her thought. Elaine nodded and sighed heavily. She had hoped to approach this the way that she had when going through medical school. Translating the words on the page into actual actions. She had tried a few ‘spells’ the night before. Things she had found written in the pages that said, ‘basic’ or ‘simple’ but she was no better off than she had been before.
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