Snippet #1750873

He had been letting subtle dampness of the opaquely yellow fog moisten his face as he stood erect on the bow of the small water craft. He heard the off-hand inquiry made by his “former” teacher, for though he was and accomplished magician in his own right his magic was still very much dwarfed by hers. This of course never made him feel in adequate or belittled, only that it was the truth resulted by her having centuries to perfect her craft. In response he turned to her and offered his signature half-smile while cocking an eyebrow giving him a quirky look, “Since when is anything that the revered Lady of the Lake does not a celebratory moment? I swear you’ll look for any excuse to either throw banquet or attend one,” he chuckled.

He watched her as she relaxed her graceful form within the crafty letting her feet graze the water. There once was a time when he would have thrown himself at her, begging for her affections to satisfy his naive fantasies of romance, but that was almost a lifetime ago. These days he was only her loyal companion and she his occasional mentor. “I’m sure Lancelot will be glad to see us, that boy loves you to death you know. I do however get the sense that he is simply itching to do great things.” The smile faded a little as the conversation turned to slightly more somber tone, “He is a man now. I wonder how long he will be content before his thirst for adventure brings him away from the island…”

Merlin shook his head thinking better of his comment not wanting to bring down the mood with sullen topics, “Bah, look at me ramble, you’d think I’m going old and senile. Besides we have more pressing matters to attend to. Like cake and biscuits! And cake-biscuits!” his jovial side returned. One thing he picked up from Aurnia is that though she had lived more than twice most men she seemed to retain a strange innocence about her. Were Merlin in her shoes he though he would go mad or in the least cynical and cruel if he lived that long. He supposed she merely adopted the philosophy of enjoying life for the moment; it wasn’t as if she had a deadline to meet or tasks that could wait another fifty or so years, so Merlin would remind himself that she would rather not be bothered by the day to day somber details of mortals.

Rather it would better that she crossed those bridges as they came or when she so chose, after all according to her prophecies they would have their hands full soon enough.