Chapter 93: Recruits [Part 15]
London, UK-
The city had a gloomy air, despite it being normal for the city to be in such a dreary atmosphere, the past few weeks had an even darker mood than usual.
"Mommy, why is everyone sad?"
A little girl who was none the wiser asked her mother who could only tell a white lie-
"It’s because of the weather hun, it’s been colder lately right? That’s why you should always wear your jacket alright?"
"Mmh!"
Their conversation got a few stares but no one spoke up to say anything about it.
The mother and daughter duo quietly disappeared into morning mist, the damp air matching the atmosphere did not change a bit.
Arthur sat quietly in a coffee shop and watched the interaction with mixed feelings.
As a member of the mystical community, he was well aware of the madness that was secretly going on behind the scenes.
But now, the truth was being revealed to the world and the reactions that he saw made him change his thoughts a bit.
The peace and prosperity brought by the separation of the two worlds through a thin veil gave him a false sense of ease.
He was able to continue living and maintaining the traditions passed down by his ancestors while also making a life in the non-mystic world.
In a way, he got the best of both worlds and that was something not only Arthur but even other mystics enjoyed.
When needed they used their abilities to gain benefits that would help them in either of the two worlds they live in.
Through such acts, connections are born, powerful groups are formed and secret manipulators become the holders of wealth.
Brainwashed by the acceptance of their mystical heritage, many of the mystics saw non-mystics as mere sheep. Cattle that live oblivious to the reality of the world.
But when the truth of magic came out, not only the non-mystics but even the mystical groups had been forced to face reality.
The state of every individual in the world is different, but Arthur had a special position.
He had access to a "safe space", not infallible but it was safe enough that he had the leeway to ponder over the things that he saw with his own eyes.
Many mystics retain their ideology, their ideas of greatness of their own blood and heritage. Such mystics were the ones who did not get a chance to think calmly.
Many of them, as Arthur had observed, were forced into dangerous situations.
When you are hunted down like an animal for merely existing, your own ideas become the only thought that supplies your mind with enlightenment. It becomes an echo chamber and when such people gather, the echoes grow louder.
Arthur saw it personally, people who he knew were moving out in response to the "witch hunts". Mystics who became victims stand as martyrs for resistance and their tales used as fuel for the fire of hate that leads the mystical community into a war with the "hunters".
This situation created a certain tension in the air.
In the US, the atmosphere was akin to that of a war torn nation.
Even when people were living "peacefully" and things were still running "as usual". The odd tension of people being prepared for a sudden gunfight had gotten stronger.
It was not the "American spirit"that many joked about. Not the "trigger happy" nature of a disgruntled teen with access to a gun-
It was a different air, one that made even the kind old lady across the street always have a weapon on her.
Eyes that tried to look for signs of kindness now hunted stared at others with a desire to "see something wrong".
It was as if everyone could be an enemy or a spy.
Even the churches had become dangerous spots.
Despite the Vatican being clean of magic, the fact that a knight order that had been dropped by the Vatican was able to establish themselves in the US and become a major power in the mystical world was something that had been made public.
While devotees of the cross trusted the vatican, they started to doubt and suspect their local parishes and pastors.
Many of the people who went on "witch hunts" were such people, modern day "crusaders" who believed that magic was the stain that must be removed.
But such movements did not stay only in the US, in Arthur’s own hometown, in his own country...
The old man looked out once more towards the streets, the dreary atmosphere remained, it was not normal for London.
It was actually a result of a spell...
A war had already started, those that hunted down mystics had invaded the mystical world.
The split realm that was established by Merlin and was where the mystical community retreated to-
The city that allowed the mystics of the UK to live in peace and prosperity for countless years had now become the center of a conflict that threatened to destroy the city of London.
Should the spell that created the split realm break, a whole city would come crashing down into reality.
Because the mystical realm that Merlin created was not the real world but a subspace created through a "dream".
Magic was something that even Arthur could not comprehend completely.
Whether it was the teleportation spell that Richard constantly used or the spells he used in everyday life-
All of them were nothing more than systems that someone else built and which he made use of.
After all, does every gun owner or soldier understand how their gun works?
Not the simple concept of how the bullet is made to fly or the mechanisms in the gun but everything.
From the movement of gasses from one chamber to another, the tension required for each spring, the ratio of whatever gunpowder was used for the bullet and the reason why the bullet they used was shaped in the way it was.
Of course, some would claim that they know it but there was more to the firing of a bullet than just the concepts of how it works.
Even the rifling of a gun would change depending on the length of the barrel, the "optimal" form was not a product of simple trial and error, it was a calculated product discovered by multiple engineers throughout multiple generations.
The current guns people used came from a long line of firearms that changed over the course of two world wars, a cold war and subsequent proxy wars.
Technology developed in such a way-
Magic?
Most of the tools and techniques used by a common mystic was developed by a monster who lived for millenia.
That or a distant ancestor who created a system that no one was able to understand or replicate until today.
Unlike technology that was built around the concept of "anyone could do it"-
Magic was fundamentally a technique that centered around one word-
"Personal"
Merlin had created many wonders that live on to this day, systems that could be shared and techniques that do not need "Specific" requirements just to be understood.
Yet even those systems relied on an inherent mystical prowess.
Of course, many tried to follow down the path drawn by Merlin but the requirements to do so were far too great.
Moreover, even if the people who tried to walk down Merlin’s path tried to tread on the unknown, they would quickly realize that the path had already been tread upon, it was only enveloped by the darkness of Merlin’s own talent.
One man had treaded on a similar path in the non-mystic world, Albert Einstein and many others were said to be ahead of their times but humanity quickly caught up-
The mystical world?
Even the monsters that lived in the same era was Merlin barely scratched the surface of what Merlin achieved.
Moreover, their thinking was fundamentally stuck to their time period.
Even when they achieved something, they always kept it to themselves.
Much like how Morgana and the many witches scattered across the globe were treading their own paths that allowed them to select individuals to follow on.
Nobody thought of the consequences such a state would bring but-
The consequences came sooner than anyone expected.
The mystics tried to stop the non-mystics when they started to detect the power of mystics. They created tall tales to create a thin veil over the eyes of the "common people".
But that veil had now been ripped to shreds and Arthur couldn’t make a decision on where to stand.
Richard seemed to have little care for the world at large, his eyes were turned towards a different goal and the matter that was causing chaos globally was nothing more than an annoyance to him.
Arthur even tried to focus more on the tradition which his ancestor had started, the one which kept him going for years but...
Recalling the face of his own daughter, the look of betrayal she had...
"What should I have done?"
Arthur wondered aloud and unexpectedly- he got a reply...
"Your best"
Arthur’s eyes sharpened, despite his old age, he was not someone who survived in two worlds by pure luck.
His title and pride as a knight were not empty-
There was genuine power behind his status and the voice that responded to him understood that-
"Don’t get to antsy sir knight, I may look like this but I can still deal with you without breaking a sweat"
An old man wearing a tattered robe appeared before him.
He sat opposite of Arthur and not a single soul seemed to notice him.
Arthur took in his presence, the way he acted and the power he had.
The low rumbling of thunder, the chaotic roar of storms... his magic had an air of knowledge but his clothes looked like that of a weary wanderer...
"What does someone like you wish from a supporter of Merlin?"
"Merlin... what a frightening name- so it seems he survived?"
"..."
"Hehehe, no need to be wary, I can’t do anything to him... no- I could but don’t dare to... that poisonous lass has gotten even more mad, I wondered what happened so he did survive... It seems the time for change is coming"
The old man prattled away but Arthur remained silent, he kept his silence, after all, a word was all it took for a mystic to trap him. Moreover, the mystic before him- no, the mystical being that manifested before him was far more frightening than any mystic in the world
"..."
"Haa~ it seems that mystics have lost more than just their ability... if you won’t talk then so be it- I’ve come only to give a warning... the shadows will rise from the north, flames will burn in the south, the sun shall rise in the west and the east shall be frozen by a centurial chill... pass that on to the kid, if anyone could deal with what’s to come, it would be Merlin"
The old man left those words before vanishing and Arthur who had finally been released from the pressure of a mystical being was able to breathe out a sigh of relief.
But that only lasted for a moment as the harrowing words of the old man echoed in his mind...
’Shadows... will Scathach be making a move?’
