File:Stoppingthesea.jpg

Did he have the power to stop the seas? The dragon had told him he needed to come to Camelot, but if he could just stop the ocean churning, surely that was saving his people? And that, after all, was the main point of what the dragon had said.

"I don't know," he said, eyes raking over the ocean. He had to at least try, even though he didn't have the faintest idea how.

Somehow picking up on what Merlin was thinking, Will glanced between him and the waves, unsure for once.

For someone so full of hopes that it could happen, Will was strangely hesitant as Merlin stood, walking over the ragged line of rocks and broken tarmac until he reached the point where the tide rested. Toeing off his trainers, Merlin rolled his trousers up, stepping forwards and trying to reach for the ball of power in him.

"Merlin? What are you doing?" Will had a worried edge to his voice, but he remained at the edge of the water, trusting Merlin.

He could feel the ball of power now, resting in his chest. His feet slipped slightly on the rocks and Merlin wondered how far he'd have to travel before he'd find the sand that had been the shorelines of his childhood. It had to be quite far now, considering how much of Ealdor they'd lost over the years.

Merlin kept walking, ignoring how the sea water flowed past his rolled up trousers and through the material. He was knee-deep now and Will was calling for him, insulting him in a haggard tone. The ball of magic in his chest thrummed suddenly and Merlin stopped, knowing he was in one of the patches of moonlight. [...]

Standing under the curve of the moon now though, Merlin wondered if their earth had stolen away something precious from the moon. What had happened that they needed to be punished? So many people, so many lands, gone. It couldn't just be down to an excess of water, surely?

"Merlin!" Will shouted again, drawing Merlin's attention. The water around his thighs was cold, but not unbearably so. The current pulled at him a little, but the waves were mild tonight, pushing and pulling him gently. If the spirits existed, maybe they were welcoming him tonight, bathed in the light of the moon and full of magic.

There weren't any words he could say or incantations he could perform to stop the seas, but Merlin placed his hands in the water nonetheless. His magic rose up inside of him, flowing into his arms as he guided it, focusing on the sway of water under his palms.