In the beginning, someone wrote a book.
And they called this book The Sorcerer's Guide to Magic.
The Sorcerer's Guide to Magic is a wholly remarkable book. It has been compiled and recompiled many times over many years and under many different editorships. It contains contributions from countless numbers of travellers and researchers.
The introduction begins like this: '
,' it says, '
is big. Really big. You just won't believe how vastly hugely mindboggingly big it is. I mean, you may think that life and death are important, but that's just peanuts to magic. Listen...'
and so on.
( After a while, the style settles down a bit and it begins to tell you things you really need to know, like the fact that the famed birthplace of Merlin, the beautiful, if small, hamlet of Ealdor is now so worried about the cumulative erosion by ten billion visiting tourists a year that any net imbalance between the amount you eat and the amount you excrete whilst in the village is surgically removed from your bodyweight when you leave: so every time you go to the toilet, it is vitally important that you get a receipt.)
To be fair though, when confronted with the sheer enormity of magic, better minds than the one responsible for the Guide's introduction have failed. Some invite you to compare a sorcerer to a man like an elephant to an ant, the simple truth is that the sheer power of magic cannot fit into the human imagination.
Even good magic, such as the great wizard Emrys', can be stopped by powerful dark magic, such as Morgana's. It would take the equivalent of 3 Morganas to raze Camelot, and the equivalent of 2 Merlins to save it.
The Sorcere's Guide to Magic also says that if you go to Camelot, you can survive for approximately two minutes. The record is thirty seconds, but you don't get to see much on the way. However, it does also go on to say that the odds of surviving such adventures are two to the power of two hundred and seventy-six thousand seven hundred and nine to one against.
By a totally staggering coincidence, this is also the telephone number of an Islingtom flat where a future re-incarnation of Merlin Emrys once went to a very good party and met a very nice girl who he totally failed to get off with - she went of with Arthur.
Though the Islington flat, the girl and the telephone do not yet exist, it is comforting to know that the odds were exactly in Merlin's favour. He saved the prince's life, became a servant, saved Arthur's life a couple more time and restored magic to Albion.
Like? Hope you enjoyed it. I may wrote another when I have time. I'm at school at the moment, and there's no wifi on Mars, so I can only do this when I'm in my Rocketship. Luckily Rumbleroar gives me rides around on his back.
(GO STARKID! Just for you, NotedMusician. Everyone else: these are...mature matters you wouldn't understand XD)