And, in time, magic returned to the lands of Camelot.
It was a slow and rather arduous process, as anyone can tell you. There was much fighting on both sides of the argument, many heated exchanges and harsh words. There was pleading and begging and testimonies in favor and against the very prospect. Magic? people asked. No, impossible.
Their former king had spent years wiping out magic from his lands, but he only succeeded in making enemies with, well, everyone. This new king, young, a bit naive, but a fresh mind, was able to see benefits of magic. Its legalization would appease bitter sorcerers and magic itself had nearly endless benefits if used in favor of the kingdom. Crops would cease to wither, battlements could be enforced. And let's not forget about those bitter sorcerers and practitioners of the Old Religion.
Magic, reasoned this young king, is the same as a sword. A sword itself is not good or evil, but the man who yields it is. Swords, however, are legal, he said, and magic is not. Magic is not inherently good or evil, it just is.
In the end, his patience paid off. After several years, magic was at last decreed legal in all the Kingdoms of Albion.
Many have asked this young king what had changed his mind on the matter. He would answer with a slight dip of the head that, truthfully, he had been contemplating the matter for most of his life, that this was not the end result of one singular event.
But, he would add, there was one person in particular that showed him the true nature of magic.
The person who asked would leave leaving a bit unsatisfied with the King's vague answer, but the king would shoot a sidle along glance to the man at his right hand, a man with a smattering of black hair and the brightest smile anyone had ever laid their eyes on: the King's oldest friend and the Court Sorcerer.
Magic was welcomed back to the world with open arms and a shrill call of delight. The earth itself swelled and prospered and absolutely hummed with such unbridled power and joy. Standing at the height of the land, you could feel the ground beneath your feet and everything for miles and you could feel at one with the whole of eternity, thrumming with such energy.
Ever since then, there has been widespread peace in all of Albion.
But, as anyone can tell you, all good things must eventually end.
To be continued