[Location: Camelot – Gaius's Chambers, Morning]
By the time dawn broke over Camelot, the castle had already begun its routine hum of life.
The ring of hammers from the lower courtyard. The creak of market carts being pulled across cobblestones. The faint scent of bread and smoke drifting up from the kitchens.
I sat at Gaius's worktable, grinding dried belladonna into a fine dust. The rhythmic scrape of the pestle was almost soothing.
Almost.
Gaius stood across from me, half-bent over a scroll, his brow furrowed in the way it always was when he was trying not to show concern.
Finally, he sighed. "You've heard the rumors, I assume?"
"Depends which ones," I said, not looking up.
"The witch in the western farmlands. Two soldiers found burned where they stood. Uther's men are calling it sorcery. He's ordered another round of inspections."
I stopped grinding. "Inspections," I repeated. "You mean—"
"Yes." Gaius's voice tightened. "The guards are checking every apothecary, every scholar's workshop. Anyone caught experimenting with 'unnatural energy' will be questioned. And questioning in Camelot rarely ends well."
He didn't need to spell it out further.
I'd seen enough of what men in armor could do in my previous world — and even more since I'd arrived in this one.
Here, fear wore a crown.
[Location: Castle Courtyard, Later That Day]
I stayed in the background as the guards passed by. Their red and gold armor gleamed under the weak sunlight. Behind them, Arthur barked orders to a new line of recruits.
He looked every bit the prince — posture straight, eyes sharp — but there was something uneasy in the way he watched Uther's men. He didn't share his father's zeal for this kind of purge.
Merlin stood nearby, pretending to stack training shields, though I knew he was watching too.
When our eyes met, he gave a small nod. A silent warning: Stay low.
I adjusted my cloak and moved on.
[Location: Gaius's Chambers, Midday]
When I returned, the air was tense.
Morgana was there — standing by the window, arguing in low tones with Gaius.
"This isn't justice, it's fear," she was saying. "Half the people accused can barely light a candle, and Uther sends his men after them as if they were monsters."
Gaius's tone was gentle but cautious. "You know how dangerous it is to speak that way, my lady. The king—"
"I know exactly what my guardian is," she snapped. Then, catching herself, softened. "I'm sorry, Gaius. But if magic is truly evil, why does the world keep needing it?"
Her eyes flicked to me when she said it — deliberate, thoughtful.
"Apologies," she added, regaining her composure. "I didn't mean to intrude."
"You didn't," I said. "You're just asking questions no one else will."
That earned me the faintest smile — small but genuine — before she turned and left, her dark cloak trailing through the light.
Gaius waited until the door shut, then looked at me gravely.
"Careful with that one," he warned. "Morgana's heart is kind, but her curiosity could get you both killed."
"I'll keep that in mind."
He studied me another moment. "You understand what's at stake, don't you, Ren? Whatever it is you're working on… you must not let anyone see. Not now. Not with the mood in Camelot."
I nodded. "I'll keep a low profile."
"Good." He hesitated, then added quietly, "And whatever energy you channel… keep it quiet as well. The king's sorcerer-hunters can sense disturbances now. They're not trained like you or Merlin, but they're thorough."
That caught my attention. "Sense… disturbances?"
"Yes. They're using charms — rudimentary, but sensitive enough to detect sudden bursts of magic within the city walls."
That changed things.
Until now, I'd been practicing in abandoned corners and empty rooms.
But if they had detection magic — even weak — then every pulse of Quantum Mana was like lighting a beacon in the dark.
"Understood," I said, voice low. "I'll adjust my parameters."
Gaius blinked. "Your what?"
"Never mind."
[Location: Lower Courtyard – Evening]
I watched the guards make their rounds again, torches flickering in the fog. Somewhere above, Arthur's voice carried faintly through the night — training drills echoing against stone.
Camelot felt smaller tonight.
More dangerous.
I sat on a cold step by the archway and thought about everything Gaius had said.
Magic here wasn't just power — it was politics. A weapon, a taboo, a whisper in corridors lined with fear.
And somewhere in all that, I had to find a way to train without drawing attention.
The spark I'd managed last night was progress — but uncontrolled. Too bright. Too unstable.
I needed refinement. Silence. Precision.
If they were going to start hunting for light…
I'd learn how to fight in the dark.
[Author's Note]
This chapter grounds us in the tension of Camelot — Uther's witch hunts, Morgana's moral conflict, and the atmosphere of fear that defines the pre-Merlin era. Ren now understands the real cost of using his power here: exposure means death. The next chapter will bring this tension to a breaking point as he begins developing stealth and offensive casting under these dangerous conditions.