[Location: Camelot — Central Courtyard, Morning]
The courtyard smelled of rain and ash. Smoke curled from the blackened stake at its center, still warm from last night's fire. The crowd had dispersed, but their whispers lingered like ghosts between the stone walls.
Ren stood near the outer gate, hood drawn low, pretending to inspect the supplies cart he was assigned to deliver from Gaius's store. His eyes, though, were fixed on the charred remains.
Another witch. Another execution.
He'd stopped counting after the fourth.
Beside him, Merlin set down a crate with a dull thud. His jaw was tight. "They said she was healing a boy in the lower village. Used a light spell to stop the bleeding. Someone saw it."
Ren's fingers curled around the edge of the cart. "And that's enough for this?"
He gestured toward the pyre.
Merlin's voice dropped. "Under Uther's law, it's more than enough. Intent doesn't matter here — only what people fear."
Ren looked away. "Fear's a lazy kind of justice."
Neither spoke for a while. The bells from the upper tower rang faintly, marking the new hour. The city went on as if nothing had happened — blacksmiths hammering, traders shouting, children running between the stalls.
Life continued.
Just not for everyone.
[Location: Gaius's Chambers — Midday]
The room was cluttered as ever — herbs drying by the window, scrolls stacked in precarious towers. Yet the usual warmth was missing.
Gaius leaned over a parchment, reading in silence until Ren entered. He didn't look up immediately.
"You shouldn't have gone to the courtyard."
Ren closed the door behind him. "I needed to see."
"Seeing won't change what happened," Gaius said quietly. "It only makes you reckless."
Ren's tone hardened. "People are dying for trying to help. That doesn't deserve silence."
Gaius sighed and finally turned. "You're not wrong, but you forget — Uther's wrath is not limited to those who wield magic. Anyone who stands near it burns the same."
Ren's eyes narrowed. "And what do you suggest? Pretend not to care?"
"I suggest surviving," Gaius said, his voice carrying the weight of years. "Your magic is different — unstable, unpredictable. If Uther suspects you're connected to these... incidents, he'll see you as the cause, not the cure."
Ren exhaled slowly, frustration giving way to restraint. He understood.
But understanding didn't make it easier.
[Location: Castle Armory — Later]
Arthur was testing his sword against a training dummy when Ren entered. The clang of metal echoed through the chamber. Sweat glistened across the prince's brow, but his movements were precise, disciplined.
"Didn't expect you here," Arthur said between strikes.
Ren shrugged. "Needed somewhere quiet."
Arthur smirked. "This? Quiet?"
Ren leaned against a post, watching the sword work. "Compared to the courtyard, it's peaceful."
Arthur paused mid-swing, the humor fading. "You saw the execution."
"Hard to miss," Ren said. "You didn't look pleased about it either."
Arthur wiped his sword on a cloth. "My father believes he's protecting Camelot. He thinks fear will keep magic from spreading."
"And you?" Ren asked.
Arthur hesitated before answering. "I've seen magic save lives too. Gaius has used it quietly when he must. Even Merlin…"
He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Forget I said that."
Ren smiled faintly. "Don't worry. I'm good at pretending not to hear things."
Arthur chuckled under his breath. "You're strange, you know that?"
"Been told that before," Ren said, eyes glinting. "Usually by people who underestimate me."
Arthur looked at him for a moment, then sheathed his sword. "Be careful, Ren. The court's talking. Some think you were seen near the forest during one of the hunts."
Ren's smile faded. "Let them talk. I've learned words can't burn me."
Arthur gave him a look that wasn't entirely reassuring. "In Camelot, they can."
[Location: Morgana's Chambers — Evening]
Candles burned low, their flames dancing as Morgana traced her fingers over the pages of the old book she'd hidden from Gaius weeks ago. The text pulsed faintly — the runes shifting when touched.
She didn't know why, but lately, her dreams had become sharper, clearer. The face she kept seeing — Ren's — no longer blurred like before. She'd seen him by the stake this morning, his expression unreadable, his eyes reflecting something she couldn't name.
Power.
Sorrow.
Defiance.
She whispered to herself, "You don't belong here… but neither do I."
Gwen entered quietly, setting down a tray. "You're awake again, my lady?"
"Couldn't sleep," Morgana said. "Too many voices in my head."
Gwen hesitated. "Maybe it's just the stress. With the King's new decree—"
Morgana interrupted softly, "No, Gwen. It's not stress. It's magic."
Her gaze lingered on the flickering candlelight. "And I think he's the reason I can feel it."
[Location: Druid Encampment — Forest Edge, Night]
The forest was darker tonight. Aglain sat by the campfire, listening to the soft rustle of the trees as Ren returned from Camelot.
"They executed another healer," Ren said flatly, sitting across the fire.
"I know," Aglain replied. "The wind carries whispers faster than horses."
Ren stared into the flames. "How long before they find you?"
"Soon," Aglain said simply. "The King's reach grows each day."
Ren leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Then I'll draw attention elsewhere. Give them someone else to chase."
"That's not wisdom," Aglain warned. "That's suicide."
Ren's expression didn't change. "If I do nothing, more die. If I act, at least it's on my terms."
For a moment, silence filled the camp except for the crackling of the fire.
Then Aglain said, "The world always tests those who bring change. Just don't let it break you before it bends."
Ren nodded once. "I won't."
Above them, clouds gathered — faint thunder rolling somewhere beyond the horizon.
[Author's Note]
This chapter sets the emotional and political stakes for the Merlin closure arc.
Uther's witch hunts intensify, Morgana's awakening begins, and Ren starts edging toward open conflict with the system of Camelot. The tone remains restrained, but the tension simmers — setting up Chapter 33, where Ren's actions will force a confrontation he cannot avoid.