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“Deep within the depths of the station,
You’ll find the key that brings your salvation,
ornate and hidden, past pain and privation.
It’s clutched in the Captain’s cold hands.
So take your seat, the one they warn you from,
Galahad be strong, its visions may overwhelm,
but they won’t steer you wrong, follow them through to your faith!”
Sang the Hanged Man, his voice gently spreading across the desert that was the centre of Camelot. His gold-silver eyes, mechanical as the rest of him, locked in Galahad’s deep gray ones.
Galahad stared back, just as intensely.
“Well son, that’s a hell of a story. But hanged man, I’m glad ya chose me! If there’s any way it might save us, we might be free! From the heat! From the violence! From the hatred in their hearts!”
Sang Galahad, responding to Merlin by continuing his song.
He believed him. He obviously believed him. What was there not to believe in Merlin’s words?
Especially given the stories Galahad knew, Galahad had always been told.
After he left the Hanged Man, he headed to his church. To his bible.
The many chapters and verses… and the one he was looking for, right there.
How once, in their planet, the people had disregarded someone who knew more, killed the person. And later, used the technology they left behind to create this station, create Fort Galfridian.
Galahad didn’t know why that particular chapter had always called to him.
Ever since the former priest first read it for him. Apparently, it had been written before the first religious leaders of the planet, when they first used the tech left behind by the Prophet.
Galahad had thought of reading that chapter to Merlin, but… he was a Holy Prophet, he must know every word of the sacred texts, especially about the most important of the prophets.
It hadn’t been long ago that Galahad found out he had descended from that priest who had cast their saviour into the cosmos. Galahad felt guilty.
He knew it wasn’t his mistake. It had happened thousands of years ago. Even so, it was his bloodline’s mistake.
And now, there was a new prophet and Galahad felt it was his duty to uphold his sacred words.
He would do anything, anything he asked of him.
The next day, Galahad woke up, prayed, and walked to the center square of Camelot.
He wasn’t exactly focusing on where he went. It was a good surprise to find himself face-to-face with Merlin, The Prophet.
“Father Galahad. Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Said the Prophet, voice as beautiful as it had always been, since Galahad first saw him.
“Merlin. Just came by to talk.”
“Then talk, my priest.”
God. He was kind. Probably kinder than everyone else was, when it came to Galahad.
“Been reading the Bible again. ’Bout the Prophet.”
“You think it’s the second coming…? Or… whatever it’s called.”
Galahad sighed.
“Not really. Another prophet, I think.”
“What do they say about what I told you?”
“That I should do it.”
Merlin smiled. His smile was just… so fucking bright when he looked at Galahad.
“The chapter you mentioned. Could you read it to me?”
“Don’t you know it?”
“I do. Just haven’t read it… or anything, by that matter, in a while.”
“I shall read it to you tomorrow, then.”
Galahad stood up after that, turning to leave.
“Goodbye, Father Galahad.”
“Goodbye, Prophet Merlin.”
One more day passed.
And Galahad walked to the town square for the third day in a row.
Holding his texts.
To talk to Holy Merlin, the Hanged Man.
“Hello, Prophet Merlin.”
“Hello, Father Galahad.”
The priest kicked away some of the dirt that piled high in all of Fort Galfridian and sat down, leaning on one of the rusted iron poles from which Merlin was hanged.
His eyes aligned perfectly with the Prophet’s own.
Galahad opened the book and read. His voice didn’t carry or was any soft like Merlin’s, and yet the Prophet did not interrupt him.
In fact, he grew quieter and quieter at each word that left Galahad’s lips.
By the time he finished reading the passages, it was quiet enough for him to hear the grains of sand hitting his clothes and skin.
The silence stretched, for a while. A second or an hour, neither could tell.
“Father Galahad. Leave.”
These words… from Merlin’s mouth, were like a knife to the heart.
“But- Prophet-”
The Hanged Man closed his eyes. He couldn’t cry, Galahad knew that. He remembered the day Merlin had told him about many of his mechanical systems. And yet, Galahad had never seen him actually… try to cry.
Nor his voice sound small.
“Please.”
This time, there was no room to argue. The priest stood up, fingers only slightly brushing against the warm metal of Merlin’s cheek as he left. Walked straight to his church. No one was there. No one had been since his conversations with Merlin, thinking he went insane. He had never been crazy. He listened to the Hanged Man because he knew he was holy. Holier than everyone in this land, holier than many saints he had spoken of for so long.
Galahad sighed, pushing it all out of his mind. He knelt in the closest pew, clasping his hands together. He had never bothered saying his prayers out loud. Felt wrong.
His lips mouthed the words, his apologies, his sins, his desires.
And, even as he prayed, Merlin found his way into Galahad’s mind. The Prophet’s beautiful, sculpted face.
The priest prayed for him. For him to feel better, for him to not be hanged forever, for him to want Galahad near him again.
Please, Merlin. Allow me to be with you. Allow the others to believe I have not lost my wits on my conversations with you. Please, my Holy Prophet! I know your word is the word of God, so please speak to me. I shall do whatever you’ll ask of me.
He shook. His hands shook. Everything shook. Had he…
Who was he even praying to?
He knew the answer. Knew it all too well.
“Merlin…”
He whispered, the word dying even as it echoed across the empty church.
Galahad knew then he wanted the Prophet, in every sense of the word.
He needed to kiss him just as much as he needed to worship him. Needed to talk to him. Had to know why Merlin was upset. What had made him like that.
Galahad didn’t wait for tomorrow. He couldn’t wait, he ran, ran the whole city. Just to see Merlin, his Merlin, his Prophet.
“Father Galahad. I believe I told you to leave.”
“I came to see if you’re okay.”
“No, I am not.”
Said the Hanged Man, eyes deliberately away from Galahad’s.
“Then tell me why. I’ll listen.”
The priest sat down, in the same spot he had when he last spoke to Merlin.
“What’s that thing you told me? Around the time we first met. ‘There are tales to be told,’ wasn’t it? I want you to tell me yours.”
This time, the words seemed to have affected Merlin.
He sang. Not like he usually did. This song… almost like it wasn’t his, yet all too his in another way. At each word his voice threatened to break, but his systems made sure it couldn’t.
“There was a man, both good and true. All alone and a-lowly… Branded a witch for what he could do, lost in the cosmos, lonely.”
It was a short song. Barely more than two minutes. It’s story, almost perfectly the chapter Galahad had read to Merlin. The story of the saviour, son of God, prophet.
That tale… Merlin’s tale.
When the realization came of who he talked to, Galahad kneeled before him.
His hands were clasped together and his admiration, guilt and worship merged together into this overwhelming feeling that threaten to take control of him.
“In front of you now, I atone for the sins of my blood, my saviour. I pray you’ll forgive and I pray you’ll take me as yours.”
“Stand up, Father Galahad, for I am not holy.”
“To me, you are. You are more than God in my eyes, Merlin. It was my blood that made you go through all you had to endure. So now I’m giving you all I have.”
Merlin looked at Galahad. Kneeled, still. He worshipped him. Him and him alone. Merlin had never asked for worship, never asked to be a holy figure. And yet, the way Galahad look at him filled him with a sense of genuine love.
“I will. I will take you as mine, Father Galahad.”
The priest’s hands ran through the strands of Merlin’s hair, moving up to hold his cheeks. Reverently, Galahad kissed the brass lips of his Saviour, his God.
When the kiss ended, the two gazed into each other’s eyes.
“I devote myself to you.”
“Then I’ll love you until you’re gone.”